Whew boy y'all, this chapter was really getting away from me. This chapter wasn't fueled by anything in specific, but the song One Perfect Moment comes to mind when I think of Molly's dream at the beginning. I don't really have anything else to say, so hopefully you lovelies enjoy! ~Shaymie

Molly

"Just breathe, Molly. You've got this."

She stared down her reflection in the mirror, tired honey-colored eyes staring back at her. This was her big night, the one thing she couldn't screw up. Kasey and Angela had both taken off of work to see her perform. They've traveled so far, booked a hotel room... This has to be perfect. She's spent hours rehearsing for this, practicing the moves until they were burned into her mind and her feet were painfully throbbing. She even went on that diet Chelsea recommended. All of that hard work was for this very moment.

She gave a weary smile to the framed picture sitting next to her dressing room mirror. The woman pictured had a wide grin on her face, brown curls framing her delicate face. Honey-colored eyes that were exact mirrors to hers shone brightly at the person behind the camera. Molly took a deep breath. This was for her. Maybe she was watching from... from wherever spirits go after they pass on.

Molly slapped her cheeks and stood up from the chair, frowning as the room temporarily tilted. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to push down the overwhelming nausea. Taking another deep breath, she blindly reached for the bottle of water she had sitting on the counter. Chelsea had told her that this new diet would make her feel sick sometimes, but she would gradually get used to it. But... it felt like the nausea was only getting worse. Kasey and Angela had started asking questions, worried about her wellbeing. She hadn't told them about the diet, knowing that they wouldn't approve of it—

"Shit!" She cursed as her hand knocked the bottled water over, spilling it over the carpet. On reflex, her eyes shot open, sending a fresh wave of dizziness through her. This wasn't supposed to be happening. This was supposed to be her big night. A few more hours. That's all she needs. She pushed back the tears, not wanting to redo her makeup. She could do this. She could persevere.

"Molly! Molls, wake up!"

She groaned as she was shaken awake, her eyes squinting in the light of the room. Angela was looking down at her, her brows scrunched together. Molly pulled herself up to a sitting position and rubbed her eyes. To her surprise, her hands came back wet. Had she been crying in her sleep? And she'd been doing such a good job of not worrying her sister. Guess she could throw all that progress she's made in the garbage.

"S-Sorry for waking you..."

"Apologizing is the last thing you should be worried about right now," Angela sighed, running a hand through her frazzled hair. She gestured for Molly to move over and joined her sister on the impossibly small twin bed. It was an uncomfortable, tight squeeze. They should have just kept the double bed that came with the house. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

Molly shook her head. The last thing she wanted to do was remind Angela of that night. It was ages ago, but sometimes it felt like it was just yesterday. She was glad the dream was cut off before things got really bad. She didn't know if she'd be holding herself together as well as she was if she relived the memory of walking out on that stage, the lights blinding and dizzying... Chelsea's smile, which she thought reassuring at the time, now sinister—

"I need to get some air."

"Air—Molly, it's the middle of the night and it's freezing!" Angela scowled at Molly, who had jumped out of bed and was slipping on a pair of old sneakers. Molly closed her eyes and tried to calm her shaking. It wasn't helping her case much. She wanted to make Angela worry less. She needed to get out of the house. It felt like the room was closing in on her, the air growing thinner and thinner. She can handle the strangely cold Castanet nights. Anything's better than being in here.

"I'll grab a jacket," she breathed out, willing her trembling fingers to tie her shoes so she could hurry out the door. Why couldn't her sister know when to leave things alone? Angela wasn't as overbearing as Kasey, but she was ten times as stubborn. "Angie, please, I just... I can't stay here."

"At least let me go with you—"

"No!" Molly's outburst surprised both sisters. She felt her cheeks grow warm and gave up on tying her shoes, instead tucking the laces into the sides. She mumbled a quick apology to Angela and darted from the room, grabbing her trusty hoodie on the way out. The cool night air was a welcome shock to her system, cooling her flushed cheeks. She tugged the hoodie on and shoved her hands into the pockets.

She found herself at the beach again. Because where else would she go when she was having troubled thoughts? Molly sighed and lowered herself onto the sand, noticing that Chase wasn't here for once. Maybe he was finally getting some sleep. She didn't want anyone to see her like this, anyway. She picked up a seashell absentmindedly, turning it over in her hand.

Why does it seem like I've taken one step forward and a dozen steps back? She's doing better. That's what she told Kasey, and he seemed to believe it. She's been working hard to get where she is, so why was she coming so... unraveled? She hasn't thought about her performing years in what felt like forever, having decided that nothing good came from dwelling on them. It was in the past and she should move on. Maybe she should have Angela put the trophies and medals away after all. She thought she was fine having them displayed in their room.

"Wow, you look like shit." Molly yelped as a pair of violet eyes filled her vision, falling back in the sand. Chase looked down at her with a bored expression on his face, peach curls blowing lightly in the wind. She blinked up at him. When did he get here? Was she so out of it that she didn't hear the sound of his footsteps crunching in the sand?

"That's not the type of thing you should just say to someone." She sat up, brushing sand from her hair and back as thoroughly as she could. She grimaced, knowing that she was going to have to take a shower later. Sand was the glitter of the natural world. No matter how good you thought you had dusted off, it still managed to linger. Hopefully she didn't track too much into the house.

"I just tell it like I see it," Chase said, smirking as Molly's cheeks flushed pink. She huffed, her previous panic forgotten. "What's got you so ruffled?"

"Like you care. You haven't said a word to me in all the nights we've been coming out here." What's gotten into me? Molly exhaled anxiously, looking away from Chase. She never gets snippy like this, especially not with someone she barely even knows. Her fingers squeezed the seashell tightly. Maybe she should go somewhere else to clear her head. "S-Sorry. I'm not normally like this, I just..."

"I don't know, it's kinda cute seeing Castanet's Sweetheart have a bit of attitude." Castanet's Sweetheart? She didn't think she was anywhere near deserving of that title. Weren't sweethearts normally outgoing and charismatic and... popular? Despite having been on the island for a few weeks, Molly hasn't really branched out and gotten to know many people. She's been meaning to, but her shyness kept getting in the way. Currently her best friends are her livestock and Maya.

"...I had a bad dream," she murmured after a brief silence. She couldn't bring herself to look at Chase, her cheeks still a rosy shade of pink. It was times like this that she missed her longer hair. It was her protection against people's stares, and it hid her face when she had started losing weight. "And I yelled at Angie when she tried to get me to talk about it. Normally I'd talk to her about it, but sometimes you just want to be left alone, you know?"

"You do realize who you're talking to, right?"

She looked over at him then. He was regarding her with a small smirk on his face, something she was quickly learning was his signature move. Or maybe it was just the natural state of his face. It's hard to read him. Molly prided herself on being able to read people like a book, but Chase was an enigma. She didn't even know his last name! He seemed to stay in his house all day, only leaving to go to work at the bar. Maybe she should stop by sometime. Angela had learned that there wasn't really a drinking age on the island, so it's not like they'd kick Molly out or anything.

"Do you... have nightmares, too?" she asked quietly, noting the shadows underneath his eyes. She wondered if he came out here every night, and how long he's been doing it. How much sleep did he get? A tired chef sounded like a dangerous thing. One sleepy mishap with a knife and he could chop off a finger. She shivered at the thought, earning her an inquisitive eyebrow raise from Chase. Despite him not even answering the first question, she spoke again. "I, um... I'm growing some chamomile in the windowsill. Do you think it would help you?"

It was a going away gift from Mrs. Florence, the neighborhood grandma. The old lady had an extensive garden and all but forced Molly to take packets of seeds and mason jars of dried herbs. The preserved herbs sat in the cabinets in the kitchen, while the seeds that were in season were put in planter pots and set in the window. Even if Molly was still too weak to handle the roughness of fieldwork, she was glad she had some plants to take care of. Hopefully someday she'll be strong enough to help Angela with the crops. It wasn't fair that her sister did the hardest bit of work when it was her idea to come here in the first place.

"'Chamomile' isn't code for some shady shit, is it?" Molly shook her head, her brows furrowing together in confusion. "Then sure. Can't be any worse than the natural stuff Irene shoved down my throat. Old hag."

"Um... I don't mean to sound rude, but why did you start talking to me all of a sudden?" It was something that she'd been wondering for a while in the back of her mind. Not that she minded him talking. It was nice not sitting in complete silence for once. She huddled deeper into her hoodie as a sudden wind came, blowing her hair into her face. Chase ran a hand through his hair, his smirk turning into a frown. Molly noticed piercings in his ear when his hair was moved.

"Those idiots at the bar got a couple drinks into me," he muttered with a sigh. Looking closer, Molly noticed a slight flush to his cheeks. "Called it pregaming for my birthday. Guess it made me a bit more talkative tonight."

"O-Oh! Happy birthday!" Molly made a mental note to stop by the inn and help Maya with the birthday cake. She's made some progress in the past week, but there's no way she's ready to bake a whole cake by herself. She still made basic mistakes, like foregoing measuring the ingredients and mixing up the sugar and salt. The last thing she wanted to do was give the poor man a stomach ache on his birthday.

"Thanks, Freckles."

"F-Freckles?!" Molly scowled, cursing her easily-reddened cheeks. "If I'm Freckles, then you're... you're Peaches!"

"Peaches, huh? That's a new one," Chase commented dryly, not the tiniest bit bothered. Molly's cheeks grew even redder. Why couldn't he be like her and get embarrassed? She turned towards the ocean, sulking. Angela was right, this guy was annoying. But... some part of her wanted to get to know him. He was unlike anybody she'd known back in the city. She'd find out what he was hiding beneath that aloof attitude and crooked smirk.