"I'm worried." Taylor ran the brush through her hair and then stopped in mid stroke. "I don't like that they're at Summer's." She continued to run the brush through her hair and put it down next to the bathroom sink. "She was all over Seth today."

"Taylor." The tone in Ryan's voice was implying that she was being unfair; she probably was, but that did not lessen her concern. "Her father just died."

"I know—and it's horrible that her boyfriend didn't come."

"Ex-boyfriend." Ryan reminded her. Matt, whom Summer had trusted in and had dotted on, had not come to Dr. Robert's funeral because he had to lead a rally in Albany New York. Summer had been furious and heartbroken and had ended that relationship then and there. "Even though they haven't been together for a while they still have a strong connection; they've gone through a lot with each other." Seth had been very sweet and patience and good with Summer when Marissa had died so it was only natural, Ryan told Taylor, that she would turn to him again.

"I get that—but I'm still worried about it—I can't shake the feeling that she likes him more than just a good friend."

"Did Cordelia say something about this to you?"

"She did—but we both came to the same conclusion. You know I love Summer and my heart breaks for her, but I saw the way she was looking at him—she wanted him." Seth was mum about his feelings for Summer; either he didn't know how he felt or knew and didn't want to share with Taylor. "This has been going on for a while." For at least the past two months, even since that day that Summer and Seth had reconnected as friends, Summer's shadow had slowly began to cast of pall on the relationship between Cordelia and Seth. Seth had become—in Coredelia's words—more and more distracted and distant. That spontaneous fire and excitement that Seth had felt for her in the early days of the relationship had begun their slow retreat and Cordelia felt, she told Taylor, with more and more certainty that Seth's raven haired ex love was slowly but surely bewitching him. "Summer promised me."

"I know Taylor." He took his girlfriend in his arms and kissed her forehead as she sank into his arms. "I can talk to Seth if you want—he is usually pretty good about spilling his heart out."

"Would you? I don't want to ask you to spy on him—but if comes up?"

"I'll try and find out about it." Ryan squeezed Taylor tightly and pulling away from her, smiled brightly at the girl. "We've had a long day—do you want to go to bed?"

"No—I'm not that tired actually." They sat down on the edge of the hotel bed and held hands in silence. Today had been the day of Dr. Robert's funeral. Sandy and Kirsten had come, as well as Julie and Kaitlin and Frank. The entire affair had been a sad one; Summer had balled hysterically the entire ceremony and had latched onto Seth for the most of it. Taylor would never wipe from her mind the sight of Summer's anguished tears; it would take Taylor a long time to forget the look of pain and startled unease on Cordelia's face as Seth had held Summer so tightly and sweetly that day. He had volunteered to keep Summer company that night, he had promised to look after her and make sure she was okay. "I hope that Summer is sleeping now."

"They gave her some medicine—I think that they'll have a quiet night."

"Do you think Seth loves Summer?"

"Honestly?"

"Of course."

"I do—I mean, I didn't stop loving you. I still love Marissa."

"I suppose he loves her then—not that he'd ever tell me." Seth had become more distance with Taylor too; there were times when it seemed that Seth was holding back from her, not telling her things that he once would have not hesitated to tell. "I think he keeps things from Anna too."

"You talk to her tonight?"

"Only for a minute—her aunt is getting worse." Anna herself was unable to make it to the funeral because of her own family problems. It seemed that death was having his day in the world.

"Well send her my love." It was only an expression but Taylor smiled at it.

"You're getting pretty good at this love thing." Taylor leaned in and kissed him. This time around he had not had any problems sharing his feelings for her and she had completely lost her head over him for it. "I love you."

"I love you too." Ryan pulled her towards him and kissed her neck. "You're so beautiful." She blushed and felt speechless as he lowered the straps of her nightgown. "Every inch of you is flawless." He kissed her left shoulder blade and slowly worked his way back up her next and to her lips. Taylor purred as his right hand slid slowly up her leg and went underneath her nightgown to her thigh. She spread her legs slightly to give him access and sighed in anticipation. Death had loomed large during the day, but as she felt his heat upon her body, Taylor wanted desperately to rush into the grasp of lust. The pain and the sorrow of Summer's despair had wearied her and Taylor yearned for Ryan's hands to make her feel alive again.

"Please baby" Taylor's voice was dusky with desire in the dark nighttime and she let herself go as his hands and mouth consumed her. As she let him undress her, Taylor called out in pleasure and sank onto her back; opening her legs, she invited Ryan to devour her with breaths of lust…

After they had made love, Ryan held her and kissed her shoulder lovingly. They were spent of that madness that summer heat had imparted on them and as she listened silently to Ryan fall asleep, Taylor struggled to hold onto that passionate, loving, maddening desire that had so earlier consumer her.

She could not; like the shadows that were dancing across the stage of her bedroom, Taylor felt death looming larger and larger over her. The young woman thought of Dr. Robert's and the pleasurable life he had lived. What had been his first encounter with death? Had he tried to escape it with pleasure, with alcohol? Had he tried to escape his first true encounter with sorrow and heartbreak the same way Taylor and Ryan had? Certainly pleasure had made Taylor forget, for a few minutes at least, the ultimate outcome of the play she was performing, but now, as the room was silent, Taylor once again experienced that stillness she had encountered so recently.

Lying next to Ryan, it was like the doors of her perception had fallen down and the realization that she was in this world, surrounded by emptiness. It was a sickening revelation to be so self aware of her own place in the world. Had Neil Roberts once felt this same sickness, this same nausea? In a panic Taylor shook Ryan and awoke him.

"Taylor, what's wrong?"

"I can't sleep. Will you stay up with me?" He nodded his head in sleepy agreement and held her. Ryan replied to her chatter in murmurs but it was not before long that she was along again. The room was silent again and she could hear nothing but Ryan's soft breathing. Taylor rolled over on her side and closed her eyes, trying to shut up the gloom. In her mind she could only picture Summer's father, at a Newport party, smiling and happy.

No doubt he felt much pleasure in his life, Taylor thought to herself. He had tasted fine wines and traveled to beautiful locals. Lovely and gracefully women had slept in his arms. Summer Robert's father had known love and ecstasy and heartbreak. Thinking about him, as she held her eyes closed shut, the words of Dowson crept into her head:

They are not long, the weeping and the laughter,

Love and desire and hate:

I think they have no portion in us after

We pass the gate.

They are not long, the days of wine and roses:

Out of a misty dream

Our path emerges for a while, then cloes

Within a dream.

Opening her eyes, the first thing she saw was the electric alarm clock at her bedside. The time read 12:15 and Taylor watched as it progressed a minute.

"I am one minute closer to death." Taylor told herself. The young woman felt revolted and rose from the bed; Ryan was fast asleep and did not stir. Despite herself, she could not help but watch the clock progress minute by minute. In the silence, she could hear the ticking of a clock; every second Taylor's life was slipping away and she was powerless to stop it. Did they all realize that Time was ripping away their life? Maybe they did. She certainly did and seeing it, facing Time and Death squarely, terrified her. No one could really look Time and Death squarely in the face, it was too sad, too maddening. Taylor herself, who was well versed in philosophy, had to look away. The sight was too dreadful for her pretty hazel eyes.

How did people deal with it? In a flash she remembered the words of Baudelaire's poem:

Be always drunken. Nothing else matters: that is the only question. If you would not feel the horrible burden of Time weighing on your shoulders and crushing you to the earth, be druken continually.

Drunken with what? With wine, with poetry, or with virtue, as you will. But be drunken.

Surely Taylor was drunken on love. That was her answer to the crushing weight of Time.

Turning to Ryan, she asked herself if that was the answer to it all; would Ryan's love for her protect her from being "a martyred slaves of time?" Searching her heart, she desperately wanted the answer to be yes; she felt the answer was no.

Like a wave, panic swept over the girl. Taylor felt helpless before Time; escaping from her bed, she rushed out to the balcony and closed the door behind her. It was a cool, cloudless evening. Looking up, trying to calm herself, she looked up into the heavens and saw great beauty before her. The moon and starts cast a pale light over her; a soft breeze fluttered through her and its embrace was as soft and tender as Ryan's. How peaceful and tender the night seemed. It made Taylor grow cold in fear and despair.

"Oh god!" thought Taylor, "why must we die, why must we suffer separation and illness and tears? And if we must, then why all this beauty, why this sweet feeling of hope, why this desire for love and all the happiness that it brings? What is the meaning of that beautiful sky and radiant moon? Can all this be only what we feel within us—while outside, in reality, there is only an eternal icy stillness? Can it be that we are quite alone, alone—while beyond us everywhere there are only endless gulfs and chasms in which all is strange to us?"

Taylor desperately waited and wanted for Ryan to come. He did not.