...

...

...

I throw away the memories, I throw them away with tears

So I won't have any hope,

So my longing heart won't even know

Even though I painfully push you away (I wait for you)

I don't think I can stop missing you (I don't think it can be helped)

I don't think I can let you go.

-Lie

...

"Hop in, babe."

Riven motioned to his fiancée with a jerk of his head, and she smiled at him, flashing her perfectly white teeth. Alyia Thomas was a former model and judge, and was now known for being engaged to Riven. Sweeping the runway with her graceful, 5'9 frame, luscious caramel hair, and eyes green as sea glass, she was highly praised and renowned for her catwalk. Riven couldn't help but compare her to Musa: though it was no lie that Alyia looked stunning in her cocktail dress, he found that he'd always preferred Musa's slightly boyish style. He remembered when he saw her transform, he was always stunned by how perfectly she filled in her miniskirt, and the last time he saw her, her hair had grown so long, giving her an exotic, sensual look.

"Are we choosing the rings tonight?" Alyia asked, distracting him.

"I booked the dress fitting today instead," Riven said, in a brusque tone. He didn't like to be distracted from his thoughts.

"I was really looking forwards to choosing our rings, though…"

Riven fought the urge to roll his eyes. Yeah, isn't life a bitch, he thought to himself, feeling irritated. After Musa had left him, his father had introduced him to Alyia. The daughter of a prestigious lawyer, her older brother was also training in law, and Riven's father felt that they'd complement each other well. Sure, Riven agreed that if he hadn't met Musa earlier, Alyia would definitely be his type. She was nice enough, and always greeted her father properly. She wasn't stupid but intelligent, and didn't allow anyone to step over her. Confident and compelling, she was a breathtakingly beautiful girl who was completely devoted to him. Life couldn't get better, right?

But he needed more than that.

Pulling his car up to the curb, he walked out and opened the door for Alyia. He couldn't think about Musa anymore. This was his new life-after graduating from being a Specialist, he'd become the main Defence teacher at Redfountain. Everyone in the school always talked about how they'd do anything to score a hottie like Alyia. He should be grateful that such a girl would like him, too. And her family was rich and successful-his father constantly reminded him of how proud he was making him by marrying this woman.

"Hand." She sniped, staring at him.

Grabbing her hand and entwining their fingers, Riven sighed.

No matter how high maintenance she was, it would be worth it, right?

"What do you think about this one, Riven?"

She twirled around, holding the folds of her white dress in her hands. Full of ruffles and veils and lace, the attendant quickly pulled open the clasp of an oblong-shaped, velvet box. "Because you're one of our VIP guests, we offer this jewellery as compliments and part of our thanks," she said, smiling gently. Surprised, Aliya tenderly took out the pearl necklace and matching earrings, and placed them on carefully while pushing away some stray hairs from her forehead. "I really like it, but I think that it's a bit short for my style. I want the hem of the dress to fan out on the ground, and I don't want a veil-instead, I want a crown around my head. My bridesmaids are going to be wearing purple and silver," she said demurely.

Why was I even here, really? Riven asked himself as he watched her, while flipping through the men's catalogue.

The attendant bowed her head, and took Alyia to the dressing rooms to change.

Putting his hand on his head tiredly, Riven looked out of the shop windows. It was a huge store, with nearly three floors, and as posh as a five-star hotel. There were grand chandeliers and golden escalators, all decked out with designer furniture and gilded drapes. As he stared at the busy street from the first floor, he noticed a girl on a bike. She was dressed in military boots, along with an olive jacket and ripped skinny jeans. With her wispy, black hair, and dark brown eyes, she looked like a normal biker zipping through the streets of Gardenia.

Until Riven saw her face.

Was that-Musa?

He got up from his seat, the sound of the chair moving alerting some assistants. Peering closer, his eyes widened as he got a clear glimpse of her. "Is there something wrong, sir?" One of them asked, staring at him anxiously, hoping that he wasn't dissatisfied with their products.

"No-n-nothing. Sorry," he mumbled, pulling the chair back and sitting down on it.

Impossible.

That couldn't be her, because there was a little boy who was sitting stoically on the back of her bike.

"Hold on to mommy tightly, alright?"

Rhythm nodded, clutching on to her waist, as she rode the bike amongst the busy crowd. As Musa veered between and through huge clumps of people, she sighed. Though it was nearly dark, the roads were still busy and often fully packed with pedestrians. "You know, Rhy, you should really be starting kindergarten. We tried preschool last year, and though we didn't finish it, I'm sure you'll love kindergarten," She said to him, while he rested his head lazily on her back. "As much as you love following me to the studio, education is still really important," She added as fervently as possible in an attempt to coax him, which was useless. "I really don't want to go, mommy, I hate it there," he complained as Musa smoothly rounded a bend and entered the parking lot of her apartment. Shaking her windblown hair, she parked the bike and took Rhythm off, carrying him in her arms. "Why? You get to make friends there, the teachers are nice, and you learn new things everyday."

"But they say that I have no daddy."

Musa bit her lip. She knew that was her fault, and that Rhythm didn't mean to make her guilty. It was the truth, after all. Smiling gently, she shook her head.

"Rhythm. You do have a daddy." She said, looking Rhythm straight in the eye.

He looked back at her questioningly.

"Me. I'm both your daddy and your mommy," she said sincerely.

Rhythm burst out in laughter. "How can you be both my daddy and my mommy? My daddy has to be a real man!" He said, grinning at his mother's foolishness. "Thanks, but, I like you as mommy the best." Musa chuckled at her son's sweet innocence, but a tinge of worry was still stuck in the back of her mind. As she walked into the lobby and was whisked to her floor in the elevator, she couldn't help but run the thought over in her mind.

What would happen when Rhythm asked to see his daddy?