A/N: Here we are. It took me 10 months, but now we're here, and you FINALLY get to read the night Nina and Fabian met, instead of just reading flashbacks. Wow, never thought this day would come.

(Also the reason why I'm hours late is because I just finished this now whoop whoop) But now it's the weekend and I have all the time in the world to watch The Sims 3 Hunger Games and play Animal Parade (and maybe make some progress with Chase) and write to my desire. I hope your school day was well, and I do hope you enjoy this entire flashback chapter!

/o~~~o/

[Written on March 5th, 2013]

My hands moved swiftly across the keys on the keyboard, my mind scrambling for rhymes. You probably couldn't count the amount of times I pressed the "backspace" button in the short time of only one hour.

I took a deep breath, sitting back in the wooden chair, admiring my work. The title "Lost and Found" was typed in big, bold letters at the very top of my document. Underneath the underlined title were a few lines of lyrics.

I had been attempting to write a song. I wanted to a musician more than anything, and I'd consider myself a good song-writer. Even my mum agreed with me; she sent me to a performing arts academy so I could learn more techniques to writing lyrics.

I sighed, eying my song once again. If you looked in the trash bin in my room and on the computer, you could probably find a thousand different drafts of the song. I don't know why I couldn't write it out, but something was blocking me from writing a good, well-written song.

I rubbed my the tip of my fingernail on my thumb with my index finger, thinking of how to word the next line. When inspiration striked, I started typing madly, my fingers swimming over the keys.

I was typing the fourth line of the second verse when someone sat across from me. I didn't look up; people sat at others tables all the time when there was no other place to sit. I saw her take a sip from the coffee she had ordered from the corner of my eye before she said, "Hi."

I wasn't sure if she was talking to me or not, but no one else talked and the girl sitting across from me didn't say anything either, so I figured she was talking to me. I reluctantly looked up from my laptop screen and replied, "Hi."

The first thing I noticed when I saw her was her smile. Her smile was real. There was nothing fake to it; it wasn't forced, it wasn't obnoxious or ridiculous. Her smile was genuine, and her expression was full of curiosity. She looked like she liked mysteries and challenges.

I figured she was just being a nice person, saying hi to the person she had taken a seat next to. I turned my attention back to document in front of me on the table, and began writing lyrics again. I was musing about the next lyric when the same girl asked me, "What are you doing?"

I pursed my lips, already knowing she was a girl of many questions. There was no way to escape her, or to brush her off; she would continue asking you questions until you exploded. The only way to get rid of her was to answer her questions until she was bored. So I answered, "Writing." and turned again to my lyrics, trying to write down a new idea before she asked another question.

I came into the coffee shop in the first place to write my song. I figured I'd get some peace and quiet, listen to some coffee shop music, and write down some lyrics, get some work down. I'd never anticipated meeting this girl, or starting up a conversation with her.

"What are you writing?" she asked another question.

"Song lyrics," I told her, trying to tune her out. I ignored that cute, curious expression on her face and returned to what I said I was doing: writing song lyrics.

I didn't even get past one line before she told me, "Tell me about them. What's the song about?"

I started to lick my lips, hesitating before telling her. I had been working so hard on the song; should I just tell it to a complete stranger? Would she give the idea of the song away? Judging by her curious expression, it was hard to tell. It was evident she wanted to learn more about me, but I wasn't one to just come out and tell people about me. My answer to her question was, "I don't know myself yet. I'm just trying to write a song."

Her smile stayed plastered on her face, never once faltering or giving away the impression that it was fake. Her green eyes shone like emeralds, analyzing my face. Her gaze never left mine.

"Will you show it to me once you finish it?" she inquired, only blinking once. It was like she didn't want to tear her gaze away from me. I didn't want to stop looking at her either.

"Sure," I said right after she asked her question. I wasn't sure where this conversation was going, or where this girl was headed, but I was sure it wouldn't be any good. I finally tore my gaze away from hers and started typing on my computer again.

I waited for the girl to ask another question, but she held back. I was happy for that in a sense; I could finally type the song without any interruptions. I was upset about the fact, also; I wanted to learn more about this mystery girl and why she seemed so interested in me.

I sat silently for a minute, carefully looking at her from the corner of my eye. I thought she'd be a wonderful inspiration to work with, to write about. She was outgoing, confident, and I'd definitely classify her as a "people-person". When she met someone, she wanted to get to know them, to unlock their secrets and let them know they were welcome to talk to her and become her friend.

I was thinking she wasn't going to ask me anything anymore when she said, "Do you play an instrument?"

By now, I pretty much figured out that I wasn't going to get any work done with her around. I saved my document and closed my laptop so I could look at her again. The door to the coffee shop opened when someone walked in, blowing her light-brown hair over her face, blocking her pale-green eyes for a second, but it never dared to cover her smile. Her smile was something else completely, a part of her that was almost something else entirely. It stood out on her like a sore thumb, and I was glad it did.

I met her eyes again, as my mum had always said it was good manners to meet someone's eyes when you talk. "Yes, I do. I play the guitar." was the answer to her question.

I could feel the tips of my lips start to creep upward, and I knew I was smiling. In my school, everyone pretty much had their own groups of friends, and I had . . . well, myself. I liked keeping to myself and I didn't care that no one wanted to strike up a conversation with me, but I would prefer having a friend than not having one. This girl in front of me continually asking me questions made me happy, and I'm quite sure it showed.

"Do you play well?"

"I would think so," I responded, placing my arms on the table in front of me so I could get a better look at her.

"Can I hear you play?"

"You're very interested in me and my musical career, aren't you?" I was the one to ask the question this time.

"I think you're very interesting, that's why," she explained herself. Her green eyes shone with happiness, and I knew she was getting somewhere with me. I wasn't trying to slink away or pretend she didn't exist. I was acknowledging her, and she wanted to know more about me. "But I don't know much about you."

"Well, I don't know anything about you yet," I said, keeping my eyes on her face, her extremely interesting face. "Care to tell me more about you?"

She flashed me a grin before she said, "My name is Nina. I'm fifteen years old, and I'm from America."

"I couldn't tell, from that oh-so-thick British accent of yours," I joked. I knew from the moment she said hi that she was from America, as she had the accent, but I didn't know why. I figured I should be the one to ask the questions this time. "It's nice to meet you, Nina. Why are you in Liverpool if you're from America?"

"My grandmother was offered a job that she couldn't refuse," Nina said. Her pale eyes stayed bright with anticipation as she waited for more to say. She continued, "So I moved from Florida to Britain. I mean, I have been here for two years, now, but... I like it much more than Florida, for the record."

I chuckled. Nina most certainly wasn't the funniest being, but I liked her sense of humor. I liked a lot about the girl I had just met. "Britain most certainly is a wonderful place. Where are you going to school?" She had said she was fifteen, which means she was one year younger than me. She should be in school.

"I don't even know," she admitted, the sides of her eyes crinkling up as she smiled. I thought it was adorable, the little wrinkles by her eyes. Her smile was so beautiful, it made me melt. "The school name isn't on the actual school. It starts with a C, though. That's all I know. What about you? Where do you go to school?"

I liked talking with Nina. She had interesting things to say, and even though she tore me away from my work, her conversation kept me captivated, making me want to talk more, which is rare for me.

"I go to a performing arts academy," I began. "My parents think I have some sort of gift of song-writing, so they're sending me there to, and I quote, 'master my gift'." I was making air quotes to show what they said to me only two months ago.

"Do you like going there, though? Is that what you want to do?"

I hesitated a moment, before realizing that was stupid because I should know the answer right away. "Yes," I said, beginning my statement confidently. "I love song writing. I love it more than anything, but I don't think I want to dedicate my whole day to it, you know? I kind of want to go to college before I think of a career with music."

"Ah, so you DO want to do something with music!" she giggled, showing me her beautiful smile. Now, she went back to being the person who asked the questions. "Is the song you were writing for school, or for yourself?"

I knew this one. "Myself. I'm writing it for myself. I just don't know what I'm going to do with it yet."

"What's it called?"

"It's called 'Lost and Found'. It's about two people who meet, but their love is lost and when they meet again, they're trying to rekindle the relationship they once had."

"That sounds great!" Nina beamed, and I was happy that she seemed interested in me and my musical career. She continued, "You sound really talented, but you seem so shy. Practice in front of a mirror, because if you overcome your fright, you could really go far, and I want you to achieve your dream."

"Thanks," I grinned, genuinely thankful. "You're a great girl, Nina."

"Aw, shucks, don't make me blush," she said, despite the fact that she was already blushing. She looked me in the eyes again, saying, "I wish I could learn more about you, Mystery Boy. I know next to nothing about you, other than you have a talent in the musical arts. You could specify a bit more there, you know."

"Hey, that's what I am: a mystery," I deadpanned as I pushed myself off of my chair, placing my laptop in my rucksack, and made my way over to Nina.

When I stood in front of her, she said, "What are you doing?"

"Asking you something," I stated simply, and then continued, "Nina, would you like to come with me to my apartment?"

/o~~~o/

[Written over the course of like two weeks in January 2014 because I am a lazy arse]

"It's quite proper, I assure you," I joked, holding the door open for Nina to walk through. She smiled once she saw the furniture, the wallpaper, and her surroundings; it wasn't much, as we lived in a small flat, plus it was overly crowded with six people living here. "This is the sitting room."

"This is nice," Nina commented, letting me take her jacket off of her shoulders, as it was the middle of August, and she must have been burning up in my apartment with no air conditioning.

"You don't have to lie," I laughed, mostly to myself. "I know it's a mess, but that's what happens when you live with five females."

"Five females?" Nina questioned, running her hand over the fabric of the couch. I don't know why she seemed so amazed by it; the couch was ripped up and torn thanks to the dog we thought we could have when I was eight, Isabelle was 12, Rosie was 10, Chloe was 6, and Olivia was 4; we hadn't gotten a new couch since the dog ripped it up, and the paint on the walls were peeling. It was a very old apartment, and I knew we had to find a bigger, better, stronger house soon.

"Yeah," I muttered, rolling my eyes slightly. "I have four sisters."

Nina lightly gasped, and I couldn't tell if her shock was mock or genuine. "Wow! I couldn't imagine living with four brothers. That must be a pain."

"Yeah," I breathed, laughing still. I placed her coat on the coat rack, but it was buried underneath hundreds of other sweatshirts and jackets and six people other than me lived here as well. "It can get a bit annoying, when all you want to do is play football, and your dumb older sister is holding the rest of your siblings hostage in doll prison."

"Football?" Nina wondered with her American accent, leaning against the wall, her hands at her sides. I nodded, and Nina spoke again, "Wow. I never would have pinned you for the football type."

"No no no no no," I defended, my hands in front of my body when I realized what she must have been talking about. "British football, Nina. You know, the one you kick around a field into a goal? Not the one you throw into someone else's arms and then run away from being tackled. Basically, it's soccer in your terms."

"Oh," she breathed in understanding. I told her to sit wherever she liked, so she sat her butt on one of the couch cushions that wasn't ripped to shreds.

"I've never met an American before," I told her, sitting down next to her. She still wore the same smile I saw in the coffee shop only minutes before; still curious, always wanting to discover and solve the next mystery. Nina raised both of her eyebrows at me, so I laughed before I said, "Yeah. I mean, I've heard of America before, and my History teacher always talks about the Americas, but I've never met someone who's actually from there. What's it like?"

"What's it like?" Nina repeated my question, tapping her chin thoughtfully. When she finally came to an answer, she smiled brightly and announced, "Well, it's huge, for one thing. It has a lot of sightseeing spots, like Mt. Rushmore — but I guess you'd only want to see that if you were American, because it's just a rock sculpture of the presidents — or maybe New York City?"

"Ah, New York City," I said curiously, moving closer to her. "I've heard a lot about that."

"Obviously you have," she told me, "it's very famous. Known all around the world."

"Have you been there before?" I asked her.

"Once. When I was nine."

"Do you remember it?"

"Vaguely," she shrugs, her hair sitting on her shoulder. It's wavy; not curly, but not pin-straight, either. "I remember going into the Empire State Building and seeing the city from the top. I remember eating at this chocolate-themed restaurant; I don't remember what I got, but I can still taste the chocolate in my mouth. I remember..." Now I see her racking her brain for a memory, since she went to the city almost five years ago.

"I remember walking out of Penn Station," she finalized, smiling for a little bit. "Me and my mother took the train to the City after we spent a weekend with my aunt and uncle in Long Island. Penn Station was full of people, and I was still nine at that point, so everything around me was huge. But I still remember walking out of Penn Station and seeing the City in person for the first time," she told me, smiling.

"Well, I definitely want to go there," I grinned, leaning back and facing the wall. "I just want to get out, you know? Find some people who believe in me."

"Believe in you?" Nina asked, curiosity present in her gaze, like always. "What do you mean by that?"

"What I mean is that no one thinks I can do better than them," I muttered, not bothering to look at the person I had brought home with me. "Just because I'm one of the youngest in the school, they always think that I'm not as talented as they are. It's ridiculous."

"I'm sorry," Nina apologized, but I blew her statement off with the wave of my hand.

"There's nothing to be sorry for," I told her, a small smile on my face as I turned to the side to view her. I didn't know what I was expecting, but she looked exactly the same as she did in the coffee shop; the only thing that differed was that her light-brown hair wasn't blowing in her face. She still had a large, dark freckle to the right of her mouth, her jade-green eyes barely visible in the dim light of my flat and, the curious smile that made me invite her back here in the first place. "It's not your fault. You don't go to the school with me. What's your school like, anyway?"

"What's my school like?" She repeated my question, biting her bottom lip as she thought her answer through. "Hm...well, it's big, for one thing."

I arched an eyebrow.

"I don't know much about it!" Nina defended, laughing weakly. "I've only been there for a year! And I've only been in Liverpool itself for two...I barely know my way around here. I don't even remember how I got to that coffee shop before!"

I didn't know why, but something about her was addicting. Not in the cocaine kind of way, but like the way she laughed and brushed her hair behind her ear. Like the way she fixed me with that gaze, like she was trying to figure out my puzzle, to put all of the pieces together and solve the mystery that was my life.

"How do you like Liverpool?" I remembered Nina saying that she liked Liverpool much better than the state she was originally from, even though I couldn't remember what state. I barely knew the difference between New York and California; that's how much British education taught us about the United States.

One of the things I recalled from my years when I was in regular, public school, was that we had one lesson on the States in the US. We went over them for a week, but now the only States I remembered were California, New York, Texas, and Florida. It was probably because New York was the most known, Texas was the biggest, California had Hollywood and Florida was on the south edge. I couldn't remember any of the other states, and there were 48 other ones.

"I do!" Nina smiled with her lips pursed, scootching over on the couch to move closer to me. I could see her eye color now that she was up-close. "It's much nicer than Florida. Where I lived, Sebastian, basically had nothing around. There was a salon, which I went too often with my mother before she died. The salon owner, Larna, had a daughter my age...I think her name was Taylor. I don't talk to her anymore, though."

"Friends," I muttered softly, and Nina nodded slowly. "Did you feel bad leaving your remaining friends when you moved here from America?"

"Well, a little," Nina met my eyes again, and for some reason I didn't feel like looking away like I normally did. My mother always told me off for not making eye contact with people, but whenever I tried to meet my teacher's eyes or another person's, I had to look away. I couldn't hold eye contact, not with them staring right back.

But there was something...different about Nina's gaze. It was more curious while the gazes of people at more school were more scornful and judgmental. I attended a performing arts school, yet I couldn't perform without thinking I was going to embarrass myself first. There was something warm about her gaze, something welcoming. She was slowly drawing me in slower and slower.

"But I made new friends right away," she told me quietly, quite unlike what I presumed she'd sound like if I wasn't talking to her right now. "I'm good friends with this guy named Eddie, and this girl Mara. I talk to them a lot, as they're in some of my classes and live just around the block...I talk to some other people, too, but I'm not as close to them as I am to Eddie and Mara."

"Well, I'm not surprised," I laughed lightly, seeing the same light feeling expressed in Nina's eyes. "You just walked right up to me in that coffee shop and said hello. You didn't even stop to think that I was a creeper or anything like that."

Nina slinked away only the slightest bit before asking playfully, "Well then, are you a creeper?"

"No, nothing like that," I brushed her worries away with the wave of my hand. Nina smiled again, her body inching slowly towards me again. "I don't think a creeper would keep all of their Pokemon cards in a binder in the shelf above their closet, now would they?" I shrugged, turning my body so I could face her again. She didn't intimidate me like the people in my school did.

"I don't think so either," Nina agreed, her eyes smiling along with her lips. "But hey, you never know. You could be some sort of...weird murderer who kidnaps girls who talk to him first for a living, but...I kind of doubt that. So, anyway...what is your school like, huh? It can't be that horrible, can it?"

"Oh, it can," I admitted quietly, fidgeting with my fingers like I always did when I was nervous. "Like I said, no one believed in me. They all thought they were better than me just because they were older than me, or maybe because they needed to pick their own spirits up."

"Well, did you always believe in yourself?" Nina questioned again, finally beginning to ask more questions than she did when we were back in the coffee shop not that long ago. "I mean, that's the first step in achieving your goal, right? Believing in yourself?"

"I don't know if I can," I breathed, crashing back against the couch, staring at the ceiling. "I mean...how can I think that I'm the least bit good at what I do when even the teachers are bringing me down?"

"Well, I'm not a teacher," Nina said nonchalantly, "and I won't judge you based on your performance. I barely know you, so I can't say anything about who are you or what you do in your spare time...you can show me what you can do, if you want?"

"Really?" I asked, sitting up straight again and meeting Nina's eyes. "You would do that?" My smile slowly started to grow once she nodded, and I almost burst with happiness and energy when she told me to get up and go get my guitar."

I speed-walked to my bedroom down the hall, the tiny bedroom I had to myself because I was the only male in my family. I owned two guitars (or at least, I would own two guitars once my birthday passed in a week), so I picked up the only one I owned at the moment and practically ran back out to the sitting room, to see Nina still sitting on the couch, glancing at everything in the room.

"Oh, hey, you're back!" She smiled as I sat down with the guitar in my lap, already tuning it. "So, you're definitely going to play, then?"

At this, I paused. I stopped tuning the guitar for a moment when I asked quietly, "You're not going to judge me, are you?"

"Of course not!" Nina pushed me away lightly, playfully, like we had known each other for years before today. "Now go on! I'm not going to judge. Besides, I like listening to music."

Slightly smiling, I decided on the song I was going to play within the next second. I finished tuning the guitar silently, taking a deep breath and singing under my breath, "Me and all my friends, we're all misunderstood—"

I cleared my throat, stopping the chords when I saw Nina give me a curious look. Her smile was genuine again; genuinely curious, genuinely interested, much unlike the people in my school. She nudged me on, the look in her eyes begging me to continue. I couldn't believe I was playing for someone I just met. So I continued to sing, "They say we stand for nothing and there's no way we ever could.

"Now we see everything that's going wrong with the world and those who lead it," My voice was small, because my mum had told me I was prone to being very loud when I wanted to be. Most of the time, I was quiet, but when I was angry I was louder than Chloe on a touchy subject. "We just feel like we don't have the means to rise above and beat it."

Nina nodded, probably recognizing the song I was singing. It was one of my favorite songs, one of the only few that I knew the chords and lyrics to by heart, one of the songs that meant the most to me. "So we keep waiting; waiting on the world to change. We keep on waiting; waiting on the world to change.

"It's hard to beat the system when we're standing at a distance." Even I could hear my voice rising, my tone no longer low and quiet. When Nina's face didn't scrunch up in dislike or raise her hand to criticize me, I knew she was just listening to me and the music I was making with my guitar. "So we keep waiting; waiting on the world to change.

"Now if we had the power to bring our neighbors home from war, they would have never missed a Christmas; no more ribbons on their door. And when you trust your television, what you get is what you got, cause when they own the information, oh, they can bend it all they want."

Nina smiled when she looked at my face; I didn't know what it was, but I could feel myself smiling, too. It felt weird to play in front of someone again; for the past few months or so, I'd been practicing by myself, locking myself in my room so none of my sisters could hear me practice. Now, I was playing in front of someone I just met; I couldn't believe I was doing that. Much less playing my favorite song. "That's why we're waiting; waiting on the world to change. So we keep on waiting; waiting on the world to change.

"It's not that we don't care, we just know that the fight ain't fair. So we keep on waiting; waiting on the world to change.

After I finished the small guitar solo, Nina's smile grew larger. I didn't know what she was thinking, but she seemed genuinely impressed and happy.

"And we're still waiting; waiting on the world to change. We keep on waiting; waiting on the world to change. One day, our generation is gonna rule the population. So we keep on waiting; waiting on the world to change.

"We keep on waiting; waiting on the world to change."

Nina looked like she wanted to clap, and even though that was a live performance, she ruled it out as silly. I would have ruled it out as silly, too, if she had clapped. Her smile was wide, but she didn't say anything; only stared at me with awe and this look in her eyes that I couldn't interpret. "You like?" I asked her slowly, which seemed to bring her back to present day.

"I like!" She assured me, resting her hand on my arm; it was the only time I didn't slink away from a touch like that.

"Really?" I smiled anyway, my emotions conflicting within me. "Because I know I messed up on a few chords and—"

"Of course I liked it!" Nina slapped me again, criticizing me on the fact that I was criticizing myself. "I mean, it isn't Beatles good—"

"Well, no one could be better than The Beatles—"

"And I heard a few mistakes, but if you keep working..."

"You think I could be good?" I asked hopefully, beaming at the girl sitting at my sides. I didn't know what it was about her. I had only known her for such a short period of time, but now it felt like an eternity. The fact that I could be comfortable around her and not around my classmate sure said something about today's education, after all.

"You're already good," she smiled, boosting my confident with every word she spoke. "You're so talented, and I really hope you go far."

I could even feel myself blushing, and even though I tried to stop it, I couldn't help it so I let it go. "Thanks. What about you...do you have any talents."

Nina scoffed, but it felt like more of a joking kind of scoff; like the kind you would use if you were playing along with your friend's bad joke. "Hah! My only talent is the ability to hold a grudge."

"I'm sure that's not true," I assured her, but somehow, Nina's lips curled her way into a smile. I knew what it felt like to not be appreciated or recognized, so I was just about to tell her that when Nina's wonderful smile made a reappearance.

"Have you heard me sing?"

"No."

"I sound like a strangled cat being drowned."

v v v

We talked for the next two or three hours or so. I didn't know what we found so captivating in each other; all I did was read and play guitar. Nina, for someone so young, looked like she had a lot of energy she wanted to use on other people, to get to know them and unlock their secrets, and that was exactly what I was supplying for her.

We talked about how my sister, Chloe, didn't stop sucking her thumb until she was nine, or how my sisters Isabelle and Rosie, even though Isabelle was 20 and Rosie was 18, played this game where Isabelle tried to steal Rosie's sock and stuck it on the chandelier, since Rosie was tiny and Isabelle was a giant (She was 5'10.)

She laughed at those stories. She offered sympathy when I told her about my mother's miscarriage before she tried again and received Isabelle. She gave me all those emotions, but she was shrouded with mystery, as well. I knew about her life, while the only things she probably knew about me was that I had four sisters and the talent to play the guitar.

I started to unhook her bra strap about a minute after our first kiss.

"I'll do it if you want to do it," I muttered into her ear, not really knowing what to do. This was my first time — I couldn't say the same thing for Nina, but I was sure that a fifteen-year-old girl like her wouldn't really be that intimate with other people — so I was fumbling around awkwardly.

"I want to do it," she muttered back. I laughed nervously before letting the bra fall down her knees, and I followed her into my bedroom.

If I had known what was going to happen in the future...

Well, I'd still do it.

Even though there were a lot of bad times, good still surrounded that, sticking out.

Because this night would lead to Nina missing her period.

It would lead to her picking up a pregnancy test in September 2009 and seeing it come out as positive, crying herself to sleep.

It would lead to me going to Aaron in January 2010 and asking for a record deal because of some random girl's belief that I could go somewhere with my music.

It would lead to nine months in hell for Nina, dealing with taunts from schoolmates and her two best friends not believing her.

It would lead to May 25th, 2010, when Nina gave birth to my child without my knowledge.

It would lead to her waiting two years, then sending me the photograph of my daughter on August 7th, 2012, changing my world forever.

It would lead to us trying to make things work, then the photograph of us in the park taken on October 27th, 2012, and Nina leaving town on November 1st, 2012.

It would lead to me meeting KT after I called Nina a mistake, me sleeping with KT, Nina coming back and hearing what I did, and me slapping her in the restaurant because she boiled my blood like no one else and me regretting that decision for the rest of my life even if we did make up in the future.

It would lead to us kissing in the school courtyard for the first time since the one-night stand.

They say it's about the journey, not the destination, but that's not true.

Because after all, why are you taking the journey in the first place?

/o~~~o/

A/N: And SPEAKING of relationships, I FINALLY married Neil in Harvest Moon on January 12th, 2014, and our kid won't be born for a year as I got married Fall 10th in-game. I'm pregnant with my second child with Gale on Animal Parade, and on Tree of Tranquility, my baby with Gill was just born a week ago (in-game) and I named her Emma! It's sad that my only relationships are pixelated on a screen.

The next chapter is 30, and it has THE BIGGEST cliffhanger evar. (Okay, so not really; it's kind of predictable and cliché. But I guarantee a shit storm will ensue after you read said cliffhanger.) Like I said, I cut one chapter, so now we have 4 chapters to go (30, 31, 32, 33), and the final finishing date for this story is February 21st, 2014. This story was SUPPOSED to be finished on September 13th of last year, but I'm uber lazy and missed 16 weeks. I hope you guys'll stick around until the end, because after that roller coaster of a ride, I doubt you'll walk off without being dizzy.

Have a lovely weekend!
-Lia