worth it for the feeling.

Location: Cherry's Studio Space

"She was totally beside herself, like 'Oh, oh, I feel like I'm gonna faint. Someone catch me!' before proceeding to propel her body into Matt!" Zey was recapping the ridiculousness of this woman who inserted herself while Zeynep was in mid-conversation with the host of a New Year's Eve after-party on the Drive. With some downtime between her next meeting, Zey figured she'd pop in to see what Cherry was creating and to place a commission request on behalf of her father. "Like, babe, you can have him...we were only talking about his trip to Europe. Am I really that much of a threat?"

"Oh my god," Cherry laughed at the absurdity of it all. It sounded ridiculous but if you were the jealous type, seeing someone like Zey talking to your man would be a cause for alarm. "I mean, of course you're a threat. Look at you." Zey was stunning and anyone with eyes could see it.

"Did she commit to the bit, though? I'd have called an ambulance just to see how she'd have reacted."

"Alright, so before you ask, there's no progress on the baby front," Lemie says, hoping to get the conversation out of the way quickly and effectively and move on to something less depressing. "Will and I haven't had much luck, but... It's only a matter of time. It doesn't happen right away for everybody."

Before she'd even gotten a word out, Lemie was speaking at a breakneck speed. Which was completely out of the ordinary. "Okay.." she dragged the vowel out before taking a sip of the coffee she'd made, sliding the cup she'd made of Lemie over the counter towards her. "I'm not going to ask you if you're okay because I can tell you're not because of—" she waved a hand over Lemie's frantic energy before continuing. "But that's super common, right?" Cherry was only versed on the ways to not get pregnant. "Have you been to a doctor yet?"

Diego smiles as she guesses his costume, "fuck, yeah!" He's just happy that she didn't call him a plumber, an actual one. "I'm channeling John Leguizamo right now."

With a pointed finger fun, Cherry winked. "That's her and that song is a banger." Dust yourself and try again was a mantra that Cherry seemed to live by.

"That's like that campy old 90s movie, right? My brothers were obsessed with that movie when I was a kid. They'd love your costume." They both seemed on a similar theme, bad movies that were somehow still iconic. "I am curious though, why Luigi and not Mario?"

"Hey, Cherry, right? Nice to meet you. And hey, thanks for doing this - I know it's bold to choose a roller skating place but trust me - the nachos are legitimately the best in all of Aurora Bay, for real."

Attempting to be as much of a gentleman as he can at a spot where both the skating and the bowling patrons are wearing borrowed shoes, Beej opens the door for Cherry. It's second dates that usually get him nervous - first ones are awkward by default, so Beej doesn't feel pressure to be anything but himself on them.

"You want to stop at the bar first? I can't speak for their cocktails but they serve a mean canned Whiteclaw."

With a wide smile, she made her way over to Biju who waited dutifully out the front of the Rock'n'Bowl. "Nice to meet you too," she greeted as she stood in front of him. "Do you prefer Beej? Am I pronouncing that right?" She'd seen it written down on his profile but hadn't actually said his name aloud before.

Thanking him as he held the door open, Cherry was greeted with neon lights and a hit song from 2016. She took in her surroundings with glee before turning her attention back to her date.

"I could actually smash a Whiteclaw," she agreed, maybe something to just work off these first-date jitters. "And I hear the nachos come highly recommended, so I'm ready to feast before I roll."

"Shall we grab a booth?"

It's a strange turn of the tables, he's usually the one saying things -- some truths, some lies -- and she's usually the one not believing a word of it. That was a purgatory of his own making, previous bad behaviour had laid down a solid foundation of her distrust of just about everything he said or did.

No less than he deserved and no less frustrating either.

In his attempts to ensure that how she saw him was only how he wanted her to see him, he had overplayed his hand and now it felt like she saw too much of him.

( He doesn't like when she looks at him and he only feels like a real person when she does all at once. )

"It didn't look good."

Bo knows dancing with him couldn't have looked good either to her best friend but he hadn't thought about that when he had stolen his seat and bargained Cherry out onto the dancefloor with.

As usual, he had only been thinking of himself.

He doesn't regret asking her to dance but he does regret whatever strife it had caused to have her sat outside by herself on the verge of tears. Comforting another isn't a natural instinct he possesses and yet he feels a want to try.

If he wasn't sure it would make it worse, he would have hugged her.

An unusual feeling gnaws at him then, one he doesn't experience often. Guilt, maybe remorse, possibly both. He's not well-versed enough in either to be able to identify whether it was one or both but he dislikes how it feels.

Instead of letting it drive him away, he allows it to force him to an unfamiliar destination right next to her, where all there was to say were words so overdue and used so little in his second language they tested the limitations of his fluency.

"I'm sorry."

For the trouble he's caused her that night, for the troubles stemming from him that ruined any night of hers, for all of it.

As long as Lemie didn't witness it, Cherry supposed that was the only thing that mattered.

She appreciates him hunting her down, checking she was okay even though they both know that she's not. As much as she wanted to put on a brave face, it's just not possible. Not yet. At least she doesn't have to pretend for Bo.

"This isn't because of you," she says in defeat. "Not really." Just a few minutes ago, Cherry would have said he was her greatest defender against those who hurt her. But what happened now that he was one of them? Tough love wasn't something she necessarily believed in, but apparently her best friend had decided enough was enough.

The world already felt empty and cold without Ziggy by her side, on her team and cheering her on.

"There's truth to it, what Ziggy said. I think that's what hurts the most. I am sad." She was always falling head first into something and maybe it wasn't cute anymore. "I tried to be better. I guarded my heart, focused on other things." For a moment there, Cherry thought she was content being alone. But she wasn't.

"I just want to be loved, is that so bad?" Considering who she was asking, maybe it was.

At the question of her night, Cherry made a unconvincing sound. "In a word?" Her lips twist at the side in contemplation. "Weird. Tonight kind of has rancid vibes, don't you think? I honestly might duck out early but it took me three hours to get ready so I need to stay at least half of that."

A wave of relief washed over her as her plan shifted into motion. This was not a night for a Janet Jackson style nip slip. "You're a literal lifesaver," she cheered, a hand resting on her boobs, keeping them in place until the tape could take over. "I was thinking I should have grabbed some more to put in my purse, but alas, I've never been one to plan that far ahead." Cherry was always kind of winging it.

A hand extends and Cherry gazes upon it with well-hidden skepticism. Something sits uncomfortably in her gut, but she pushes the feeling away. "Cherisa," she introduces herself, but the name feels foreign, like she's wearing someone else's skin. "But everyone calls me Cherry," she adds as she takes Selin hand in her own. "It's nice to meet you, Selin."

"Are you having a good night?"

Her eyes had been scanning a work with adeptness, then bulged in brief, minor surprise at the young woman's arrival. "No need to apologize," Lore assured, rolling her shoulders back as she looked up. A hand motioned in front of her, "I was just getting a closer look. It caught my eye walking by."

"It's usually more..." The words escaped her to describe her studio before the break-in, it felt like she couldn't remember a time before now. Everything was beginning to blur. "It's not usually like this," she chose to say instead. "There was a break-in."