A/N: Thank you for all the encouraging words in response to my last author's note. You ladies sure know how to make someone who writes feel better about themselves, don't you? This chapter is dedicated to guest aka writer who doesn't write fanfiction - it's great to have someone share the same sentiments. Keep that writing passion burning!

With that, ladies & ladies, I present you - Chapter 6. Love it, hate it, fire away at the end in a review. I was really nervous about writing this chapter for some reason and would love to hear some feedback, whether good or bad.

[/edited] By the way, this chapter was written on a rush of adrenalin triggered by the news that naomily is coming back. :)

(I tell myself to keep this chapter to 5000-word, but we all say that, don't we?)

Naomi's blue eyes harbored a tinge of wonder and fascination as she cautiously caressed the sleeping face beside her, her fingers lightly tracing the contours along her cheekbones. The Creator of the world was definitely in a good mood when it made this human being in front of her. Every bit of her was just perfect. So perfect Naomi wondered what she was doing on Earth, when she clearly belonged with the rest of the gods on Mount Olympia, somewhere in Greece. Naomi had to hold back a giggle as the movement of her fingers brushing past the adorable little button nose made it scrunch up instinctively. As the redhead stirred and brought her hand from under the covers to rub her nose, Naomi froze and watched her intently, ready to shut her eyes and pretend to be asleep any moment the goddess in human form in front of her awoke.

But the goddess just kept on sleeping. Moments later, the hint of a smile broke out on her godly features, suggesting that she was dreaming of something sweet and divine. Naomi's heart skipped a beat as the redhead bit her lip and smiled coyly, and she wished with all her might the dream involved her in some way.

"Fuck, Naomi," the redhead muttered with her eyes still shut, as her hand slipped back underneath the covers to god knows where (Naomi willed herself not to think). The poor blonde's eyes almost popped out from the back of her head as the form in front of her started writhing uncontrollably and moaning loudly in between heavy gasps for breath. Fuck, Emily was dreaming about her, and from the looks of it the dream was far from being sweet and divine. Naomi swallowed hard as she watched the redhead bite her lip so hard it bled, making her feel a rush of blood to her lower torso. Jesus Christ, was it ridiculous to be jealous of yourself? Because right now, Naomi wanted nothing more than to kill the self that was in Emily's dream.

"Kiss me," whispered Emily with her eyes closed, and Naomi wasted no time in pondering whether she was addressing her in or outside the dream… Naomi let out an irrepressible moan as her lips were met with a tenderness she'd never experienced before. Impossible. There was no way a pair of human lips could be that soft and tender, and it confirmed what Naomi had all along suspected: that Emily was indeed a goddess sent from the heavens to rescue her from the mediocrity of mortal kissing. Naomi smirked slightly as her hand clung onto the back of Emily's neck (which felt incredibly soft as well), and nibbled repeatedly on those divine lips. Hmm, so that's what heaven tastes like…

As Naomi pulled Emily's soft, naked form closer to press against her own, she decided to ignore a thunderous crash that had just rung out somewhere far off and attend to the more pressing matters at hand instead. Her hands slid down from Emily's collarbone to seek out two mounds she'd been aching to hold in her palms, but somewhere along the frantic groping Naomi felt something was amiss. She furrowed her brows in confusion as she felt the length of the slim body she was holding in her arms. Something was very strange indeed – the body in her hands was entirely flat: no tits to hold onto, nothing…?

Naomi's eyes shot open only to realise in horrors of all horrors, that the body she'd been groping with her hands was the body of one James Fucking Cook. Her eyes almost fell out of their sockets as she saw on closer inspection that Cook had put on make-up and was fluttering his eyelashes in a nauseating manner. Naomi's jaws dropped wide open in shock on instinct, seeking some form of verbal release from this petrifying image that would have well sent Frankenstein cowering in fear, but no sound escaped her mouth. Why, oh, why hadn't someone grabbed a red-hot glowing stoker from the fireplace and blinded Naomi with it when she was a baby? If they had, she wouldn't have had to suffer from these painful visions twenty-three years after she was born. Naomi felt a second round of nausea take over her at the sight of Cook grinning and triumphant in his after-sex glow, lying on his side in all his glory as he chirped coyly at her stupefied face, "Good morning, Naomikins."

Naomi screamed like she'd never screamed before as she sprang up on the bed, the covers that were on top of her thrown haphazardly on the floor. The beads of perspiration that had formed on her forehead trailed down her temples in streams. Jesus fucking Christ, what the fuck was that? Naomi took a moment to study her surroundings before realising that she was in a different room now. As she spun her head to her left, she saw that Cook wasn't there anymore. In fact there was no one else on the bed, save for a bolster pillow lying next to her. Naomi scratched her head violently in confusion. As the fog in her head started to clear slowly, she caught sight of a couple of saliva stains on the pillow. A furious blush erupted on her face as realization hit her. That was a dream? Fuck, the next time she saw Cook she was definitely going to kick him in the nuts for scaring the shitting daylights out of her. And no thanks to the crazy things in her brain responsible for this sweet-dream-turned-scary-as-fuck-nightmare. Seriously, how did her gorgeous Emily turn into mascara-wearing Cook? If Freud had been right about dreams being representations of our repressed erotic desires, she'd have to go and see a doctor about it. Fast. And really, Naomi Campbell? Having erotic dreams about Emily while making out with a pillow? What are you? Fucking teenage boy with raging hormones?

Naomi groaned as she buried her face into the pillow in embarrassment. After a while, she lifted up her head slowly and studied the room she was in. She hadn't even had time to make out where she was exactly when she felt the presence of someone watching her and instinctively turned her head to the door. Sure enough, there was a blonde around her age in a dirty old t-shirt and overalls stained with mud (or the likes of it), standing by the door frame and staring at her with wide, surprised eyes. The first thoughts that came to Naomi's mind was – how long has she been standing there? and holy shit, did she witness the pillow-kissing? For the love of God, please let it be that she just arrived and saw nothing.

"I'm awfully sorry," the girl began apologetically with a sheepish grin on her face. "Did the noise wake you up? I knocked into one of my clayware in the other room and it fell to the ground."

Naomi stared blankly at the stranger with hair tied into a ponytail and hands that looked like they were dipped into a pot of mud. She had opened her mouth to say something in response but she couldn't think of anything to say. There were too many questions in her head needing answers. Firstly, who was this girl? And why was she talking to her like she was an old friend? Wait a minute, hang on. Maybe she was still dreaming after waking up from the last dream. That's why everything's still so bizarre. You know, like Inception. Dream in a damned dream in another damned dream in yet another…

"I'm Pandora, Emily's flat mate" said the chirpy blonde, cutting in Naomi's thoughts. "You can call me Panda if you like. I'd have given you a hug if it weren't for these dirty hands," she added with a friendly grin. "But don't worry; I'll make it up the next time!"

The string of words that Panda had just said pretty much went through Naomi's brain without being processed, save for the two most important words she heard. Emily's flat mate. Did she just say Emily's flat mate? And by Emily… she meant her Emily right?

"Ems had to fly to Greece this morning," said Panda kindly as she saw that Naomi was still in a daze. "She told me to take good care of you and you could stay as long as you want. If you need anything, I'll be in the next room with my pottery," she added with a warm smile.

Naomi swore she felt herself gushing. So, it was her Emily. She had to bite her lip hard to keep from grinning as images of Goddess Emily literally flying back to Greece to join the rest of the communion of gods on Mount Olympia surfaced in her mind.

"You alright there?" ventured Panda again, seeing that Naomi was nervously biting her lip.

"Y-Yeah," Naomi managed out finally, returning a polite smile. "Sorry. I'm a little dazed and lost right now."

"I can see that," replied Panda in amusement.

"I'm Naomi, by the way," offered Naomi.

"I know that," said Panda with a wink. "Heard much about you," she added rather suggestively.

"You're making ceramics?" asked Naomi, her brain suddenly registering what Panda had mentioned before.

"Right! It's a hobby of mine," enthused Panda, the excitement returning to her voice as she talked about her passion. "I know people our age aren't usually into that. But I like it. It's one of the rare activities that can keep me still for hours," added Panda cheekily.

"How long have you been making them?" asked Naomi.

"Six years… and two months, I think," said Panda, her brows furrowing as she did some calculations in her head. "OK, I need to get back to my pottery… Yell for me if you still need anything!" said Panda with a grin as she disappeared hastily round the corner.

Despite the fact that Naomi hadn't really had a grasp on what's actually going on, she couldn't help but smile at the warmth that radiated from this stranger's ultra-friendly and easy-going demeanor while they exchanged pleasantries. Pottery. The only other person whom Naomi knew was into pottery, other than her 68-year-old neighbor Mr Potts (no kidding, that was his real last name), was …

Panda's head popped out suddenly from the side of the door frame.

"Oh, and I just have to ask you this first, because Ems refused to tell me anything last night. Are you by any chance someone famous? I know you must be because I think I know you but I don't think you know me," asked Panda with a curious look on her face.

Naomi chuckled silently. She lost count of the number of times people had asked her the exact same question, but somehow Panda had managed to ask it in an adorably refreshing way.

"I sing and play for the band Ace of Wands," replied Naomi with a quiet smile.

For a moment, Panda stood at the door with a blank expression on her face while Naomi's answer sank in.

"Whizzer!" burst out Panda as her eyes lit up suddenly. "You mean like the real Ace of Wands?"

"Well, as far as I'm concerned, we're pretty real," she said cheekily.

"Oh my god," began Panda. "I get it now! Naomi! Naomi Campbell! You're Naomi Campbell! The band's frontman!" She shook her finger wildly as realization hit her.

Naomi nodded in mild amusement as she watched the blonde bouncing on her feet in front of her.

"Jesus, does Emily know that her girlfriend's a celebrity?" asked Panda, still wide-eyed. "I mean, given her knowledge of anything non-geeky, or lack thereof, I wouldn't be surprised if she didn't know you're famous."

"Oh no, no," Naomi began protesting. "I'm not Emily's girlfriend."

"You aren't?" asked Panda, her face a look of utter disbelief.

"No, we're just friends," said Naomi, her face falling as her mind flashed back to Cook's party the night before. Or maybe not. Naomi thought of the conversation she had with Emily outside Cook's house and the sensation of her heart being ripped apart was tearing through her entire body yet again. Emily Fitch, the one person who had been pervading her thoughts ever since the first time they met, had given her the red card. Emily Fitch, the one person that Naomi wanted more than anything else in the world, had wanted her out of her life. The pain from within almost killed her on the spot as she stood alone in the dark watching Emily slowly slipping away from her…

"Sorry," said Panda, jerking Naomi out of her thoughts. "I thought you were her girlfriend because last night when she carried you back with Freddie she looked so worried about you and all…"

Naomi lit up at the piece of information that was flashing in her mind.

"Was she really?" asked Naomi.

"Yeah, you know. Em's usually so calm and all, but last night her brows were knitted together permanently it looked like she had a unibrow," said Panda, giggling slightly at her own joke. "Plus, she brought you back home. She never brings girls over. Well, not never. But not since a long time anyway. But then again, you were in a pretty bad shape, so I suppose she just brought you here to put you up for the night."

Naomi's heart did a little skip at what Panda had said. Emily was worried about her.

"So you're okay now?" Panda asked Naomi, eyeing the latter up and down with concerned eyes.

"I'm fine, just suffering from a little hangover I guess," said Naomi. "Was I really in a bad shape last night?"

"Well, you sure looked like you were off your tits …" replied Panda with a grin on her face. "Ho ho, I meant you looked pretty wasted! And yeah, you couldn't stand on your feet, they had to … Oh Jesus blimey Christ! My pottery! The wheel's still spinning!" added Panda with a wide-eyed look on her face as if she realised for the second time that she had left the wheel spinning and disappeared at once from the door. Naomi smiled as she heard Panda's screams of panic ringing out from other parts of the house and the familiar rhythmic humming coming from the other room.

Naomi knew the sound of a pottery wheel spinning when she heard one. How would she not? She remembered waking up to the unyielding "rattle-tattle, rattle-tattle" on Sunday mornings when she was still staying at home. The first time she was unceremoniously jerked awake by the relentless pounding of the machine she had thought a Deutsche Bahn was driving past her basement below her room. Jumping out of bed, she stormed downstairs still in her bed hair and pajamas, her ferocious blue eyes seeking out the source of the noise that had woken her up and that had revealed a glistening instinct to kill. Gina had looked up from arranging her flowers at a fiery Naomi who had leapt down the stairs, and her face was instantly replaced with a look of panic and guilt as she hastily pointed to the basement with a guilt-ridden mumble, "Thomas." Now, Naomi was a sweet-tempered, patient and understanding daughter, Gina had absolutely no doubt about that. But the latter had come to realise that those brilliant qualities of her charming daughter, however wonderful, tend be evasive during a certain period of the day. To say that Naomi was not a morning person like her dad would be a gross understatement. Morning Naomi simply didn't exist. In her place was this depraved monster who looked like Naomi but behaved nothing like her as she stormed around the house in a mood fouler than a piece of century-old blue cheese, snapping at anyone at the slightest provocation. Gina had ingeniously learnt to steer clear of her daughter during those rare times Naomi had to be awake in the morning, but this day she had totally forgotten about her when Thomas came over wanting to borrow the basement for use and she had unwittingly said yes. Gina bit her tongue in guilt and felt sorry for Thomas as his impending doom in the form of Monster Naomi hurtled down to the basement.

"What the hell is that noise about, Thomas?!" yelled Naomi as she reached the bottom of the stairs and was greeted with the sight of Thomas seated under the lone bulb in the room, shaping a piece of rounded grey clay structure on a rotating plate.

"Morning sunshine," said Thomas with a smile as he turned briefly to Naomi, seemingly unfazed by the blonde's foul mood and vicious glare. "Mr Potts gave me this when I went over to help him fix his pipes last night."

"What did he do that for?" Naomi hollered with an incredulous look, making Thomas chuckle. "Does he have something against me?" asked Naomi, her brows furrowed in extreme annoyance,

"Relax, little tiger," said Thomas with a laugh, looking genuinely pleased with himself as his eyes focused on the piece of clay in front of him that looked like a vase now. "I'm having so much fun with it. You should try this out, Naoms. C'est trop de la balle!" added Thomas excitedly with a satisfied grin on his face.

"Thanks, but no, thanks," replied Naomi sharply as she turned and scooted back up the steps, still irritated that her sleep got disrupted.

It was only on another occasion a week later, (when it was in the afternoon and she had had enough sleep), when Naomi came to really understand the seriousness of her best friend's interest in his new-found hobby. Naomi knew Thomas' steadfast personality had meant that whenever he picked something up, he would go through all the way with it, as he had done with winning first at their school's English chess competition despite having learnt only a couple of years before, and rising to be the star runner on the school athletics team. Thomas was the kind of person who was slow to show an interest in anything, but when he did, you could be sure that the thing he was interested in was here to stay. The passion he had this time for his pottery-making, Naomi dared to say, was definitely unparalleled. Naomi knew that because after that day, Thomas started taking informal lessons from Mr Potts, and in less than three months after he started he had managed to churn out more than a hundred pieces of clayware whose quality had been given his teacher's stamp of approval. Thomas offered a tenth of those to Gina as a thank-you gift in return for the use of the basement, which the latter was more than delighted to accept on behalf of her flowers. Over time, Naomi realised that Thomas wasn't just fooling around with the whole clay business, and she'd learnt to sleep through the noise of "trains" rattling under her room every Sunday morning. She had teased Thomas in jest for his out-dated, old-fashioned hobby whenever she found him spending hours with his ceramics in the basement, telling him that "pottery was ancient art for equally ancient people". Thomas would just laugh and shrug it off in response, saying pottery was a timeless art, and it didn't discriminate by age. Or sex or skin color, for that matter, from the looks of it now. Naomi smiled at the thought of Panda working on her pottery next door. Seemed like she had just inadvertently stumbled upon the soul mate of her childhood best friend.

Naomi glanced around the room from where she was sat on the bed. She still couldn't quite believe it. She was in Emily's room. She had slept in Emily's bed, for heaven's sake. She racked her brains hard to recall what had happened last night, but all that surfaced in her mind was a blurry mess followed by a searing pain through her temples. She remembered wallowing pathetically in despair after Emily left her in the cold outside… There seemed to be some guys who clamored about her and tried to chat her up throughout the night, but the faces were hazy impressions now. To tell the truth, she hadn't paid much attention to them anyway, her mind was constantly distracted by the sight of Emily dancing with that blonde girl, which she only stupidly realised last night, was her girlfriend. Why, of course Emily Fitch had a girlfriend. Why in the world wouldn't she? Emily was beautiful, intelligent, gorgeous, sexy, adorable. And she drove a fucking plane. That alone had to up her desirability scale by a hundred, wouldn't it? Why hadn't it occurred to her that there would be tons of women throwing themselves at the object of her crush? Naomi couldn't believe she had been so blinded by love that she had imagined that Emily liked her as well. That was just, well, fucking embarrassing.

She drank herself to oblivion. It was stupid and juvenile and teenage angst all over again, but Naomi couldn't help it. The pain was too much for her to bear. It was revelation, rejection and eviction all on the same night. Not only did she find out the painful truth that Emily hadn't liked her at all and the latter's heart was already taken by someone else, she was asked by Emily herself to disappear from her life, no thanks to all the complications that came with her screwed-up life as a celebrity. For a while, Naomi stood rooted to the pavement outside after Emily left, the burning sensation inside crippling her and thieving her of her ability to move. She stood there like an idiot until Seth came running out of the house to tell her that they had been looking for her to perform another number. Naomi fell straight into his arms and broke down in tears. She'd never felt more stupid in her entire life. She didn't understand it. Emily and her hadn't even had anything going on, they had barely known each other; yet the pain Naomi felt then was as if she was experiencing the loss of someone close to her. It was ridiculous. Seth took her silently in his arms, confused but thoughtful enough not to ask any questions. After a while when Naomi was calm enough, they returned inside the hall and started playing their last number for the night. It was all Naomi could do as she stood there before the microphone to not let the tears flow as she sang, "Stolen". Yes, Emily Fitch had stolen her heart, and now she'd mercilessly and unwittingly ripped it apart.

After their gig, Erik and the rest bought her a round of booze to cheer her up. They all got really drunk, and for a moment Naomi had managed to forget all that drama with Emily. Seth had to leave halfway for a family emergency, and the boys continued playing drinking games, cheering Naomi up with their funny antics. Effy had long slipped off to somewhere in the corner, making out with some bloke in the dark. Naomi and Erik were still roaring in laughter over something Dan had said when Erik spotted a pair of fit-looking babes in the crowd and nudged Dan at once in the arm. Naomi caught them exchanging perving looks and didn't want them to forgo having fun just to keep her company, and had reassured them she was fine, egging them to go get some. The twins grinned at each other and took off without looking back.

With the distractive powers of the twins gone, it didn't take long before Naomi's attention found its way back to Emily again. The sight of Emily slow dancing with the girl on the dance floor was too much for Naomi to bear, and for a moment she contemplated leaving the party to go home. That was when two blokes came up to her from nowhere and offered to keep her company. Usually, Naomi would have been wary and turned them down in an instant, but not this time. Tonight, she desperately needed some form of diversion to keep that pain away. As she took the glass of vodka from the man's hand, she downed it in a single swig.

Soon after, everything became a blurry mash. The vodka had been really good. After a few more shots, things around her started having this dream-like effect about them. Naomi swore she hadn't laughed so hard in a long time, and for the first time that night, Emily was swiped clean from her mind. She found herself in this fairytale land where everything was so tiny and amusing. There were all these little dwarves who were dancing around her feet as she climbed up the steps to the top of her castle, and the soldiers who brought her to rest on her princess' bed had helped her undress. She remembered watching a rebel knight barge into her room and fight with the soldiers. The knight was eventually subdued of course. He then tried to escape and Naomi stopped him, warning him not to do so, for she was definitely taking him prisoner that night for sure. And then, … she couldn't remember what happened after. Oh, what a load of crap for a dream.

How in the world did she end up at Emily's apartment though? Naomi had no idea. Panda said she was in a bad shape when Emily and Freddie brought her back the night before. She probably puked all over the place from all the alcohol poisoning she put herself to. Maybe Cook saw it and told Emily to take care of her on his behalf. Then again, Cook was probably getting some at the time she was throwing up – he was likely the last person at the party to be worried about her. And that leaves only the possibility of Emily spotting her in her puking frenzy and coming over to check on her. Ooh, that must not have been a pretty sight. Still, Naomi couldn't help smiling at the thought that Emily was still concerned about her enough to disregard what she had said before and bring her back home.

Naomi shifted her gaze to the walls around her. Someone once told her, you could tell a lot about a person from her personal bedroom. For a start, there were only a few pieces of furniture in Emily's room. Minimalistic, just like the impression Emily had given Naomi the first time they met – simple, unpretentious and no-nonsense. There was a study table next to the bed, with a laptop perched on top and a few books on aviation placed tidily next to it. On the other side of the bed there was a wardrobe with a poster of Einstein in it sticking his tongue out cheekily. In one corner of the room a shelf stood tall, neatly packed with books from top to bottom. Right next to it several exquisite model airplanes were hanging from the ceiling. Naomi stood up to take a closer look, and that was when she noticed the photographs that were spanning the wall for the first time. Pasted above the snapshots was a poster with a quote Naomi recognised came from Mark Twain, "Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines, sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover."

Naomi studied each of the photographs intently. Upon closer look she realised that they were shots taken at various places across the world. The first one showed an endless expanse of blue and a hint of setting sun on the horizon. The caption on the photograph read, "Marseille, France: As I watched the sunset on the rocks I contemplated bathing in the Mediterranean. It was so tempting, to jump in and feel whole with the universe; to feel reborn in the arms of nature. But alas, fear of dying alone in a foreign land from hypothermia held me back. As always, fear is the thing that stops me from letting go completely. One day, I'll be back though."

Naomi's eyes roamed to the next picture, an underwater shot of Emily looking adorable in diving goggles and a snorkeling mask and posing in front of a big shark of some sort swimming past behind her. That caption read, "Donsol, Philippines: Happiest day of my life. I fucking swam next to three whale sharks - one right of me, one left of me, and one under me! It was fucking brilliant." A smile that matched the smiley face hand-drawn at the end of that caption broke out on Naomi's face.

The next shot showed Emily and a fit-looking brunette posing on what looked like a public bus with a young, good-looking lad with shades behind the steering wheel. "Verona, Italy: Fittest bus driver in the history of mankind with the biggest heart ever, Nero, saved our non-Italian sputtering asses by dropping us off at our hotels after we stupidly missed our stop. Gotta get me one of those Italian babes next time, man."

As she examined each of the next photos, Naomi was intrigued. A part of her felt intrusive to be in Emily's room, going through facts of the latter that she never had known before. After all, the redhead had made it pretty clear the night before that she wanted out of her life. (Naomi even suspected work was just an excuse to take flight before she had woken). She almost felt like a stalker then, snooping around Emily's room hungrily taking in every bit of information she could absorb about her. But the truth was, Naomi couldn't help herself. It's stupid, it's crazy, but somehow it had made her heart flutter learning these little things about Emily. She would learn everything about her, if she could. Naomi was utterly fascinated as her eyes continued to scrutinize the photographs on the wall. Singapore. Japan. India. Mexico. Brazil. New Zealand. Nepal. Cambodia. Seemed like Emily had already been to a truckload of countries and had an array of experiences in those lands. Sure, Naomi had travelled to some of these places herself on their band's world tour, but she found herself wondering then, how it would be like to be exploring these lands, with her hand tucked safely in Emily's. She felt a rush of heat to her face as she recalled the delicate feeling of the redhead's fingers laced between hers on that fateful night in Bangkok. It was hopeless. She was hopeless. Hopelessly in love.

Naomi arched her brows in surprise as Cook's trademark toothy grin in the photograph on the far end caught her eye. He had his arms around Emily, who, despite the fact that her blazing red hair was flying messily about in the wind, was smiling like the sun. Naomi couldn't repress the smile that broke out on her face. Next to Emily in the photo stood Freddie and JJ, who were making funny faces and fooling around. The four of them were dressed smartly in their pilot cadet uniform, leaning against the side of a small jet plane that was behind them. The caption read, "Perth, Australia: Last day at Jandakot. All of us graduated, including Cook! Now we're all full-fledged pilots, with licenses to kill. You've been warned, people. Fly at your own risk."

The smile on Naomi's face faded slightly. Cook had rung her up the week before to invite her band to play for his party, after learning she was back in Bristol, and she had agreed instantly. The duo was extremely close towards the end of their high school years, much to the annoyance of Thomas, who hated Cook and his stupid gang for their obnoxious and bullying ways. But after graduation, Naomi became busy with the band, while Cook worked several odd jobs for a few years before applying to become a pilot at the local airline. The two hadn't been in contact for quite a while before Cook's party. Naomi had known for a long time that Cook was a pilot working in the same company as Emily, but she had somehow failed to connect the dots together before attending the party. Seeing Emily at Cook's house had knocked the wind completely out of her head.

Naomi glanced at the bed behind her. The blazer she had worn the night before was folded neatly in a pile at a corner of the bed with her mobile placed on top of it. She looked down at herself and realised for the first time she was wearing an over-sized T-shirt that said, "When life gives you lemons, reach for the tequila." This had to belong to Cook. Naomi reached out and checked her phone. A missed call from Effy. Five missed calls from Seth. She slapped her forehead in horror as she remembered that they were supposed to be filming for an MV today. Shit, it had totally slipped her mind.

"Eff," said Naomi urgently as the call connected and someone on the other end picked up.

"Naomi," said the caller with a chilled tone. "Had a fruitful night last night?" Naomi could hear the unmistakable smirk in her voice.

"Jesus, Eff," groaned Naomi. "Not now. Where's everyone?"

"Seth's alone at the recording studio, hopping mad. Apparently Dan & Erik pulled a no-show too," replied Effy. "Got laid last night."

"And you?" asked Naomi.

"I got laid as well. Thanks for asking," replied Effy.

"For Christ's sake, Eff, I don't want to know if you got laid," said Naomi with a roll of her eyes, "I meant to ask where you are now."

"Keith's."

"Isn't it a little too early for booze?" asked Naomi in amazement.

"I'm people-watching," said Effy curtly. "Where are you exactly?"

Naomi raised an eyebrow at Effy's question as it hit her that she didn't know where she was. She bolted to the next room where she found Panda in the middle of making an exquisite-looking vase.

"32, Hill Street," said Panda chirpily.

"32, Hill Street," repeated Naomi over the phone.

There was a slight chuckle on the other end. "I'm just round the corner," said Effy. "I'll wait downstairs while you say goodbye to your superlovah," she added. Naomi was about to protest when she heard a click on the phone.

Naomi saw Effy leaning against the wall outside the apartment building the moment she stepped out of the elevator.

"Hey," said Naomi with a smile as she tapped Effy from behind. Effy turned and merely looked her up and down in a slight surprise.

"You didn't get any last night," said Effy in a questioning tone.

"How the hell, Eff..?" Naomi blurted uncontrollably. She'd always known that Effy had psychic powers of some kind, but seeing those supernatural faculties of hers at work still scared her from time to time.

"It shows," said Effy, giving a shrug.

Naomi was about to come up with a retort when her eyes caught sight of a figure that had just stepped out of a cab on the roadside. Naomi fought an instinct to jump behind Effy as the petite figure in a designer top and a tight-fitting skirt looked up and locked eyes with her. To her surprise, those hazel brown eyes didn't seem to recognize her.

"What's the matter?" asked Effy as she eyed Naomi and followed her gaze to the lady that was walking in their direction towards the apartment building. This woman was elegantly dressed like those yuppies working on the other end of the city, but instead of a jaded air that one always saw hung over those rich, young but overworked professionals, Naomi detected a distinctive aura about the lady that could be sensed a mile away. The don't-you-dare-fuck-with-me aura.

A blazing ball of realization the size of an asteroid came hurling through the atmosphere and hit Naomi on the head. Why, of course she wouldn't recognise Naomi. This was obviously not Emily, it was Emily's twin, Katie. But fuck her if they hadn't looked more alike. Didn't Emily mention before that they weren't identical twins?

"I'm going up now," said the woman in a voice of authority, talking to the phone she held against her face with her right hand, the purposeful clicking of her heels on the pavement loud enough to be heard a few streets down.

"What the fuck do you mean, you're flying today?" yelled the woman in a sudden fit of anger, as she stopped short in her tracks, startling Naomi and even Effy. "Emily Fitch, are you fucking telling me that after getting into a fight last night and getting your face fucking disfigured, you're fucking hell going to work in that state?"

Naomi felt her throat went dry. Emily got into a fight last night…? What…? Why? How…?

"Naoms," said Effy as she looked at the flashing number on her mobile. "Seth's calling again. Let's go, they're waiting," she added, dragging a dazed Naomi down to the cab that Katie had just alighted from.

"What the hell, I'm going down to the airport to drag you back," Naomi could hear Katie's commanding voice from behind her. All the questions were popping up relentlessly in her head. Why did Emily get in a fight? Was she alright now?

"Does it look like it would stop me if they'd tried to throw me out? Look, Ems, I threw a client off my fucking back to visit your pathetic ass, squeezing a non-existent break I have from work to bring you to the hospital, and you're telling me you're fucking flying to Greece today. You're asking for another bruise to add to the pretty ones on your face, aren't you? I don't care, I'm going to the airport now," Katie said as she turned about on her heels and made her way to the cab just as Effy was about to open the door and get in.

"You're in the way, lady. Move it," said Katie as she shoved Effy out of the way to tug at the door handle, but Effy had her hands against the door.

"I believe we were here first," said Effy quietly.

"Nuh-uh. I just got out of the cab thirty seconds ago. I was here first," said Katie as she looked straight in Effy's eyes, challenging her. "Now, if you could remove your slimy hands off the door so that I can get on my cab."

Naomi tugged at Effy's shirt urgently, her brows knitting together in a plead for Effy not to get into an argument with Katie. Effy rolled her eyes at Naomi and removed her hand from the window. Katie smirked seeing that she had won, and gleefully opened the door to get in.

"Bitch," muttered Effy to herself as she turned away.

"I beg your pardon?" contested Katie as she turned back and glared at Effy.

"I said you're a bitch," said Effy calmly, her eyes boring straight into Katie's, undaunted. Naomi watched uneasily as the duo glared at each other in a menacing silence, both not wanting to back down. She was about to say something to ease the tension when there was a sudden change in Katie's expression as she arched her eyebrow and squinted at Effy, before turning to Naomi and looking her up and down.

"Wait a minute, I know you two," she began with an evil smirk on her face. "You two are the bitches from that stupid band that tries to pass a truckload of noise as music. Magic wands, or something," she added sarcastically.

"Ace of Wands," cut in Naomi eagerly, naively hoping that the fact that Katie "knew" them would help them resolve this argument in some way.

"Whatever," said Katie with a roll of her eyes. "Just another product of pop culture to earn some quick bucks of those naïve teenagers who would worship trash."

"Don't act like you know shit about us," said Effy in a dangerously calm voice, her blue eyes piercing into Katie's. Naomi looked at Effy in surprise. She had never heard the latter spring up to the band's defence in the past, even when the media was on a roll dishing out insults in interviews and news at one point in time, Effy'd always smirked and let it pass like it didn't bother her. Effy's reaction this time was something new.

"Sorry to disappoint you, but I do work with the so-called "stars" in my field, so I do know shit about you people. You bastards act like you're goddamn immortals who could step on everyone else. But really, you people are worse than trash," added Katie, apparently unfazed by the glare Effy was giving.

Naomi watched in panic as Effy's fingers rolled into a ball of fist and her body started shivering like she was trying to hold an orb of energy in. For the first time, Katie's eyes revealed a little hint of discomfort as she noticed Effy's body language, and had, rather intelligently, opened the door hurriedly and climbed into the cab before she got punched in the eye. As Katie's cab drove away, Effy squatted down and took in deep, heavy breaths.

"You alright?" asked Naomi in a concerned voice, as she ran her arms up and down Effy's arms soothingly.

"I'm fine," said Effy with a sideway glance at Naomi, looking far from anything she'd said. "Let's find another cab and get out of here."

Effy sat on the rocks and stared quietly at the ebb and flow of the tide, hypnotized by the rhythmic movement of the waves lapping on the shore. The sun was slowly setting on the horizon, and the sky was amazing mix of red, orange and blue. She took a long drag from the fag in her hand that was about to go out and saw that a figure had silently climbed up the sides to join her on her boulder. Effy turned to her side and held out the fag in a gesture to offer, but the other person just smiled and shook her head. The duo sat in silence as they let the lapping sounds of the waves wash over their tired souls and soothe them from within.

"Would you live by the sea if you could?" asked Effy out of the blue.

"You mean for the rest of your life?" asked Naomi, her eyes kept on the waters ahead.

"For the rest of your life," repeated Effy.

"Maybe. I don't know, it's kind of awesome, to wake up to these sounds every morning," said Naomi with a contented smile. "And the sight of your loved one next to you. It's the best feeling in the world, isn't it?"

Effy only chuckled.

"How about you Eff? Would you live by the sea for the rest of your life?" Naomi nudged Effy in the arm and asked.

"I think I could," began Effy. "I can see it. A little cottage house with two dogs, tons of tequila stocked up, and maybe a lover with a guitar. Some days I'll rent a rowboat and drift out into the middle of the ocean. Somehow it feels like the only place in the world that can hold me, that doesn't make me feel suffocated. It's only when I'm wrapped in the infinity of the ocean when I feel free," said Effy, her face revealing a dreamy smile as her hair flew freely in the sea breeze. Naomi looked at Effy with a gentle smile and gave her hand a little squeeze.

"I do pity your lover for your innate tendency to drift off alone into the ocean," teased Naomi.

"Right. Your lover would be one lucky bastard, what with you surgically attaching your limbs onto them so that you two can be together all day and night," said Effy, smirking to herself. Naomi blushed furiously.

"I won't do that to her," said Naomi hastily.

"Her?" Effy raised her eyebrow in a sudden display of interest. "Who's her?"

"No one," Naomi made a pathetic attempt to lie.

"It's the redhead from the party last night, isn't it?" said Effy knowingly as she took another drag. There was a moment of silence as Effy sensed the blonde trying to come up with something to deny but failed.

"Was it very obvious?" asked Naomi, her voice unable to hide the sadness behind.

"It was okay. I have a hunch for such things," replied Effy.

"You have a hunch for a lot of things, Eff," said Naomi.

"Are you in love with her?" asked Effy, her eyes still on a fishing boat that was bobbing up and down in the distance.

"Eff!" protested Naomi.

"Come on, Naoms," said Effy with a roll of her eyes. "Your heart obviously wasn't there when we were filming just now. It was supposed to be a sweet, mushy scene of a couple in love having fun at the beach, but you acted as if your lover had died in a car crash or something. She has to mean something to have such an effect on you."

"Well, I…" Naomi pouted, not knowing what to say. "You were distracted as well! I think that was the first time I've ever heard you missed playing a part," Naomi attempted a feeble comeback.

"I admit I was," said Effy truthfully.

"Was it what Katie said just now?" Naomi hazarded a guess.

"Katie?" asked Effy.

"She's Emily's twin sister," replied Naomi.

"Oh," said Effy, as realization dawned on her abruptly. "Well, for your own sake, I hope Emily's nothing like her then," she scoffed.

"No, they're very different," said Naomi quickly. "Emily's really quiet, sweet and funny," she added, a smile breaking out on her face.

"What's wrong then?" asked Effy.

"She's got a girlfriend," said Naomi, her smile fading at once. "She said she wanted me to stay away so that her girlfriend won't get the wrong idea."

"I wonder if she could stay away herself, though," said Effy thoughtfully.

"What do you mean by that?" asked Naomi in a surprised tone.

"Naoms, she was staring at you the entire night," said Effy matter-of-factly.

"What?" Naomi's eyes widened in astonishment at Effy's words.

"I'm telling you. The whole time she was looking your way with those… eyes. She's definitely, hopelessly in love with you. I know a lovelorn look when I see one," said Effy with a slight smirk as she took another drag.

"You what? … No… I… Then why is she pushing me away?" asked Naomi in desperation.

"How would I know, babe? I'm not an oracle. You gotta ask her yourself," said Effy, throwing the remains of the fag onto the sand.

Naomi sat on the rocks with her fingers twirling the edge of her top restlessly as Effy watched her with an amused look.

"Jesus, Naomi Campbell. Meet up with her face-to-face and thrash things out," said Effy as she stared at her. Naomi only looked back at her uncertainly as she bit her cheek, wondering how in the world that was going to happen.

"Naoms! Naoms!" the sounds of someone shouting rang out from behind them, making Effy and Naomi spin around on the rocks instantly. Erik ran up to them and panted breathlessly as he reached the edge of the rocks.

Erik held Naomi's puzzled gaze as he caught his breath finally. "It's your dad, Naomi."

"He's in hospital."

Naomi pushed through the hospital ward door with clammy hands and was immediately greeted with the sight of medical staff scurrying all over the place, attending to various emergencies with grave faces as a couple of coughs echoed from one of the rooms. The smell of antiseptics wafting through the air was enough to kill a germ that was the size of an elephant. Gina was spotted standing outside one of the doors next to Thomas, her arms crossed in front of her chest. When she looked up at Naomi, her eyes were slightly red and teary.

"Naomi," said Gina, her hands holding on to her daughter's arms for comfort.

"Mom," said Naomi, drawing Gina into an embrace.

"He's inside, with them," said Thomas quietly as he gestured to the door next to them. Naomi could feel a surge of strength flowing through her as Thomas' strong hands clasped her encouragingly on the shoulders. She hesitated at the door for a moment, before pushing her way in.

Since the day her dad had decided to walk out of her life, Naomi had envisaged meeting with him again in many ways. She'd imagined bumping into him at the checkout counter at the local supermarket with his new family, wearing posh clothes and living the high life. He would feebly attempt to apologise for walking out on her, and she would yell back at him and mash the dairy products on the floor, kicking up a big fuss and making sure that everyone knew about his betrayal, as he scurried away in shame with his family in tow.

She had imagined him meeting him a decade later when he was down and out, abandoned by his new wife and kids. He would come begging for her forgiveness at one of her sold-out concerts. There would be tears in his eyes as he went on his knees, as he pleaded with her to take him in again, but there would be no relenting on her part as she stared back at him with cold, dark eyes. Never would she believe his lies again.

But most days she would imagine coming home one day to realise that he was already seated on his favorite spot on the sofa with his arms wide open, smiling as she ran into his arms like when she was younger. She would ask him why he had left without a word. He would chuckle like he always did and ruffle her hair as he told her it was all but a silly dream; he had never left in the first place.

There had been a thousand and one scenarios in which Naomi had imagined meeting her father again, but not one of them was what she saw in front of her now.

He lay motionlessly on the hospital bed, the only movement evident on his body was the recurring heaving of his chest as he took labored breaths from the oxygen mask secured around his mouth. A cluster of complex-looking machines hovered above him, their unfriendly wires connected to his body to monitor any trace of life that was left in him. The icy and deathlike silence in the room was broken only by the intermittent beeping of the equipment, the one thing that seemed to remind them that time was still slipping away, and that with every second that departed, the spirit of the man was quietly following behind.

The figures beside his bed looked up as Naomi entered the room. The woman was in her early forties, with a hint of grey in her brown hair and looking extremely tired, but still beautiful. The boy beside her looked to be about eleven, and he had cowered a little against his mother when he saw Naomi. The lady smiled gratefully at Naomi, who returned a acknowledging nod with a little smile. She used to hate the other woman for destroying her happy family when she was younger, and she was all the more repulsed by the idea of the new son replacing her in her dad's heart. But as she grew older, Naomi came to learn things weren't all that simple. It always took two hands to clap. If anyone was to be blamed, it should all fall on her dad, for giving in to temptation so easily. This woman did nothing wrong, she only fell in love with the wrong man. It was all the more ridiculous to blame her son for her dad's betrayal.

Naomi held a hand to her mouth as she gazed at the haunted shell of a man lying on the bed. He was physically reduced to skin and bones. His once-beautiful dark hair for the most part had been thieved by the demons of chemotherapy, his body visibly withered from the onslaught of disease and aggressive medication. Naomi fought to hold a tear back. She couldn't believe that it was her dad. From her memory of him, he had been rather tall, with big, strong arms, and a smile full of rigor. This man lying here… He was merely a ghost of her dad's former self.

"Eddie," whispered the lady gently into the man's ear. "Naomi's here."

The man slowly peeled open his eyes with effort as he focused his eyes on the girl standing on the far end of his bed, staring down at him. The lady turned to his son, held him by the hand and excused themselves.

For a while, they both just looked at each other in silence. Naomi bit her lip as she looked him straight in the eye. She had so many questions to ask him, so many things to say to him, so many explanations that she demanded to hear from him. Suddenly, she was angry; she was angry that he was just going to get away like that, after all those years he had made her and Gina suffer. She was angry that she couldn't yell at him, throw dairy products on the floor while she screamed at their family, angry that she couldn't turn him away with cold, hard eyes so that he could have a taste of what she had suffered the day he decided to walk out on them both. She was angry, and it showed in her fiery blue eyes as she stared back at him in silence.

It was only a few minutes later when the man tried to raise his hand with much difficulty, trembling slightly as he finally peeled off the oxygen mask from his face. His eyes filled as he formed the words in between labored breaths.

"I'm sorry, Naomi."

Naomi pursed her lips hard as she continued to look him impassively in the eye, the back of her hand held against her mouth as she shook her head slowly from side to side.

"I'm sorry," he repeated.

And then the tears started to fall.