Harsh daylight peeks through the curtains and against Bryn's eyelids as she's awoken, feeling at her heart with a quivering palm. She looks around, realizing her place in Javier's arms. It felt relaxing, chilling. The way he held her while he slept seemed to complete the deal but something in the pit of her chest burned and ached.

Knowing she wasn't good enough for him bit her insides. Seeing his wealth and parents, who were married unlike her own and practically catered to his every need. They trusted him enough to not even have to live with him. Her parents had never trusted her that much. Plus, he was naturally handsome without needing to comb his hair or fix his clothes up. Something neither she nor Harper, have ever been able to do.

She startles into a sitting position, sneaking out of his grip before bringing her feet to the carpet. Her prescription Ray Bans and Ozzfest hoodie were missing. She watches him slumber to somehow comfort her thoughts. Not tossing or snoring like she often saw Harper. His dress shirt creased, the top buttons undone and his hair messier than usual.

This night wasn't supposed to happen. She wanted to forget how she broke down after he brought her to his suite. She was out of his arms when she vomited her breakfast (two Heinekens, leftover Margherita pizza), and slammed her fists into the marble bathroom tiles until her knuckles bruised. He gave her a cigarette and lit it for her like he did when she met him on the Constance steps. She didn't hesitate to lean into him as he sunk his face in her neck, kissed her throat like she mattered.

And now she was here.

Remembering everything made her quicken her pace. She slid on her dirty Converse and threw on her hoodie, frantically searching for her glasses through the cigarettes and cologne bottles on his dresser. Without having the patience, she eventually left without them, stumbling into the main room.

Diamond accents ornament the black piano beside the window. There were no blemishes or gaps ingrained in the wooden kitchen cabinets and the crystal dinner table looked worth millions. It was insane at how wealthy some could be.

She had more to do.

She was still Bryn Blackwell and had tons to fulfill now that her father was gone. Harper and she were the successors to their father's fortune – the fortune Jackson would rather hand to his children before divorcée, Luciana.

For lack of much better word, Jackson considered Luciana a harlot.

She remembers hearing one of their spats before their divorce was finalized. She was hiding in the gap of the hallways, nervously watching them yell the fiercest Italian they knew.

'Luciana, how dare you do that to my children? I knew you were cruel but never thought you'd do such … monstrosities!'

'You're funny, Jack, but I am not amused. I did what was right and if you were in my shoes you would've done the same. You're the one who carelessly left me for that floozy when I was busy with our children!'

'I did no such thing.'

'You're a very convincing liar but my mind is set. I never did for that matter because I wouldn't be surprised if I found out you cheated on me while I was pregnant. The thought of my daughter inheriting your foolishness disgusts me.'

'I should slap you across the face for saying such about my child. From the day we were married to the day I die, I can say I've never … lied or cheated on you with a cheap whore.'

'I doubt the whore was cheap.'

'Hush, I'm not finished. I want you out of my home. The sight of you is beginning to sicken me.'

'Fine, but I'm taking Harper. You may have your oh-so-dear daughter.'

'I'd gladly accept her with open arms and don't talk about my children like they're playthings. I can assure you Harper will not want to leave with you.'

'And why is that?'

'Because I know he cannot be separated from his sister. They are twins and have been together through everything and if I take Bryn from her brother I'm sure she'll no longer be well.'

'Ugh, you create … conflicts with everything! What do you propose?'

'Nothing comes to mind but I only want what's best.'

'You've always been too thoughtful, Jackson. Where are you going after this ends?'

'I'll always be with my children as much as I can but work steals most of my time. It was nice knowing you, Luciana. Truly it was.'

He left the room, his daughter thankful to not being seen, leaving them. He definitely wasn't one to beat around the bush as he humbly gave his thanks to her mother's family before grabbing the first flight out into the States and not hesitating to buy the mansion in Manhattan before returning to his buildings in Switzerland.

That's all it felt like. Like he'd get on a plane and never come back. He'd never see her onstage at Rodney's or see her smash a guitar in a music video like Joan did in 'Crimson and Clover.'

It pierced like daggers through her racing heart.

She grabs her Blackberry and flips it open to check for any missed calls or messages.

Nothing.

Just great.

She needed something, needed drugs.

The simple something that would blow away her troubles, the dazing smoke that would double the intensity of her performances. And when Scott would insult her, she'd feel nothing and only laugh at his attempts at causing her stress. Marcus would hand her another joint and she'd feel like she was floating on a drug-infused cloud.

Memories.

She walks to the window and gazes out, watching rain-full clouds swim through the sky – a storm was likely brewing.

But who even cared?

She looks back to Javier's bedroom, half-expecting him to appear. Seeing she left him so effortlessly but couldn't and wouldn't wait for him. No one ever did for her.

Taking a final glance toward his bedroom door, she dashes for the door. Not bothering to shut it behind her. She only continued her misery-drunk stride – bolting past uniformed maids, room service attendants, confused elders and children with colorful balloons. She didn't check back, she couldn't. Not after everything.

There were only two things on her mind.

Drugs and rock n' roll.

The sex was getting old, anyway.

X

Harper tries to blink himself awake at hearing the startling beep of his alarm clock. He stares over the window and gave himself unwanted fear when remembering Bryn had nearly fallen out of it days ago. He was glad he saved her before something unfortunate happened but his fears were purified when his father had shown up.

Barely within a day, he was discovered dead in his office. His heart breaking at his sister – his twin's heart shatter right before his eyes, an image fit for a crime scene splattered with blood and switchblades hidden behind alleyway dumpsters.

He sure could use a sandwich.

Aside from that, where were Bryn and Tinsley? He clearly remembers sobbing in Tinsley's arms from his caged anxiety causing his meltdown while she ran careful fingers through his hair. He'd said something he can't quite remember and fell asleep locked in her embrace.

It's been awhile since he's felt that good around a girl. But he loved Tinsley since he'd been feuding with himself whether to ask her out properly. They had a great time at Claire's masquerade party, waltzing to a song after his love confession and toasting to his birthday with champagne.

Harper rose from bed and smacks his alarm clock off. He should check if Bryn was around. The last time he'd seen her was at the funeral, staring at their father's body in horror –

Oh, hell.

He shakes his hair and notices the time: 10 AM. Obviously, he couldn't go to school now that he'd be nearly three hours late. Plus, he didn't even have a uniform ready or ironed, his bedhead was worse and he hadn't shaved in a week.

He felt like Brad Pitt.

He grabs his school blazer and threw it onto his bed, scratching his scalp before heading out of his room to pursue Bryn's. The door was ajar and he enters to see the same unmade bed and band posters. Nothing was moved. Like she hasn't been home since yesterday.

Which was probably true.

She was probably in school with Tinsley practicing guitar or drinking Heinekens with friends. Maybe even in the school library with Floria, sitting on the couch and reading sex books.

She was okay. He just knew it.

He'd carry on with life because Tinsley and the ones he cared for gave him the reason to. It'd be easy because he knew Bryn thought the same. She'd never kill herself because of this.

Because despite having to deal with their family throughout the years, suicide was the farthest thing from her mind.

They both had people who cared for them. Claire, Tinsley, Floria, Matthew, Steven, even Javier since he cared for Bryn more than he sometimes. Bryn was reckless and maybe that was another reason they were all so protective of her.

The chiming of his phone forces him out of his thoughts and he slumps back to his room, snatching it off his ruined computer table to notice a new gossip blast on the screen.

Why did he subscribe to them again?

With a roll of his eyes, the page was loaded with a morning headline and full-sized images of his sister.

His eyes widen.

Bryn stood outside the deli she often frequented with friends. They all looked wasted seeing the beer cans in their fists and their grins of excitement. Another picture was focused solely on Bryn. He noticed the gleam in her eyes wasn't there.

The blues of her eyes were soaked in anguish.

Another snapshot was below but he couldn't tolerate on seeing more when he dials someone. Praying for an answer as he watches the ticking seconds on his room clock. The person answers on the fifth ring, their voice slurred with sleep. Harper forces a smile and knew it would go unseen but found it was the only thing he could do at the moment.

"Hey," Harper greets. "I think I need your help."

X

Tinsley tosses rolled tulle onto her bed while she checks her phone for Harper-calls. Her waves severely pinned into a ponytail as she readies her sewing machine, drying sweat off her forehead before preparing the tiny silver needle.

As she conjoins fabric, she thought of Harper and Bryn. She just managed to calm the wreck Harper was becoming since she was unable to discover Bryn's whereabouts. She could've gone anywhere and knowing Bryn, she might've even took a flight to London to hide from wandering eyes, change her name, and eat pork pie for the remainder of her life.

But she saw Javier head after Bryn, which diluted her worry. Even though Javier could be a womanizer, he still had a heart for those in need – especially Bryn, who he'd taken a liking to. It takes time for someone to catch his eye and with his sights set on Bryn, he won't give until he has her. Harper also realized this and if Javier does anything to even near her heart, Javier would end up buried alive.

Don't we all want a brother like that?

Though Bryn and Javier both denied their secret relation, Matt said he caught them on the Constance steps doing something not-so-sweet.

Of course, they already knew of the rumors but denied them before they even had chance to spread.

Let's quote the prized words of the great Bryn and Javier, shall we?

'Me … like Javier? You gotta be kidding. He's hot but … hell better freeze over for me to screw that bastard.'

'Bryn Blackwell? I take no interest in her. She's nothing but attractive. I'd much rather marry a dancer in a horrid Williamsburg bar before putting a ring on her finger.'

Alas, everyone seems to have that disguised spark in their romance and Javier and Bryn seem to have the rockiest romance I've seen in a while.

Tinsley grabs her phone off the receiver and dials Harper. She wanted to make sure he was alright but once he'd fallen asleep, she went home to cease her parents' worry. Thankfully, his staff waited on-hand but she still wished she didn't have to leave.

She wanted to stay with him. Wanted to care for him so he'd never feel alone again, wanted to assure him that she'd always be there. She should've just rejected the calls from her parents' and stayed with Harper for the night.

It was too late now. She could reunite with him later when he'd be well-rested and Bryn would be herself by lighting five cigarettes in rapid succession and wearing her signature leather like a modern-day Belinda Carlisle.

After a few lasting rings, she is sent to voicemail. She sighs and slams the phone in its cradle.

Ring-ring! Ring-ring!

Tinsley shut off her sewing machine and gazes at her home phone. Blinks and reaches over a roll of papery fabric to reach it. "Um, hello?"

You sound awfully surprised.

Not even a proper hello. She already knew the voice.

Tinsley climbs over the gigantic fabrics before twisting the cord in her lap. "I am, actually." she admits with a fluidity to her tone that she only uses on him. "You don't really call me as much as you used to, Javier."

There was a pause on his line and the weakest sigh beside a rustle of clothing. That's true, I apologize and will definitely start calling you more, dear Tinsley. Another pause lingers and noise like a chair scratching hardwood. Anyway, have you seen Bryn?

She couldn't help but arch an eyebrow as her mouth twists into a ghostly smile. "Since when are you asking about Bryn?" she teases. "Are you worried about her?"

It didn't take long for him to answer. No. She could practically see his frown. Harper called me earlier asking about her, I haven't seen her since the funeral. He seemed quite stressed. I think you should call him to cool him off before he catches a heart attack over his missing sister.

She knew he attempted to make this dark-humored but she didn't find it funny in any sense of the world. "Fine, thanks," She crashes her phone on the receiver, not waiting for more.

Seconds later, she unplugs her sewing machine before ripping her plastic Burberry coat off the rack. Not even bothering to change out of her dark jeans and button-down shirt.

She knew Harper was fine. She saved him before he had a chance to do something extreme.

But ... questions still swam in her thoughts.

The main that caused most worry was –

What if Bryn wasn't?

X

Claire yawns as she stirs her stew, blowing off the steam. Her appetite wasn't the strongest today. Maybe a bottle of San Pellegrino and a pack of Orbit would do her justice.

She sits with Dean in the courtyard, prescription frames on his nose. He studies and flips through a pamphlet. She pushes away the plastic tin before returning the lid with a click. Stares at Dean and timidly slides the dish to him. "You know, I never really see you eating," she begins. "you can have this if you like."

Dean smiles and tugs the sleeve of his blazer. "Thanks, Claire, that was awfully nice of you." he told her, placing his notes aside. "You didn't have to. Especially since it smells so good."

Claire smiles, the truest smile she hasn't had in a long time. It almost felt good being generous to the commoner, as her mother would say. She didn't look at him to be that. If so, he was probably the best-dressed compared to the ones she sees in sloppy ties and ruined shirts. Dean was much more proper, classy.

Why couldn't all men be like him?

Harper was probably another one of the only sane boys in school, having the purest heart and strongest arms. Not to mention, his hair. Plus, he was co-caption of the lacrosse team –

As a reply to Dean, she shrugs. "It's much too tasteless."

Dean still seems grateful. "I'm sure it'll be fine. I'm not the greatest cook myself. My mother and I order takeout a lot so we're no professionals."

This brought clarity. Her mother was never the best chef either and if it wasn't for their personal cooks or takeout menus, they'd likely starve each night. But from spending many hours in the kitchen when she was younger, she learnt to make sandwiches and the occasional martini or two.

Dean smiles and she returns it with equal politeness. She was stunned that even she had a loving bone in her body. Maybe Dean was the one to see the normality in her.

Maybe one day he'd know about her crush. Maybe wasn't exactly a chance but …

She wouldn't risk anything.

X

Bryn sat in her room with a bare white T-shirt and two cans of spray paint. She positions the shirt with a can, shakes a can, and adjusts word molds across the white. Narrows her eyes as the liquid black paints a design across the fabric. Filling the words and leaving overpowering punk auras.

She smirks at her work and slides the molds off, fisting a hand in the neckline and stretching before she pulls the shirt over her naked chest and turns to a mirror. Hair a tangled halo and a hunger for drugs in her eyes. She slid into her pants and snags her camera off her bed.

Do it, Bryn. You're supposed to be a dirty bitch. Not an innocent little girl, her mind told her.

She snatches her aviators and knelt around the paint cans, holding the camera lens to her face before smirking like a drug inducer. Positioning a finger up and sliding on her tinted frames.

She felt like Ann Wilson or Nancy. It felt fantastic. Blowing.

Click. Click. Snap.

A true rocker, indeed.

X

Harper hastily reads a Gossip Bee blast, anxiety a torture object while he searches for his sister. It was about Floria hanging with Hayden and Angelina as they attempt to write lyrics for their new band, The Heartbreak Ache. They didn't seem very well since he knew Bryn wrote most of their songs.

Since this morning there was no blast on Bryn. The sun was sunk between the clouds, which were grouped together like attack wolves. He was worried and desperate to find her before something horrible happened. She'd commit suicide and what could he possibly do?

"Oh, Harper," A girl chokes from the distance and Harper stops himself from kicking the cobblestones outside his mansion, nearly tripping on them. He looks and sees Tinsley, her eyes panicked and wide. "Are you okay?"

He felt laughter creep up on him but fought it back. "I've been better." he advises, looking for hope. "I'm worried about Bryn. I haven't seen her all day. No one I know has seen her all day. And she's not even picking up her damn phone."

She shakes her head. "Would you like me to help you search? I may be of some help."

Harper smiles. "I'd like that."

He would really like that if you catch my drift.

"If you don't mind, I'd like to be of assistance as well."

Harper turns and gapes while Tinsley laughs over Harper before she meets the eyes behind her.

She answers and feels her smile.

"Of course, Javier."

X

"One, two … one, two, three –"

"Cut, you dog!"

Bryn dressed in her custom tee and leather pants, throws her microphone down. The stench of cigarettes and booze filthy in the air, torn music sheets scattered under Jack Daniels bottles while Landon slid his headphones down his neck.

Another spat was coming and they all needed to keep it together but with Scott and Bryn in the same room, they hadn't had the tolerance for one another. Not even threats worked, she wasn't in the mood and wouldn't be afraid to carry out her own threats.

"What, Scott? Seriously, man. What?" Bryn demands as she snags a Jack Daniels, swigging it rudely before she shoves the bottle into Adam. "We gotta record these damn songs." Scott smirks, amused at the band's demise but satisfied not with a paycheck but an endless supply of booze.

"You are not in key." he stats and didn't associate his words with venom. "Fix your voice or do whatever dogs do. Vocal exercises, panting, useless shit that I don't hafta know."

Marcus raps his drumstick around a drum and turns to Scott tiredly. "Um, Scott, she always sings that way."

Scott bit the tobacco in his teeth. His teeth were ugly and yellow and broken. She considered paying for his dental treatments if she no longer had to look at them. "Well, that's too bad. She has to sing different. Her voice is too weak. It needs to be like Alice Cooper or Kurt Cobain. Growl, moan, cry! Just make your damn voice louder."

Bryn yawns. "I'm tired," she mumbles, straightening her shirt. Scott didn't look pleased. "that's the only reason my voice is bad today."

Scott shakes his head and chuckles idiotically. "That's too bad. It's either your voice gets louder or you can go flip burgers in Burger King with a few better-looking girls."

Marcus sighs and stood from behind his drums. "We're a band, Scott. You can't always expect us to lose our voices singing."

This brought chuckles when Scott turns around to him with narrow eyes. "I don't care if you need ya your fucking tonsils ripped out! Sing louder!"

Adam turns to Bryn to see her yank the mike stand toward her face while he tunes his bass. She was exhausted and though he cared and didn't want her to collapse, he didn't want to lose his job either.

And suddenly –

Bryn kicks the stand and gets into Scott's face with the ferocity of a tiger. She wished she were taller. "I don't give a fuck! My dad died yesterday! Give me a break, you bastard! Why don't you get a real job? I have money. I don't need this. I don't need any of you."

Scott cocks an eyebrow. "Then go, hotshot. We ain't begging for you to stay."

She shakes her head. "Apparently so."

They all stare at her expectantly and she felt their burning gazes when out the door and into the thundering rain and towards the rough waters of the dank river.

A nice long dive sounded good right about now.

X

Spotted: Mourning B approaching the water of suicide, no booze in hand but the vengeance of Hetfield. I'd sell tickets if I knew where.

Javier chuckles dully and buttons up his coat.

"God, why the hell would she come down here in the first place?" Harper asks while they approach a river behind an old studio, which was said to be haunted with soldiers of ancient wars. Rumor has it, a man in his late-thirties dragged a band around here to record music that will never get sold and practically overdose children.

He's never been so glad for his sister's safety in a nonjudgmental band. Because he knew Bryn would never let one of her bandmates take advantage of her, she seemed to learn her mistake from Pesavento.

Tinsley looks around and notices the sky darkening around her. Indigo laces through the midnight black of night. It looks like a scene two lovers would reminisce about. Just not tonight.

Today, they were looking for the infamous (soon-to-be famous, she claims) rocker, Bryn Blackwell. Surprisingly, you'd think her parents or closest relatives would be in search of this wild one. Nope. We've got Tinsley Hastings (beautiful blonde), Harper Blackwell (an awfully attractive brother), and Javier Dominguez (playboy of the UES.)

Celeb sightings. W00T.

Tinsley cuts short, sneakers having sunk in the clumpy dew as Javier turns to her, surprised and deadpanning. "What's wrong?" he asks as Harper also stops and whips back for Tinsley, choppy bangs matting across his forehead from the rain.

She raises her arm and points ahead as a distant silhouette stood over thrashing waves, staring down at them like the safest sanctuaries. All limbs limp as a puppet's useless body.

Tinsley's slick ponytail stuck to her shoulder and her lip wobbles. "Found her."

Harper's eyes widen and he grits his teeth. "Goddamn! My sister's just a magnet for trouble!" he hisses under the booming thunder, wearyingly rushing to the teen as the waves seemed to reach forward with a murderous intensity. "Bryn!"

Bryn shot around, hair and clothes soaked, mascara and lipstick ugly. She staggers in her platform boots, nearly toppling over before she caught herself on unstable heels, smiling over the rocks. Tinsley gasps and covers her mouth, Javier raises eyebrows.

"You can't scream at someone when they're up that high! She could've hurt herself!" she scolds as Harper moans indignantly and approaches Bryn, who stood on an unsafe clump of dirt. She suddenly took on a warm face and attempts a calm smile. "Bryn, honey, get down before you hurt yourself. Please."

One of her eyebrows arches as she attempts to light a cigarette in the rain. She dissatisfies when the flame dries before she can have it. "Who do you think you are? My mother?" she snarls, wringing her hands and the bitten nails on each finger. "What the fuck are you even doing here? I'm not in the mood for the Mother-fucking-Teresa routine."

Harper sighs, doing his best to placate her. "Bryn, we came to get you. You can't keep beating yourself over Dad's death. He was gonna die sooner or –"

Bryn stumbles again as Javier steps forward. She was definitely drunk on something.

"I rather him have died later, Harper." Bryn said, voice leveling sadly. "I didn't want him to die! You didn't see him before he did! I saw him with a damn crack pipe! And he was always the man to tell us not to do drugs!" She tilts her head for the heavens. "What would happen if I died? Nothing. Nothing!"

Harper's eyes became sympathetic. "If you ... if you died Bryn I'm pretty sure I'd kill myself. You're my twin, we were born together. I lived with you through Pesavento and you with me through the thickness of Mom and Dad's divorce. Don't you dare jump."

Bryn took a threatening step back, egging him on while tiny stones slid into the water with invisible splashes. "Do you think anyone would care if Bryn Blackwell died? I'm pretty sure no one would. They'd probably be glad the bitch is finally gone. I know I would ..." She shrugs and holds herself to the weathered skies. "Like Kurt Cobain … they'll get over it."

"Kurt Cobain has a daughter … who's probably not over it." Harper attempts, remembering only from when Bryn taught him about grunge and 'Smells Like Teen Spirit.' They were sweet moments, even though he didn't care at the time.

"But she's alive and most likely over it now. I'm no good, no one will care."

Tinsley steps to Harper, caressing his arm to ease his anxiety. "I would care." she told Bryn. "Harper would. Claire, Floria, Matthew, Steven … Javier." Javier looks up at Bryn to see her raise both of her eyebrows.

Bryn laughs humorlessly and gazes back over Tinsley. "That's what you don't understand all those people have always loved others. None of these people have ever … ever been able to tolerate me. That's the better thing of me just leaving. It sounds pretty fucking good now!"

Harper growls, a guttural noise that sounded from his stomach. "Bryn, get the hell down! Come on, you think you're worrying no one but you're worrying nearly everyone!"

She shakes her head and toys with the ruined cuffs of her jacket. "Make me, bro."

Suddenly Javier saunters over, hands in the pockets of his coat. He stretches his arm forward and held out one hand quietly. His eyes reveal nothing as he reaches for her.

"Come on." he demands and his voice is warm but forceful. "You're only causing trouble and worrying your brother. So take my hand before you hurt yourself."

Harper stands back and stares, Tinsley tightens hold on him.

Bryn blinks and reaches for his hand. "A-Am I really worrying Harper?" she asks with unknowing innocence, lips parted in her cloudy eyes.

Javier nods, motioning with his fingers. "Yes, you won't worry him if you get down first."

"But …"

"You can't play that game with me. Take my hand or I'll get you with force."

There was a crack from beneath Bryn's boots as her cold fingers grazed Javier's palm. She startles back and heard another crunch from below her. Javier didn't reach for her any further but she was already reeling back with a face frozen with horror that matched her brother's.

The platform under her finally dissolved and she was falling, according to Tinsley's scream.

Javier's wide eyes met hers and he instinctively leans forward to catch her. Without having enough breath for a scream, Bryn fell into the river.

"Oh, God," Harper shouts, startling from Tinsley and frantically trying to unbutton his jacket but before he even had chance, he saw something that stunned him and his hands grew limp on the soaked fabric of his jacket.

Javier had already torn off his coat and dove in without a moment's hesitation. Ripples jump across the crashing waves and nothing left but the song of the hidden insects.

Harper chuckles to himself. "Who would've ever thought ..."

X

The waves dug into her like ice daggers, stabbing her every bone and crevice, jets of dark water attack her ribs while she frantically claws for surface, trying for anything to bring herself up. She would've just overdosed if she knew drowning would've been worse. Painkillers and sleeping pills make magic.

Then she realized something. She didn't want to die anymore. She wanted to be rescued or wanted her hair to quit blinding her. She should've hacked it off with rusty kitchen scissors if she knew this was planned.

Drowning hurts, painful like acupuncture. The water scorches her like an open flame and singes through her mouth and into her lungs. She couldn't even make out a last whimper. All she wanted to do was live and she couldn't even do that anymore.

Was that so much to ask?

She felt another wave slam her in the chest and the wind being thumped out of her. The lightning waves scream like calls from Hell and all she wanted was for someone to shout her name. That someone she knew would appear somewhere to show they cared. Maybe one day, maybe for someone else.

Goddammit. She watches too many clichés.

Something caught her sleeve and her arms erupt in shivers while she is dragged to the light. Her back arches and her frame goes fatally rigid, muscles seemingly surrendering on her. Her vision falters and the thickness of black spots blooms across the remains, blanketing it in darkness.

There was darkness, pure darkness. Nothing else.

Hacks and coughs are heard and her head bobs over the surface. She could no longer see but it was as if her hearing had improved in this stint of distress.

An arm swung under her knees and she is taken off the ground. It felt like she was floating. Her head slumps against someone's shoulder, body lifeless and the freezing winds overwhelming her as she shivers, digging her nails into her palms, hands quivering manically.

"God, is she okay? Are you okay?" The voice is familiar. Who could it be?

"She's fine, I got her. I think she's just in shock." Another familiar voice, the coolness of her savior. When he speaks, she feels him shift her in his arms and she liked the feeling somewhat but then hears him grunt.

"Oh, no! Your hand –"

" –is fine." he finishes off and she feels his fingers shiver beneath her legs. The hand over her shoulders is cold and strong like the slash of a knife. "Let's just get out of here."

"Fine. But want him to take her? I think you might need stitches." A girl. Some girl. She had a nice voice. Too sweet like a friend. Was she?

"I'll be alright. I'm more worried about her."

"She'll live. I can tell you she's handled worse. But, hey … why'd you do it?"

There was silence, a thickening pile. A desperate whimper escapes her.

"Because it was the right thing to do."

Those words never seemed so calming as Bryn Blackwell drowns into the warm waters of unconsciousness.

X

Another chapter finished, I hope you all liked it, it turned out to be a lucky 6,000 words. I wasn't necessarily planning on that but this chapter actually brought me some clarity and I loved how the ending turned out.

So Bryn's alive … or is she? Kidding, she's alive so far after nearly killing herself but still living and her savior I think you all know who that is. ;)

Another might take longer though because I'm planning to double the romance and drama! I hope you enjoyed though!