There's nothing quite like being stuck in a hospital. I'd been lucky enough in life not to experience it for very long. But this was proving to be a challenge, especially being in Emiarhia. I was trying my hardest not to go stir-crazy, staring up at the same sixty-two ceiling tiles. Other than the considerable freedom I got from travelling to Earth, it felt like I had been stuck in this infirmary room forever. The calendar on the wall told me it had only been just over a week. A quiet Sunday marked day nine. The only good news I'd received in a while was that I was likely to be discharged next week, rather than staying for the original estimate of three weeks total.

I had spent the last few days recovering from a sudden bout of illness. I'd woken up earlier in the week with a fever, low blood pressure, and joint pain. All I wanted to do was sleep; no type of food felt appetizing. After Lunellia discovered new rashes and hives on and around my left arm, she was quick to diagnose me with serum sickness. It was a late-stage hypersensitivity reaction to the antivenom present in my bloodstream. I was pretty winded for the first day, but after some rounds of antihistamines and soothing herbal balms, the symptoms began subsiding. At this point, the only visible evidence of illness I had left was slightly milky eyes and those strange, white markings on half of my upper body. My left arm was wrapped from shoulder to elbow in bandages, which were coated in an anti-inflammatory paste, but I was still free to move it around without a splint or sling. Thankfully, this made dressing myself much easier. Today, I wore a white camisole with soft, dark grey pants, and a loose, camel brown wool cardigan.

Lunellia always made sure my meals were fresh and balanced, although I doubted that was special treatment. I'd eaten lunch with Dad that day. Even though we saw each other every day back on Earth, he still made the effort to see me here once or twice a week. There was even a time when Kadia and I were there together. Things were uneasy at first, but far from terrible. Dad had been keeping tabs on Kadia all these years, anyway. It was a connection that would take time to repair, but at least everyone was willing to do so now.

The constant bustle of activity in the hallways outside my door created a steady hum of noise around me. The shuffling of feet, the squeaks of gurneys, ambient conversations, and the occasional cry of a child. I wasn't the only one stuck here. There were dozens of other people, all waiting anxiously for their chance to leave.

As I sat there in my bed, I couldn't help but feel a sense of vulnerability. The infirmary felt like a foreign land, with its own rules and rituals. It was a place where illness and injury reigned, and one can't help but feel a certain dread and discomfort. Yet at the same time, there was a sense of safety in that place. I knew that these skilled medical professionals were dedicated to helping me recover and heal. And as daunting as it may be, there's a sense of comfort in being in the care of those who were experts on the nature of my condition.

Perhaps my gloomy mood was less reflective of my environment, and more of my mental state. I just couldn't catch a break from everything. First, the snakebite. Second, learning Kadia was my sister – although I didn't give her much choice in telling me or not. Third, having to balance two lives at once. Then, the serum sickness. Finally, I still hadn't seen Ashkan at all since the incident, and trying to find the reason behind that had been driving me insane. Something was not right. But why couldn't I stop thinking about him? Why couldn't I stop thinking about why I kept thinking about him?

I was studying some notes on potion ingredients when my favourite redhead entered the room. She always visited me every day, without fail, in the late afternoon. I was a little disappointed that she was alone, but not surprised. Regardless, her presence never got tiring.

"Hello!" Shaye began, her smile like a beacon of sunlight. Her arms were filled with assorted gifts, which looked moments away from toppling over. "The front desk sent me up with these."

Sighing, I glanced over at the pile of presents and letters cluttering the windowsill, armchair, and floor. Every day, I thought it would stop. And every day thus far, I was proven wrong. There must've been at least three dozen. Some of them remained unopened. I didn't have the energy, nor the desire to open gifts. I felt guilty saying this, but they didn't mean much to me. I took a moment to scan the colourfully wrapped boxes of varying shapes. A box of baked goods from Ysante that I'd eaten half of already. A chic wristwatch from Elliott. A crystal suncatcher from Lilwen. An everlasting inkwell from Miseris. A set of scented candles from Miss Lucera. Even the Winithinian twin princes, Reuvyn and Zyel, had sent me an expensive cape made of blush cashmere and unbelievably soft fur. I wondered which of the two had actually sought out the item.

Some of the gifts were from total strangers, surprisingly. I knew that Northview's security had tools that could see inside each package before approving them, but I was still hesitant to open those ones. The others, however, were from kings and queens all over the planet, who usually sent multiple. The pile was almost overflowing with lavish garments, opulent jewelry, expensive sweets, rare tea leaves, protective charms of questionable efficacy, a never-ending supply of perfumes, and other treasures. It was enough to become slightly suspicious of their individual intentions. The realization that expensiveness didn't always make for a quality gift was really being driven home in my mind.

Shaye set down the new presents wherever she could find a spot. I noticed her eyeing some of the contents of the previous ones. "You've barely touched any of this," she noted.

I shrugged. "Take anything you want. Seriously."

Her eyes brightened, then squeezed shut. "No, no. I shouldn't. Well…" She picked up a lipstick case that was inlaid with glass and precious metal. It was from the queen of Noslux, among other valuables.

"I'm not going to use that," I laughed. "It's yours if you'd like."

"I just wouldn't want it to go to waste!" she replied, pocketing the tube. "Oh! Viktor and I went shopping after school today. He assisted me in selecting some snacks for you. He asked me to wish you a quick recovery as well."

"Viktor?" I echoed, watching her empty them from her bag. I recognized some of my favourites: asicot bites, shade bark, moon-blanched wafers, and pliwe rolls.

Shaye nodded. "He can be awkward, but I'm beginning to enjoy his company. Did you know he paints?"

"I didn't."

"Neither did I!"

"It's nice that you two have art to talk about then. Be sure to thank him for me," I said. "Anything else new?"

At that, she launched into a detailed recollection of pertinent topics. "Well, I'm sure you've seen that all the news outlets are continuing to report on your condition – with varying accuracy. It's all self-serving… As if the fate of this planet doesn't rely on your health. Most of them are only concerned with you being Earthborn." She shook her head in disapproval. "Other than that, everything is more or less the same. Professors ask about you once in a while. Ofelia's suspension is over, and she hasn't caused any trouble yet…"

I bit the inside of my cheek. "Have you seen her with Ashkan at all? Maybe that would explain his absence."

Shaye's expression softened. I wondered if she was tired of me asking about him. "He isn't interacting with just about anyone, Brielle, let alone Ofelia. I'm sure he'll show up soon!" she reassured. Her voice had a tinge of exasperation in it. "Enough about him. How are you faring today?"

"Still have some joint pain, but I feel okay."

"That's good to hear. And…" She seemed nervous. "How are you and Kadia doing?"

"Fine, I guess," I answered, averting my eyes. "I know we're sisters, but it doesn't feel like it. Nothing really feels different at all. Except now there's this unspoken pressure to have a normal relationship."

Shaye put a hand on my shoulder. "There isn't such thing as a 'normal' family. Especially not when multiverse ones are concerned. We all have dynamics that we deem imperfect… Divorces, adoptions, stepparents, estranged members, affairs, secrets, vendettas. I think it's important for you not to focus on that. Kadia is an adult, with her own life and responsibilities. You don't live together. Nobody is pressuring you except for yourself. All you must do is keep being genuine. Everything will work out."

I hadn't even finished thinking of a response to that when there was a knock on the door. Immediately, a prickling sensation shot up my spine. It could be anyone. Although, the receptionist wouldn't approve just any visitor… "Come in," I called out.

The door swung open to reveal two additional sights for sore eyes: Miseris and Lilwen. Like everyone else who'd visited me for the first time, they froze for half a second, understandably contemplating my almost ghoulish appearance. Then, they rushed to my bedside, offering hugs and warm greetings.

"I hope this is an appropriate time," Lilwen said after pulling back from our embrace. "We wanted to visit at a time that was as least taxing as possible for you."

"Great timing, actually," I replied. "Already, it almost feels as though we're eating lunch at the Academy."

Miseris let out a hearty laugh, which echoed slightly across the walls. Good thing each patient room was reinforced with a muting charm so as to not bother those within earshot. "De Mavset, you gotta hurry up and get better, all right? I miss having you around to bad-mouth dunces with!"

I grinned. "I'm working on it, promise."

"Lilwen, I meant to ask you," Shaye piped up, "how did your swim meet go yesterday?"

She smiled. "Quite well! Everyone is working very hard. I just hope we will qualify for the semi-finals…"

"No way you won't," Miseris said. I nodded in agreement. "Hey!" she added, turning to me. "Did you test out that inkwell yet?"

"I did. I annotated some class notes yesterday. It works great; thank you." I then looked at Lilwen. "And thank you for the suncatcher; it's really pretty."

"You are most welcome," she answered. "I can hang it up for you, if you'd like."

I carefully extracted the ornament from its box amongst the gift pile and handed it to her. She got to work on determining the best location for it to hang based on the sun's rays, and the four of us continued catching up. There was never a shortage of topics to discuss between us. We went back and forth about classes, people, rumours, and other typical chatter. Miseris spoke all about how she got into a debate with one of her professors, and Lilwen shared how she finally managed to make ice cream using ice magic. I learned about how Althea Hiuring accidentally cast an ancient spell in Rune Interpretation class, that Leopold Peeksue finally broke up with Tilly Rodson in a dramatic hallway confrontation, and Headmaster Gunthren still hadn't found out who had released spiders into the library last week. Ofelia had apparently gained some new enemies after her rosumvius stunt, but was focusing her time on improving her botany skills, with the ultimate goal of getting an internship at the Horticulturalists' Guild in Criosedera after graduating. It was nice to hear something positive about her.

The room became quiet for a brief moment. Then Miseris cleared her throat. "So, can I ask you guys something?" Everyone turned to her, curious. "I'm thinking of getting a job, but I don't know where to start. Any advice?"

"The position at Pixie Confections didn't work out?" Shaye asked, frowning.

"About as well as you could imagine," Miseris laughed. "Turns out, I'm not the right fit to work at a place mostly frequented by snot-nosed rugrats. I could also never pull the taffy right…"

"How about The Wizard's Plume?" Lilwen suggested. "You know a lot about quills."

She shook her head. "Too stuffy."

"The Menagerie of Mystical Critters? Down Evrai Road?"

"The smell of that place is impossible not to retch at."

"Cabirug's Apothecary?"

"As if! Cabirug is chauvinistic scum."

"My grandfather might need some extra help at his blacksmith, Blades & Bijoux," Shaye offered.

"I'd probably break everything in there, including your grandfather," Miseris admitted.

"What about being a bartender?" I cut in. "You're old enough, you can handle rowdy patrons, and I know the son of the owner of The Roaring Witch. I could maybe snag you an interview."

"Now there's an idea!" she exclaimed.

"That seems very appropriate to me," Lilwen agreed. She had just finished hanging up the suncatcher near one of the windows with an affixing charm. The facets of its crystals peppered the opposite wall in sparkly, rainbow geometry. It wouldn't last long, however, as the sun had nearly entirely set by now.

"Well, don't you worry about that for now. Let me know if that's still on the table after you get out of here," Miseris said.

I gave her a firm nod. "Will do. The owner's son is super smart, and really nice too. It's kind of a wild story how Shaye and I met him, actually. It was back when we were–"

Knock.

A quiet but sharp sound suddenly rang throughout the room. Everyone fell quiet. If it wasn't for that, I would've thought I was hearing things.

"The door?" Shaye whispered to me. I shrugged.

A few seconds later, I heard it again. The sound of knuckles against wood. Knock…knock. …Knock, knock, knock. They seemed to grow in intensity. Someone was knocking on my door. My heart rate spiked. It was practically nighttime. This was either Kadia, one of the trainers, Lunellia, or…

"Shall I?" Miseris asked me.

"I… Sure," I said. I hated that you could hear my nervousness. I thought I knew who this was.

She rose to her feet and strode casually over to the door. "Yes?" she called out. From the moment her hand touched the doorknob, time seemed to pass only half as fast. With a quick fling, the door was open. Indeed, someone was on the other side. I leaned forwards to see the figure better.

Ashkan. Of course.

It had to be him. My heart beat faster. I felt a strange sense of trepidation. He stared blankly at Miseris for a moment, probably surprised to see her. I took a moment to process his appearance. I was used to seeing him nearly every day. The way I felt now seemed so wrong. I watched him stuff his hands into the pockets of his black trousers. Underneath his grey trench coat, he wore a maroon sweater. His hair was somewhat dishevelled, and he looked tired. His expression was a mask, but subtly anxious nonetheless. He seemed at a loss for words.

Miseris took a step back and studied him. She crossed her arms. "Really, mate? Now?" was all she said before turning away.

"Ashkan… It is late," Lilwen spoke in a bewildered, but rebuking tone.

Shaye, on the other hand, kept silent. She pursed her lips and furrowed her eyebrows, eyes shooting daggers, like a simmering pot about to boil over.

Just when I thought I couldn't possibly feel any more emotions, Ashkan's gaze landed on me. It was almost electric. And it lingered like glue. His mouth opened and he took in a breath, then blinked several times, but said nothing. I could feel his eyes pass over me, noting my somewhat sickly features. There were a billion questions written on his face. I tried to maintain composure, tried to appear unfazed, even though my stomach had become a twisted knot. I didn't know what to do. I felt relieved, I felt shocked, I felt hurt. All at once, I felt like laughing, crying, and yelling at him. In all my time thinking about him and why he didn't visit, I somehow forgot to decide what to say when we'd eventually meet once more.

"I… I didn't mean to interrupt anything," Ashkan finally managed to say. "I just wanted to...see you. It's been too long... I'm sorry. I was worried about you."

Oh, how I wanted that to be true. "You were not," I said quietly.

"No. No," Shaye interjected, positioning herself firmly between me and him. "It is unacceptable for you to utterly turn a blind eye to Brielle for nine days, then just waltz in here at eight o'clock at night and apologize as if that fixes everything. Unacceptable, Ashkan."

He looked back and forth between us two. "I know, Shaye. You're right."

She stood on her tiptoes to block me from his line of sight. "All right, then? What is your excuse? Since you know everything." Her tone was becoming more aggravated. "Was, was there a death? An accident? Did you fall into a coma? Did you catch an illness? What was it? You continued to show up to school and training, so I know it wasn't anything gravely serious. So what, pray tell, is your reasoning for abandoning one of your best friends in such a time of need? I've never known you to act like this."

Ashkan simply stared at his feet. "I…I haven’t been at my best lately."

"And why is that?" Shaye's hands curled into fists.

"Not sure. Been...distracted." He rubbed the back of his neck.

"Distracted?!" She laughed wryly. "Distracted. Really, Ashkan? Distracted is what one becomes when one is bored in class, or when one is hungry, or when there is too much noise around. You should not get distracted when your friend is close to dying all alone in a hospital!" Her voice began to shake. I'd never heard such anger leave her mouth. "It was all I could think about for days and days! How were you okay with forgetting about her?!"

"Shaye, it's fine–" I cut in, the pit of stress in my stomach only growing.

Ashkan interrupted, "I didn't forget… It's complicated. You wouldn't understand."

"EVERYONE on this damned planet is complicated!" Shaye exclaimed, gesturing wildly. She was almost yelling. "That doesn't excuse how you acted! It seems painfully obvious to me that an injured friend would need company! WHY can't you understand that?!" She planted her hands on Ashkan's shoulders and grabbed fistfuls of his coat. Her fists pounded on his upper chest, almost shaking him by the collar. He didn't fight back. "You should've seen her! You should've SEEN her! Like a puppet doll, covered in wires and tubes an-and sensors, and bandages, and… And… Sh-Shame on y-you…!" Her voice finally broke, and she burst into tears. Lilwen quickly pulled her aside and into her arms.

"I think…he gets the point," Miseris told her, patting her on the back. "We'll head out now, Brielle. Unless you want us to stay, of course."

I shook my head. "That's okay, but thanks. Go home and get some rest."

She and Lilwen each gave me one last hug.

"You can always call one of us if you need anything," Lilwen said before we exchanged goodbyes.

Miseris followed her out the door. "Don't you hurt her, got it?" she warned Ashkan before leaving, pointing a finger. He ran a hand through his hair, looking embarrassed.

Shaye was the last to go. Her tears had dried by now. "Listen," she told me, taking my hands in hers. "Pay no mind to any nonsense that prat might spew, all right? He'll leave if you want him to."

I gave her a small smile. "Thanks, Shaye. I think we have some things to talk about, but… I'll be fine. Don't worry." She gave my hands a squeeze, then shut the door behind her.

I took a breath and turned around. The air was now deafeningly silent. It was stifling, like there wasn't enough room for all my feelings to fit comfortably. I needed to leave. I needed to go somewhere else. Without a word, I slipped my outdoor shoes on, opened the door, and walked out into the hallway.

"Hey, where are you going?" Ashkan called out. His feet followed after mine like a chase.

I didn't care whether or not he'd tag along. I just needed fresh air. I walked all the way to the back of the hospital, ignoring any confused glances directed my way. There was a large garden at the back end, which was open all the time for patients and staff to relax and stroll around.

Immediately, my nerves settled slightly upon entering. The glass doors gave way to a wall of cool air and different floral aromas. The garden was like a dome-shaped greenhouse, with walls and a ceiling made entirely of glass panels. It was warm enough for certain plants and flowers to grow, but not as warm as inside the actual infirmary. Nobody else was in there. I made my way to the far wall, taking a seat on a wrought-iron bench. The metal was cold, even through my clothes. In front of me, beyond the glass, was a sight that resembled a postcard. To the right, houses and buildings as far as the eye could see. Snow clung to every structure, blanketing everything in powdery dust. Cobblestone paths, iron streetlamps, and trees broke apart the pattern of roofs. To the left, a small lake. The stars reflected so brightly off the calm water that it was nearly impossible to separate it from the sky. For a split second, I forgot I wasn't alone.

I could see Ashkan's boots from the corner of my eye. I felt a shiver crawl up my spine as he got closer. Tentatively, he sat down beside me, staying as far as possible.

Unsurprisingly, my thoughts were still a mess. "…Ashkan?" I began after several beats of silence.

He turned to look at me. "Yes?"

I stayed facing forwards, avoiding his gaze. "Why do we continue to find ourselves in situations like this?"

"I really wish I knew," he replied after a sigh.

"It's like…" I paused for a bit. "One day, we're great friends. Then the next, it doesn't seem like it. It's… It gets confusing."

Ashkan pinched the bridge of his nose and leaned back. "I… I know. For what it's worth, Brielle, I really am sorry for being so distant. It was very wrong of me." His tone was so soft it was almost sad.

"Well… Thanks for the apology." I angled myself a little more towards him. "Although I don't think it's crazy of me to ask… Why? I mean, what's going on? Or what happened?"

"A lot," he admitted with a shake of his head. "Internal struggles, that's all. It's a shoddy reason, and no excuse."

I bit my lip. "Do you…want to talk about it?"

"No," he said firmly. "This isn't about me. It's about you."

"This is a friendship, Ashkan. It's kind of more about…us."

At that, his eyes widened slightly before he turned away. "So… You mean to tell me that all this time, you were stuck in this infirmary lamenting over me? As if I was…crucial to your improvement? As if you were unable to have a good day without me?"

I squinted. It wasn't clear to me if he was implying something. "Not exactly. It was more like… You were the only puzzle piece missing. The only one in my circle that I hadn't seen. The absence was pretty glaring, considering we see each other virtually every day."

"True, but…" He sat up straighter. I could tell that there was something he wasn't understanding. "Brielle, I don't… I'm not… I'm just me. I-I struggle to believe that my absence affected you this much." His voice grew louder and more determined. "You… You have everything you want. Great friends, a loving family, a supportive community around you. Every professor you meet takes a liking to you. Every king or queen you meet does the same. When we walk through the market together, merchants are practically clambering over each other just to talk to you. Anything else you want is readily available at your beck and call. Right now, in this very building, you have a mountain of presents that were selected just for you!"

"I didn't ask for those," I pointed out, unsure if I was feeling more surprised or offended. "I don't even like most of them. Also, most of Emiarhia hates me for being born on Earth. You know that."

"But everyone who gives you a chance and gets to know you ends up adoring you," he countered. His eyes then lifted to mine, and the emotion in them pinned me for a moment. "They either love you or they're jealous of you. Either way, you're…revered. Maybe it's genuine, maybe it's manipulative, but still. And everyone else is too ignorant to see the good in you. Think about it. You're Earthian, and despite that, you're still being showered in gifts and praise. You have literal royalty wrapped around your finger. How could I possibly add to your… Your happiness?"

I struggled to form a response. Was he saying that the discrimination I'd been facing ever since I first discovered Emiarhia was all in my head? I was getting frustrated. "That's not how I see it, Ashkan. The gifts and everything, it's a lot. I know. But I never wanted any of that. I don't have everything I want. At times, I would give anything to remove myself from the spotlight. But I can't."

"And at times, I would give anything to change my life to be more like yours. But I can't," he muttered, his tone vaguely sour.

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A bubble of anger rose to the surface. I faced him straight-on. "My life is not that easy, Ashkan! Do you know what it's like to have strangers despise you, no matter where you go or what you do?"

He suddenly shot up out of his seat. "Do you know what it's like to have your own family despise you? The very people who are supposed to love and support you unconditionally?!" His shoulders shook with each breath. There was so much pain in his expression. "My mother is DEAD! And my father wishes daily for me to hurry and join her! I have that burden to shoulder, every day, on top of everything else! So I apologize if I have trouble believing that I better your life. I tend to only make lives harder, or easier. Not better."

His eyes began to water slightly. I couldn't look away. I just sat there, staring up at his exasperated, troubled face. It was a new sight for sure. Gradually, it shifted into one of shock, then regret.

His arms slumped to his sides. "…I-I'm sorry. I'm sorry; I shouldn't have…"

The next minute was almost a blur. My heart felt like it was bleeding. On a whim, I stood up and took Ashkan by the shoulders, making him face me. I could tell from his furrowed eyebrows and stoic look that he was already trying his hardest to suppress everything, to stuff all of those feelings back into a lockbox. His eyes darted all around the room, somewhat red around the edges.

Then, gently, I pulled him close, my arms wrapping around his neck. His tall form had to lean down slightly. My rapid pulse filled my ears as I shut my eyes. For several seconds, neither of us moved. Ashkan just stood there. I started to worry that I'd overstepped.

"Brielle," he eventually spoke up. His voice was so close to my ear. "You've been in the hospital for over a week. You're the one who needs comforting, not me."

I opened my eyes and inhaled slowly through my nose, carefully considering my answer to that. "...Just because your wounds aren't visible doesn't mean you're any less worthy of being comforted."

At first, there was no reaction. But I soon heard him take a shaky breath, and steadily, he snaked both arms around my back. His right palm pressed into my shoulder blade. The embrace was tighter than I'd expected, but I was glad he was being himself. I was glad he was feeling. That's all I wanted.

When we both stepped back, I smiled lightly. "I have things you don't have to deal with, and you have things I don't have to deal with. It's not about competition. It's about supporting each other, even if we can't relate." The two of us returned to our spots on the bench. "I told you I'd always be here for you, remember? …I meant that."

He nodded solemnly. "I remember. It's so easy to say things like that and not mean them, is the problem."

"Ashkan, when Balgaur's Inkbloods attacked you, you spent several days in this same infirmary. I visited you every single one of those days. Tell me, did that mean nothing to you?"

"No, I–" He winced. "Are you angry with me?"

I laughed softly. "No. Just answer the question."

"It… It meant much to me. I appreciated it quite a lot, to be honest," he admitted, his gaze shifting to his hands. "You and Shaye both did that."

"Right, so…?" I continued, wondering if he was connecting the dots. "That was months ago. Why would I do that if I didn't want to be there for you? And why wouldn't I appreciate that from you?"

A look of realization crossed his face before it was replaced by one of embarrassment.

"I'm not trying to make you look bad, I swear," I jumped in. I took some time to search for the right words to follow with. "You… You are your mother's son. That's something to be proud of; she seems like she was a wonderful woman. But you are so much more than that, also."

"It is easy to lose sight of that, especially when everyone puts her death on the front page of my identity in their minds..."

"Must be exhausting. Those people's opinions aren't worth your time, though. Who cares what they think? The most important thing is what you think of you." Ashkan seemed to be deep in thought, so I just kept talking. "Some people devote so much time and energy into preparing for people not to like them, that they neglect the possibility of the opposite. Maybe you like who you are. Maybe you don't. Or maybe you're somewhere in the middle. That's for you to decide." I brought my eyes over to his. "But… I like who you are. And so do a lot of people, believe it or not. So, if you haven't already… I think it's high time you start doing the same."

He looked over and smiled handsomely, a look I'd very seldom seen. It made my mind go fleetingly blank. "You once told me you weren't great with words. I'm very much inclined to stop believing that."

My eyebrows raised. "I'm usually not; I don't know where that came from. Maybe I'm learning?"

"Either way, I appreciate it. I appreciate…you," he said, looking awkward but sincere.

I glanced back outside. "So, are you sure you don't want to talk about what's going on? I mean, what's there to be afraid of? We're already here."

Ashkan inhaled, held it, then shook his head. "It's better if I keep it to myself. Just know that I'm figuring it out."

I knew better than to push my luck. It wasn't my place to pry. So we sat there in silence for a couple more minutes, enjoying each other's company.

"I think you should head back," he voiced after a while. "It's getting late. You still need rest."

"I'm not tired," I replied with a chuckle. "Besides, I still haven't told you about everything that's happened lately!"

That seemed to surprise him a little. "Oh, then… Please. I'm all ears." He perched his arms along the back of the bench before adding, "Wait, I should do something first. Stand up."

I complied, resting my hands on my hips. "What is it?"

In three swift movements, Ashkan removed his trench coat, shook it out, then draped it around me. "You felt cold earlier," he explained, adjusting the collar so it fit more snugly. "I... I do care about you, Brie. I just need to be better at…showing it."

I felt my face flush a bit. "Thank you…" One at a time, I slipped my arms into the arm holes. The shoulders were definitely a little wide on me, but the insulating fabric was a welcome sensation. "You can be pretty sweet when you want to, you know."

He nodded. "So I've been told." Again, there was that soft, kind tone of voice. Although I'd been questioning it for days, I was confident now that we were okay. Everything was in its right place. "Right, then. Tell me everything," he said, giving me all of his attention.

Several hours passed before I went to bed. Ashkan and I kept talking well into the night. Although, I suppose I was doing most of the talking. He listened attentively the whole time, inserting the occasional comment or question. For once, he wasn't trying to hide his curiosity. Naturally, he was nothing short of floored to hear about Kadia being my sister. That revelation needed a lot of explaining. Still, he was very sympathetic about it. I figured it was best if he knew. Other than that, I went into detail about my treatments and progress at the infirmary. I figured it was also best if he knew why I looked the way I did. Ashkan showed no signs of boredom the entire time, thankfully. I was a little surprised by that. So, we chatted for hours. It was safe to say that I slept more soundly that night.

Little did I know that he would visit me every day after that until I was free to leave.

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It only took a few days for things to settle back to normal after I'd left Northview. I never wanted to be in a situation like that again. I tried not to dwell on the fact that I had almost no control over that. On the bright side, the stress associated with that situation was now gone, which meant I could proceed with Earthly routines with much less tension.

"What's all that for?" Spencer asked me one day after last period.

I was busy trying to stuff a bunch of loose papers into a binder. They were covered in calculations and graphs. "It's another chemistry lab," I told her. "It's the last one, so it's really complicated."

She groaned while tying her hair up into a bun. "I can't believe finals week is almost here. I hate exams." Her grumpy expression quickly dissipated. "So, Luke is your lab partner again, I assume?"

"Well, yeah…" I said, cramming the overflowing binder into my backpack. "We work well together."

"Hah. Chemistry, get it?" She wiggled her eyebrows in an exaggerated manner.

I feigned amazement. "Wow. How long did it take you to come up with that one?" Since it was Friday, Spencer and I had Book Club to attend. We started making our way towards the library. "We're just friends," I continued. "Sorry to crush your dreams, but if nothing's happened in these past four months, I don't think anything like that is destined to happen at all."

"Hmm, are you trying to convince me, or are you trying to convince yourself?" she parried, grinning. I rolled my eyes. "I'm just saying, Chloe! I like you two together. Be glad I'm not putting money on this, 'kay?"

As we strolled through the school hallways, I took a bit to think about what Spencer was getting at. It was easy for me to ignore things like that. I always had a full plate to deal with. The only thing I was sure of was that Luke and I were friends. Well, that and how every so often, he would make me feel a certain way that nobody else did. That bubbly, heart-seizing feeling. It was hard to describe. I hadn't felt it for long enough to decode that emotion yet. Regardless, how was I supposed to know what that meant, if anything? Maybe it was a normal part of a friendship. I wasn't exactly an expert on those matters. I'd never bothered to ask Spencer to elaborate on her suspicions because they seemed outlandish to me, or foreign at best. Besides, even if I did have feelings for Luke, how would that work? For all I knew, I could be dead in six months.

"…That makes sense," Spencer mumbled, snapping me out of my thoughts. I followed her gaze to something farther up ahead.

It was Nathan, of all people, scooping out armfuls of miscellaneous clutter from his locker. None of his friends were around, which was unusual. Not even Veronica.

"Why does it make sense?" I asked her.

She frowned. "I heard his parents got a divorce, so he's moving in with his mom in Bakersfield. Y'know, Nathan's not exactly upstanding, but I never like when that happens to people."

I couldn't think of a response to that. She had a point.

We grew nearer, and I watched him toss a beaten-up textbook onto the floor near some other supplies. He glanced in our direction, did a double take, then locked eyes with me. Immediately, I felt myself put a guard up.

Unexpectedly, Nathan called out, "Chloe?"

I sighed. Spencer looked to me for instructions. Reluctantly, I approached him. He had dark circles under his eyes.

"You're moving away?" was all I said.

He nodded slowly.

I crossed my arms. "Well… Good luck."

I was about to leave when he added, "Hey. …I'm sorry."

I turned back around to face him. An apology? Really? But I'd never seen that expression on his face before. …Guilt. It was like there were a thousand things he wanted to say. My brain flooded with memories of Farrah's last party. I still wished I hadn't gone.

"…Thanks," I replied with a shrug.

With that, Spencer and I walked away. I knew that was the last time I'd cross paths with Nathan. And that was okay with me.

"What's up, guys?" Luke greeted us when we reached the circle of chairs at the back of the library.

"Hi!" I took a seat between him and Spencer. "Have you finished the novel yet?"

"Yeah, last week. The cliffhanger was too much to bear," he commented with a laugh.

"The ending was crazy! What a twist," Spencer chimed in.

The meeting progressed, and the group leader asked everyone's opinion on the book. Everyone took turns discussing the character evolutions, dynamics, plot, and conflict. I'd read the story just like everybody else, but I didn't have much to add to the conversation. Every conclusion I'd made wasn't anything groundbreaking. As usual, I just listened to other people instead. Luke in particular always had something interesting to say, finding obscure connections within small details of the novel. It was kind of endearing. I wondered if there was anything he didn't put his full effort into.

Afterwards, the leader asked what everyone enjoyed about the club, and what they could do better for next year. Book Club only ran for one semester, so this was our last meeting. I was honestly thankful to have more time next semester to dedicate to other responsibilities. I was surprised that Luke didn't join the conversation, though. Instead, he shifted his attention to me.

"Hey. Any plans for the weekend?" he whispered, leaning in close to speak. The sudden proximity made my heart jump.

I cleared my throat and tried not to stare at him for too long. "Um… Not many. Why?"

"Well, if you're not busy tomorrow night, I wouldn't mind some company at this event my uncle is dragging me to. It's a private thing, but I could get you in."

"Oh, I can't," I replied, frowning. "My mom is a costume designer, and she did the wardrobe for this movie that's being released next month. The cast and crew are throwing a party, and she wants me to go so I can wear one of her designs and take some photos. I guess she didn't feel like hiring a professional."

Luke's eyes widened. "No way! She worked on Intertwined?"

"Yeah, actually. How'd you know?"

"This is crazy, but that's the event I was talking about. My uncle directed that."

It was my turn to be shocked. "Wait, wait. Your uncle is Dean Ottinger?" That surname wasn't common, but still, I never made the connection.

"That's him." He smiled. "I guess I'll see you there, then."

I mirrored his expression. "Yeah, I guess so."

----------------------------------------

Just before seven p.m., Mom and I walked into the Scarlet Auditorium in northern San Diego. Just outside of its entrance, a red carpet was rolled out behind velvet ropes, where the actors were busy being photographed and interviewed. The interior was a magnificent sight to behold, with its grandiose design and opulent decor. The plush, velvety seats were arranged in tiers, framed by the ornate balconies that hung above like a crown. The richly panelled walls had intricate designs etched into them, and the massive stage was equipped with state-of-the-art lighting and audio equipment. The soaring ceiling above was adorned with exquisite chandeliers, casting sparkling light throughout the space.

Connected to the main auditorium was another massive room, a lounge for dining and socializing. In the back corner, there were rows upon rows of hors d'oeuvres, as well as a fully-stocked bar nearby. Hundreds of A-listers, film critics, and industry insiders mingled about. It was pretty unreal to be in the same room as several famous actors. I just followed Mom around while she greeted people. Everyone seemed to know her well.

"All right, Chloe," she said after a while. "I should go chat with the producer. Why don't you start taking some photos? I can use the good ones for my article,"

"Sure thing," I replied, taking out my DSLR camera from its carrying case slung around my shoulder. As I lifted it to my eye, Mom disappeared into the crowd. I was left alone in a sea of gowns and tuxedos.

First, I carefully made my way over to the food tables. Everything was mostly untouched, making for good photo composition. I took some angled photos of the grilled salmon focaccia and herb-marinated olives. To my right, there was a conical arrangement of macarons beside a revolving tray of potted lavender crème brûlée. After snapping some more pictures, I turned around and scanned the room with the viewfinder. There was a pyramid of champagne-filled glasses that created some interesting light reflections. On the wall behind it, the official poster for Intertwined. Nearby, a mini stage with a DJ. There were plenty of sights to document.

I was surveying the room once more when I spotted someone familiar through the camera: Luke. He was dressed more casually than most of the guests but still looked quite polished. He was wearing an oversized, white button-down t-shirt with a black grid pattern. The top few buttons were left undone, and it was tucked loosely into dark grey trousers. The look was complete with a black leather belt, black oxfords, and a silver wristwatch. None of that was what I zeroed in on first, however. Weirdly enough, he was also wearing glasses – the clubmaster type, to be precise – something I was positive I'd never seen.

I watched Luke look around, his eyes passing right over me. He glanced back a second later. I lowered my camera, and our eyes locked. He smiled. As he walked towards me, I could feel a blush creep across my face. I was starting to get concerned that that was becoming a frequent occurrence.

"Hey. Nice camera," Luke commented when he was within earshot.

"Thanks," I replied. "I'm hoping to get some better photos when things start rolling here. So far, everything I've got would be more fitting for a food blog than my mom's fashion company."

"Well, let me know if I can help with that," he chuckled. Then, his expression turned more serious. "You, uh… You look awesome, by the way."

With that, my rosiness only worsened. "Oh, thanks. Like I said yesterday, it's one of my mom's designs."

I took a moment to glimpse at my outfit. The dress was a sort of cloud grey, with a strapless, corset-style bodice and tulle layers. The skirt stopped just above my knees. The top also had a tulle overlayer, which extended into see-through, balloon sleeves. The entire piece was embellished with silver, glittery stars. On my feet, I wore matching tulle socks along with black, buckled Mary Janes. My wavy hair was parted to the side as usual, and one side was pinned back by silver barrettes with stars on them. Constellation earrings and rings topped it off.

"You look great, too," I added, looking back up.

"Thank you. If we get bored, we can play tic-tac-toe on my shirt," he joked. I laughed, and he joined in. "Sorry. That was terrible."

"So, I didn't know you wore glasses," I continued.

"I'm kind of nearsighted," he explained, "and I ran out of contact lenses. Going to pick more up on Monday."

I nodded understandingly. "Anyway, remind me why you're here?"

"My uncle doesn't like me being at his house alone. That's really the long and the short of it." He shifted his gaze to the crowd behind us, then pointed at someone within the throng. "There's Dean."

I followed the line of his gesture to a man wearing a simple tuxedo. Dean Ottinger was a tall, lean man with pronounced features. He had a thinning head of dark hair with a few wisps of grey at the edges. He seemed to be exuding an aura of quiet authority over those near him. It still hadn't settled with me that Luke was related to such a reputable director, let alone that Dean wasn't as kind as he appeared in interviews.

"Has he told you what Intertwined is about? Because I've only heard bits and pieces," I asked.

"Doesn't stop talking about it, actually. It's like a sci-fi thriller kind of thing. It's about a young woman, Mina, who hears this male voice in her head constantly and has for most of her life. She's been put on meds and had treatments and was eventually just locked up in a psych ward. She's tried to ignore the voice the whole time, but once she learns to listen to it, and speaks back, she gains supernatural powers and mind control. Turns out, spoilers, the voice was a real guy named Garrick, who is also locked in that psych ward. So, they communicate back and forth, using their powers to escape, and they fall in love by the end."

"Sounds cool," I replied.

He shrugged nonchalantly. "And you're here with your mom, right? She was the wardrobe designer?"

"Yeah, she's…" I scanned the crowd. "Right there. With the violet gown and white stole."

He leaned to the side to spot her. "Oh, I see the resemblance."

I rolled my eyes and smiled. "If I had a nickel for every time someone's told me that…"

As the party's main events began, everyone moved to the theatre. Luke and I took our seats in the red velvet chairs near the back. It goes without saying, but neither one of us was particularly interested in anybody's speeches. Instead, we talked quietly amongst ourselves about various different things as the cast and crew took turns addressing the audience.

"It was insane," Luke said, describing his last soccer game, "the ball went flying into the net. From the other side of the field."

"No way."

"I swear!" he defended. "Man, I should ask Calvin to teach me how to do that. Maybe I can learn before the season ends in February."

"I'm sure you could do it," I said with a nod.

He gave a lopsided smile, then thought for a moment. "Ah, enough about me. Let's talk about something else. How'd you get into photography?"

I was somewhat taken aback by the sudden interest. "Um, my mom is a little obsessed with taking pictures of everything. Preserving memories and all that. I probably started using cameras not long after finishing kindergarten. It was more of a chore at first, but I've grown to like it."

"Interesting. The forced exposure method."

I let out a small laugh. "Precisely."

"Me, I like looking at photos and art, but I usually don't understand much about what I'm looking at," he shared.

"I don't think you have to," I replied. "There's nothing wrong with appreciating beauty without knowing everything about its…nature and context."

He tilted his head to the side. "Good point. Do you have any other hobbies?"

Abnormally for me, I didn't let that discussion end there. Maybe it was the sense of comfort Luke gave me, or maybe it was simply because we were stuck in a theatre, waiting to go home. "Besides photography, it was never easy for me to pinpoint any. I've never really known who or what I wanted to be… Even now, I don't even know if I want to go to college. It took me a while to discover what I liked and didn't like, and even longer to decide on hobbies. I bounced around activities a lot as a kid. Sports, dance, gardening, drawing, you name it."

"A jack of all trades," Luke pointed out, arching an eyebrow.

"Yeah, emphasis on 'master of none'."

At that, he turned his head to look at me straight-on with a doubtful expression. "Yet, still better than a master of one. Come on, there has to be something that you absolutely love to spend time doing, more than anything else."

I stared at my lap while considering his statement. In all honesty, the first thing I thought of was Emiarhia. I'd come to really enjoy my time there. Training, learning magic, adventuring, all of it. It didn't always love me back, but still. Ironically, it was one of the very few places where I felt truly at home. It was the closest I'd ever been to being a natural at anything.

Realizing I hadn't answered yet, I quickly spoke up, "I guess there's…taking photos, music, movies…hanging out with friends…video games, sometimes… And I've always liked running and swimming." It was kind of embarrassing how boring I sounded.

I was relieved that Luke didn't seem to think so. "See? Those are all great options," he said. "I'm also definitely a movie person. That's one of the reasons why my parents felt that me living with my uncle would be a right fit."

"Did they not know how strict he is?" I questioned.

"No idea," he responded, sounding slightly defeated. "Dean is my dad's only brother, so maybe he knew. But the grandparents I still have aren't in any state to have a dependent, and none of my mom's siblings live in California. And Dean's unmarried, so I can't say it was an illogical decision."

"How are your parents, by the way?"

"Same as usual. Busy as always. It'll be nice to see them once Christmas rolls around."

I couldn't help but feel a tiny bit sad about his situation. He was always dismissive about it, though, so maybe I shouldn't have felt that way. "Well, my offer still stands. Feel free to use my house as a place of respite, if needed."

The corner of Luke's mouth quirked upwards. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose with his knuckle. "I know. Thanks, Chloe."

We turned our attention to the stage as a wave of applause suddenly rippled through the crowd. To my surprise, I watched my mom walk up and join the line of people already there. I recognized the main actors from Intertwined, as well as Dean, the producer, the screenwriter, the set designer, and the head makeup artist, all of whom I'd met an hour ago.

"Last but certainly not least," Dean spoke into a microphone, "this movie would not be nearly as visually stunning without our magnificent wardrobe department. Let us hear a word from the head of costume design, Geneva Harlington!" He smiled widely before handing Mom the mic.

"Thank you very much, Mr. Ottinger," she spoke after the applause died down. "Good evening, everyone. As the lead costume designer for Intertwined, I am honoured to stand here before you and share a few words on this special night. First and foremost, I want to express my gratitude to the director, producers, and the entire cast and crew for their hard work and dedication in bringing this project to life. It has truly been a collaborative effort to create this cinematic masterpiece, and I feel privileged to have been a part of it. From the early concept sketches to the final fittings, every step of the costume design process has been an absolute joy. I have been inspired by the characters, the heart-wrenching story, the dystopian setting, and the futuristic era, and it has been a pleasure to channel that inspiration into the costumes."

"Is she always this well-spoken?" Luke whispered into my ear.

"She's a perfectionist through and through," I whispered back.

As Mom turned her head to address each section of the audience, her earrings sparkled under the stage lights. "As a designer, my goal is to contribute to a film's overall vision by creating unique and memorable looks for each character that not only look amazing on screen, but also reflect their personality, motivations, and journey. I have poured my heart and soul into Mina's and Garrick's costumes, and I hope you will see that in every frame of the film." She paused briefly, then added, "I also want to take a moment to acknowledge the incredible team of artisans, craftspeople, and seamstresses who worked tirelessly to bring my designs to life. They are the unsung heroes of the costume department, and without their expertise and dedication, none of this would have been possible. I'd also like to thank my lovely husband, Theodore. Although he was unable to attend tonight, my designs would've been woefully uninventive without his constant support and late-night cups of tea. Additionally, I must thank my seventeen-year-old daughter, Chloe, who is…somewhere in this room! She has always been an endless source of creativity to me, and an invaluable second opinion."

The centre ceiling spotlight rotated towards the audience, searching the rows for me. I froze. Uh oh.

"Hey, a shoutout!" Luke chuckled.

"…There, back left!" Mom called out, pointing.

Instantly, I was almost blinded by the spotlight. My cheeks burned. I sank into my seat, feeling hundreds of pairs of eyes on me. Luke, contrastingly, sat up and waved to the stage.

Mom waved back. "There she is! Oh, and there's Lucas beside her! Dean's nephew! How sweet."

I cringed, wishing I could just disappear. Fortunately, the attention didn't last long, and I was spared from the spotlight's wrath.

"If anyone is curious, Chloe is wearing the Alice dress from my new 'Celestial' collection, which is now available for purchase. Anyhow, lastly, I want to thank you, the audience, for coming out. Without your support and enthusiasm, we wouldn't have a reason to celebrate tonight. I hope that the themes and messages in this film will move and inspire you in the same way that they have moved and inspired me. Thank you, and enjoy the rest of the party!" The auditorium was filled with another thunderous round of applause.

"I guess you're famous now," Luke said with a laugh. "Not one for much attention, huh? You're blushing pretty hard."

"You'd think I'd be used to it by now," I grumbled, pressing my palms into my cheeks. I was too mortified to even look at him.

He must've sensed this, as he quickly changed the topic. "Do you know why that dress is named Alice? Seems to me like it's more of a…star dress."

I smoothed out the skirt and explained, "My mom sort of designed it with me in mind. My middle name is Alice."

"That's cool. Chloe Alice Harlington…" He sounded out each syllable thoughtfully, squinting. Something about hearing my full name in his voice made my stomach do a somersault. "It's kind of a fancy name."

I snorted amusedly. "For a non-fancy girl."

He crossed his arms. "Hey, my middle name is Grant. At least yours can't be found in the dictionary."

"Oh, but that's a good one! It suits you," I insisted.

He smirked. "Not like I can change it... But, thanks."

At this point, the auditorium was swarming with guests as everybody was trying to move into the adjacent room. Luke glanced around, then stood up.

"Okay, non-fancy girl, what do you say we go get a bite and take some more photos?" he suggested, holding out his hand.

Towering above my seated form, with piercing eyes and a captivating grin, he made for an arresting sight. All of a sudden, as if a rug had been dragged out from underneath me, I found it difficult to ignore his appeal. With the soft theatre lighting casting shadows perfectly across his features, a small part of me wanted nothing more than to photograph that picturesque scene. This is… This is weird. As my head swam, I felt a seizing inside of my ribs; the same one I'd ignored many times before. But Luke was becoming too hard to ignore. I was no stranger to that feeling. I'd had to keep telling myself he wasn't my type, or we were better off as friends, or that I was too busy, too confused, too different. To my disbelief, I now found myself denying those same notions. The curtains lifted. I was going against my own heart.

Luke's voice yanked me back down to Earth, "I just don't want to lose you in the crowds…"

I blinked forcefully. His grin was now gone, his previously outstretched hand drifting awkwardly toward his pocket.

Damn it, he thinks that I think holding his hand is weird. "Right! Sorry. Of course," I said, placing my hand in his. Although it wasn't the first time, the contact still sent a jolt up my arm. "We should get started, then," I added, feeling unlike myself.

His cute, crooked smile returned. "On it."

He led me back to the lounge, slowly but surely, navigating around other guests, cameras, drinks, and balloons. I walked behind him as we carved a path. Soon enough, we were past the bottleneck, and everyone spread out like normal. After grabbing a snack, I retrieved my camera from its satchel.

By the time the night ended, I doubted there was an inch of that room that I hadn't photographed. It was a perfect event to capture plenty of eye-catching shots. I even took some pictures of the guests, candid or not. Luke was being pretty thoughtful as I moved around and would sometimes suggest new subjects or angles. I'd be lying if I said I didn't snap a few photos of him as we went along. He was totally fine with it, and would even pose comically with random, inanimate objects. He was incredible at making me laugh, as well as making my heart turn to jelly. I never knew on any given day which one it'd be.

Lucas Grant Ottinger…

You are my newest paradox.