"...and I managed to get the twins from next door as well. You'll like them. Their mother needs some serious help with raising those two. They dress in grimy overalls, and the two dogs don't help. Did I tell you about the time they tried climbing up my tree so they could get their stupid frisbee back? One nearly fell when I basically scared the daylights out of them. Would've served him right, if I do say so myself. Then there was that other time where they were throwing stones at cans. That's another story, but they are just insufferable. But, for Saturday—"

"I can't go."

"What do you mean you can't go?"

Piper felt her nails scrape an artery, "I just can't."

"You can't not come home, Piper." The other person on the call had an incredulous tone, and she could all but hear the eye roll that accompanied it. "Especially not on your birthday. I already hired the caterers. I already invited the family over for lunch and dinner."

You mean you invited your friends over, Piper thought.

"I just forgot, okay? It's not a big deal. It's not like I won't have another birthday next year."

"Well, as God may have it. You know, that's what one of the women in the club said, and now look. Turning in her grave, bless her. You can't just skip a year, Piper. Every year is important, you have to celebrate it."

Sighing, Piper leaned her head on the cold window, watched as bumpers kissed bumpers on the chaotic road of the suburb. She could see the wind blowing through the bushes of Alex's neighbour. She heard the roar of a leaf blower, the cough of a broken car, and thought them to be the most domestic sounds she'd ever heard.

"I can't go, Mom."

She had been on the phone for what felt like hours. Fulfilling Polly's predictions, her mother had called soon after she woke, chirpy about next weekend's extravagant events. Except to Piper, it was more dull, boring and immensely formal. It had been that way for as long as she could remember; and no matter how many tears she'd shed, no matter how many tantrums she'd thrown, she never got a party with a clown and games. Carol told her it was improper and 'below-our-level' to entertain such civilian activity.

She was almost sure Carol had paid other parents to force their kids to attend her parties.

"I just don't understand. What do you even have planned? You never plan for anything in your life, what's got your attention this time?"

Piper gaped, "This time? What the hell does that mean?"

"Language," Carol said mildly. "I mean, last I heard from you, you were looking for a waitressing job."

"So?"

Carol sighed, "Honey, if you had asked, I would've called some of my friends to see if they had an opening in one of their offices. I mean, I'm sure your father would gladly take you in as well."

And that would just add to the list of things you'd hold over my head for the rest of my life, Piper thought.

"I got a job," she said.

"Good for you, honey!" Her mother's voice rose up in pitch. "As what?"

"A waitressing job."

Piper heard a click of a tongue and seethed silently. "Oh, Piper, for goodness sake."

"I'm moving up on the world, Mom. I don't need your charity."

"It is not charity, Piper. I'm just trying to help you, maybe introduce you to some more friends in the party—"

"I said I'm not going."

"How ungrateful can you be?" Carol's temper licked at the surface. "I did all of this—"

"I didn't want you to do any of it!" she exploded. "I never asked you to throw a big fucking party—"

"Language!"

"—and celebrate my birthday every year like I'm turning 18 again. I didn't ask you to and I didn't want you to. You only do this for yourself so you can pretend how close our relationship is, and show off all the new shit you got from God knows what. And I don't want to be in this charade as much as I hate coming home. So if you'll fucking excuse me," she swore just to spite her mother, smiled grimly at the audible gasp she'd heard, "I'm not coming on Saturday."

She jabbed her finger to end the call as she heard the beginnings of a what—or maybe it was a wait. She didn't care. She punched in another number and waited for the other line to pick up.

"Piper!"

"Cal." She had to smile as her heart lightened. It was always soothing to hear her brother's voice. They had gone through the shit childhood together—along with Danny—and knew the parodies their mother could get into. They were basically the main duo of the family, working together like a well-oiled machine. He had given her her first taste of the forbidden alcohol, and she had given him his first black eye when he'd eaten her ice cream cone.

Least to say, they were close.

"I just wanted to ask," she continued. "Did Mom call you?"

She heard a snort. "Why would she do that? I'm basically outcasted, remember? Not even in the long, long list for Christmas gifts."

She clenched her jaw. Carol didn't even call Cal, she fumed, and she said she called the family? "Don't worry," she said through gritted teeth.

"Was she planning your birthday again?"

She knew she could rely on him to remember her birthday and the shit their mother pulled in the past. "Yep."

"Man, I'm sorry. Shit sucks. Want some good news?"

Piper laughed, "God do I."

"I talked to Danny yesterday."

"How is he?" she asked.

"Fine. Better than both of us combined, probably. He was studying for some test, said he'd try and come home for a few days next month or something. He didn't really say anything about your birthday so..."

"Don't worry," she consoled, unfazed by her other brother's absence. "Someone needed to pull our weight in the Chapman Children Crisis, anyway."

"Hell yeah. So how have you been? It's been a while."

She heard rustling, then a contented sigh, like someone had propped their feet on a chair after a long, laborious day. "I know, I know. I'm sorry. I've meant to call, but I've been busy. I got a job."

"Yeah? As what?"

"A waitress," she told him.

"Humble beginnings, Pipes. I like it. Have you told Mom?"

"Yeah. You can imagine her overflowing support in the matter."

He laughed, "I'm sure you're drowning in it. Don't worry, she'll get over it. Where do you work?"

"It's just down the bistro around where I live."

A beat of silence passed before he continued, "I don't really know where you live, but I'll take it."

"Has it really been that long?"

"Yep."

"God, that just sounds sad. We have to—"

She cut herself off when her phone buzzed in her ear. Holding it away from her face, she saw her dad's text to call him. An image of her mother basically holding her dad at gunpoint to text that flashed through her head like a vision. Goddamn it.

"Piper? You okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, sorry. Dad just texted me to call him."

"Probably going to convince you to go. Or, better yet, it's Mom using Dad's phone."

Piper laughed, "I'll call you soon, okay? Love you."

"Love you too, P. See you."

Piper hung up and feeling like a busy phone-woman in a telemarketing, she punched in another number. She breathed a huge sigh of relief when it was picked up and it wasn't her mother.

"Hey, Dad."

"Hey, honey." He sounded tired. "How're you?"

"I'm fine. Did Mom tell you to call me?"

He sighed, "Piper, you know your mother."

Yes, she knew her mother. "I don't want to go to the party, Dad."

"If not for her, then go for me. Whether you're going or not, you know she'll run this thing anyway."

Piper sighed heavily. She knew that. She knew that her mother would cook up a lie about her just to save her ass; according to Carol, by tomorrow, Piper would be in Africa or Brazil 'learning the culture and ways to further her knowledge of the world and its people.'

"And I miss you," he continued. "I haven't seen you in a while."

She watched her weekend evaporate in a puff of smoke. "I miss you too. I guess I can drop by."

"Even if it's for a few hours, sweetie."

"Okay. See you soon, then."

"I...I thought you'd like to talk more. Now that the party has been dutifully discussed."

Piper scrambled for an excuse to hang up the phone, "I actually have somewhere to be. We can save the conversations for Saturday, okay?"

"Alright."

"Bye, Dad."

She pushed to call Cal again.

He answered and said immediately, "No, I'm not going."

"Please? Please, please, please? It'd be so boring without you. And I'd bring Polly but I'm pretty sure she'd rather neck herself than enter the house. Please?"

Cal groaned. She had the same effect on him as his dad's effect on Piper. It was going to be tiring, he thought, but it was his sister's birthday. He hadn't heard from her for a few weeks, let alone see her. But this could easily be overshadowed by seeing his parents. He hadn't seen them in years and he wanted to continue that streak for as long as he lived.

Taking his silence as hesitation, she plowed on, "Maybe I can get someone from work. Hook you guys up or something. Please, Cal. I don't want to be alone in there."

"Do I have to wear a suit?"

"...Probably."

"Goddamn it."

"I know. I'm sorry. Please?"

She heard a sigh and knew she'd won, "Fine. But don't bring a girl, I'm embarrassing as it is."

"You are not embarrassing," Piper cooed. "You are the loveliest and the most charming man."

He chuckled, "I didn't say that so you can stroke my ego. But by all means, continue."

When they hung up a few moments later, Piper's smile dimmed, suddenly tired and weary. All she just wanted to do was lay down and hibernate for eternity. No amount of sleep will prepare her for next weekend. She chided herself for being talked into it—again. She had never—or at least rarely—successfully steeled herself against her dad. He always knew what to say, she thought as her face plunged to the pillow. Always knew how to pull on her heartstrings like a puppet.

Blindly, she fumbled for her phone. She had one more call to make. And this one wasn't going to be pretty.


Whistling, Alex walked to her car, thriving off the success of a very productive day. She managed to recruit more girls, got her spreadsheets up to date and got the money for the Bali trip. She just had one more thing to do.

She slid into the driver's seat and fished out her phone, but before she could open it, it rang in her hand.

Piper.

Almost immediately, she felt a grin split her face before she answered. "Hey! I was just about to reserve a table—"

"Alex."

Something in her tone made Alex pause and frown. "Is everything okay?"

She heard a deep inhale, "I can't go out."

Alex felt her smile and stomach drop, "What?"

"I'm not in the mood. I mean—I...I'll take a raincheck, okay? I have to go...be somewhere. I'll...I'll talk to you soon, promise. Real soon."

"Wait, Pipes—"

"Sorry," was all she said before hanging up.

Alex gaped at the silent phone in her hand. What just happened? Piper was the one that wanted the date, and now she was calling it off? What the hell? she fumed, grateful for the rising anger in her. She dealt better with rage than hurt, anyway. Revving up the engine, she backed out of the parking lot and bulleted for home. If she was lucky, she could catch Piper before she left.

That was if she hadn't already.

She nipped past the intersection just before the light turned red. Blares of angry horns sounded behind her, but she didn't care. She swerved left, then right. It wasn't like Piper, she thought, to impulsively ask for plans then cancel them hours later. Then again...

Maybe it was exactly like Piper and Alex just didn't know it.

All the more reason to continue with the date, she argued, nearly colliding with the car in front of her. The date should've been their get-to-know session. It should've been her ticket in knowing whether she really loved her. It would've worked, she thought. Indubitably.

As she turned into her street, she searched the kerb for Piper's car. Her hope sank lower when she couldn't find it, then settled on the ocean floor when she reached her house without finding it.

Here, my ass, she thought.


"It is not a happy birthday," Piper said.

Polly laughed, lounging on Piper's bed as the blonde struggled to get into the dress Carol had given her. "It's a day for your existence. Of course it's a happy day."

"Not when I'm forced to stand for hours like an idiot saying 'thank you' every five fucking seconds."

"Then sit and say 'thank you'," Polly grinned. "Have you told Alex?"

Piper straightened, forcing a blank expression on her face. She told herself not to feel guilty, not now. Not now, she repeated, when her emotions were all bubbling at the surface. She needed to keep herself together. Just for today. Just for a bit. "Told Alex what?"

"About the party, dummy."

"No."

"How come?"

"We...didn't really talk about today. Haven't talked at all, actually. She doesn't know about June 7th's."

Polly sat up and gaped as Piper moved to tug on her heels. "What do you mean, she doesn't know?"

"Exactly what you said, Pol."

"What kind of a girlfriend doesn't know birthdays?"

"She—well—I—" she stopped and gathered herself. "Not now, Pol. Please."

Polly stayed silent as she eyed her friend. She knew that only Carol can crawl up Piper's ass deep enough to get into the blonde's nerves, and she knew well enough not to prod. Her past experience with Piper's sulkiness had its value.

"Fine," she said, "but you're letting me drive you."

"Cal is coming to pick me up."

"Cal's going?" She knew—vaguely—of Cal Chapman. Weird, silent and disappeared off the face of the Earth whenever he wanted.

"I was no way suffering alone. This is going to be awful, Pol."

"I know, honey." She walked up and hugged the blonde, whose shoulders shook as she fought to maintain stability. "I know."


It was just as she'd imagined.

Wine, polite conversations, fake smiles. That was all Piper could see as she stood in the corner of her childhood home, sulking in her own glass of wine. She watched as older women faced mirrors, peppering their faces with light powder. She could barely feel her own skin under all the gunk her mother had pushed into her hands. Moisturiser, some weird wrinkle-lotion. Piper knew it was her mother's silent way of saying: you look like shit.

Then again, she had been feeling shit. Guilt racked her senses when she called Alex. After the call, she rushed out of the house and never made contact with the woman since. She felt awful about the date. She had been so adamant on having it too. She had suggested it, and she was the one to bail. That wasn't fair on Alex, she thought. She told herself to call the brunette after the party to explain. Maybe Alex will forgive her.

She saw Cal hovering by the buffet table, looking adorable in his rumpled, black suit and tie. His hair was combed back, and she could see little hairs just above his upper lip. He took a fry, then two, then a handful before he guiltily slunk away, causing Piper to smile just a little.

"I knew you had a smile in you."

She turned around to see her dad smile next to her. He was looking pretty dressed up as well. His white hair primly quaffed, his suit showed no signs of wrinkles or disarray. Just as he should be, according to Carol Chapman.

She sighed and turned back to face the party. "This could be my funeral," she said, "and people would be just as dull."

Bill had to chuckle, "It's not as bad. Why didn't you bring Polly?"

"Dad, you know how Polly feels around Mom. Mom is literally a walking scrutiniser heaped in a jewelled bag of bones."

"Stop that," he said mildly, with no real seriousness behind it. "She wouldn't be as bad if you stop trying to anger her."

"My entire existence angers her."

"That's not entirely true."

"So why won't she—or you, for that matter—acknowledge that Cal is here? When he hasn't seen either of you in years."

"I acknowledged him," he corrected. "I saw him dribbling over the food and some girl. He's with Grandma now, probably talking up a storm about trees and music."

"At least some of us are having fun," she muttered.

"You would be if you try, Piper. You won't let yourself have fun."

Piper drank her whole glass in one gulp. "There's nothing here."

"I'm glad you're here though," Bill said.

"I'm leaving soon."

He nodded, hiding his disappointment. "Alright."

Carol walked up to them, all smiles and flirtations, with a man trailing behind her who looked just as joyful. Piper immediately knew why her mother had come, and why she brought the man with her.

"Piper, this is—"

"Troy," the man cut in. "Troy Berns."

"Appropriate," she commented as she firmly shook his hand, "seeing as your sideburns can practically put Wolverine to shame."

She heard Bill choke on his wine as she smiled winningly at her gaping mother. Carol pushed through the shock. "Piper!"

Troy, whose hands flew to his insulted hair, took a big step back. "It's okay," he said, "It's fine. I just...I forgot something. I'll see you later, Carol."

He threw daggers at Piper before briskly walking away.

"Piper," Carol berated. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Doing what you told me to do when I was 5, Mother. Warding away all the people I dislike with words, not violence."

"He was the son of—"

"A bitch," Piper finished and earned a scolding look from both parents. "I don't need a man, Mom."

"Would you rather a woman?" Carol retorted.

Piper snickered. One in particular, yes.

"I want grandkids, Piper. I want to know them. I don't want them to see their grandma as a stone grave. I want to know that my legacy will be passed on properly to bright minds."

Piper could feel her temper rise. Was her whole purpose in life satisfying Carol Chapman's wants? The woman was insufferable, she seethed. Her mother continued to list what she wanted; how she wanted to come to a house with kids, how she wanted to shop for them, give them piano lessons, maybe ballet. If she did have kids, Piper thought, there was no way in hell she would let them grow as she had grown. She opened her mouth to shout, but stopped when Cal sidled next to her.

"How's it going, parents?" He'd seen the ferocity in Piper's eyes and thought it best to step in before she blew off steam in an unconventional manner. Wise decision too, he mused as he all but felt the raging heat radiating off Piper's body.

"Cal." Obviously surprised, Carol blinked at her son. "When did you get here?"

"Piper and I came together, Mom."

"You did?"

"We did."

"Well—"

"And now, I'm leaving," Piper announced, pushing her glass to her mother. She turned to Bill, "I'll call you soon."

She pushed past Carol's shocked expression, through the crowd of dimwits and out the door. Finally, she thought. Like a woman escaping prison, she inhaled deeply, basking in the smell of fresh air.

"You'd think you were suffocating in there."

Piper let out a breathless laugh as Cal walked to her side, "I was."

"I saw them cornering you so I thought I'd step in. You were becoming Hulky Piper."

"I think I'd rather be Elphaba than Hulk. Her shade of green looks better."

Cal laughed, shaking his head. "Whatever you say. Want to head home?"

Piper was about to accept, but thought of something different. It was her birthday. She deserved to at least have some fun. "No," she told him. "I have to do something. I'll get my own ride. I'll call you, okay?"

"Okay," he said, hugging his sister. "See you."

Piper pulled out her phone, her thumb hovering over the name she wanted to call. Pushing through the hesitation, she forced herself to push the name. The call was picked up almost immediately.

"Alex," she breathed. "You answered."

"I've never been left on a date before. So I figured you finally manned up to call me."

Piper sighed, "I'm sorry. I'll explain everything. I promise. Can...can you pick me up?"

"Where?"

She felt tears well up in her eyes. No questions asked, she thought. She told Alex the address, "I'll be outside."

"Alright. I'll be there in 15."

Piper smiled, wiping the tears away. She wasn't as above this as she thought she was. "Okay."