Mimi

There you were; a vision of mysique yet so familiar.

Ken had decided to watch the sidewalk near the beach; after all, his job was 'Beach' so he considered it his job in the real world too. This world was still so unfamiliar and confusing. Yet at the same time, it was all new and so exciting. Water rolled along the tan sand, stretching for miles into the distance. Lights on the sidewalk had just turned on, as evening crawled into the present. The sand was empty; prints of those who had visited earlier decorated the grains; it was still and calm. Minus one figure at the water's edge.

The orange horizon and lowering sun existed at the end of the waves at your feet, the blends of purples showcasing the incoming night. You sang with your entire heart, not minding the cold ocean; it made you feel alive. It made you feel like you had stepped into film, yet existed in the real world. Your voice was loud, maybe off-key at moments, but to anyone observing…you were happy. You were..Island Princess Barbie. Someone who existed in Barbieland as a heroine in a tale the Barbies would fondly read, and yet you were here: Spinning around, singing.

"I need to know these answers~ I need to find my way~ Seize my tomorrow, learn my yesterday."

Ken just stared as you danced around the sand, the waves rolling over your feet as you skipped. His heart- did he have one?- skipped along with it. You looked like Barbie, not any, but the tales of the love unknown. The white dress around your body, the pink flower tucked against your hair…Ken swallowed slowly.

Was this what they meant: there's a Barbie for every Ken?

This wasn't the Barbie who turned him down after the whole 'I think the patriarchy and horses are neat' incident and the almost societal collapse of Barbieland. He still had some apologies to make to Barbie about that. And to President Barbie. And to Doctor Barbie. And Journalist Barbie. And uh…well he owed a lot more, in general.

He stood still as you smiled and laughed; the horizon made you almost glow and seem like something beyond his mind's comprehension. Sure, Barbieland had songs that sounded eerily similar, but you put all of them to shame. Something inside his chest pounded, like he wanted to run along you, spinning around in the waves, stroking the shores. He was desperate to know…He needed to. Her words only served as a sign.

"Can't tell what's waiting~ Still I need to go… I need to know…"

Ken stumbled down the sand, "Wait! Barbie! Wait for me!" At that moment, you looked over your shoulder, singing before your voice trailed off from the song. You laughed, enjoying this strange yet endearing stranger. Usually, it was children calling after you, not men in black denim with fringes and a cowboy hat running on the sand. You offered a friendly smile regardless, stopping and halting your walk and turning toward the individual who tripped and luckily didn't fall. You couldn't imagine how uncomfortable that outfit would be if sand got in.

Ken stopped a few feet away from you, ignoring the waves rolling over his shoes, and just stared. "Hi." He said to you, waving. You smiled, a corner of your mouth quirking up as you offered a wave back. You giggled as you saw him physically swoon.

"Where have you been? I thought… and now you're here. How did you get here? The same way?"

"By a car..?"

"Sublime!" Ken said, causing you to burst out laughing again. His reactions were so over-the-top, it felt like a dramatic scene and you were suddenly in it with a very expressive actor. "Right. Hi. I'm Ken."

"Just Ken?" You asked, prompting for a last name. He just stared, the smile stuck on his face, which caused you to laugh again. Ken couldn't stop at you; the sunset almost faded behind you gave you a glow that wasn't like what he saw before. The gentle breeze knocked hair strands out of place on your head, and yet he never wanted to spend a day looking away. An Island Princess and a guy with the job Beach? He swore it was more fated than anything else.

"Has anyone told you that you are absolutely sublime, like stunningly so?" Ken said. You reached up and wrapped a strand of hair around a finger. You've gotten a fair share of compliments, but to be told them so forwardly? It felt nice. "I didn't think I'd see a princess here! On the beach!"

"You're being very sweet, Ken." You said before, laughing again as he clutched his chest, bending over. He was acting like his world was imploding, and it warmed your heart. "I hate to cut our conversation short, but unfortunately I do need to leave."

You smiled softly as his delighted expression dropped, showing how much he wanted to continue talking. He stuck out his arm, looking away and whispering disbelief as you gently took it. This was the best day of his life, next to every day he will be getting with you, which will all tie for best day ever.

"You know I never think I told you my name," Ken said, causing you to cough a laugh into your hand. "It's Ken." You nodded in return, doing your best not to laugh anymore. This was probably one of your favorite interactions in a long time, and you had that one girl crying into you in San Diego that one weekend.

You waved at him as you got into a pink car, decorated with stickers on the back windows. Ken couldn't exactly make out what they were, but he simply smiled and waved, watching your car head into the city to end up somewhere. He confidently went to walk away before he stopped, "…Did I get a way to reach them? God, you're stupid, Ken! You acted just like Ken!"

You slowly reached up the back of your head once you got into your apartment, locking the door behind you. As you peeled off the wig you had been wearing, your phone slowly played music that you started to hum along with. You carefully placed the wig on the stand in the bathroom before removing the costume, hanging it on the hanger, and putting it back in the closet among the various other costumes you'd made over the years.

You grabbed a makeup wipe and slowly started to remove all of the products you had on your face. You looked in the mirror, washing your face to prevent breakouts and the dry skin that came with makeup removal. You smiled softly to yourself, thinking of the weird guy who talked to you like you were actually Barbie. It was a wonderful compliment; he must've liked your cosplay a lot. "You really thought I looked like Ro, huh…" You said.

Maybe…you'll run into him again wearing something new.

Award ceemony dinners served two purposes: to let one network with others in the same career of making entertainment, and to allow one to scope an actor who just finished a film to potentially get on the radar of a director. Jody had just finished her second film, and it was a hit. Many actors were waiting for the next chance for their agents to sweep in and pass along their interest.

For you..it served as a moment to make a move. Film gave you parts with all sorts of people. But you..craved something else from one director specifically.

Colt and Jody had ended up as friends, with Colt as her plus one. Where was he? She wasn't sure, as he answered a phone call as they went to head in. He was likely talking to Dan about stunts for her next movie or for another film altogether. Hell, it might even be his younger twin talking about the secret project he's working on. No way Jody would interrupt that precious time.

The room had a decent crowd; fancy dresses and suits made everyone look like fashion statements. The wilder the outfit, the more directors wanted that infamous individual in their scene. Some people stopped by to say hello, discussed projects, and introduced other connections, but Jody had this weird feeling. It was like someone was watching her, but among the crowd, she couldn't tell who. Someone close to Gail? Someone who thought she was displaying favoritism by having Colt as the stuntman for two films?

"Sorry, that took longer than expected," Colt said, tucking his phone into his pocket and appearing. "Have you made any connections? Found anyone who we should avoid working with for our entire lives?"

"Agent came over and expressed his actress is interested in possible making something with me in the future. And I have a few people who have taken my business cards and even some who have also just broken into the career who wanted some advice on any lessons that helped."

"You're a smart and talented woman. No wonder you've inspired people, you'll have little Jodys who credit you as their heroes when they pick up cameras. It's inevitable you've inspired and caught the eyes of others here." Colt said, walking over to a table and picking up two champagne glasses.

He offered a smile, and held on glass out to Jody. She offered a small smile, as Colt winked. He was always there to support her, no matter if romance existed or not; and that was something she would always be greatful for. She was about to grab it when the sound of a lever sounded like it was thrown.

You bit your manicured nail, your smile lifting up on one side. Gregory, your agent, was way too willing and tired to entertain your ideas.

The lights suddenly went out as the power went out. Jody blinked to try and adjust, but the room was so dark, with very limited windows. "Well..this is fun." Colt said, trying to lighten the mood as the event was pointless until the lights were fixed or the event was cancelled. "As much as I love stumbling and rambling in the dark, I usually prefer being able to see people I'm talking to."

Seconds later, she felt soft hands grab her shoulders as lips touched hers. It tasted like wax, and there was a hint of breath that smelled like peppermint. Her hands slowly reached up to grab the face of whoever was kissing her. She felt the lips leave your for a moment before she sensed them moving. Jody exhaled, shakingly feeling hot breath on her ear.

"You know…I'd do a lot more than kissing if we had the time. I think we could both enjoy a little one-on-one time." You whispered before biting the skin right under her jaw, then pulling back to press against her mouth. Jody grabbed your face, sliding her hands to tangle in your hair, ruining the style your hairdresser worked so hard on hours ago.

A little kiss in the dark…every director needed some wild moment in their career. Jody was sure this was the tamer of the scandals, plus…you tastes faintly like cherry, smell like expensive vanilla and know how to kiss good. Colt was 2 feet away, not noticing the second hair of heels. The lack of lights hid everything from view, the bunching of fabric and wandering hands, the back and forth of who was leading. In the end, you let Jody and you not have a gap for space between your bodies, curves slotted together like a puzzle.

If you were the person dying in the desert, she was the oasis you stumbled upon, having been searching for so long. And if there was more time…you'd love to see how she'd command you to do more.

Suddenly, you pulled away, as Jody tried to reignite another round of kiss. Your heels started to fade as you ran away, disappearing into the room of darkness. "Wait!" Jody said, panting, trying to collect herself after all of it. Within seconds, the lights were flickered back on. Colt spat his drink back into the glass he had originally gotten for Jody , before smirking and bursting out in laughter.

Pink lipstick stained all over her lips, mixing with the faint red she has chosen, and the pink trailed all up and down her jaw, standing out against her skin. She touched her lips, swollen from all of the kissing, and immediately grabbed the nearest napkins, using her phone a cup of water to try to remove the lipstick all over.

"So-"

"Don't Colt." Jody said, with annoyance.

"But was it-"

"Colt." Jody hissed, blush flooding her cheeks. Colt started laughing again, as she excused herself to the bathroom, trying to fix her hair. She was using her hands in front of the mirror to brush it out before attempting to fix it. When the lights at come back on, no one nearby was in the same state of disarray. You had vanished from view and sight, running off like a lady who only came out when she wanted to.

The bathroom opened and you stepped in. Your mouth was a smudged mess of red and pink mixed together, your hair was tossed and throw over to all stick up on side. Your neck had faint red marks, and your lips were glistening.

"Director Moreno." You whispered.

"Actress L/N." Jody replied, slowly setting down her clutch. Slowly, you reached behind you and locked the door.

Everyone who needed the woman's room could wait, you had a director to…..talk privately to.

Courtland Gentry wasn't a lucky man. He didn't stumble upon gold or keep everyone close to him perfectly safe. He had lived in the shadows since 2003. Memories from his past always haunted his present.

Courtland could remember the day he met you; it was a recess- was he six or seven? He can't recall now. The ground was wet from the night's rain, and you were trying to climb a tree in the school yard, the edge of your flower-printed skirt soaked with water and mud, your yellow sneakers stained tan by the mud as they tried to find balance on the old wooden fence to pull yourself up to the tree branch.

He didn't do much…until he shakily held out his hands. Not enough to push you up, but enough to give you a little more so you could reach the branch with your other leg and not fall. Latched together, he did his best to help you get onto the branch. When you smiled down at him, freckles and moles dotted all over your face as the gap between your teeth broke up your off-white smile; all he saw was that you were simply…happy.

Like nothing ever hurt you, and he couldn't help but softly smile back, even if it was the smallest thing he could muster up.

His memory recalls you in the back of that courtroom, sitting with his brothers and mother. Court wondered what you thought of him that day: a monster? The classmate who sat two desks over and who hated Mr. Smith's geometry class too? A good brother to the twins who deserve nothing but the best? Did you cry when they said he died, or did you not even know?

Court, now Sierra Six, was set up in an open apartment window, gun butt pressed to his shoulder, sight focused on a woman in a suit at a table, sipping a latte. What she did or who she was wasn't his concern; his task was set: Assassinate. Live in the gray until the day he's no longer there. Fitzroy and Cahill had already laid out the next task for him. Someone hiding out in an old European town who needed to go off to that farm upstate for safety's sake.

When Court sat on the train, watching the environment roll by like a screen, seeing the world and never getting to enjoy it. The cart was mostly empty, all of the weapons in place at his destination, the bag under his feet having a few more tricks if things went sideways. Disappearing and reappearing into cities and towns; like the dream you never remembered until too late, but always forgot when you woke up.

He turned slightly when someone stopped by his row, the floral skirt and hair tied up in a messy bun painting the past against his modern life. Creases at the corner of her eyes and in her forehead; and yet those eyes looked at him like they caught a ghost on tape. Before Court could even turn away, you took the seat by him. That same smile took over the bottom half of your face. The train whistle blew when you first tried to talk, washing out the words.

"Court?" You said, offering a smile as you ran your eyes over the man closed off in his seat. "Do..you remember me?" You felt your heart lighter than ever. Was this a trick on your mind? Did all of the paint in your studio finally mess with your memory? Or…did miracles like this truly happen once in a while?

"You've got me confused for someone else." Courtland lied.

"Oh come on, I would recognize you anywhere, no matter how long—"

"I said, I'm not Court." He said, turning back to the window. "…It's Six."

You hummed and slowly nodded, "….Guess you just look like him." You recalled the time between then and now; maybe he settled down, ended up rich, or failed to get early parole. "…He was a good guy. Or is, I don't know. His brothers held a funeral, but I never knew or attended, so…to me he's still out there."

All you hoped was a sign you weren't holding onto a trick.

Courtland flickered his eyes over. As the train rolled over the tracks, you chatted his ear off. The moment flashed between years left behind and the brush of their legs in the worn seats of the present. When the train arrived at a destination, you stood up and reached up to grab the bag you had thrown above the seats. Court's hand reached past yours and lifted the bag, which you accepted graciously.

You walked down the hallway of the train before stepping off of the train into the small station. As the train drifted by, his eyes followed you as the train moved on.

With the destination in mind, he focused on what was in front of him. Staying undetected, existing in the gray world. The target was eliminated silently, effectively, and quickly. There was nothing following immediately, but that brief rest would soon be taken up by another task. Off he would go and disappear; reappearing somewhere warm or somewhere cold.

Courtland thought of you for a moment; just a moment. Would you want him appearing and disappearing into your life, a secret you'd never get to repeat? To become like a magician's disappearing act?

The small book was filled with strokes of pencil, sketching an old collapsing church, as the mocha cooled in its cup. You stared absentmindedly at it, drawing lines and faintly shading shadows as the small cafe remained quiet yet not dead empty. The door opened, ringing the small bell on the frame. Footsteps walked to the counter, words exchanged, cash on the counter, and a rough hand grabbed a coffee placed down.

The owner of the footsteps walked over to your table. Slowly, you looked up and smiled.

"Is this seat taken?" Court asked, to which you happily shook your head, gesturing the seat to him, and he sat down, setting his drink down on the table.

Maybe it wouldn't be bad to have this quiet place to slip away to.

You smoothed over the picnic blanket again, fiddling with the matching silverware and plates. The wicker basket sat in the corner, filled with carefully cut sandwiches and sliced vegetables as sides. Everything had to be perfect; it needed to be. Everyone chased after Will's heart as he chased his promises and dreams. You chased after him too, but after so long…you've become a background, turning to find him surrounded by those whose hearts could give him more than what you think you can.

You loved him enough to step back if this made him happy. So in your mind, this was your goodbye; a final private meal in the sunset before graduation. If Will ever went to the Tower, you'd probably spend forever looking over your shoulder for him. Something about him felt like a captivating tale that one could never stop reading.

You loved him.

You shook your head and cleared your mind of the fear of never amounting to anything in his world. Today…you had him coming to a picnic, where you'd watch the stars and find where you could carve your path into the world. A figure over on the sidewalk waved excitedly, his glasses never hiding his eyes.

"HEY! Sorry for being a little late, Wignall needed my help with something."

"I see." You could see Rosti taunting you in your mind; he was a cheeky bastard when he wanted to be, as you'd seen when he messed with Colette. But Wignal? He terrified you for no other reason than vibes. Maybe Rosti can save you a spot in the ground for when you inevitably have to fight that elf to get even five minutes of Will's attention. "It just means we'll see the stars sooner."

You both sat down on the blanket, your legs brushing against each other as if they needed the contact to exist. Will was thankful for the food and launched into a ramble about something he had learned in a class. For him to never smother that drive; it was something you'd always wish for.

"Do you think you'll make it into the tower?" Will quietly asked, his eyes staring at the hues of evening painting the horizon before the cover of darkness and its millions of stars appeared. You knew why he asked; how could you not? You knew how many credits he had.

But it made your heart feel light, with the sick guilt of being glad about it. You didn't have enough to make the Upper Academy, but there was some kind of relief in knowing you'd at least have Will by your side.

"Not enough to reach the Tower. Only 7,198 credits for me. I never was the best in anything aside from Spellwork." You said, looking up at the sky.

"Yeah….." Will said, slowly leaning his head against yours. You leaned against his head. By now, the stars were spread out against the darkness. The small lantern slowly died out, leaving you both together in the shadows, enjoying the company.

You flickered your eyes over to him; tell him you love him, and you'll always support him. Win him over.

Will sat up, the contact of his head against yours leaving you feeling the cold starting to settle in. Slowly, he started helping to organize and pick up. You took it as the time to end the night.

"I should probably get back. I'll see you tomorrow." Will smiled before walking off, Kiki appearing from behind a tree to walk alongside him. You held the basket handle in your hands and watched as his form faded out of view.

Was it selfish to want him all to yourself? Maybe it was…but he was slipping through your fingers. Would there be any space for you in the world he strived to be in?

You know he'd hold out his hand to you if you needed it, but why did you feel so guilty if you took it? Will was once in a lifetime. Maybe…

You slowly started to smile. Maybe you could find some other way to get you both into the Tower. It might not be the way he hoped, but you can't let him slip away. You started to run back, clutching the basket to your chest. If life was telling you that you and he weren't academy-bound, you'd run to find a place where that dream could come true.

Graduation started smoothly, and slowly the announcement of those all Upper Academy bound was made. You watched as everyone who loved Will walked up there without him. Slowly, you snaked your hand to entangle with his. You'd have his back while they all moved on.

But then it happened.

Suddenly, Will was standing up there, as you stood among those who didn't. This..wasn't what was supposed to happen.

The floor felt like it opened under you and swallowed you up. As everyone clapped and shared tears of joy, the tears on your face. Will sent a bright smile your way, and you felt your heart stop.

He looked so happy, and a smile wedged itself onto your face. How could you have wished for his attention so selfishly?

He looked the best when he was making his dreams come true.

When it ended, you hugged him tightly. Will hugged back, his cheek against yours. If he could hear the beat of your heart or the confession on your tongue, he did not address it.

"Wish me luck, Y/N," Will whispered, squeezing you tighter. "I'll miss you while there. Promise you'll write me?"

"Will…" You pulled back, feeling that desire to be wanted and loved screaming his name. "I'll never stop missing you; I'll write a million letters."

"That's a lot, but I'll do my best to answer every single one."

"Will…you're going to do great things, even if I don't get to be beside you." You said before Will leaned close to your ear.

"I'll only do my best if I know you're supporting me," Will said, smiling. Staring into his eyes after he pulled away, you leaned in slightly.

You could at least be selfish about wanting this.

Colt invited Ryland out to lunch; nothing too serious, but he did notice his brother's change in texting habits and even the small signs of exhaustion that started to appear on his form. The cafe was pretty quiet, Ryland having already gotten a table, nursing a triple espresso to hopefully wipe the need for a long rest from his soul. You weren't invited; this was strictly a lunch between brothers despite how much your company was always welcomed.

You had become a rock in Ryland's life and by extension, Colt's. You were a bright flower in the garden he stumbled into; you found his aspirations and hobbies entertaining. Ryland adored every part of you, but there was one small quirk that he could still barely handle.

Colt sat down across from Ryland. "Glad you came to meet me. Was worried you'd be too busy to do anything. It's hard to get a handle on you lately."

"Don't remind me. Finals on top of yearly reviews and…" Ryland trailed off at the end. "So why did you invite me out here?"

Colt narrowed his eyes and sipped his drink before setting it down. "Ryland, you look like you've been run ragged."

"Is it that noticeable?"

"Very," Colt said, nodding before gesturing with both his hands. "What is it that's gotten you so tired? Is grading really grinding your gears this hard?" Ryland rubbed his face with one hand, trying to muster up the words for what he was about to admit.

"You know..the love of my life, right?" Colt nodded, to which Ryland covered his face with both hands. "She's got me drained."

"….Like emotionally?"

Ryland shook his head, embarrassed, and lowered his hands, his face tinged with red. "You could say…physically."

Colt took a second before bursting out laughing, causing Ryland to glare and whisper-yell at him to shut up. He wiped his eyes and started to attempt to calm down.

Ryland Grace was saying, in blunt terms, that he was getting way more sex than he knew what to do with. That…was probably the funniest thing Ryland could've said, and Colt's laughed at a lot of things he said. Poor guy lives every fantasy. Ryland really was living such a tough, tough life….

"Let me…get this straight." Colt said, failing to wipe the smile off his face, "You are exhausted… because you are getting laid too much. By your hot girlfriend. What an amazing problem to have."

"Colt, you don't understand. I am physically drained. I love her and the intimacy to pieces, but my god I can not cum anymore than I have in the past two weeks." Ryland said, exasperated. "Living room, Bedroom, Bathroom—"

"Those are pretty typical places, Ryland."

"—The Hallway, garage, the car, the kitchen, the backyard, the backseat of the car at the mall, a public restroom in a busy bar, my home office; literally anywhere she can run her hands over me."

"….Ryland.."

"I didn't even know about half these positions: London Bridge, Good Ex, Butter Churner, there was this one pose where I didn't even know I could bend that way, the—"

"Ryland, please stop." Colt interrupted before exhaling. He put his hands palms together before pointing at your brother, "I would kill to live your life."

Ryland choked on his drink, coughing. He patted his chest as Colt continued.

"You get laid, anytime, any day, anyway? If you can't handle it, I'm so down to swap places." Colt said before he snapped his mouth shut when Ryland's eyes slowly widened at the proposition.

Colt just offered to fuck you, his nympho girlfriend who had him shooting blanks from the frequency. The allure of a break…was tempting. His eyes flickered to the text message from you that had popped up; only expressing curiosity at when Ryland would be home. But he knew what that meant: You opening the door in thin red lingerie, pulling him by his tie and using the same fabric to tie his hands up.

And he'd let you every time; he could never deny you such a simple request, no matter how long you wanted to go. Ryland slowly nodded, trying to hide the growing smirk.

Colt can cover this session.

"You think you can handle it?" Ryland said, "Have you even gotten laid this year; this may be too much for your inexperienced life." Colt sat there in shock. There is no way Ryland just called him inexperienced. He can so handle a couple rounds with a frisky lady in his place.

"Fuck you, get up. We're swapping clothes in the bathroom. I'll show you what I can handle. Sex won't be anything; I'll even tire her out!" Colt spat, falling for Ryland's setup. Ryland immedately started booking himself a spa trip; he was not answering when he called for help. He also made notes to bring his grading along so he can work on it between.

You glanced at the clock before going back to resting your chin in your palm. The black lingerie wrapped around you under a sheer robe. You had given yourself smoky eyes, had everything in the bedroom within reach; all you needed was your beloved other half. When the knob turned, you slid over. 'Ryland' stepped inside, his eyes rising above the glasses. You smirked before slinking up. Your arms wrapped around his neck, nails scratching at his scalp.

'Ryland' started to melt as soft kisses pressed to his throat, as you slowly beckoned him to the stairs upstairs, his eyes devouring your skin and the way the clothing gave away all the curves you'd gotten.

"Come upstairs, love~" You said, dropping the robe to the ground and tugging him by the tie. "I need something only you can give me." The coat was thrown to the ground, and shoes were taken off as you were playfully chased up the stairs and into the bedroom. Once the door shut, you dragged him down on top of you.

Colt, masquerading as 'Ryland', threw every other layer to the ground, immedately pressing kisses to your neck.

You smiled and reached for a leather strap just out of his view…

The following morning's rays leaked through the curtains, painting the trail of clothing up the stairs with a golden hue. The house remained still on the first floor, like a scene frozen. Up the stairs was another story. Colt slowly blinked as he gathered any strength to crawl into the hallway from the bedroom. Red claw lines marked up his back, hickies all over his neck and collar, littering down his stomach and all over his hips and thighs.

Red rub marks existed around his wrists and ankles, and he's pretty sure his jaw is still sore from how many times he ended up eating you out. Any belief in his stamina was gone; he was probably not even capable of popping another erection.

Colt shakily exhaled, "I owe Ryland such an apology for making fun of him for this." He froze, hearing your heels tap against the floor, walking around his spot on the floor.

"Oh baby…" You cooed, "I'm not tired yet, and I just got a new toy in, and it'll drive both of us wild…"

"L-Listen..I'd love to, but there's nothing in me anymore. As hot… as…you are…I don't think I can keep up." Colt swallowed, glancing up at you. Your hair was a mess, and you had marks all over your chest and neck; thighs had the indents of hands that spent all night holding on. "Look, I'm not—"

"I know exactly who you are, Colt. You and your brother don't exactly feel the same inside." You hummed squating down and poking his nose. "Now…one more round for me……?" You whispered, lifting his chin, so his lips brushed with yours.

Fuck…no wonder Ryland was drained.

Ryland sat at a library desk, glasses sitting on the edge of his nose, various papers and books scattered around him as he crumbled up another paper of work and threw it into the trash can by his feet, dangerously close to overflowing. Worn sweater buttoned up, coffee with an extra espresso shot that's gone cold, sneakers on their last leg, eye bags dark enough to warrant light concealer to avoid looking like a bruise, and a pen between his lips twirling on repeat.

Ryland was a burnt-out college student, one who had willingly decided to enroll in the school's doctorate program after sliding through his bachelor's with his roommate turned housemate turned best friend's constant presence. Although you said you also chose a route of higher education, you were only going for a Master's. You weren't that crazy about an additional 6 years just to be called 'Dr'., you figured that suffering was enough of a turn-off.

The chair across from Ryland was turned around so the back was against the table, as you sat down. He looked up from where he was restarting the same hypothesis he seemed to get stuck on for this research project, despite the lack of evidence within the suggested established fields of science. You rested your arms on the back of the chair, straddling it. "I was wondering where my sweater went; I couldn't find it in the dryer or the closet." You smiled, as Ryland lifted his gaze from his paper to meet your eyes.

"I was cold and couldn't find my red one. It's like the house is the only warm place on campus."

"It's in the wash; you spilled coffee on it yesterday." You said, picking up one of the packets of previous thesis papers that the university allowed all students to have access to. "The study of the molecular biology of…not even gonna try and pronounce that word. You've been throwing out every idea that comes to that handsome mind. Nothing catching your attention?"

Ryland leaned back, removing his glasses and rubbing his face. "It's like…everything feels like it's not worth chasing. So far, all I've figured out and decided is evolution."

"And…what within evolution…would you be curious about?"

"Exactly how long a grad student can go without a topic before he evolves into a maniac." Ryland sighed, sipping a sip from his coffee before his nose scrunched up, tasting cold bean water mixed with sugar. "I've spent all morning trying to figure out which direction to go, and all I've learned…is nothing."

You reached over and slowly adjusted his glasses to sit further back on the bridge of his nose. "I think you need a break. Maybe inspiration will hit when you least expect it. Just listen to your boy; when have I been wrong?"

"Thinking Exit 124 would get us home faster when we visited your parents for winter break last year."

"Ahaha….very funny, Ry." You forced a laugh as he rolled his eyes and slowly started to stack the files he had taken over the desk. "Give me some; no way your bag will fit them all."

You grabbed a few and slid them into your bag, as well as a textbook, before slinging a strap over your shoulder and standing up. Ryland threw out his coffee in another trash can that wasn't full of paper as you both exited the library, heading to the parking lot. Ryland didn't own a car, but you owned some beat-up 4-wheel drive car you bought off a girl in undergrad, and now it served as the default ride for the two of you.

"How was your class? I'm sure the Image processing course has been fun." Ryland said, elbowing you, which caused you to elbow him back. "It could be useful if you end up in a lab with me. We already work in the same laboratory; let's just work as shift partners."

"I've learned one thing: never work with your husband. So if I do, kiss marriage goodbye."

Ryland rolled his eyes. "I think we would be fantastic partners; maybe we'll discover some unknown stuff and go down in history."

"Oh, like you and that ego need more praise on top of your GPA." You said, unlocking the car and handing your bag to Ryland. He proceeded to toss the bags in the backseat before climbing into the passenger seat. You had climbed in and started the engine, the radio playing a CD Ryland had burned to 'make all rides enjoyable,' featuring songs you often moaned and groaned about.

You put the car in drive and started the cruise home. The brief ride home was smooth, music picking up the silence between casual conversation. You flickered your eyes over to Ryland's profile, the curve of his lips, the bump of his nose, the way his eyes reflected the trees along the road as the wheels pulled you close to home.

Your home, a rented one, but one filled with collected objects, a queen bed in the largest room to 'save money on buying two mattresses', and an office decorated with science. The couch had light indentations from years of being shoulder to shoulder since colliding on the stairs and tumbling down them. As the car rolled into the gravel drive, an orange tabby lazily meowed in the window, paws scratching at the glass for his fathers' affection. Ryland pulled the keys out of his pocket, grabbing a bag, yours, without looking.

You grabbed his and followed him to the door. After you both stepped in, the orange car purred aggressively against both your legs, happy his family had come to alleviate him from the constant loneliness. Plato, which Ryland fought to name, meowed repeatedly as you scratched his head; he coated the edge of your dark sweats with orange hair.

A calendar on the wall had three weeks away circled in red with 'TATTOO APPT' in scribbled letters, the sink was empty with stacked cleaned dishes in the rack by it, and the fridge had several pictures of the two of them, only of a shared moment of intimacy at their undergrad graduation. No need to shout things at the world or at everyone on their phone; they were comfortable and happy in the life they're chilling in.

"Whose cooking tonight?"

"I think you are, Ry."

"That's… do we want me to try after I melted a pot making Mac and Cheese?" Ryland said, waving at the multicolored fish in the tank on the counter. "Did you feed the fish?"

"I'm appalled you think I'd let our fish children starve. I'm taking them in the divorce." You said, opening the fridge to grab a drink, before gently pulling Plato off the shelf he immediately climbed into. Ryland stared with an open mouth before pointing at you.

"OVER MY DEAD BODY YOU WILL TAKE AWAY MY KIDS!" One look at each other, and you started laughing. Ryland walked over, his lips briefly pressing against yours before he rounded the corner to the bathroom. You smiled softly before rolling your sleeves up to cook; no need to bother your pretty boy when he was so stressed about his PhD topic.

You and Ryland were too busy arguing over which brand of Mac to make once he came out of the bathroom, the sweater abandoned to showcase the tight white shirt and tan slacks, with the washer running quietly in the background. On the table, Ryland's phone silently flashed the flashlight alert as he set up to not miss texts or calls, with a missed call from a contact.

Missed call from Colt Seavers

The movie set was incredible; a plot about a group of men searching for a huge cache of gold hidden after the extermination of a group of local population while running from the government's attempt to steal the money before them. It's likely to be a classic, another badge on Jody's belt. Her first breakout film Metalstorm had set off a fire no one could stop. Colt and Jody had rekindled, hoping that desire burned like a hellfire, or…like a stuntman set on fire; whichever was brighter.

But not every fire had enough kindling to last long, and although the love had been passionate, Colt and Jody settled. Friends, who dated for two years officially before they ended and kept things civil. Jody always requested Colt as a stunt double in her works, and Colt never turned down a single role.

You were the head of pyrotechnics, or at least the assistant to the crazy lady setting it all off. When you started working, you took extra care setting ablaze every scene; and such a fire…enticed Colt, who felt his heart explode into flames like the Notre Dame. (You haaaad to be there for that travesty, even my mom cried.)

The film morning was slow, everyone aching from the previous day where one character crashed a car off a cliff into the water which then lead to the main character asking while treading water if the group up on the cliff if they thought the car would still work if it was pulled out, only for it to immediately explode. It was a perfect shot, as Jody put it. This next scene was supposedly to take place at midday so that meant the morning was full of checks and set-up.

You double checked, even triple checked every wire and timer. You made sure every safety was engaged and even checked for any change caused by environmental factors. You took it seriously; safety protocol was so ingrained you didn't even use the checklist anymore. Some safety measures were overkill, but between injuring someone and creating a masterpiece; there was very little wiggle room for failure.

"If it isn't my favorite fire starter," Colt said walking up. "You know someone might suspect you of being in love with the equipment with how gingerly you touch it." Any bruises from previous stunts were perfectly hidden by makeup, a Miami fire jacket thrown over a casual grey shirt and some black trousers thrown on as the comfy outfit before dressed up in a carbon copy fit of what the main character was wearing.

"No matter how insane it may be, I refuse to risk even missing a potential issue with the equipment. Not risking my friends or anyone's safety for a pretty seen; Jody can understand."

"Oh yeah? Well as a certain someone who spends a lot of stunts with your handy-work, it's very nice to know you're doing all these checks. I'd rather not get a pyrotechnic to the stomach. Or face. And weirdly not to my ankle again, that was a unbelievable experience of pain you don't think you would think to have."

"You never walk normally the rest of that film shooting." You replied, smiling at him to which Colt rolled his eyes. "Ready for me and the team to set the scene on fire?"

Colt took a few steps closer, leaning on the table you had been keeping the equipment on before moving it, now leaving the table covered in carefully arranged chaos of instructional steps for various effects. "You know I'd always let you make me hot."

"Very funny, Colt. Isn't Jody expecting you with Dan to go over some of today's stunts and the timeline?"

"Sending me away already? And here I thought you'd jump at the chance for highly stimulating conversation."

"You're overstimulating, Colt. A firecracker."

"Let me guess…" He lifted his hand and pointed at you, the corner of his mouth twitching up. "You wanna say I got a short fuse as a punch line."

"I was going to say; known to go up in flames and cause a lot of property damage on a bad day, but that works too." You replied, laughing as he fawned a shot to the heart, sliding off the table.

His heart swooned and soared at every moment you gave him; he was so glad he begged Jody to do everything to get you back in reach. It always helped to have your ex-girlfriend turned wingwoman assist in the process. Last time he tried to win someone alone? Yeah… there was a whole movie about that disaster. Jody still enjoys pulling the 18-month no-contact card.

You grabbed your notebook, which was stuffed with all the pyrotechnics and fires you would be involved in. Colt fell into step beside you, his eyes flicking over every now and then as you both joined the massive group coming together for Jody's meeting.

"Alright, today we're running the scene where they sneak into an inn and purposely set it on fire after finding out someone murdered the innkeeper, who turns out not to be dead in the end. Are my actors ready?" Jody said.

The actors were all in costume and nodded before she moved her pen along the list, checking off medical and support staff. "Next..Is the stunt crew and pyrotechnics ready to burn the house to the ground?"

Colt leaned slightly over to your ear, "Promise to hold back the flames of your love to not toast me?"

You rolled your eyes and gave him a playful snarl, "When I wanna set something on fire, I'd always gonna burn. As long as you do what you're good at, I'll keep sparking what's needed"

"That's hot. Like literally. Not that you're hot. I mean you are, but not in the pyromania way; most of the time." Colt started to fumble the words as Jody crossed out a line at the bottom of the checklist she was using.

Tactic #1: Colt calls her attractive and doesn't retract it.

"Thanks..?" You replied, flattered but now concerned he saw you as a pyromaniac who enjoyed fires way too much. Colt could feel Jody giving him a look after that attempt to strike the pins and then the immediate gutterball that followed. She had her work cut out; this man was down bad.

"Alright..Let's go set up everyone. Colt, walk with me for a second?" Jody said before whisper-yelling at him as they walked.

You tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, sighing. The air was cool, and the crowd dispersed. You checked your phone before jogging toward the pyrotechnic base with all of the detonators.

Colt exhaled as he got in position; at least he didn't have to worry about Tom Ryder-Gail's murder plot to deal with. "Let's just get this party started."

The camera started rolling for the take.

"Is he located?" A speaker crackled to life in a truck parked off to the side. Someone reached over and grabbed a walkie, holding it to his mouth.

"I know my boy a mile away…and this is one dead ringer." He let go of the walkie. "Not a bad cover, Six."

She is glorious.

Hair of midnight blue and piercing eyes that tore past your defenses like an arrow. Those green eyes stood out against glass skin that almost seemed holy; untouched by man-made sin…and ruin.

Like the clouds themself had dragged an angel down to guide those to Valhalla. Just to grab her outstretched hand would have been enough to satisfy your desire to breathe her air.

Brunhilde stared at the selected humans for the Ragnarok, her eyes focused as her fingers swiped to see who to match up for this first battle. You were a minor god who defected the moment Brundhilde even opened her mouth: call it hopeless pining, but seeing the corner of her mouth turning up just a little was enough to drag you by the heart. You glanced around as the room remained empty; others had dispersed for a moment.

"I think this is the one to start off the tournament," Brunhilde said, tapping the screen before turning to you. "This is important; it sets the pace for humanity's survival. Don't you agree?"

"Of course," You exhaled, causing her to turn back to the screen. You wanted to reach out, the pads of your fingers trembling, desperate to reach out and hold onto her hand as she carved the fate of humanity into existence. You loved her, in passion and in her stoic deposition. She held you in her hand, and you didn't care what she asked of you; you'd give her everything.

"Brunhilde?"

"What?"

"Do…What will you do when this is all over? When we've won, I mean." You ask, hopeful for something, anything from her. A smile, a gesture of gratitude, maybe even a implication of something more.

"Me? Why…I'll simply be enjoying the Gods' defeat. The relationship that humans have with the Valkyrie goes deeper than the one they have with the Gods. This win will prove humans and humanity as a whole shall never be forgotten; such humiliation shall be ingrained into history as the day the Gods were shown their true place." She said turning to face you. The expression on her face was pure joy in a sense. Her smile was lifted more on one corner toward her widened eyes as her face expressed the satisfaction that await one who defeated the Gods with mere humans and Valkyries as their weapon. "It will be the end of the era of Gods."

Her hands lifted to the sky, as one would declare such a thing. Her passion and determination was evident; mesmerizing in a way one is when they were out of one's reach.

"….And who would stand by you in a perfect world…?" You asked quietly, yearning to be the name, the individual, beside her.

Brunhilde softly smiled before turning away, "Siegfried and my sisters."

You could only force a smile, as you left her to discuss with her youngest sister, silently walking down the hallway.Of course, they would all surround her and you would be left in the wing, watching her around the corner like you had been for centuries…

Good thing one of those already left a vacancy; you only had to wait to fill it.

Lyle vomited into a bucket again, the curtains drawn in his room, the cool cloth that was on his forehead now warm on the bedside table as he emptied an already empty stomach.

Alabasta’s hot sun bested the curtains, leaking across the floor. Lyle’s usual clothes were thrown off, the black robe pooled at his waist. Drool dripped down his chin as he tried to calm his breathing. The loose shirt he was wearing was almost soaked with sweat and the rain was very rare.

Lyle groaned and rested his head on the edge of the bucket as the door pushed open.

“Go away.” He said, in a hoarse voice. “Leave me to be.”

Cobra offered a soft smile, “When I heard you willingly accompanied Vivi outside, I figured I would find you here. You and the sun don’t mix.”

Lyle only groaned in response. Cobra looked around the room, adapted to attempt to protect such a cold climate dweller. He had suffered every-time he stepped outside,

opting to be nocturnal when it was coldest.

“Lyle…I don’t think you’re meant for here.”

“….I know you’re right.” He sighed, slowly sitting up, his skin red and blotchy. “The heat illness has made

me sick nearly every moment….” alyse

said, sighing as the two silently accepted their paths were not to be romantic or even as neighbors down the street.

Cobra simply shook his head, “You will always be welcome to visit. Maybe bring some ice next time to keep you cool.”

Lyle huffed before getting sick again, Cobra gently rubbing a circle into his back.

Later, Lyle stood on the balcony, staring at the dark sky and just watching the moon. The stars sprinkled against the sky and the sands were finally tolerant for his body. He closed his eyes before opening them, sending the visitor who had materialized on his balcony. “You’re usually asleep now.”

Cobra leaned against the balcony railing with in. “Well…it wouldn’t be right to send you off without a proper goodbye. We were together a year, abit you were sick most of it.”

“The gator gifted me a compass,”

“How…nice of Sir Crocodile.”

They stood in silence watching the sky. Lyle’s eyes drifted down to his hands, still red and patchy. He had thought he had found a good place, but the enviorment was not for him.

“Will you call sometimes?”

“I do not know Cobra…that is for the stars to decide”

Cheong Myeong stared at one of the Mount Hua sect members. Your blade always cuts through the air at a slight angle, no matter how much effort you put into the basics. But Cheong Myeong knew it was inevitable; you were stubborn to your bones. Always were. You did your best to keep up, and you held that ability high. You focused on everything with 100% focus.

The match being set up in front of Cheong Myeong was a simple sparring match. You had your weight settled, your stance solid, like you'd done this a million times before. As the spar went on, you moved in an uncomfortably familiar way. Everything reminded him of someone long ago. The way you arched your foot in the shoes, the way your arm bent, and even the way your eyes narrowed: it was all someone else's. One he knew well. One that he spent hours training by and pushing to keep up.

The boy that Cheong Myeong was staring at was the same spitfire girl, one of his sisters, who died on that day. Who bore that sect symbol and died fighting, whose body simply added to the pile of bloodshed: the friend he mourned along with his past life. The one who never knew what she meant to him.

You turned in his direction and smiled. As you waved, he offered a soft smile back. No matter the body or era, you were always going to have that smile toward those you loved. As you started to wrestle and laugh with others, Cheong Myeong slowly slipped away. The scene was the same as 100 years ago. You were holding a brother in a headlock, laughing like it was the only thing you knew how to do. Yun Jong was trying to get you to release said individual.

It all felt so familiar and yet so different. The heartache was a longing for the past, seeing its present equivalent. He slipped in the mountains, finding a small outcropping. Not the one he had as a private hideout from before, but another one. As he leaned against the tree, Cheong Meong's eyes closed. He saw the versions of you lining up like a shadow, and it's form. You dance and sing when you drink too much, always off-key. You always rub your sword handle when you're anxious. You still even gagged on anything that tasted like raspberries!

It was like you were right at his fingertips, the only one who could understand how he felt. And yet…this wasn't you. Cheong Jin, Tang Bo, and more….they were at the gates, likely watching him as he dragged the sect to survive and thrive.

He straightened as you stepped out, smiling.

"Cheong Myeong! I was looking for you! You disappeared earlier." You said, walking over, stepping over, and still almost tripping on a rock before coming over.

"Ughhhh," Cheong Myeong groaned, before you shoved him, and turned to stand by him. The sun was on the horizon, the mountain range breaking up the cohesive scene.

"Hey…You okay?" You asked, "You seem kind of… nostalgic? Reminding you of life before this new one at the sect?"

Words offered as a soft bridge of understanding, and yet all they did was twist the already aching heart in his chest. It was like a curse to know he would love who you were and love the you of today. The man he knew today would simply hold his heart for longer than in the first life.

"….Just..thinking about the future of the sect." Cheong Myeong said, before feeling an arm get thrown around his neck. "Ack!" He turned to shove your arm off, but his breath got stuck in his chest.

You looked like you did before, the same figure as before…it was like he stepped back into the past he wanted to hold onto. Within a blink, it was over. But the you who remained, caused his heart to settle…to settle into warmth. Death couldn't remove the way his soul craved to be intertwined with yours.

"It's okay if you don't like talking about feelings…Just know it'll all work out." You said, before sliding your arm off his shoulder and grabbing his hand. You started running, dragging him along. The laughter entered his ears, and within mere seconds, you had him captured.

His heart was yours all over again. He would make sure you lived the length of life you deserved. Cheong Myeong grabbed onto your wrist as you held onto his, dragging him. Before he knew it, his feet were stepping faster to pace with yours, trying to drag you instead.

"Cheong Myeong!" You laughed as a smile exploded on Cheong Myeong's face. He started laughing with you.

The ghosts of who you and he were before mattered no more…because he would love you for all the years he didn't have before.

"I always have fun around you, and can't seem to stop smiling!" You laughed out as you sped up, "Now let's spar! I bet I’ll kick your ass tonight!”

"You've always been ridiculous, and you wish.”