CALLIE

‘There you go.’

Simple words, a simple gesture, the glass of wine placed between them. Kemper reached out to take the glass, and had to take care not to squeeze too hard and shatter it in his hand. They’d done this before, a hundred times, emptied bottles over complaints about the work day, her father, his mother, the neighbor who insisted on mowing their lawn at ungodly hours of the morning. Everything was familiar, from the fall of her hair to the curl of her fingers around the bottle. But this wasn’t home, this was a new place, a new life, one Kemper had started without her. She’d come on her own, though, bringing her soft voice and gentle smile, and Kemper knew there was nothing in him that could resent her presence. He just didn’t know why, why would she come all this way?

The shorthand version of his name sent a warm wave of affection through him, hearing it in her voice making it hard to believe for a split second that anything between them had changed, that they weren’t the same two people they’d been back then, battened down in the safety of their apartment from the outside world of storms.

He lifted the glass to drink, hoping the small sip would give him time to formulate a good answer. It wasn’t enough, and though he started speaking soon after he took a moment’s pause partway through.

“I’ve been-”-Turning into a werewolf on the full moons, sprouting teeth and claws, yellow eyes and thick fur and you wouldn’t recognize me anymore, but I’d be able to track you, to hunt you. -Sleeping with a vampire with black eyes and ivory fangs and she’s killed people and I know it but I can’t bring myself to care when my name sounds sweet as sugar from her dangerous mouth. “Good.” He decided, after swallowing back the other thoughts that had come rushing forth. Kemper ignored the fantastic, and picked the mundane out of his new life, finding that dulling the shine made this new life that he’d come to love sound boring.

“I’ve got a steady job, bartending, if you can believe that.” He said with a laugh, offering up a grin from behind the rim of the wine glass. “My father would have a heart attack if he knew. Maybe you should tell him.” Harsh words, but there was no venom in them. Kemper’s parents seemed so far away from him now, a part that could be so easily forgotten. Callie had been the only good thing in Chicago, the only thing worth casting his mind back for, and now she was here, and Kemper didn’t see any point in reminding himself that anything existed outside the magical barriers of Opulence.

“I’ve got my own place,” He said, a little softer, because there’d been nothing wrong with their place together, their refuge from the burdens they’d been weighted with. “I’ve made friends.” God, was this all she’d come for? To make sure he wasn’t living on the streets somewhere, starving and cold?

His old cell phone was in a box in the small closet of his Opulence apartment, collecting dust. He’d shut it off not far outside of Chicago, when it had occurred to him how easy it would be to track him if he kept using it. He’d considered turning it back on in the weeks after he’d left, before his last visit to Chicago, but nothing had been worth the risk, not even Callie’s tear-streaked face on the news, though it had been a closer thing in that moment than ever before.

“I’m okay, Cal.” He said, trying to reassure her, as though she were the one who’d left him and not the other way around.

“You’ve got a friendlier boss as well. At least he doesn’t take you for granted.” The bar was set really low when it came to the kind of treatment he could get at work considering his past experience, according to Callie. She had seen firsthand how he had been constantly groomed to take over the lawfirm and she wouldn't wish that on anyone. At least Nicky didn’t seem like the kind of boss to give his employees an hour lecture if either got an order wrong after a long day. That was why she matched his cheeky grin when he mentioned his father. Chances were that whenever he wasn’t cursing his son’s name and blaming him for his own mistakes, he was trying to smooth his rancor with the help of whiskey. If only Kemper knew she had thought he was a pole dancer when she first walked into Supernaturals. That would’ve granted the man who preferred shirts buttoned up all the way more than a heart attack for sure. 

The brunette listened to him and nodded softly, noticing how despite how little he was sharing about his new life, the sense of freedom and content was visible on his expression. His last words brought a genuine answer from her. “I’m happy for you, Kemper. I really am. I’ve heard the beaches and woods here are wonderful, too.” She said, thin fingers moving over the glass’ base. It was in that moment that the blindfold fell from her eyes. Who had she become that she no longer deserved his unconditional trust with all matters? What hadn’t she done to be there in whatever way he could’ve needed to make him stay? She didn’t want to force the answers out of him - that had always been his parents’ strategy not hers. She had always given him his space and time to do as he pleased as long as he kept in mind she was there no matter what. But now that didn’t seem to be enough and Callie felt powerless, waiting for him to speak words that seemed like they’d never reach her ears to pacify her. She raised her glass and took two long sips of the burgundy alcohol before she covered her mouth with the back of her hand. If she had learned anything in med school that could be applied right now was that a stitch in time saves nine.

Her breath was ripped from her lungs but it was his eyes that winded her like a punch to the stomach. Those darts - usually sharp yet still full of tenderness. She felt drawn into the icy blueness that generated a feeling like she was being pulled into a lake of frozen emotions. “I’m sorry, darling. I can’t do this. Ignorance may be bliss but not for me.” She mumbled and walked past the counter toward the little living room that consisted of a couch and coffee table by the window, not noticing how that familiar term of endearment fell from her lips with such nature. She could no longer face him, suddenly not being able to put up with their little reunion. She needed to catch her breath for a moment and knowing this one time she couldn’t count on him to calm the flood that was threatening to reach her eyes only increased its flow. She remained in silence staring at the fogged windows behind the sheer curtains as a hand went to rest behind her neck. Everything around them continued to function properly, the wind continued to make some leaves dance and the cars’ headlights moved down the street.

After a moment of doing her best to put herself back together and look collected, she slowly began pacing back and forth trying to find the words to address the situation. “Listen, Kemp. When I was fifteen...” She trailed off for a second and swallowed hard. “When I had just turned fifteen and became the witness of my brother’s death...I was silenced. Over and over again. His death wasn’t the outcome of settling old scores as my father claimed.” She admitted, a confession that probably wouldn’t take him by surprise. He knew her father almost as much as she did despite how different he had always behaved around him. In his own way, he appreciated Kemper as much as he had once loved his own son. “But I was told nothing of this existed, that it was all in my twisted head. That I needed to grow up, that I needed to understand evil people with evil intentions existed in this world and that those rose tinted glasses could only get me so far.” She frowned, knowing how that lack of empathy had shaped her into the woman she was now. “Still, with a bag filled with insecurities and distressing flashbacks, you welcomed me. And you were there to make me feel like I didn’t belong in a madhouse when all I’d heard was the exact opposite: either shape up or ship out. You’d heard those words as much as I did and maybe that was the reason why without questioning any of it, you were there.” Her voice cracked with emotion and only then did she lift her eyes from the wooden floor to take his presence in again. “All those times when I thought I was losing my fucking mind, you were there. You protected me from them. And myself.” She managed to slightly curve her lips into a thankful and nostalgic smile. He never belittled her in any way. Not even when had gone through a stage of needing to double check every single window and door to make sure they were locked after thinking she had spotted a familiar shadow on her way home. “Now I know Opulence exists. Please, I need you to be here, stop me from going insane and come clean with me one last time so I can protect you, too. I need you to be safe, Kemp.” She begged him because her defences were just paper thin.  He could get under her armour any time and this time wasn’t the exception. 

“If my guess is wrong, If I’m out of my mind already, I’ll be gone by tomorrow morning. I can guarantee you that.” She reassured him as she removed her boots and stepped on the couch to grab and take down from the shelf above it the folder that contained the files that belonged to the hunter she had been seeing. Once she took hold of it, she sat on her heels on the floor by the coffee table and started flipping through the pages. “I’ll let you be for once and for all. I’ll go back to Chicago and not speak a word to your parents about this, I promise...” She went quiet again when a shaky hand landed on the page with his photo and personal information that ranged from a detailed description of his background, connections and physical appearance to the mention of his presumed pack and whereabouts. She knew all the first part was unsettling true but the second one was something that hadn’t made sense until she arrived in Opulence. “But I need you to be honest with me, please. Is this true, Kemp?” She questioned with teary eyes in what sounded like an almost inaudible whisper as she pulled the paper up for him to take and read whenever he was ready. “I could never hurt you, I would never ever dare to hurt you. You know that, right? I’m on your side, Kemper. I always was, I’ll always will. Through everything, I meant it and I mean it.” The tip of her nose and the delicate skin around her eyes had adopted a pink tone while her chin trembled as she was trying so hard to suppress crying. She knew crying would only make it worse, maybe make him think she pitied that new side of his life he may have been hiding from her.

Jamie had, in recent days, grown quite used to finding people on his porch, waiting for him. This though, was no petite blonde vampire looking for a snack, or hulking Turkish witch here to seduce him. She wasn’t one of his regulars either, and normally Jamie would have kept a distance, called his greeting from the walk, but the steely skies that had been threatening him all morning had finally broken open, and Jamie wasn’t planning on getting soaked through.

He hurried up to the door, hands buried deep in the pockets of his jacket, shoulders hunched against the wind blowing in the storm. The rain hadn’t begun in earnest, so when Jamie turned to the young woman occupying his porch he still looked relatively put together, his gaze faintly curious as he took her in. He was used to a certain sense of nervousness from the people who came to see him, people who were worried their spouses were cheating, that their business partners were double-crossing them, that they’d never find love. Or they were nervous that Jamie would be able to see through them, to know their motivations were less than pure. This girl, though, something in her posture and the tension in her shoulders belied a fear deeper than those he most often saw.

“No,” He started, easily enough. He’d been in a good enough mood lately that he was tempted to joke with her, but kept himself reigned in for the moment, instead drawing his keys out of his coat pocket and reaching for the door to unlock it and push it open. “I am Jameson Collins.”

He snuck a small, sideways glance to try to catch her reaction, curious as to who she was, here with no idea it seemed, of who he actually was. “I take it you don’t have an appointment?”

For some reason, the picture of this acclaimed witch she had created in her mind didn’t quite match the real version standing in front on her. She had expected to find a shorter man with crusty skin falling off in flakes the size of almond slices and eyes narrowed to a squint so close that it would’ve impossible to tell their colour. This younger witch, however, didn’t seem to need much more than a smile of his to cast a spell of temptation and imprudence to eyes that dared look his way. “Right, of course that’s you.” She mumbled, nodding embarrassingly as she brought her hands inside her pockets again and adjusted the jacket around her body. Her eyes swiftly moved from his silhouette to what little had been revealed now that the door was opened but being that nosey felt wrong so she looked back at the almost empty sidewalk and caught sight of only one passerby across the street. Was it too late to turn around and leave? She needed to remember what was at stake and how she had already interrupted the witch’s routine.

Jamie’s question snapped her out it and she shook her head. His phone number had been part of the information she had gathered but there was something about needing to meet him in person that calling him beforehand wouldn’t have been enough. Even though she considered herself good with verbal communication, lately her whole demeanour seemed to communicate more than she knew. “I do not, I’m sorry.”  She said with a faint smile, titling her head to the side a bit before she spoke the next words - mostly because now she was the one trying to get his reaction as clear as possible. “I’d be more than willing to schedule one with you but I had the audacity to assume you don’t work with those when the fate of this place and many of our acquaintances might be in your hands and mine. Maybe our own fate, too.” Her gaze remained on him, maybe trying to communicate the same emotions that colored her voice tone. She assumed that maybe this wasn’t the first time hearing something like that. Maybe lunatics who claimed to have traveled to the future or felt like they had the duty to save that world knocked on his door more often than never. “You could throw those cards for me if it’s necessary...may see if I’ll go down in Opulence’s history as the human who could’ve tried to prevent a catastrophe with your help if she hadn’t gotten lost in formalities and bureaucracy.” She tried to joked meaning no harm, nor intending to underestimate his work though her smile didn’t quite meet her eyes. She was afraid of him dismissing her for speaking nonsense, that much was evident. 

Even though Callie still remembered the many reasons why she had the right to be distrustful and guarded - one of them being the one article she had read about some witches deciding ages ago that humans were no good for anything but firewood - his cheerful and friendly presence proved her recent research wrong. That didn’t change the fact he was a stranger in her life. But he wasn’t just another stranger among others. No doubt that was the reason why he was the first person ever since she had arrived that could listen to her share her real concerns without beating around the bush. “I don’t intend to come across as self-conceited or rude, Mr. Collins. But I’m a bit desperate, to say the least. And unfortunately, I’m afraid you’re my first and only choice. Our work fields may differ but I think we both can agree on the fact that an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.” She continued to speak, trying to sound even more convincing. 

Perhaps warning Kemper about the danger on the horizon should’ve been enough, but Callie couldn’t sit back and let everything unfold before her eyes without trying to contribute her little grain of sand. Maybe getting more involve could be counterproductive but that hadn’t stopped her from spending the whole morning at the local library trying to understand that city’s history. She had been in there for so long, trying put many pieces together that by the time she stepped outside, her mind was a clouded as the sky that advertised a storm was coming. There was one name and one address she needed to check with urgency before a more dangerous phenomenon came after Opulence’s peculiar population.

Callie was there and the neon sign allowed her to know that the address she had found on an old newspaper clipping was in fact right. Well, at least her body was leaning against the place whose owner was meant to be one of the city’s most respected witches according to what she had heard. She believed behind that door was someone more mighty than her, someone whose efforts could be more effective than her terrestrial ones. But being aware of the power he could wield was the same reason why she had been so hesitant to knock on the door. Her hands were in her jacket’s pockets as she listened to the few raindrops kiss the awning. Her mind had wandered off and brought an apprehensiveness that had visit her so many times by now whenever her chest was plagued with the feelings she had bottled up and countless thoughts she couldn’t sort. In that same moment, she wished she had picked up her father’s smoking habit to provide her with a temporary calming effect. But she had numbed that reality for so many years that she knew the only way forward was through. 

Therefore, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes tightly for a moment. “You can do it, come on. It’s not like you haven’t read Harry Potter a thousand times.” She mumbled to herself reassuringly. But that black jacket was not an invisibility cloak and when she heard the rhythmic footsteps that ceased right before her, she looked up. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to get in your way.” She apologised, stepping aside from the entrance seeing that the man seemed more determined to accept the services offered there. “You may go ahead. I'm not waiting in line. Do you come to see...” She took the folded piece of paper from her jacket and searched for the witch’s name. “Jameson Collins?” She asked, raising her eyebrow ever so slightly.

           Unable to stop herself Bella snorted a laugh when the brunette said she’d have done the same if she had Bella’s face. It wasn’t intended as mockery, falling gently back into a natural, if flattered sort of laugh, especially when it seemed like she wished to backtrack her words. “My face? You have those Cara Delevingne brows, totally worthy of constant selfies,” she responded in assurance, reaching out and running the print of her thumb across one of them, a coolness to her touch that could potentially have been attributed to how cold it was outside now that winter had set in. “I could never, my eyebrows aren’t dark enough for that bold impact,” the tips of the rest of her fingers gently grazing the other woman’s hair for a moment before her hand fell away completely.

            “Oh, it’s honestly fine, I literally drop my phone all the time, I have the insane insurance coverage designed for the clumsiest of people,” Bellamy insisted, reaching to take back the phone from her, not bothered by the cracked screen. She could have it fixed within the day and if it did end up costing, well Bella would feel bad making the other woman pay when it had been Bella’s mix of clumsiness and self interest that had actually damaged it. “Really don’t worry about it,” she continued to assure.

           Bellamy realised, only when the woman’s eyes seemed to drift to the necklace hanging at Bella’s cleavage, that perhaps the offer wasn’t actually about paying but about exchanging contact information. Taking a purposeful breath in to rise her chest, happy to be admired, only for the brunette’s eyes to lift, speaking of the necklace itself. Bella’s fingers drew up to touch it, a silver band around her wrist as well. “Thanks, I got it as an early Christmas gift from my friend,” she shared, and god, Brooks would tease her about it relentlessly later that she still wasn’t saying ‘boyfriend.’ Kemper wasn’t her boyfriend…yet. The ‘yet’ a looming thought in her head because she had to imagine that ‘yet’ would be sooner rather than later with everything going on but she was still cautious. So much had gone wrong for her with men that year. Maybe it was why Bella was focused on feeding, and on what feeding from someone usually entailed. It reminded her that Kemper was not her boyfriend, to flirt and to entice for the sake of feeding.

           “You should stay with me though, help me not walk into anything else, I’d enjoy that over getting the screen fixed,” Bellamy stated.

There was a light to this woman that was mesmerising. Callie almost suggested she could’ve played Tinkerbell in a live version of the popular story but now that magic seemed to be nothing that surrounded them more than she knew, it didn’t feel like bringing her naive comparisons. However, the blonde seemed to take situations that would’ve driven any other mortal insane with a pinch of salt, almost as if she had roamed those streets enough years to know what was important and what wasn’t, which were real reasons to be sad and which weren’t. “Oh, these? Sometimes they’re way more expressive than they should. We’ve been trying to reach an agreement.” Callie said and slightly opened her mouth when the blonde brushed her finger across her eyebrow. It was colder than she would’ve expected but she assumed that maybe it was the result of combining that beautiful corset with the city’s brutal winter. Though then she remember how important it had been to notice those details when meeting Nicky and how he had spoken about dark circles. Her make up was so flawless that her attention was drawn back to the man that had just crossed her mind. Maybe his advice could’ve come handy but right there she focused on the last bits of their interaction instead: a potential dinner could take place in the future and she wasn’t ready for it yet in many ways - showing up in something that wouldn’t remind her of the life that wasn’t hers in many aspects back in Chicago was one. 

“A Christmas gift? Well, you must be one special friend.” She said after considering the information Bella had given her about the necklace. It surely hadn’t been a choice made and purchased carelessly. She didn’t know much about jewellery but she had once worn an engagement ring that had more symbolic meaning than the piece itself could express. 

When she suggested they kept shopping together, the brunette curved her lips into a friendly smile and nodded. “Sure, I’m Callie. Pleasure to meet you.” She introduced herself, adjusting the strap of the tote bag that hung from her shoulder. “Maybe you could help me, too. If it’s not too much to ask, of course. But what little I packed leaves much to be desired and I’m having dinner with someone.” She frowned slightly in a pensive manner, moving her gaze to the racks with fascinating fabrics. “My closet so far consists of lab coats, suits and dresses that were chic thousand of years ago when the dress codes were as obsolete as the ones of some events I used to attend.” She admitted, shaking her head slightly at how her under wear was probably the only thrilling section of her wardrobe. “He’s observant and laid back, in a good way. Maybe something that doesn’t scream you might as well be going out with your grandmother or last time I was asked on a date I was in high school?” She looked back at her with pleading eyes. “I may need your name for when it’s asked who my clever stylist is.”

There was really no point in trying to reign himself in or disguise his emotions. Callie knew him too well, all his tells and giveaways and even if she’d been too kind to call him on his bullshit each time, she still knew better. It would be all too obvious to her that the lighthearted greeting was less than warmly accepted. Shock Kemper could understand, the first initial look of surprise on his face, and even the smile he could understand because through everything else it was still good to see her in a way that made Kemper’s stomach twist.

She wasn’t here to fuck with his family, or hers, despite the joke she made. She could have done that by going anywhere, but she’d come here, to Opulence, to where Kemper was and that couldn’t have been a decision made lightly. He didn’t know why she was putting him off like this, unless she was trying to keep herself from becoming what Kemper felt like he was now, standing in front of her, an open wound ready for more salt. He wouldn’t have been able to blame her for wanting to protect herself, not when all he’d done in recent memory was hurt her.

There wasn’t a thing in the world that would have been able to take Kemper’s eyes off her in that moment, though his gaze did travel, taking in the familiar lines of her body. It didn’t hold the same weight as it had once before, heat and want and desire now replaced with something measuring, Kemper almost trying to take stock of her, to make sure that she was really there before him, whole and unhurt. Well, unhurt by something other than him, of course.

He winced at the mention of a broken heart now repaired, though he knew guilt was what he deserved. His lips parted at her mention of a bite, sure that he’d misheard, that he was understanding, but her next words almost rocked him back like a physical blow, and he snapped his mouth shut again. There was a tension to his jaw that would no doubt be obvious, Kemper holding back a frustration that the new wolf inside him threatened to turn to anger. He felt like she was teasing him, dancing around the heart of the matter without sinking in and just telling him what she meant, what she knew, what she wanted.

“Yeah,” It was just as much exhale as agreement, Kemper not even conscious of the breath he’d been holding as he’d been watching her there, framed in that unfamiliar doorway and talking to him like he hadn’t taken their whole life together and thrown it away.

“Please.” Another short answer at the offer of wine, and it was now that Kemper could set his gaze free, letting it wander over the interior, searching for familiarity within the new space, signs of things that would read as ‘Callie’ no matter where they were. Just the act of being inside seemed to dull the sharp edge of fear that had been pressed to his throat before, the threat faded by the closed door, the darkness of the night held at bay by the warmth of the kitchen lighting.

Her words brought him back, and the memories were there for him, too, and he found himself for the first time that night, able to echo her grin.

“Then we should finish the bottle.” He said, although he doubted at this point cheap wine could sting worse than the betrayal of running away, abandoning the life that had been so carefully planned out for him, all the money and time and effort spent trying to carve him into the perfect son now gone to waste, but he certainly didn’t mind the idea of another misdeed to throw in the face of his parents.

“She won’t,” Kemper agreed, and in an attempt to make himself look more casual he settled folded arms onto the counter, gaze gone askance as he remembered the weekend in question. “You would have gotten a dry-cleaning bill at the reading of her will.”

His mother had been furious, and Kemper recalled how she’d spoken about Callie after. Despite all the high praise before, all the talk of her good upbringing, the appropriate choices she made and her respectable family she’d dared to be human in front of them, and it had been an inexcusable offense. Kemper had been sure then that he could only continue to suffer life under his parent’s rule if Callie was by his side, no one else would do.

Callie had been taught to exist passively under her brother’s shadow, wait to be seen and chosen by the man the fairy godmother - or father - would hand her over, in order to be rewarded. She had been told she couldn’t have made it to the big parties without the stainless reputation of the men in her family because she belonged in a dark old dusty cellar feeling guilty for her mother’s death. She had been naive enough to believe turning a pumpkin into a golden carriage, mice into horses, a rat into a coachman and lizards into footmen wouldn’t come with any consequence in the long run. How was she meant to know that the fantasy that lived in her mind would turn out to be a nightmare and not a fairy tale? For her own sanity, she had no choice but holding onto those moments were most things had felt real and right between them. But she was still paying the price for the spell that had made the prince run away in a heartbeat after midnight, when the white gown she was meant to wear down the altar began suffocating her and it turned into guilt for letting both of their families down by not fixing their engagement. She had been walking barefoot on the broken pieces of the delicate pair of glass slippers ever since. Yet, she was there. Whether his parents had pressured him into proposing to her or not didn’t matter. Without all the glitz and money, she was there still choosing to protect him despite all the reasons she had been given by both, their families and the hunter, to either forget him or make him pay for the heartache. And in no way she expected her unconditional love to make him feel like he owed her the same. Or that he was guilty and he had let her down. She was starting to gain control over her own life too, noticing which things had been imposed to her and which had been pursued willingly. This was her choice, making sure he wouldn’t get hurt was her choice and she could understand how perhaps not wanting her around could be his. But she knew better than asking those questions, those she hadn’t asked when he returned to apologize, when it scared her to the bone how unhesitatingly she’d still choose him like this over the life they had left back in Chicago.

Maybe learning Kemper’s life was in danger wasn’t the only reason she left. Maybe she had learned she couldn’t blame him for trying to run away from a reality that could make anyone feel powerless, like they had no say in even the most personal matters of life. She felt that now looking at her father’s messages on her phone’s lock screen as she poured him a glass: she had promised him she was going to return to her place in a suit behind a desk once she graduated. Yet there she was after her first day at the hospital that promised to teach her a lot about the creatures that were thought to be a product of a traumatic experience. It seemed like she wouldn’t be home for New Year’s eve either. How could she even call that place home when the only person who made those family gatherings bearable wouldn’t have a place next to her at the table this year? How would they deal with losing not one but three heirs to their law firm? The brunette couldn’t help smiling at his words about his mother and seeing his own grin brought some sort of calming relief. She couldn’t care less about those two empty places at the table, her priority was right there under the same roof as her. He seemed safe. Safer than he could’ve been under his parents’ claws. Not even dealing with his unexpected disappearance had hurt her as much as the pain of watching him put up with their antics on a daily basis. Maybe that was why she had never resented him. And she could only hope he would forgive him for bursting into his new life unannounced like this once he learned the reason of her arrival.

“There you go.” She said, looking from the glass of wine she had placed on the counter between them to the eyes that never failed to make her feel vulnerable. She recognized that look on his face: she knew he knew she was putting the truth off instead of ripping the band-aid off. But she wanted to give him a chance at bring it up on his own before she did. She didn’t want to push him away, not now that they had just erased the distance of a thousand cities and miles between them. Yet that unspoken truth about how much each knew the things that made this one city so special managed to create a glass wall of uneasiness between them. They could see right through it, see the other struggling in its own head and the cold seemed to be harder to bear on their own at each side of that wall. But bringing it down offered zero guarantees. And right there, without speaking more, maybe they could pretend they were the same people they had once been. Maybe the illusion was still alive there. Maybe they needed each other’s warmth, the one that had helped them navigate worse scenarios before. But this time it seemed harder, they weren’t used to this and the rules had changed. Their connection to read each other so easily beyond the facades had been vital in their relationship. Callie thought that not having anticipated his escape meant their connection had worn off but meeting his eyes again she knew that wasn’t the case. It was as strong as it had ever been. Both seemed to know that only swimming together they could get to the other side but neither dared remind the other that they were on the same team. They had always been and hopefully they’d always be.

“How are you, Kemp? How have you been?” She held his gaze and asked in a tone that back in Chicago had always been reserved for their conversations in hopes he noticed she was still the same person who perceived his pain as her own. It was so quiet and reached so deep within her to voice her genuine concerns that it had never taken parts in interactions back at home, where whoever spoke the loudest had the right to speak on behalf of the others. She had stopped herself from texting that same question uncountable times - chances were he had changed his phone number after how many threatening messages his parents shamelessly said to have sent his way. In fact, the one time she texted his old number had been because of them. She had insisted on the absurdity of it all and how they were only pushing him further away but they had enough reasons to believe she was either covering him up or had been in touch with him through a new number. Therefore, they suggested - more like demanded - she reached out, assuming he wouldn’t be able to ignore her even if they believed he was successfully avoiding them. Even though they had dictated her the entire text, she made sure to add too many dots and everything in one paragraph just in case it reached him for real and he could see something was off. Only when they had given up, stopped waiting for an answer and handed her back the phone after hours of silence did she send another text apologizing and reassuring him everything was fine. She didn’t expect him to reply, either. But just like now, she needed him to know all of that manipulation was unlike her - just like when she had been crying in front of cameras upon the news of his disappearance. Sometimes, trying to be on the same page as their parents so they wouldn’t turn their backs on her was a struggle. From day one, she had wanted to make them let go of him despite her being the one who should’ve had the right to hold onto their memories hopelessly.

“We have yet to see eye to eye on the whole dancing matter. I never saw the free fall coming last time I was swept off my feet. But it got me here. I landed in Opulence, right? Maybe it’s all about trusting again. Even if that includes being suspended in the air with zero guarantees.”

@nickymatheson

“My time spent with Kemper wasn’t a waste, but rather a gift. The truth is we only get to experience real love for the first time only once and I could never regret him being the one for me at the time. He was my lighthouse and got me through years I wouldn’t trade for the world only because he was part of them. At a young age he taught me how men can be good, what a healthy relationship can look like and how I deserve to be treated. We were younger and I can think of a thousand others ways I could’ve wasted years of my youth hadn’t we made the best of them by learning together and keeping each other company. I don’t believe that only relationships which scoot you down the road to “happily ever after ever” are worthwhile. All of them serve a purpose. Maybe the lesson is simply accepting that sometimes relationships run their course, or that the timing or chemistry wasn’t right, and it’s no one’s fault. Whatever the case, yes, heartbreak stings to the core. Sometimes love doesn’t work out. But it’s never a waste when you know you’ve given your best.”

@k-harding

“Unfortunately, my chance at knowing as many wines in the repertoire as possible wasn’t a success. Don’t get me wrong, the tasting was great. But by the fourth sip they all tasted the same. Though given by how tricky the cobblestones were on our way back, we knew that at least we hadn’t been given water with red food coloring. It’s still a world I need to study a bit more but I’d say Rosé for lunch. Malbec and Syrah for dinner. Drinking good wine with good food in good company never disappoints.”

If Benjamin were to pinpoint where today went downhill it honestly probably started at home, he hadn’t really rested, ended up running behind and rushing so he hadn’t eaten before work. A hungry Benjamin was definitely a snappy Benjamin. Things didn’t get much better at work, dealing with a few small instances and asshole clients. One man in particular that Ben asked to leave refused, he took pleasure in showing him the exit after that. It seemed like anything and everything that could go wrong went wrong which is why Ben found himself out that night, drinking. It wasn’t that he was a stranger to drinking but he usually didn’t do it public, preferring to keep his image of mister cool calm and collected. He felt out of place in the club and turned to leave when he felt someone knock into his chest, a protective arm shot out to catch whoever it was and help them at easy their balance, “I’m so sorry. Hope you didn’t spill your drink.”

The only glimmer of light was neon vibrant colors that matched along to the loud thumping music and inviting atmosphere that roamed in the darkly club. If Callie hadn’t known Kemper worked at Supernaturals, maybe it’d been her first choice. She had told Nicky she’d return to see the real magic take place there among the crowd but she didn’t seem ready to find her ex fiancé in that place just yet. Callie knew better than ordering a key to the momentary world of oblivion to the one person she's always so determined to erase from her mind during nights like this one. “Would you like another?” She heard the bartender’s voice, like magic to her ears, causing her to snap back into reality as there was a brief nod. She needed to start off aggressive, rather than with weaker drinks that would take a longer amount of time to work its effect. Normally, she’d work her way up, but she usually wasn’t trying to drink herself blind of someone. In circumstances like this one, she was prone to scraping the bottom of the barrel for a quick thrill. When the bartender came back with the second shot of tequila, she made the decision to sit on the empty stool given how long of a night this was going to be. And somehow, she ended up engaging in a conversation with someone who insisted on buying her a third shot right before brushing back a strand of her wavy hair over her neck and making a comment on favorite desserts. And it sank in, right there. The one joke she had told Nicky after he denied being a vampire. Being vulnerable to the lure of alcohol to relieve stress in order to deal with everything had been tempting but she wasn’t ready to accept more consequences of that kind. Not when the last time a little party to get over an unforgettable past had led to engaging in more than just conversation with the person that wanted more than half of that city gone. If a little party in Chicago had put her in the palm of a hunter’s hand, she wondered what sort of target she was in an unknown city where humans seemed to be the weakest and complementing someone’s jugular veins was normal. Was this what that hunter had tried to say about the dangers of those creatures to the rest of the world? There was a side to her that took great pleasure in being ahead and in control of the unexpected and in that situation, it was slowly turning her into a paranoid person.

The brunette grabbed the shot with a hand and stood from the seat but she found herself bumping right into someone in her abrupt attempt at finding an emergency exit. And for a moment, it was him. For a moment she braced herself to hit the floor but, to her surprise, she was held into place by a face that in her haunted mind was no other than him. “Kemper?” She asked taken aback and slowly held up her free hand before needing to shut her eyes and shake her head in order to make sure that the the drinks she had weren’t causing a bad reaction, leading her mind to screw around with her, like a bad hallucination. And it surely was. That’s what she understood when his voice sounded nothing like the one of the deceiving image her eyes had created for a moment. He was just as handsome but it wasn’t him. “Hm, I-no, sorry. It’s alright. It’s good. I thought you...hm, sorry. My bad.” She apologized slightly abashed, taking a step back. “Looks like superheroes exist here, too. Like you, right? Saving ordinary people from tripping and having a concussion?” She asked with a lopsided friendly smile, at this point not really knowing herself if the question had a tone of humor or she was being honest about no longer knowing what was fiction and what wasn’t. “Five days working at the ER is already enough. So thank you. Or maybe you’re like the white rabbit in wonderland, please tell me you know the way out to find some fresh air. Or the mad hatter, I wouldn’t mind the tea party.” Maybe her father had a point when he made sure she understood no creatures existed outside of those books - no rabbits that could speak or silhouettes that could kill her brother. Nicky had been kind enough to point some differences between vampires and werewolves. Bella had delivered gifts to her doorstep and tried to make her feel at home. But how was she meant to tell things apart when Opulence existed and so far she had received no book with instructions for newcomers like her? Callie frowned and curved her lips into another apologetic smile, knowing that she was one of the many things that weren’t making sense there. “No, I’m sorry. I want to..” She shook her head again, aware that an unfiltered truth almost tripped off the tongue. He could be a nice company but she needed t know better than that. “I don’t want to hold you back. You look as if you have the fate of the world resting upon your shoulders and you may not want to share your burdens with a stranger. At least, let me try help you relieve them with this. It’s yours, you won it.” She held out the tequila shot, offering it to him. Either everyone in Opulence had an incredibly higher level of alcohol tolerance or she had gotten so used to plain wine that those other beverages were a long forgotten rollercoaster of sensations she was now starting to remember. She was more than done after two shots of tequila. That much was clear.

          At first he thought perhaps this girl was a one night stand of Kemper’s gone awry when she asked ‘vampire’ in disbelief. Sad to think Kemper had potentially not made his intentions clear to someone he would only see for an evening, surprising since Nicky didn’t imagine he was doing that, but he hadn’t asked in a while about how he was going. When she let out an ‘oh’ though Nicky wasn’t sure. Did she actually know what the boy was doing or was she simply trying not to allow Nicky to feel poorly for her?

           As he walked out the back with her Nicky chuckled, pushing the door to the backroom open. It was filled with vanities covered in make-up and various other items that were used to give off a certain look. Glitters and hair spray and extensions, it was a complete mess back there really. Even more so because a few of the dancers were getting ready, speaking with one another, or partners who had come in, some were changing and stretching, while others were applying the make-up messily on the vanities. “Me? A vampire? No, no, no, I wouldn’t have these dark circles if I was a vampire,” his index finger drew down the skin beneath his eye. Certainly he looked weary and walked with an exhaustion he shouldn’t have even had as a wolf.

          “I’m a werewolf, if it matters. I go by Nicky though, Nicholas Matheson from here. Well not here,” he said, gesturing to the back of the club as he found a vanity he knew wouldn’t be being used. “But Opulence.” It was likely somewhat shocking, since most people hadn’t originated in the city, but many had, his parents had grown up there too. Which drew him to the ultimate connection he found… 

            “Kemper’s from Chicago too though,” he realised aloud as he drew out the chair at the vanity for Callie to sit. “You’re his sister?” She didn’t look a lot like Kemper but families weren’t as traditionally created as his own.

In his facial expression was a tiredness, a need for nurture and a chance to rest as he taught her vampires didn’t need concealer. Unexpectedly, when he mentioned he was a werewolf instead, she showed no sign of surprise or confusion this time. “I thought I was being easily persuaded to become a dancer and then your dessert and so far I would’ve put up less resistance to the second one. Have you ever wished you were a vampire, other than right now?” She suggested teasingly with a slight shrug as she followed him to the back of the club. Maybe she was learning not to judge a cover by its book, in this case, whoever she met by their species. Even though at first she had wanted that question answered above any other, now it didn’t seem to matter nearly as much. Whether he was a vampire or werewolf didn’t seem that relevant. He was introducing himself as Nicholas Matheson and he couldn’t possible be entirely defined by commonplace knowledge. Not being a human didn’t make him any less perceptive. Or gave him no history. Unlike what she had been told by the hunter, he offered more humane treatment than most humans she knew. 

Hearing Kemper’s name and their hometown in the same sentence had her anticipating the question even before he had verbalized it. But she didn’t answer straight away. She couldn’t. She sat down and stared at herself, or at least the distorted image of herself. Maybe she wasn’t a supernatural. Maybe she didn’t have much to hide beneath her skin or the form in which she present herself. But maybe like all of them, her reflection was deceiving too despite her ordinariness. The mirror showed her the woman the world saw and for a moment it brought a sense of relief because it didn’t seem to give away too much. Inside her were fireworks and disturbing serenity, love and frustrations, ambition and fear. All they saw, she thought, was brown hair and the kind of eyes you forget while you're still looking at them. She knew that the first thing was one she had in common with Kemper, the second wasn’t something they shared. His gaze was still engraved in her mind, unfortunately. “Yes, I’m his sister. I mean, step sister.” It didn’t feel right. Lying didn’t feel right. But neither did speaking a truth she’d been having a hard time voicing and explaining ever since the plans of a future together slipped through her fingers. Probably because she couldn’t understand it herself - didn’t know where had everything gone wrong and how she was meant to close that chapter without erasing from her story the name of the person who had been her best friend before anything else. At times, Kemper had felt more like a brother than her actual brother. At times, it felt like the lawfirm and their progenitors' ambition came before family. Before the relationship of a father with his son, the relationship of a father with his daughter. Sometimes, it felt like the two men were better off without the rest of them. But still, Kemper and Callie had been expected to fulfil expectations and make them proud. How couldn’t she let her mind think of more colorful scenarios in a place where the mirrors opened eyes to less old-fashioned universes?

For a fraction of a second the corners of Callie’s mouth twitch downwards, until her conscious mind asserted control again. Now that the spotlight was on her, she needed to divert the topic. Otherwise, she knew she wouldn’t be able to sustain the lie for too long. “It must’ve been great growing up here, feeling safe among those like you, right?” She asked, she couldn’t help wondering how different could’ve Kemper’s childhood and upbringing been had he lived in Opulence his whole life. Whatever he was, whatever the reason of his arrival was, the city seemed to offer a freedom that Chicago lacked. But the question tackled a reason behind her arrival too - had this place always been a secure place for all of them? Had they been living in a paradise separated from the destructive nature of her people? She moved to the edge of the chair and leaned forward to let her fingers investigate the different textures and take in the radiant colors of the dancers’ tools. Callie always felt like there was a key piece to her childhood she had never experienced and maybe it would’ve made the years that were to come easier on her. She had never had the chance to try on her mother’s high heels to walk in as a kid, explore her jewellery collection  or watch her do her make up from the bathroom’s door frame. Most her mother’s belongings were sold after her death though her grandmother had stored in two boxes those items that were her mother’s favorites and to her father’s disgrace, she had wrapped them in a sparkly gold paper and placed them under the Christmas tree a year before they moved to Chicago. “Do you have any siblings? Are they or your parents werewolves, too?” She asked, looking back up at him just to make sure he knew she was still paying attention despite the elements in front of her that had her hypnotized like a kid with a brand new toy.

            Without actually asking Nicky reached beneath the bar once more, this time grabbing two glasses, scooping ice up into each of them and pouring water inside, eyes flicking between the glasses and the girl with her sharp features softened by…well he couldn’t quite tell. For the strictness of her brows, the slender shape of her nose, even how pointed her chin was, she didn’t read at all like the features controlled her expressions. But maybe Nicky just had rose coloured glasses for people who shared their experiences so freely. 

           He chuckled at her joke, placing the water before her, “I could have one of the girls show you, if you like.” Keeping his own glass he had a sip. “Then you’ll just need to keep hoping for more, so they can stay above where you can climb.” She was looking at him though still, staring and Nicky couldn’t tell why, just that he was rather enjoying the focus. It was hard to keep enjoying when she called herself a charity case however. “Will you come with me for a few minutes out the back? There are other staff there,” he offered so she wasn’t concerned about going somewhere with just him.

           He pulled out a pen and paper that was used for taking orders, not going to try and type her information into his black and white Nokia phone he’d had since he was in high school and began taking it down. “Kemper’s always getting bothered during his shift, either by all the divorcees, bachelorette parties of the silly blonde vampire he’s attracted,” Nicky didn’t mean to sound dismissive…well, maybe a little on the last front, but if someone wanted to see him at work Nicky wouldn’t have been bothered. Still, her question that he had actually heard about his safety…well, maybe it needed to be in private. 

             Once he had the information down he realised it would be useless to give if Kemper didn’t know who it was for. “What name should I give Kemper, and the pole delivery guys?” he asked playfully in response.

As if the kind gesture of offering a charger for her phone wasn’t enough, the man placed a glass before her that she welcomed with another smile and a ‘thank you’. Why would anyone want to come to this place to hurt people like him? Under which circumstances had hunters decided to go out of their way to break their serenity? Had they not experienced their courtesy? Was he showing his true colors or was this part of his rehearsed act to fool newcomers like her? Even though the questions remained, this time she didn’t seem to mind them. She could give him and everyone else the benefit of the doubt - she knew better than expecting the worst from people even though those that had surrounded her for most of her life weren’t any better either. 

Their interaction had gone smoothly enough so far for her not to hesitate upon his request to go deeper into the building. And now she was just getting used to it - how he seemed to be a step ahead and he had put himself in her shoes for a second to consider mentioning the presence of more staff members. But her uneassiness returned the moment he spoke about the distractions Kemper often experienced at work. “Vampire?” She repeated in disbelief, perhaps still trying to wrap her head around the existence of such creatures. “Oh, vampire, right.” She nodded softly, taking a sip of the glass she had taken with her. And if Kemper was a human...was he sort of the blonde’s captive? More importantly...was Kemper a human? She didn’t dare ask. She didn’t want to hear it from anyone else. But she dared ask Nicky the same question she hoped to puck up the courage to ask Kemper someday. “I hope you don’t mind me asking...but are you one of those, too? A vampire, I mean.” Her fingers were running along the rim of the glass and her eyes moved from one staff member to the other.

Just Girltalk || Callie&Bella

        The sound of her heels echoed as she wandered through the small store, holding her phone high above her head as she kept taking pictures of herself, trying to find an angle that showed off the necklace Kemper had given her at the tree lighting the night of the carnival. The photos were obviously for him, well for her instagram too but mostly to taunt Kemper until he got off work. Things felt like they were going so well, that glee lingering in her expression while free fingers adjusted the red corset she wore within the frame.

         Of course, Bella was so focused on what she looked like in the screen that she didn’t notice when she’d started to walk into one of the displays, hip bones hitting the edge and immediately dropping her phone, first colliding with a pile of shirts on it before bouncing to the floor and knocking against the shoes of another woman browsing. No doubt the screen had cracked in the process because Bella never used a case.

        Immediately from her lips fell a laugh, Bellamy looking down at her phone. “Sorry,” she apologised to the woman. “I got caught up in my own reflection, which I should be embarrassed by but at the same time…I’ll definitely do it again so I’ll just keep to the sorry.”

@calliew​

What had Nicky meant when she asked if she wanted to change referring to her attire? That was one question she was seeking answers to today. It seemed like fashion choices had a way of making one stand out for the right or wrong reasons in that town. Callie was well aware of the fact that her days of tailor pants at the lawfirm were gone and she couldn’t continue to hide behind the lab coat she wore as a shield even outside the hospital. She wanted to know what this place had in store for those who seemed to be ahead of everyone else, even in the fashion industry. The employee of the first store she visited told her she had missed the discounts offered the weekend of the local carnival - where apparently exchanging gifts was one of the most important parts of the celebration. But she was hopeful to find something that wouldn’t be out of her league and leave her with enough choices in her wardrobe. Maybe she could find something that would make people like Nicky mistake her for a local. 

Shirts. That should be easy, she thought. How wrong she was. And by the quick glimpse she had caught of the blonde flying around the store, it seemed like plain shirts weren’t chic. But she could never possibly pull off an outfit like hers either. Those were bonus points for the confident woman whose phone landed on her shoes almost as if her unnecessary thoughts of comparison mixed with admiration had pulled her closer.  “Oh, sorry. “ She apologized and bent down to pick it up immediately. Callie heard the laugh but she was having a hard time removing the look of horror on her face upon noticing the broken screen. She looked up at the other woman and her sympathetic reason behind her distraction. “I would do the same if I had your face.” Those words left her lips even before her brain could check it twice. And then embarrassment sank in. “I mean...let me pay for that damage.” She stated, fishing into her handbag for her wallet. “That’s one pretty necklace the world needs a picture of.” And now her eyes were over the other woman’s cleavage. And she hadn’t meant that either. Callie shook her head and looked back at the phone, that was the important matter here.

It felt like his second moon all over again. The first time Kemper hadn’t known what was coming for him, had no expectations for what the rising of the full moon would bring to him. The next time the full moon rose, though, anticipation and anxiety had filled him, writhing in his guts like live, slithering things. He’d felt then, a little, like he was losing his mind.

This was no different.

It has to be a mistake, he told himself, staring at the address Nicky had texted him, the name there in stark black letters on his phone screen. Callie. Callie, here, in Opulence. He’d gotten the message from his boss (friend, mentor) and read it once, and twice, and then a third time, as though maybe he were interpreting the words wrong, as though there were a simple shift of letters that would disprove what Nicky was telling him.

He didn’t bother calling for a ride, trying to convince himself that the walk, the cold winter air, would help to brace him for the potential of what was coming. There was, in his mind, no reason for Callie to have brought herself to Opulence unless it had to do with him. The idea added a new layer of guilt to Kemper’s already tangled emotions. He knew the conversation he’d given her back in Chicago hadn’t been enough, knew that closure might always be just out of reach for her, but for her to go through all the trouble of finding him here, of all places, seemed more desperate than Kemper would have believed of her. Maybe that was on Kemper, too. Maybe he’d only convinced himself she was so strong so that he’d feel less guilty for leaving her the way he had.

As he approached the building, Kemper’s hope that this was all some terrible sort of misunderstanding bled out of him with each inhale. He could smell her, sweet citrus and something that was indescribable to him but still just so completely her. Callie wasn’t like everyone else in this town, she wouldn’t be able to sense his approach, to hear the rabbit-fast beat of his heart or the faint, anxious sweat that was making the t-shirt under his hoodie stick to his chest. Still, she’d known what she was looking here, what had brought her to Opulence and Kemper was the odd man out again, like always, scrambling two-handed for answers it seemed like everyone else had.

He pressed the doorbell, and fuck, he could hear her. The call of her voice still familiar, the rhythm of her footfalls. He shut his eyes against the sounds, but he could still picture her, the soft waves of her hair, the shifting hazel color of her eyes and the slight twist to her mouth whenever Kemper had done something that amused her. He doubted he’d see that expression on her face again any time soon. Kemper dragged his hands out of the pocket of his hoodie, tried to straighten his shoulders and hoped that he was, in at least some of the good ways, still the man she remembered. He tried to brace himself as he heard the door opening, blinked his eyes back open as it swung inward and for a moment took in the sight of her before she’d even realized who it was standing at her doorstep. 

“Cal?”

⠀

Had the door behind her back not worked as a physical support, she’d have stumbled backwards and probably lost her balance. She hadn’t expected him to receive the news of her visit from his boss until the next day. Or at least she hadn’t expected him to show up without wasting any time. Or was he working as a delivery guy, too? Bachelorette parties and this? She’d have to have a word with Nicky and his overwork policy. No, he held no cardboard box. If anything, he seemed to be struggling enough to get hold of himself as much as she was. He had showed up and it was easy for her to see how hard he was remain with his straightened shoulders and a posture she’d seen each time he had tried to live to his parents expectations. And she didn’t want him to feel like she was the one he needed to convince now. There weren’t any ulterior motives or tricks under her sleeve. She wasn’t there to throw him into a cage or throw stones at the new castles he could have built. She wasn’t there to play for his parents’ team and beg for another chance. She needed to know there were still skin and bones behind those clothes and he hadn’t been turned into a ghost. And these urges felt ancient to her, but new and exciting all the same, and she didn’t know what to do with it. So she did nothing, because her other options didn’t seem enough – hugging him wouldn’t be enough, closing the door wouldn’t be enough. She didn’t want to scare him away so even though her hands itched to reach out for him again, Callie held back and tried to turn those impulses into a welcoming smile that could put both of them at ease. He looked good, he was safe and though it’d take a bit more to see whether he was happier with his new life or not, she was happy to know he could bring herself to stand before her.

"Doctor Cal. At your service, sir.” She spoke and took her hand to her temple to offer a serious greeting that didn’t quite meet the lack of formalness in her amused tone. “I tried to see if I could outdo you.” It was a habit of hers to always try to find the silver lining. And though at first the waves of confusion and disappointed has threatened to drown her, now she understood there was no point in not taking everything lightly again. She could even praise his courage to leave everything behind in the blink of an eye. “You know, get deeper under their skin and make a bigger mess. Though they weren’t nearly as conflicted, I doubt they’d have a present for me under the tree this year.” She shrugged and leaned against the door frame to make a pause. Her eyes hadn’t leave him once ever since they had landed on him but they weren’t judgemental. She was trying to read him, understand how much it was right to give away right there and how much of what he needed to know could wait. “But I also learned to mend a broken heart and that rabies shots aren’t effective on bites caused by all wild animals.” And this was where her smile faded a little bit against her own will but the tenderness showed in her voice as she spoke the following words in a slower voice. “Had we stayed, either of us could’ve met the same fate as aunt Lori.” The brunette could still remember how she had come to know of the woman she never got to meet in person but seemed to be the one Kemper got the sense of kindness from. Because she was perfectly sure he hadn’t learned that from his own parents. A photo hidden under another one of the perfect family was the first glimpse into a past that had been swept under the rug as much as the truth behind her brother’s death. There was a stigma and burden to being different - one that put even more locks around Callie’s knowledge of supernaturals. She remembered Kemper leaning forward to have a moment with the newly found treasure, eyes with a warmth that resembled the one from the fireplace before them as he studied the picture of the woman holding the little bot. And Callie had squeezed his shoulder, stood up to give him the time he needed and headed to the kitchen to distract the rest of the guests. Only when he had been ready to share the story did she ask her questions. But mostly just listened because there was so much to be heard. The same had been done with Kemper’s pictures now. Only last week she had dropped by his parents’ house only to find every memory of him gone - almost as if their golden boy was yet another loss they had no willingness to mourn. And maybe they didn’t - he wasn’t gone. But surely they had put it on Callie to be the face of the family’s pain for his disappearance. Surely they had made her shred tears in front of cameras because they had none of their own. But she didn’t think Kemper needed to know either of that. “So thank you. I guess breaking the chains is the greatest gift I can hope for this year.” She owed him that much after everything he had done to become her true supporter - the one who helped her memorize flashcards and watched her eyes shimmer in a way they could never do under the lawfirm’s glass ceiling. Somehow, they had turned their relationship into a shelter - their place into a safe island away from the shores where their families’ white sharks awaited. She was well aware of the fact she'd have never been able to pursue a degree in such a different field if he hadn't calmed her insecurities and fueled her aspirations. And she could only hope she had given him that lifejacket in the form of whatever he needed to.

“I think it has never been so frightening to be part of mankind. I'm still trying to come to terms with the fear of being considered ordinary, ignorant or naive. I’m afraid of either of those things being the reason why someone had to leave my side. I’m afraid of never being able to empathize enough with those whose lives are extraordinary no matter how hard I try to be perceptive. I’m afraid of being out of place even though I’m not striving to be something more or comfortably tuck away in my shell like a snail. I feel like I’m attempting to assimilate into this new world even with the most mundane of activities. Ever heard about the hedgehog's dilemma? It’s about finding the balance between proximity and distance, finding warmth on a cold day without mutual harm. I want to figured out where the lines overlaps and see to what extent my curiosity can be a compass without crossing wrong lines.”

“It’ll take more than just a glass of red wine.”