a/n: #doubledown

"You're saying that it amounts to nothing."

"No. I'm saying that it all has no point. But the purpose was more than we could have imagined."

Crystal chandeliers sparkled with light above their heads, the celing curved high and decorated with splashes of paint. The rustic tone continued in the pillars until they reached the ground, covered in pure and clean white marble.

People stood around in elegant wear and chatted. They all wore masks.

Amy and Rouge stood together with glasses of wine in their hands and matching strapless dresses, black fur boas wrapped around their necks. The pink hedgehog decided to wear those bright red wedge heels from Milan. They only seemed to get more comfortable with each event.

"How could it not have a point but have a purpose?"

"Because they're different things," Amy said.

"What?"

"Point. A point, a topic, a thing, an individual event. Point. Purpose. A goal. A meaning, a reason. Purpose. They're not the same."

"You're suggesting that all of this was pointless but that there was a reason behind it."

"More than that. It gives us reason," she said from behind her flowery mask.

"You sound full of shit."

"You're the one who said it. You're the one who brought it up on that beach, with the white sand and the shining water. You're the one who said that there was no better time to be frustrated and to think and consider things than while you're skipping around the world. Well, here we are. And I understand it now."

"What are you on about?"

Amy elegantly raised a hand in triumph. "This is the world of adults. Where we can have everything amount to nothing in an instant, but it will mean something forever."

"You're drunk."

"You'd say the same thing regardless."

"So you're drunk."

"No." Amy sipped from her glass of white wine. "I'm not you."

"Shut up."

She ignored the bat and continued. "Rouge, you have to understand. All of these things...constructs. The things we used to divide ourselves, the same thing. Constructs, you know?"

"Constructs?"

"It was a few months ago you talked with him?"

Rouge was silent as the sound of a string quartet echoed through the hall. She finished her glass of wine and set it on the tray of a passing waiter. "Yeah, I did."

"Remember? The paritions?"

"Vaguely."

Amy put a hand over her chest. "That was my fault. I kept bringing it into reality from my own unsteady feelings. The phantoms, Rouge."

"This shit again..."

"It's the truth," she said as Rouge sighed, shaking her head. "It's for real. I made this, and I kept making you believe it."

"So what's your brilliant solution? To try and exist outside of it all?"

"Yes! That's the solution!"

"How?"

"Well..." Amy pursed her lips. "We can't. I mean, any more."

"Huh?"

Amy tapped her lips with a silky gloved hand. "We're adults now. It's not...a matter of magic. Or imagination. But...we're constructing our own worlds. And accepting them. At least, I am. You've already settled in yours. I wanted to explore your world so I could try and make my own."

"You're saying that we could have...but we can't."

"Yeah. Like...it won't work with us as a pair. We're not compatible like that. But we are totally compatible. Not just in bed, even. You know?"

"I'm having trouble keeping up."

"It's not a romance."

"..." Rouge turned her masked face away from Amy for a moment. She contemplated and stopped a waiter to grab another wine glass absentmindedly. She turned back to Amy and raised a brow upwards. "Not a romance."

"Yeah. This isn't a romance."

"I'm not following."

"This isn't a love story. This isn't a journey of love. We skipped all the necessary steps and jumped in. When you took that bit of innocence from me? Back in Station Square?"

"Yeah. What about it?"

"Everything's about it. That's where it all started. Out of chaos. Everything since then has been a turn through everything else. But it had no point. No actual future. No normal solution. No linearity. Rouge, what are we even looking for?"

"I'm not sure. I remember the beach now," she said with a sip of wine. "I remember what it was I said. That a part of all of this was figuring out where to go next."

"So you can see it too."

"A little. You're saying that...okay. You're saying that a lot of the shit we've been tormenting ourselves with has actually been of our own making, as in we're mentally creating these obstacles."

"Right."

"And that we're stuck in these worlds we've made."

"Right."

"And that it's okay."

"Right."

"So what's next?"

Amy shrugged.

"You start up all of this philosophical crap and then you-" Rouge gave a comical shrug to mock Amy. "-just like that?"

"Yeah. So what?"

"Oh, fuck you."

"It's confusing, isn't it?"

"..." She sighed. "Yeah. I'm sorry."

"I know you didn't mean that for me, Rouge."

"I just...was it really that close to us all along?"

"Yeah."

"So there's really no...conclusion."

"Yeah. That's exactly it. That's exactly where we are. No linearity. No conclusion."

Rouge gulped down the glass of wine and raised it. A waiter strolled over and she got a full one, which she emptied immediately before taking another one. "I'm good, hon. Thanks." He nodded and walked away.

"You okay?"

"No, not really. But that's okay."

"Is it?"

"Yeah. For once it is, hon."

"I can accept that. Now if you literally mean where we should go from here? I guess Shinjuku sounds nice."

"We'll do that."

"Okay."

Rouge walked ahead and Amy followed. They found seats, round leather stools near the open bar. The quartet was playing nearby. Rouge could recall the piece. Brandenburg Concerto number 2.

Amy sipped from her glass again, emptying it.

"Amy?"

"Yeah?"

"You were right," Rouge said from behind her mask.

"About what?"

She gulped down the glass of red wine. "Appearances really are fucking overrated."