The car pulled up in front of a bar. Ivy looked up at the neon sign – 'Roni's'. It was eight already and she couldn't budge.

"We're here."

"Mhm." her legs didn't work, her palms were sweating. She hasn't been this nervous since her 6th grade recital.

"I've agreed to give you a ride but I now have better things to do."

"Mhm." she turned to her sister, "Go look for me?"

"You're acting like a child."

"You're right, you're absolutely right. I'm going to march in there, meet the guy, stay 10 minutes and leave. That's it."

"Good plan, maybe he's poor and ugly. 10 minutes is enough…" after a long pause, she added, "You're still not moving, Ivy."

"I can't, Ana!" that was it, she was losing it completely, "This man is the most amazing person I have ever met. He could be a homeless ogre and I would drop everything in a heartbeat and run off with him into the sunset."

"Fine, I'll go and look. Anything to stop this teenage girl crush nonsense. You know, only you could not be happy with a successful and smart American royalty." she snorted, "I suppose he's carrying a book." when the reply didn't come she knew, "Oh, Christ!" she left the car and went to look through the bar window.

While her sister was looking, Ivy became fidgety. Finally, she got hold of her motor skills and stepped out of the car, slamming the door, "And?!"

"A waiter's blocking the view. I don't see the book. Relax."

"I cannot relax. He is-"

"I see him."

Ivy halted, "What?"

"Well… he is handsome."

Ivy clasped her hands together, "I knew it. He had to be."

"Yes… but he's- remember Henry Mills?"

"From the bookstore?"

"You said he was cute."

"Sure. So what?" her forehead puckered, "Who cares about Henry Mills now?"

"I think you really should."

"Why?"

"Because your internet guy... it's Henry Mills."

"Right." she laughed, but then… she hopped on the stairs and glued her face to the window. And there he was, in a nice blue shirt, fidgeting, opening and closing the book, fixing his collar. Henry Mills from the bookstore, the man who wouldn't quit and inadvertently got her demoted, was TruestBeliever. He hated her. She was basically in love with a man who hated her. Perfect. She couldn't face him. Ever! "Well, he just had to ruin that for me, didn't he?" a high-pitched noise resembling laugh escaped her.

"Aren't you going in?"

"No. I'm going back to my apartment. I'm going to…" she waved her hands in a vague gesture, still dumbstruck, "Take a walk."

"You know this whole situation is amusing as hell to me, but don't you feel bad?"

"Good night, Anastasia." Ivy waved her sister goodbye as she walked down the street.

She rounded the corner then stopped. After two long weeks of snow, Seattle was finally moving again. People kept bumping into her. Henry Mills and TruestBeliever were the same person. She couldn't believe it. The one person in her life she thought could, in a strange yet special way, always lean on was someone she would now have to give up. No, she had to march into that bar and see for herself. Maybe the actual conversation, in light of this new information, would disillusion her. She straightened her Max Azaria skirt, turned on her heels and walked oh so casually into 'Roni's'.

When she turned to look at his table, he was already hiding behind the book.

"Henry Mills." she approached, the faux surprise in her voice was supposed to convey pleasantness, "Well, what a coincidence. Mind if I sit?"

"I do mind, actually." he pulled the chair closer, "I'm expecting someone."

There on the table lay a book. And a rose. For her. She looked closer, "'The Little Prince'? I bet you've been reading that book since you were a kid. I bet you love that sentimental dialogue between the prince and… a daisy or something."

"What can I get you?" a woman approached the table as Ivy took a seat.

"Nothing, Roni. She's not staying."

"Scotch. A finer one." she looked at Henry. He was looking daggers at her, "What? I'll just keep you company until your lady friend, I assume, arrives. Uh, 8.15. She's a bit late, but women usually are I suppose."

"It's not a daisy, it' a rose. Not that you would know. To understand the philosophy behind 'The Little Prince', you need both imagination and empathy."

"I've read the book quite recently, actually."

"Good for you."

"You would discover a lot of things about me, if you got to know me."

"Yeah, it would be something to get the know the girl who has a cash register for a heart."

That one hurt, Ivy had to admit as she watched at his almost gleeful expression. She supposed it hurt more now than it would have mere 20 minutes ago, "What?"

"I just had a breakthrough. And I have you to thank for it."

"For what?"

"Finally, when confronted with a horrible person." he flung his hands in her direction like he had to emphasize he was indeed referring to her, "I knew exactly what I wanted to say and I said it."

Ivy looked down at her drink. The ice cubes were melting slowly and she felt like falling apart and disappearing as well. To calm herself, she dug her nails into the palm. The pain was distracting enough, "Well, coming from an expert, I say you have a knack for it. That was a perfect mix of poetry and meanness."

"Meanness? You're the-" he halted in surprise when she placed her hand on his wrist.

"It was meant to be a compliment, Henry. Take it as such." something flickered in her heart but she managed to quell it. In defense, she acted how she usually did, "Is this supposed to be a red rose? Like from the book?"

"Please, leave that."

"It's more crimson, maroon actually."

"I get this is funny to you but-" the bar door opened and the both turned. It was a pair of old ladies.

Henry looked disappointed. His sad, puppy dog eyes turned away and he sighed, "Please, leave."

After brief consideration, Ivy gave a small nod and moved to the next table.

His eyes followed her in surprise but he tried to stay calm. His pulse quickened, he exhaled and decided to count to ten. Apparently, that was supposed to be helpful. It wasn't. He took out the handkerchief and tried to iron it out with his hands. Anything to keep busy.

"You know what that handkerchief reminds me of?" Ivy intruded, "The first time we met."

"Oh, yeah? I too think of your lies as the fond memory."

"I didn't lie to you."

"You did."

There it was again, but this time Ivy wouldn't let it go, "I did not."

"You so did."

"I did not."

"Yeah, you did. 'Just call me Ivy?'"

"That is my name."

"Seriously? Like you're some stupid valley girl with no last name?"

"Look." she moved back to his table, "I am not some stupid-"

"That's not what I meant."

"And I didn't mean to look like a money obsessed bitch who sells cheap books but hey… your reporter fangirl screwed with my statement."

"Oh, you poor little rich girl. I feel so sorry for you."

It was luck perhaps that at that precise moment the bar door opened, because whatever Ivy was about to say she would have sorely regretted. Instead, she smirked as the woman who entered the store was the one wearing a cape and a witch hat, "I'd say that's not her. Unless, you have a weird fairy tale fetish."

Henry ran fingers through his already disheveled hair.

"Who is she, I wonder? Certainly not your party date but somebody quite different." she leaned back and cocked her head, "Will you be mean to her too?"

"I will not. Because she is someone completely unlike you. She is wonderful, kind and funny and-"

"And not here."

"Well, I'm sure she has a good reason, because there is not a cruel and careless bone in her body. But I guess you wouldn't believe that because all you believe is money. You think you are some benefactor who brings books to the masses but you are just a replaceable clog in the machine and nobody will remember you. And maybe nobody will remember me either, but many people remember my grandma. They think she's special and her store is special. And you, you will never live to hear that about yourself." he stopped abruptly the torrent of words. His hands were shaking, hidden in his lap.

Ivy fished out her wallet and placed a bill on the table. She couldn't look at him, if she did she might let show how it wounded her, "That's my cue. Good night."

She kept thinking how horrible this was for her, but only then did she truly realize that for Henry it was far worse. She knew the truth, but Henry would go back to his apartment and see no explanation waiting for him.

Special thanks to the people who reviewed, it means a lot.