the laylaverse

A siren rings through their brain reminding them to play everything cool and casual. They cannot, will not, mess this up by forgetting themself entirely and making her uncomfortable by letting their true emotions shine through. Despite their own personal warnings, however, the smile on their face would find it physically impossible to grow any larger while they stand there looking her over. It isn’t until Layla offers for them to put some of their things down that they realize staring at her with a large grin in complete silence isn’t the best way to go about acting like they only have platonic feelings for her. “Oh! Yeah, yeah, sure… which of the three empty bedrooms should I be putting this poster in?” they jest with a cheeky grin as they make their way into her home. 

Riley is about to offer to put on the corsage when Layla pays them a compliment. The warmth in their chest pools, pulling them back into the silence they had just gotten themself out of. What they want to say is just that — Layla is leaving them breathless, speechless, completely in disarray —, but, of course, Riley knows better, so instead, they settle for less. Though their eyes are soft and pupils dilated, Riley responds, “Aw, thank you. You’re too kind. I was worried the red suit might be a bit too much, but I think it worked out quite nicely seeing as we coordinated without even trying, huh? Unless Beck gave you a hint somehow? I wouldn’t put it past her.” They stop themself, realizing they’re beginning to scramble in their uncertainty of how to compliment her correctly. “You’re absolutely beautiful.. you always are, but you look absolutely stunning tonight,” they finally add before silence takes over them once more. 

Catching themself before they linger too long in silence once more, Riley’s eyes drop to the simple, white rose corsage they brought for her. “Before you get your purse, I better get this on you.” Eyes lift up to her, before they set their other things down and take a step towards her. Carefully taking the corsage out of the box, their hand reaches out to gingerly take her hand in their own and slip it onto her wrist. “There you go,” they add. Flinching slightly as they begin to pull her hand up to kiss it, Riley catches themself and gently pats the top of her hand with their free one before letting her go. 

“And um… to answer your initial question, yeah, I’d be lying if I didn’t get a little excited when I first saw the ad on my phone. It’s my favorite bar that’s putting it on for Pride month, and while it’s not 80s themed or anything… I don’t know…” Riley trails off, finding themself flustered now that they have to put reason behind their extreme planning without giving any details of their emotions behind it all. “You were the first name that came to mind for who to bring, so it only seemed fitting I at least try to do something on theme to the last promposal. I uh…” their cheeks burn and ache slightly as they stifle a laugh, “…wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I didn’t ask the best cha-cha slider on Western hemisphere after all. I’m just hoping you’ll give me a heads up if you decide to break out any of your dance moves? I can’t bear the idea of being shown up on home turf.”

Layla lets out a laugh at their question of where to put the posters. “I’ll save you the risk of getting lost. You can just put everything on the sofa if you want,” she tells them, gesturing towards the living room. She doesn’t even realize that they’re both coordinated until Riley brings it up. That’s a weird coincidence, right? She looks down at her own outfit, then back at theirs. Really weird. “She did not hint anything to me, I swear,” she chuckles. “The red suit isn’t too much. It... suits you.” She can’t help the bad pun, which only further cements the fact they’ve gone back in time and are now their teenage selves tonight. Old habits die hard as she blushes at their compliment. “Thank you,” she accepts the compliment with a small, sheepish smile. Any prior second-guessing she had about her outfit immediately fly out the window.

“You even got a corsage? I’m not even sure why I’m surprised, I forgot this is you we’re talking about,” she teases holding out her hand for them to put on the corsage. A flashback to the night of Riley’s prom, and she forgets where she is momentarily. She looks up at them, and smiles softly. “It’s beautiful, thank you.” What would normally happen next would be a kiss on the lips, but Layla comes back to the present and stays where she is. She can’t prevent the warmth feeling in her stomach when Riley tells her she’s the first person they thought of for the event. Why her? Are they trying to make up for her prom? That has to be the reason. While she doesn’t think it’s necessary for them to make up for that, she’s touched they wanted to invite her. “Well, I’ve never been to a gay prom before. I’ve been to a GLAAD Awards after party, but I don’t think that’s the same thing,” she says with a small laugh. “But a gay prom sounds exciting!”

She laughs when they mention her dancing. “I’m touched you would want to invite me, so in return I’ll refrain from going too crazy and showing you up,” she jokes. “I can’t make any promises about the cha-cha slide, though. Or the Macarena. You know I can’t control what happens to me when the DJ plays those.” The goal tonight is to have fun. With Riley. She can do that. They’ve been doing relatively well since the storm, so tonight shouldn’t be any different. She feels less reservations about it than she probably would have a month ago. But they’re good now. Right? Right. She quickly steps into the living room to pick up her purse that had been lying on the sofa. “Alright, all set.”

They begin nodding, but stop abruptly upon her mention of not being able to change the past. Unable to decipher if this is some sort of warning or reminder that there really is no hope for the two of them working towards the connection they had before — the platonic friendship of course — or just a statement in itself, Riley settles for the fact that either way they need to back off. “I know, and I’m so sorry I did it this way… It was really fucking selfish of me.” Clearly, as much as they liked to believe that they had grown and changed for the better, there were still major flaws which need to be worked on. Maybe if they would have given themself a few more minutes for reflection, Riley might’ve realized that it was complete bullshit for them to be the one breaking the silence to tell her they’ve missed her, that they still miss her. 

“I just, I guess I want to also say that I know all the work to regain your trust and be friends again after all the harm I did as a kid is completely on me, and I will really work hard because I do want you back in my life.” Riley’s nervous biting into their lip finally draws blood, forcing a deep, shaky exhale as they try and stretch their body slightly to relax and release the tension still building up inside them. “…but I hope it also goes without saying, I know that doesn’t happen overnight, so if I ever take it too far, or if you just decide that this—” they gesture between the two of them, “—is not something you want… that we should just remain you know… coworkers? I understand, and I respect your choice completely.” Of course, Riley knows that nothing about what they have said is false. They love her too much to ever make her feel guilty about not wanting something — them — that might not be good for her. Still, even the possibility of not being able to amend the harm they’ve done stings more than they’d like to admit.

Her offer for them to stay the night brings an uncomfortable warmth to their face, one that burns their cheeks and leaves their mouth feeling dry and unable to respond for a moment. “Oh…” they finally begin, unsure of how to turndown the offer gracefully when it’s clear it’s nothing more than her just being polite and, once again, far too nice to them, “…don’t worry about it. I just didn’t know if you wanted help with the clean up, but uh… as nice as the choice between three open beds sound, I’ve got a weighted blanket at home calling my name.” 

Everything else that Layla expresses leaves them once again lost in a state of uncertainty and silence. It’s nice, of course, hearing that she’s thought of them over the years or at least been reminded of them once or twice, but unlike their situation when reflecting on her, Riley knows that there’s a fairly high chance of her moments of nostalgia being less sentimental and more resentful. Her comments of them making her feel comfortable comes at a surprise however. Riley’s eyebrows hike upwards in surprise as they look her over. Layla’s offer for them to stay in one of her spare rooms for the night could easily be written off as her just wanting to be nice, but this is something else entirely.

Without even fully realizing what they are doing, Riley begins opening up, “My parents were really upset with my choice for Georgia Tech. They wanted me closer to home, like Yale or even MIT, but uh… I was really sick of the cold and as far as I was aware, the queer scene has never exactly been vibrant in New Haven or Cambridge. I got a full ride and some extra scholarships which was great because it meant I didn’t have to keep in touch with my parents, but well… still have bills to pay and food and everything don’t you? So um, anyways, I picked up a lot of random jobs.. I actually tried being this barista-bartender at a coffee shop bar, but seriously sucked, so they just kept me as the host and waiter. I’ve performed in drag shows a few times, which was fun. I still skateboard a lot… there’s like, no public transit in Atlanta, so it was less cool tricks than just needing to get places. I started seeing someone towards the end of my freshmen year? I had this… bad night, and there were really no more excuses that I could make for not seeking help, so… anyways, she was super into mindfulness and mind body connection shit, which I hated at first, but I actually love now. It’s how I got into yoga, and I do it just about everyday. I am actually a certified instructor now… it’s one of the odd jobs I picked up, and it gave me a free gym membership, so why not?” Riley isn’t quite sure why the idea of them being a yoga instructor makes them bashful, but they suppose it’s likely one of the last jobs their high-school self would’ve ever envisioned for themself as well.

“But anyways… so funny story? Within like my first three months of therapy, my therapist had me try out a weekend silent retreat… as you can imagine, did not go well, but I don’t know, I’ve actually been thinking I might do one again after this project. I really want a dog or a cat, maybe both, but I’ve also been trying to be that plant parent gay, and as much as I love the plants, I suck at remembering when to water which ones, so I’m holding off on any long term commitments like pets until I figure my shit out more… Plus, with school and then trying to find just about any job before and after graduation to pay the bills, I haven’t really traveled. It’s just so fucking expensive, but I think that’s next for me… go off the grid maybe.. then again, maybe I can find a job over seas.. either way, no time to get a pet. Um… I mean you met Beck, but we have another roommate Ralph, who’s like just about the coolest person I’ve ever met. We also have a friend Ava who I’m sure you’ll meet if you’re around more. She’s sweet as can be and really talented. They’re probably my closest friends. Other than that though, I still try to stay connected to my friends in Mystic, and I have a good group from Atlanta, but uh.. I don’t talk to my parents anymore, and that’s kinda it.” They shrug nonchalantly, not even recognizing they had left out an individual that had interrupted things during their dinner about a week prior. 

I used to host a podcast that was pretty fun, but that dropped off after the movie gigs kicked into high gear. I actually liked it a lot… maybe I’d even do that while I travel. I don’t know… ” they realize now that they’ve been talking nearly nonstop, but don’t feel like ending it on a more low note. “Fast fact time? Favorite album is a toss up between Melodrama and ANTI. Flower Boy and Good News are up there. Favorite movie is Moonlight or maybe Interstellar… also The Lobster, but those last two are just for when I’m high. Favorite color is golden yellow. I have quite a few tattoos now, at least one for each place I’ve lived. I can only sleep with a pillow on my stomach, kinda like I’m spooning it. I don’t drink or use drugs nearly as much as I did back in college, but my favorite alcoholic drink is this sour beer they make back in Atlanta, and non-alcoholic is still iced coffee with vanilla.” Knowing that they’ve been going on a bit too long, they finish with a small, genuine smile and one final fact, “Oh, and I’m ordained now, online of course, but it’s official. I’ve even officiated one wedding.”

While there’s still plenty to work out, Layla’s past accusing them of being selfish. Having the conversation, despite the regret of not having it sooner, is still better than having no conversation at all. And it is ended up being part of Riley’s “process” then so be it. “You’re not selfish, Riley,” she tells them genuinely. She continues listening, and while she believes their intentions of regaining her trust, she still isn’t what she deems to be the naïve teenage Layla and is determined to keep her guard up for the time being. “Okay,” she agrees with a nod. She knows she has to work on her end to actually give Riley the opportunity to regain her trust, which she’s obviously been struggling with lately. “I do want to be friends, Riley. I haven’t lied about that. Unless I tell you otherwise, just... trust that’s what I want, okay?” It is what she wants, but there’s still that damn longing -- she’s trying so hard to drown that once and for all. There’s a twisted sense of security knowing that if the longing tries to resurface, her heart is quick to remind her of what happened. But she wants to be able to just... not feel any sort of longing anymore.

She’s concerned she may have taken it a bit too far with her invite, especially with Riley’s reaction. “Oh, right, of course.” She blushes with embarrassment and looks down. Thank God for this dark closet. “I definitely don’t have a weighted blanket, so, you got me there.” She tries to joke. “But, I figured going home alone after this wouldn’t be ideal. So, um, offer’s still on the table if you change your mind.” Is she trying too hard? She feels like she is. She definitely is.

She’s surprised at Riley’s sudden opening up. She listens intently nonetheless, since she holds sincere curiosity on what they’ve been up to the past decade. Instagram only gave so much information. She tries really hard not to think about how she hadn’t been there during all of this. She shouldn’t even be thinking about that right now. It’s pointless. The what-ifs? Pointless. Yet here she is, struggling not to think about it anyway. “I’m trying to imagine you as a barista-bartender. I really am. It’s not working,” she teases. She’s surprised to hear about the yoga -- she’s had the high school Riley in her mind this whole time that it doesn’t immediately add up for her. “Yoga I definitely did not see coming. Certified, too? That still makes more sense to me than the barista-bartender thing. The skating thing basically forced you to be good at balancing, so.” She sends a quiet thank-you to whoever it was that had directed Riley towards it, since it sounds like it helped them a lot.

She laughs at the mention of a silent retreat, easily picturing how that would have gone for them, the inventor of non-stop rambling. As they continue to speak, she doesn’t realize she’s smiling. For a moment, they’ve shifted into how things used to be. Riley going in-depth about everything under the sun, and Layla sitting there, listening and enjoying every word that comes out of their mouth. Never had there been a moment where she felt like they were talking too much. Not as kids, and not now. Her smile falters, however, when she realizes after Riley went into their current friends that they failed to mention the mysterious Jo that had been brought to her attention at dinner last week. She assumes the omission is on purpose, and she further assumes it’s because they’re doing her the courtesy of not mentioning the person they’re currently seeing, as some silent exes rule. Stop it, Layla.

She hadn’t missed them mentioning they no longer speak to their parents. That was bound to happen, she thought, though she had hoped somewhere along the way their parents would find a way past their... ignorance. But that would’ve been the same as assuming her own parents would do the same. A hilarious thought. She refrains from mentioning she remembers the podcast -- she can’t reveal she’s been consciously keeping track of their Instagram posts the past decade. “So... besides a score composer, you’re a yoga instructor, a former podcast host, and an ordained minister. That all sounds like a very eventful ten years,” she comments with a chuckle. “Melodrama and ANTI were both awesome albums, so I approve of those two. It’s no surprise Lemonade is my favorite album now. And Fine Line’s up there. Harry Styles finally going solo has been... life-changing, to say the least,” she laughs.

She’s not so easily prepared to be open, but after Riley, she puts in the effort. “I haven’t had as much of an eventful journey as that one,” she remarks lightly. “I actually decided to go back on my decision to go local for college, and took a chance with going to USC for screenwriting. Reconnected with Nora, and she’s really the only other person from Mystic I talk to. But it’s been nice having her around, and I get to see my nephew, so. Then after graduation my brother-in-law connected me with some people, and my first movie happened.” She downplays the fact that she was nominated for the movie in question. “Then I did another one after that, and now there’s this one. And a bunch of project and screenplays in the works. I didn’t really have the time to officiate weddings,” she jokes. “I haven’t... really been to Mystic, since Grandma Ellie passed away. But I’m sure it’s the same old place it’s always been. And now I live in an obnoxious house in West Hollywood that has three bedrooms, which is way too many for a person living by themself. But I made the mistake of letting Nora convince me to get as a way to ‘treat myself’. It has a pool though, so I’ll keep it for now. That’s about it.”

With the way Layla smiles once they grow a bit closer to the sleigh, it becomes nearly impossible for Riley’s to not mirror hers. As they make their way up onto the sleigh to join her, their interest peaks upon her mention to live somewhere a bit larger. Everything is shrouded in playfulness, but they still cannot help themself from asking a bit more about her idyllic future. “Is that the dream then? End goal is a big old house maybe in the country for some horses?” Lips press gently onto her shoulder and then to her cheek, although there’s a hint of smugness to their grin as they pull away and turn their attention back to the scenery ahead of them. “Big old wrap around porch with a swing to match and some picket fence lining the whole place? Or am I completely off?” Riley trails off again, biting their tongue to hold back a smirk and laughter before adding on, “Because personally? I had a rather recent realization that the one thing I’ll definitely be needing is a hot tub.” They hold their gaze ahead for less than a second before looking back over at her and breaking into a fit of laughter immediately. Riley’s forehead rocks into the crook of her neck as they let their burst of laughter fade naturally. 

Once they’ve calmed down at least a bit, they prop their chin up to rest on Layla’s shoulder and lean in to give her a small peck on her cheek. “Sorry… I kinda had to…. although I wouldn’t blame you if you threw me out of this sleigh right now. It could start our snow angel making early. It might be a bit avant-garde, but I think it’d work regardless.” The playfulness doesn’t completely subside, but their smile softens as they eye her a bit more. The more they think about just how lucky they are to have someone like Layla in their life — someone who not only puts up with them but accepts them and somehow, maybe, even enjoys their antics — the more the almost slip up from last night resurfaces in their head. Could it really be that they might be on the verge of falling for her? Were they even the type of person that could do that or even be that for someone as wonderful as Layla? “I do want to double back on something, because as much as I would love to test out your snow angel making skills the moment this sleigh ride ends, I also really cannot believe you’d say something as ridiculous as it being one of the only artistic things you can do.. what about baking? Your barista skills and lil latte art? I’m pretty sure I remember some damn good doodles on a little recipe card a certain someone gave me? Also… I think I could make a very persuasive argument for how your art of cuddling is a literal masterpiece. So what do you say about all of that hm? Still think your only artistic abilities are writing and snow angel making?”

Layla realizes she hasn’t given too much though to the far future until Riley asks. She’s had the general “becoming a screenwriter” future that has still yet to become a reality, but in terms of what she wants to do when she’s old? She’s thinking of her answer when Riley brings up the hot tub, and she blushes at the memory of their rather heated time in the hot tub last night. “O-oh... ahhhh,” she laughs and shakes her head bashfully. “A hot tub w-would um... that’s actually a good suggestion.” She smiles in amusement at their offer to throw them out of the sleigh. She admittedly has a stronger urge to kiss them than throw them off. “As tempting at that sounds, I’ll think I’ll throw you out later. It’s not really a romantic sleigh ride if you’re doing it by yourself.” Before she could continue thinking on her answer to their question, Riley argues against her previous statement about writing being her only artist skill. She bites down on her lip, not able to think of any argument against what they say.

“I think... if I try to think of an argument for that, I’m the one that’s gonna get thrown out of the sleigh,” she jokes. After a moment, she gives them a quick peck on the cheek. “You make some valid points, sweetie. Especially the cuddling, I needed a lot of sessions with Juli over the years to perfect that craft.” It comes at a delay that she realizes she accidentally -- yet finally -- gave them a term of endearment. One that her grandparents probably would’ve used. Good job, Layla. “Uh... does ‘sweetie’ sound okay? That kinda sounds like something an old person would say to someone they’ve been married to for a hundred years...” She doesn’t understand why, despite all the rom-coms she’s watched in her life, she struggles in this department specifically. Again she considers if datemate would’ve been the better option.

She clears her throat before finally answering their original question. “But um to answer your question... yeah... I mean... maybe. I haven’t lived in a big city yet but I feel like the big city life won’t be for me forever. Too many people, too noisy, too fast-paced... the country sounds nice for retirement.” She offers a small shrug. “But I think the first step to ‘the rest of my life’ would probably be to leave Mystic first. Whenever that happens.” Sometimes she feels like she’s waited too long. And she knows why -- because she’s been hesitant too. But that’s not really a topic of conversation to have on a romantic sleigh ride. “”What about you? Is that... something you’d wanna do?” She refrains from adding on “with me, maybe”? But she quietly asks that in her head.

Trapped and nowhere to hide any half truths or partial lies to save her from any guilt or discomfort on what should be a nice night, Riley remains quiet for a moment to gather their thoughts. The last thing that they want is to speak out of turn when they know this is already an extremely sensitive topic. Eyes lift upwards to hers as their hands take her face carefully into their grasp. Would they know when it was the last time that they got to hold her like this? Would it, in some way, feel different, or would they be holding her close one day only to be unable to the next? If tonight has served as anything positive, it has been a reminder that their ability to love Layla in the way they always wished and dreamed has an expiration date, and they haven’t a moment with her to waste.

Tilting their head slightly upwards, Riley’s lips press gently into hers for a brief kiss. Once they’ve pulled away, their hands drop to hers to lead her back to her bed to sit. “No one said anything to me. I’m alright as far as that goes, but — I suppose I just don’t want to be around when a particular guest is brought up by your parents, and considering the way he was looking at you, I know it will happen just as soon as they figure it’s been more than enough time to help you change.” Riley quiets for a moment, allowing her a moment to process as their thumb rubs the back of her hand. “I fear if I don’t make my exit before they begin asking you about your thoughts and feelings regarding Mr. Clarke I’ll say or do something out of turn that will let them know my true feelings for you… that I love you. Please do not think that by my saying this means that I’m in any way questioning your feelings for me or even for him, but — it’s only a matter of time before their suggestions are less of a choice and more of an obligation, and I unfortunately would be lying if I were to say I’m not a victim to jealousy when thinking of you on your wedding day.”

Layla was hoping her suspicions that there was more than what Riley had been telling her was false, but before Riley even speaks, Layla already knows she’s right. The moment Riley briefly kisses her, she already knows. She follows them to the bed and sits, an expression of concern on her face. At first, Layla’s confused by who they mean as a “certain guest”. But then she understands, since there’s only one person that entire party she had been conversing with. Her mouth curves downward in a frown, but she allows Riley to continue speaking. There’s a pain in her chest, and a refusal to accept anything Riley was saying right now as fact. Admittedly, she hadn’t been thinking about her parents when speaking with Sebastian. There have been moments in her life where the naïveté of someone who’s lived mostly in her room her whole life comes up, and this is one of those times. She had only been focused on being fascinated by a man her age, who genuinely seemed to care what she had to say. She didn’t think about her parents misinterpreting that fascination.

She squeezes Riley’s hands once they’re done speaking. She’s upset. Not with them, but at their current situation. At the fact that Riley’s even thinking about a way out of it, because of something Layla plans to go to the grave to prevent from happening. “Riley... please,” she softly begs, shaking her head. “Please... do not bring up the idea of leaving. That’s... I do not want to hear that.” Her eyes fall on their hands. She refuses to think about a day where she’s no longer able to hold their hands like this. “I am not marrying him. I am not marrying anyone. Not if it is not you.” She looks back up at them. “My parents can ask all the question they’d like, but they’ll hear nothing from me beyond Sebastian being a good man. Not a good man to marry. Only a good man. You have my word on that.” She brings a hand up to their cheek, unsure how to rectify this. Neither of them are in a position at the moment to drop everything and run away. Not yet, anyway. It’s that “yet” that Layla clings onto.

“I need you to ignore my parents, okay? I know this is difficult, having to hide like this. I want nothing more than to be able to kiss you in front of whoever I’d like. Tell anyone I want how much I love and adore you. But I believe with my entire soul that this is worth it to me. The opportunity to love you in any capacity is a blessing, no matter how irritating my parents can be.” She gently brushes her thumb over their lips. She wishes to kiss them and forget all about this evening, but she isn’t that naïve. “As long as I breathe, I will never allow my parents to have me wed anyone else. I’ll turn away every single suitor from here to the western most parts of the country. Because I love you, and I’ll hold out for as long as is needed before we’re able to get away from this town together. You must believe that, Riley.”

Despite their attempts to veil any excitement, Riley’s lips twist even further upwards and even crack into a broad grin at her official agreement to join them. “Have you that little faith in me, Your Highness?” they push back before adding on, “Don’t worry though. I’m sure I’m mother would be leading the brigade on that motion if I let something happen to you. I’m on thin enough ice as it is, and I quite like my head where it is.” Watching her as Layla takes her first sip of beer, Riley tries but fails to stifle a small bit of laughter. “Not a fan?” Their eyebrows hike upwards for a moment. “I can’t blame you. This stuff is the closest I could find to the type of beer I was drinking back in college, or uh… uni. I figured it’d only be right to stay on theme with the drunk fast food night we have planned. You’re getting the whole experience, Princess.”

Taking a seat on the window sill, Riley shoots her an amused look upon her reference to skateboarding. “You may be drawing the line at skateboarding, but I have to say… I’m quite flattered you even remembered that small detail about me. Now, you can correct me if I’m wrong, but dare I say there might be a reason you remembered that piece of information? Maybe even because you are secretly dying to ask me to teach you how to skateboard?” They let their question hang in the air for the briefest of moments before continuing, “We could add it to the agenda for our next BFF Outing. A skateboarding and sonnet soiree… I teach you how to skate and you teach me a thing or two about how to write the next great piece of poetry. Don’t worry though, I’m sure we have more than enough time to plan since I’m not quite sure the next time either of us will be spending time in each other’s vicinities for awhile.” Riley’s only teasing her, of course, but while they do enjoy poking fun, they also know they’re on rather thin ice from earlier this evening. The least they could do is not act as if they weren’t paying any attention during their previous bonding session, never mind the fact that they had unintentionally memorized everything they have learned about her since that evening. 

Eyes narrow slightly when she brings up them being tired of her. Really, they expect they should be, and she, even more than them, should feel the same with them. Yet, here they both were still somehow looking to spend a bit more time with each other. They consider it all for a moment. Bringing the bottle of beer upwards for a sip, they try their best to mask the fact that their lips pulling further upwards at her comment. If Riley had been more observant, they might have even recognized they hadn’t been able to stop smiling since stepping into her room this evening, but they decide to not think too deeply into things and instead humor her a bit. “I probably should be shouldn’t I? I gotta say it’s rather tiresome constantly being reminded of the fact that one-upped every time I’m in a room with you. I have this thing about being the most f— desirable person in the room.” Riley takes another sip of their beer in another attempt to mask their shit grin plastered across their face, “Maybe you’re growing on me, or then again, maybe it’s just that I think it might be good to be humbled every once in awhile. Gotta tame the ego. It’s not often I get turned down, whether joking or completely genuine. What was that you called me again?” Their lips press together and fingers tap along the outside of their glass bottle as if they didn’t have it cemented into their memory. “Ah yes, a child. That was it. I guess that just leads me to ask you the same thing? What is it that made you decide to do me the honor of spending the evening with me, a child? Go on, humor me just a bit, or humble me, I’ve already told you I think it might be good for me. Unless of course it is just an excuse to have some good greasy food without photographers in your face for every second, which I suppose is a good enough answer in itself.” Finishing off their drink, Riley grabs one more with a rather good natured smile on their face. They’re hoping the shift in making fun of her to making fun of themself will at least lighten things slightly. “To answer your question though, I promise, it’s so much better than it looks. But um… so we’ve got the drunken fast food coming up to check off your new and improved no-paparazzi-bucket-list, mind me asking what else is on there?”

“I wouldn’t call it ‘little faith’. Only a precautionary lack of high expectations,” she replies dryly. Truthfully, she doesn’t know what to expect from this. Spontaneity has never been her forte. She shakes her head in response to their questions about the beer. “I’m convinced not a soul on this planet drinks this for the taste. It’s impossible.” She frowns slightly, but nevertheless continues to drink it. “Truthfully, I’m not much of a drinker. Wine’s about all I can tolerate. Also beer reminds me of the obnoxious male students back in school. They must’ve showered in that stuff. Disgusting.” She lets out a small chuckle at the memory, as traumatizing as that had been to witness. Her eyes narrow slightly at Riley’s accusation. “Definitely not,” she’s quick to dismiss. “And of course I remember. I listen when people talk. Or, well, in your case... ramble.” She smirks. “But I’ll pass on your skateboarding. I’m quite satisfied with horse-back riding. I have less of a chance of falling on my head.” A feeling of disappointment passes at the reminder that Riley is leaving soon. She quickly ignores it.

She raises an eyebrow at their compliment. Despite their rather dysfunctional dynamic, Riley seems to always find a way to slip in a compliment. However ludicrous it sounds at times. “And who’s said you aren’t?” She doesn’t intend for the question to sound that way. Not in a “I find you the most desirable person in the room, who would disagree?” way. But she quickly realizes that’s how it can be taken, and she quickly adds on. “Any desires towards me is only towards the idea of me. Like I’m some sort of Disney princess, with the perfect fairytale life, and servants and horses and talking animals or what have you,” she scoffs. “They only need to look a tad closer and they’ll see there is nothing desirable there.” The response comes off too candid for her taste, but honestly she would rather that then give off the impression she’s in any way attracted to them. That sounds sad now that she thinks about it. But she’s gone as far as sacrificing someone she once loved for her family, she would be damned to let her secret spill out to someone she’s only “befriended” forty-eight hours prior.

Riley temporarily stumps her with their question, as she isn’t quite sure of the answer herself. She attempts to conceal her lack of an answer by cracking a small, amused smile and taking a sip of her bottle. “I’m not friends with many Americans, as you can guess. Maybe it’s a social experiment to see how your kind acts firsthand,” she deflects with a dry tease. She knows that isn’t quite it, but she can’t grasp at the moment how on earth they manage to still attract her to their presence. They can be so irksome, surely if it were anyone else she would’ve found a way to cut them off already. “I’s good practice, for when I start having to meet American presidents when it’s my time. We’ll be able to bond over fast food now.” 

She’s quiet for a moment, having never been asked such a question before. Her eyes drop to the bottle in her hands. “Well... there are a few things that come to mind. This may sound pathetic, but I’ve always wanted to go to a concert. A normal concert, not a concert event for fundraising or some sort of awareness of a humanitarian issue. I would like to stand in a crowded stadium with all the other thousands of people and watch... well, anyone really. I do like Beyoncé. Well, perhaps ‘like’ is a huge understatement,” she chuckles. “I’ve also wondered what it was like to watch a movie in a movie theater. Or have a quiet dinner at some hole-in-the-wall restaurant without eyes on me. Just the person I’m with and I eating peacefully. Though I suppose this fast food adventure is close enough to that wish.” She cracks a smile, though there is a tint of sadness in her eyes as she takes another sip of her beer. “Simple things. Nothing too over-the-top. Royal life is over-the-top as it is. As you’ve probably seen.” 

It wasn’t exactly a rejection, but things still feel… off to Riley. The sharp shift in the general air of the evening is by no means surprising — even they were caught off guard by the mention of Jo —, so they could only imagine how Layla must be feeling. Even neglecting the fact that Riley is still in love with her, they wouldn’t exactly be delighted to hear about any current or former love interests, flings, or hook ups alike in Layla’s life. Her statement that she’d like to do something like this again helps slightly relieves the tension building in Riley’s shoulders and chest, but they’re still left too drunk and uncomfortable to do much other than nod their head and give her a small wave in return as she walks out the door with Beck. Remaining frozen in their place for a moment longer, Riley releases a low groan before heading back to their room.

….

As the two had said their goodbyes, Beck kept her attention on anything other than the two of them. Finding interest in her cuticles, the slightly chipped paint of the door frame that she’d have to find time to fix up, and her reflection in the blank screen of her phone, Beck didn’t turn to face the two of them until Layla spoke to her directly. Spinning on her heels, she dismisses her gratitude with a flourish of her hand. “Oh, please. It’s not a problem at all.” Turning to Riley, Beck attempts to give her best supportive grin as she props the door open for Layla to head out, “I’ll get her back safely, don’t you worry. Go drink some water for me, okay?“ The guilt of breaking up the pair’s moment weighs heavily on her. Riley hasn’t really told her much of anything regarding where the two of them stand now, or any feelings that they have for her, but seeing the way they light up when talking about her and the grin splattered on their face before she interrupted was all the evidence she needed. 

Although she wants to try and hint at things with Layla now that she has her all alone, Beck isn’t too keen on messing anything up for her friend by being too forward, so she begins with, “Sorry about the abrupt interruption I had there. I’m always so bad about that kind of… you know… timing thing, but I’m hoping the two of you still had a nice night before I came barging in?” That had to be innocent enough, right? She nervously scratches her forehead, trying to keep her focus on the path in front of her rather than looking over at Layla. Beck’s almost positive the other woman would be able to catch on to what she was up to if they maintained eye-contact for too long. 

“This is me!” she blurts out before unlocking the door and climbing in, “So — I know we’ve known each other all of — what, four minutes maybe — but I’m hoping I’ll be seeing more of you over at our place? I’ve only heard amazing things about you, which… if I think about it… might be a bit concerning, no one can be that perfect after all … Are you hiding some deep dark secret?” Eyes flash with a mischievous smile on her lips, hoping that the gentle joke can help relieve some of the tension. “Anyways, I trust Riley’s judgment — wait, for the most part, I’ve never had a friend that passionate about everything. I suppose I do take a lot of what they say with a grain of salt, but… point being, I’ll never say no to a new friend that’s as awesome as they say you are, so uh… feel free to drop by anytime, yeah? Ralph, Riley, and I could use a fourth person for game nights or drunk reality dating show nights. Those two always bicker, and I’m kinda stuck in the middle, so I’m sure they’d appreciate it if someone sided with one of them for once.”

Pausing for a moment, Beck looks down at the car’s console, realizing she has yet to either turn on the car or plug in Layla’s address. “Wait… I should probably know where we’re going huh? Sorry about that. Wanna put your address in, so we can get you home safe and save lil Riley from passing out from nerves?”

As she tries to recover from that moment of weakness with being too bothered about Riley seemingly seeing someone, Beck speaks which takes her out of her head for a minute. She offers the other woman a small smile and shakes her head. “Oh no, you don’t have to apologize for that. You weren’t interrupting anything.” She tries not to think about what “anything” is. What felt like a moment between them was something one-sided, or so she concluded following the reason for that interruption. What if Beck hadn’t interrupted? Would she have let that wine cause her to do some stupid? Riley’s only been back in her life for a few days and she’s felt like everything’s been turned upside down. She isn’t sure how long it will take to adjust to this new normal of them in her life again, but she prays it’s sooner than later. “The night was lovely, though. It was nice catching up with them again.” She’s forcing the inauthentic joy in her tone, if only to not appear off. It was a lovely night. Why can’t Layla just leave it at that? Why is she allowing herself to feel this way?

She opens the passenger door and takes a seat. She sits there for a moment before remembering through the fogginess of the alcohol in her mind to put on a seatbelt. Her coordination is a bit off, and it takes her a little longer than she would like to correctly put the buckle in. She nearly misses Beck talking again because of this, and she looks up. Once again she’s unsure how to feel hearing about Riley talking about her in a positive way. Not because she wants them to talk negatively to her, but it was a concept that was strange to hear after a decade of radio silence from them. She chuckles at Beck’s question about having a secret. “No secrets. An old one used to be I was a Directioner, but these days I’m come to terms with my prior obsession,” she jokes as she leans back in her seat. She’s touched that Beck’s so interested in being her friend, and though they haven’t known each other very long, Layla thinks she’s sweet so far. If she really wants to try being friends with Riley, the logical thing to do would be to get along with their friends too, right? Never mind the slight awkwardness she feels about Riley telling their friends about how great she is. “They have a tendency to be really passionate about everything,” she lets out a genuine laugh. That was one of their many endearing traits. Her face softens. “But, yeah, I don’t really ‘hang out’ a lot so... I think game nights and reality shows sound nice,” she nods slightly. “I haven’t met Ralph yet, but I’d love to some time.”

“Oh, I thought you were going to show off some kinda psychic ability and surprise me with knowing my address,” she teases before putting her West Hollywood address into the GPS. “Riley’s seen me do some stupid stuff when I’m drunk so I don’t blame them for being worried.” They would worry without the history of extremely klutzy things she’s done drunk, but that’s besides the point. “So, how long have you and Riley known each other?” she asks curiously.

WHO: @slayluhh​ ! WHERE: layla’s place ! WHEN: june 8, 2022 at 6:00 pm !

Riley hadn’t really known what was going through their head when they first saw the social media graphic for the Queer Prom at their favorite gay club in the city. Within the span of two minutes, they had booked two tickets and sent Layla a vague text telling her to clear her calendar for that evening and to wear something she’d be okay having pictures taken in. On one hand, it is Pride Month, which is not focused on anything romantic, including the Queer Prom, but once they considered how she might take things when she found out their plans for the evening — given the fact that they had in fact attended one senior prom together and not Layla’s due to the break-up — nerves started kicking in.

Anyone else might have ensured that things were kept more casual — invite a few other friends to join them rather than meet them maybe, picked her up in their car, not gone through the work to make a poster board —, but Riley being Riley ( and completely unable to half ass anything when it came to Layla ), they have successfully pulled out everything that they could think of to make this night worthwhile. Dressed up in a comfortable suit, Riley grabs the corsage box in their hand along with the Prom Poster before stepping out of the limo. With a shaky breath, they grab the finishing piece — a boombox which they click play on to blast In Your Eyes — which they prop up on their shoulder before making their way to her door.  

Whether minutes or seconds, the wait nearly becomes unbearable with their hands growing sweatier and sweatier by the moment, leaving them needing to adjust their grip on the poster and boombox, until — “Hey — ” Their lips immediately pull into a small smile, mouth opening and closing as Riley’s left speechless while they look over her. Remembering themself after sitting in silence for a bit too long, they finally shake their Prom poster for her before asking, “I know it’s not a whole choreographed dance routine, but would you do me the honor of being my date to the Queer Prom tonight, Lil Broderick?”

It was between this or catching up on the latest season of The Crown. And while Layla would have loved to indulge herself with a pint of Ben & Jerry’s and Elizabeth Debicki playing a very tall Princess Diana, the mysterious plans Riley had apparently thought out had left her away from the television remote and instead imprisoned within her obnoxiously large closet as she spent too long decided what she was going to wear in front of Riley. She shouldn’t care so much about what she’s wearing, right? She wants to agree with that other voice in her head and just slap some jeans on, but the other part of her that admittedly still wants to look nice for Riley wins. “Why are you like this?” she asks herself out loud, as she looks through the same row of dresses she had just looked at five times previously. Would a dress be trying too hard? What if she overdressed? Or worse, what if she underdressed? It would’ve been helpful to know exactly what Riley had planned out for them, but since they were a person of mysteries at the moment, she was inclined to go as nice as possible. After all, if it’s one thing she knows (though there are of course a lot of things she knows), it’s that Riley always goes all out with their plans.

She decides to attempt to compromise both comfort and elegance and chooses a red get-up that Nora had gifted her a while back. That, with her flat-ironing her hair and packing on the makeup -- why is she acting like this is a date? It isn’t a date. Of course it isn’t. It’s just two friends hanging out... somewhere, wherever that is since she has no idea. As soon as she’s finish getting ready, she’s panicking slightly that she may have overdone it. What if Riley gets the wrong idea? What if they pull up at her house right now and they’re just chilling in jeans and a t-shirt, and she went all crazy for no reason? Is she so out of her mind that In Your Eyes is randomly playing in her head right now for no reason at all? Wait -- no that’s happening outside of her head. It’s... at her door?

She opens her door, and immediately a blush rises to her cheeks seeing Riley in a suit. She only processes that for a second before realizing what else is going on here. A boombox, a poster... her eyes slightly widen in both surprise and confusion. “H-hey...” she greets lamely as her eyes dart between Riley’s face, the boombox, and the poster. Her heart flutters at their question. Prom? Her eyes wander to the limo parked in front of the house. Even though she’s still confused, she’s also touched by the gesture. Never mind they’re both in their late twenties about to go to prom. They fact they put this together just for her, well... she’s trying not to think too hard about it, considering their thoughtfulness has always been on the long list of reasons she loves them. But it’s a little hard to ignore her love for them when they’re standing out here with a boombox like they’re both inside an 80s teen flick. Layla had almost forgotten how much being around them always felt like the cheesy rom-coms they used to watch together. On what planet would she say no to them right now? Her eyes return to them. “W-wow, um... yeah! I’d love to,” she responds with a grin. “This is... very John Cusack of you. I-in a good way, I mean. This is all... incredible.” It feels so much like prom that she’s regressed back to the stammering awkward teen.

“So this is what you were plotting? I definitely didn’t have ‘going to prom for a third time’ on my list of guesses,” she teases. Remembering they’re just standing out here, she gestures towards the inside of her house. “Did you want to put all of that down...? I’m ready to go, I just need to get my purse.” She pauses, the suit they’re wearing catching her eye again. She knows she should say something, she wants to say something, but it’s been a long time since she was able to so casually comment about how gorgeous or beautiful they were. She’s already feeling like a teenager again, but right now she feels like she’s back in the earlier phase where she used to struggle with giving them real compliments, instead of the later phase where she had been more lax with the compliments. “You look...” She is not going to just say “nice”, she refuses. With a small mental push, she gives a proper compliment. “... very dashing, by the way. That’s a nice suit.”

Riley’s facial features soften as the image of a younger Layla saving up and spending the little money she had for her high school significant other takes form. “I don’t know why you’re saying that as if it’s not one of the sweetest things I’ve ever heard. If little me would’ve been on the receiving end of that, knowing that you just spent all your money to make my day, I would’ve been wrapped around your finger.” Give them a few years and a bit of time in Atlanta, it would’ve been a completely different story: after the fire, being in an environment that was more friendly to people like them, and not having any knowledge on what healthy dating habits look like. But, younger them — the one that craved acceptance, affection, and love — well it would’ve been game over. “I feel like you should know by now that it’s a pretty dangerous thing to let me know that you want to do something more eventful with me. Now, I’m going to be spending these next few weeks planning out an entire affair for you. I’m already pretty set on getting a car to go for a drive down the coast at least one day. If you want, we could even spend the day with whatever festivities I can think up and then head out to a little beach house or something to watch the sunset in the privacy of our own little place? Unless you want to spend the whole day and night exploring? Trust me, I can fill up our time. I’ll probably be stumped trying to figure out what to leave out of this trip’s plans, so… that being said… you gotta rein me in a bit, or I’ll have us doing things all the way through midnight. Besides, I bet there’ll be at least 10 midnight romantic events going on within like a 20 block radius of my apartment, so the decision is all yours.”

Her next statement brings them to complete silence. Riley hadn’t spent much time thinking about what it really meant to love and be loved in return until it smacked them in the face — they had been too busy running from it all —, but nothing could have prepared them for this. Having exposed the darkest, dirtiest, most shameful parts of themself, the parts that not even they had wanted to admit there, here she is, not just putting up with it, but loving them with all of their parts in consideration. Taking in a deep inhale, their breath catches at the peak, leaving Riley choked up and teary eyed. Remaining quiet, their hand reaches out to take hers. Riley struggles to find words for what to say until at last they break their silence by beginning with, “I wish I was better with my words, but, Layla Broderick, I have never felt so seen or loved by another person. You have brought a spark of life and excitement into my life that I didn’t even know I was missing. I spent so much time… way too much if I’m being honest… searching for the next great thrill or adventure to try and give my life meaning, and then you just walked into my life with your perfectly made iced coffee and desire to see me hop around like an injured kangaroo, and every day with you that followed — every second of falling more in love with you and being loved by you — filled my life with more magic and adventure than I could’ve ever dreamed of, and I cannot wait for so many more magical days with you by my side. Loving you has been the greatest adventure that I could ever hope for.” 

A few tears escape, leaving Riley giggling momentarily and wiping them away before continuing, “And while we continue on together, I do want you to know how much I appreciate your support and patience with me. I know I don’t always make it easy, but I promise that I will never stop loving you and working on myself to be better for you, for me, for us. When I get back to L.A., that will be my top priority… finding someone to talk to because I’m in this for the long haul, and I know life isn’t easy, and we’ll have more things thrown our way, but I’ll be ready for them, and I’ll be right by your side the whole way.”

It’s pointless to think of “what if”s at this point, but Layla can’t help but wonder -- what if this had started back in high school? What if she had realized her crush on Riley before she got a girlfriend? Would the end result be the same? Would they still both be here in this diner as they are now? Or did all these years need to happen in order for them both to be ready for this? “Sure wish I knew that back then,” she jokes. “Although, I think I’d rather treat you with my barista tips now than with my weekly allowance back then. I think it lets us do just a bit more than a night at Red’s before curfew.” Her mouth curves into a wide smile as Riley explains their plan to make their weekend an entire affair. It’s no longer a surprise that they always go the extra mile, but she’ll accept it given it’s their first Valentine. Her secret plan for them won’t be quite as extravagant, but it will be special nonetheless. Just the thought of it brings up her nerves, so she pushes the thought back for now and focuses on Riley’s plans. “If you somehow get Beyoncé or Harry Styles involved in this plan, you can do whatever you want,” she replies in jest. She gives their suggestions some thought, fingers tapping lightly against the table. “I think a drive on the coast and a beach house would be amazing. Ending the day with sitting on the beach and watching the sunset with you sounds like top-tier romance to me, personally.” She can already visualize it as a movie scene. Warm weather, bare feet in the sand, cuddling up with the person she loves as they watch the sun set over the Pacific together -- her cheeks hurt from how hard she’s smiling at the thought.

Layla’s eyes widen when Riley becomes teary-eyed. She panics for a moment, not intending to make them cry. But before she can say something, Riley’s response stuns her into silence. Being with Riley has mainly felt like a dream she’s feared she’ll wake up from. It’s all been too good to be true. Never in her life had Layla ever imagined making another person feel the way Riley is currently describing. But she may have finally accepted this is reality. They’ve told her they love her. She’s told them she loves them. And she hasn’t woke from this dream she’s felt she’s been having. When Riley finishes, instead of speaking she wraps her arms around them and places a few kisses on their cheeks and along their jaw. She feels nothing but pure content -- as if she found something she’d been missing her entire life. “How can you possibly say you wish you were better with your words when your words are so perfect?” she speaks softly before she places another kiss on their cheek. 

She pulls back to look at them, arms still wrapped around them. “I don’t want easy. I want you, no matter how hard or easy that gets.” She reaches up to brush curls away from their face, trailing from her hand to their lips, and back up to their eyes. “I’m proud of you for seeking someone out and working on yourself. All I want is for you to love you as much as I do. Because you’re the most incredible, loving, funniest person I’ve ever met and you deserve to see that too. And you’re stuck with me the same way I’m stuck with you.” She kisses their shoulder, though with how she’s feeling she could spend the rest of the day doing nothing but kissing them all over the place. Well, almost all over the place, she thinks, since there are places she’s still preparing herself to kiss at some point. “Thank you, for loving me and helping me realize I actually can be this happy. You’re the single greatest thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Once they realize she’s crying, their body goes rigid. Riley isn’t quite sure what they expected her response to be or even what they wanted her response to be. Yelling at them would’ve been better than this, kicking them out, telling them to leave her alone… but crying? They have to wonder now, how much pain can a person bring another and still claim they love them? Was this what they were now: the person that digs the knife even deeper into old wounds? And then they’re left to ask, did it make it better or worse that all the while they thought they were tending to them, maybe even fixing them? 

Before Riley can stop to think about what they’re doing, they move closer to her so that now, instead of facing her, they’re by her side with one arm wrapped over her back. It’s muscle memory that Riley’s body hasn’t seemed to shake despite all these years. Sure, they’ve comforted others when they’re down, but it’s never this innate nor this natural. Fingers splay out as their hand gently rubs her back, only pausing slightly when she repeats the phrase they had thrown at her right before walking away… suffocated. Ten years ago, that was exactly how they felt, not by her but by everyone and everything else. And when it all came down to it, Riley knew that wouldn’t have been healthy either — leaving her to tend to the weight of their grief and trauma all by herself — but that recognition alone, of how to voice precisely what they were going through, might have saved their relationship or at least some of Layla’s heartbreak. 

It isn’t until she adds on ‘if it had to end’ that Riley recognizes just how emotionally on edge they truly are. Stomach clenching tighter than it has this entire evening, tears start flowing . With their free hand, they furiously wipe away the tears as they continue to remain quiet and try to focus on what she’s saying. It all could’ve been a massive misunderstanding. She could just mean if they had to end in that moment. Surely there’s no way that she could seriously still have feelings for them or wish that they had been together this entire time, as a couple. Yet, when she finishes talking, they find themself speaking without thinking through their words first, “I wish I’d been strong enough to ask for help… that it hadn’t—” Their final statement, that it hadn’t ended at all, gets caught in their throat, and their eyes drift away. Eyes come to a close, burning behind their eyelids as they force their tears to stop closing, biting into their lip to help avert the pain to a different portion of their body.

After composing themself once more, their eyes open and turn back to her before continuing, “That was without a doubt the hardest thing that I’ve ever done…. walking away, while still wanting to be with you, while still completely in love with you.” Their stomach twists again, throat going dry, but still Riley pushes on, not wanting to linger too long, “I just really hope you know that it’s nothing that you did. There’s nothing that you could’ve done. You’re such a good person, always have been… Us ending, that was on me… completely, and I’ve paid for it. Like you said, we were best friends first, and if I’m being completely honest, Layla, as hard as I tried to replace you and fill in the gap that I made, I’ve never even come close. Don’t get me wrong… I love my friends, and they’re amazing and beautiful individuals that I love and treasure with all my heart, but you just…” They go quiet, catching themself before they push it too far again, bring things back into the realm of telling her just how they feel… how they’ve always felt. She had always seen something in them that no one else had, loved them in the way that they needed without them ever having to articulate it. 

“ — anyways, what I’m trying to say is, it’s the worst mistake I’ve ever made. I might’ve been really drunk, but I meant what I said you know… that I’d always choose you? I’m not ever letting you go again, and I know that I can’t make up for the years I missed, but… I know that I really want to get to know you again, and for you to get to know me again. I know that I won’t be sleeping much tonight anyways, so if it’s not too much, maybe I could come help clean up your place from the storm and we could just, you know talk? Really talk? Whether it’s about your life now or if you want to talk about everything you’ve gone through in the past… I’m here for you, and I want to know about it.” They go quiet for a moment, their hand finally drawing to a standstill on her back, “The time apart… it — I could find ways to distract myself from it… but it never went away.. silly or pathetic as it sounds, whenever I’d see a stupid Carrell movie or ring pops at convenience stores… I miss you. I miss my best friend.” And in that moment they knew that it was true, that they would put themself through this emotional wasteland and heartbreak again and again, every day, knowing that they will never be able to be with her like that again, just so long as they can still have her by their side in some capacity. Riley would always choose Layla, in any capacity, no matter what.

Another conflict in time periods happens as Riley shifts next to her, arm around her back and hand rubbing against it to comfort her. She doesn’t fight the gesture. She manages to find the familiarity somewhat comforting, if only for a moment. She looks down as Riley expresses their regrets in leaving. She didn’t think they’d stop loving her the moment they left, but it was apparent, to her at least, that she hadn’t been enough to make them want to stay. And back then, that thought alone devastated her and messed with her head for a long time. If she had known back then what they were telling her now, how different would things be? Neither of them would ever know. Riley places all the blame on themself, but that doesn’t retroactively wash away how she had felt back then. But what causes her head to turn toward them is when they explain that they could have never replaced her. That clashes with the decade-long assumption she had for so long that they moved on and forgot about her. So long she thought she had been a fool here, still having them on her mind no matter how many years had passed. 

These mentions of Steve Carrell movies and ring pops are nearly enough for her to tear her walls down completely, say “fuck it”, and kiss them right here. She still isn’t quite sure how to take their statement of always choosing her, after everything that’s happened. Do they still love her? She has no idea why she’s asking herself that question. Because really, what does the answer matter? If the answer is no, then she’s completely alone in this struggle to move on. But if the answer is yes, all she can think about is the wear and tear her heart went through for years. It’s as if her heart had gone through so much emotional trauma that it can’t bear to give herself up like that again. She forces logic to come in play here, because in reality Riley’s only recently come back to her life. She knows so much of the Riley she knew and loved in high school, but not the Riley now. She can’t afford to be that naïve kid again who allowed herself to be completely consumed by one person only for it all to be shattered. She barely survived it the first time. So, she’ll try the friend route, which she’s convinced herself is the safer route to go. To try and get back the best friend she’s been without for so long, because despite only recently coming into her life, Riley is the closest thing to a best friend she has here right now. Which sounds sad, but true friends are few and far between in Hollywood.

She wipes some tears that had fallen while Riley spoke. “I just wish we had this conversation sooner,” she admits softly. It feels ten years too late. But at least it happened. That’s more than what she thought she would ever get the last decade. “But we can’t change the past. So I guess we’ll have to work on the future.” She pauses to sniffle and think about their proposal. Naturally she’s hesitant to “really” talk to them, but that’s just instinct from her fear of getting hurt again. She knows that if this is going to work, she has to try on her end also. “You can... stay over, if you want. I don’t mind,” she offers. Even though they have roommates to keep them company, she still makes the offer in case they would be more comfortable with her instead when they’re feeling like this. “I have, like, three bedrooms that no one uses...  that’s totally a normal thing for someone to say.” She chuckles. “But... I would like that. Not just about me. I want to hear about you, too.” 

She isn’t quite sure yet if she feels better or worse after this unexpected burst of emotion and string of confessions. But she doesn’t want to stay away from Riley, so that’s a good sign, right? She rests her chin on her knees. “It isn’t stupid or pathetic, by the way,” she speaks softly after a moment of silence passes between them. “There have been times where something reminded me of you. I never really... had another best friend after you.” She offers a small shrug. “The whole ‘industry’ thing gets a little lonely sometimes. Sure, you have people flocking to you asking for every little thing all the time but... that doesn’t really make it any less lonely. So, it’s been nice having a familiar face around every day. Someone who feels...” She nearly says “like home” but she knows that would be too much. “... I don’t know, ‘comfortable’, I guess.”

It was such a simple sentiment — the fact that she too would miss them — and yet, it elicits a form of bashfulness from Riley that they haven’t yet been acquainted with…. at least, that’s the only thing that they can really label this. Their eyes flicker between her and the space just beyond her shoulder, overcome with too much to be able to focus on her without the fear of doing something embarrassing ( like exposing themself and what they were really just about to say ). Everything is turned upside down and on its head when she uses the word forever. Their prior hesitations to holding her gaze are forgotten. If her statement, that she would potentially wait forever for them, had been shared months prior, they may have shut down, run even. But this was their new normal: a normal that was crafted by Layla’s consistency in her loyalty, patience, deep thoughtfulness, and care. It’s a normal that has led to impatience when watching the hours tick down at work knowing that they have plans to see her when they get off. It’s a normal that leaves them dreaming of flashes of a shared, warm home with two people curled up together on a couch — the flash of two rings — rather than the old norm where they would dream of only flashes of naked bodies, sexual fantasies, and no strings. Despite their overwhelming fear of the unknown with commitment and relationships — the path they know that they’re on with Layla —, because it’s a walk that they’re taking with her, Riley feels safe. 

“You’d probably wait forever?” Though their question comes off as slightly offended, the playful sparkle in their eye and upwards curve of their lips tells her they’re anything but. Their thumbs gently stroke the curvature of her jaw as they eye her. The idea of a forever was such a foreign concept to Riley. They have always believed they are living on borrowed time. It was the kind of mentality that led to their decisions to follow impulse rather than structure, choose a fun night in a dark room with a near stranger rather than pursuing and seeking out a deeper connection, and plan for the moment rather than the long term. Forever was a term that was reserved for fairytales, not for the life and times of Riley Lorde Jackson, but Layla had begun the forming of a new story, one that included the both of them, together. Although the future ahead for them is blurry, it still remains. It’s there as a promise for something brighter for them both if Riley is only brave enough to take that risk when the time comes. “My life has been insurmountably better with you in it, like this, so I may not know how much time I have left you know…. here,” they gesture vaguely, not knowing themself whether they were speaking about this trip, Mystic, or even in this life, but knowing it was the same statement for all of them regardless, “— but I know that I want to spend as much time that I have with you by my side.” Riley rises up just enough to uncurl their legs from behind them and instead have them wrapped around her, so they are now fully in her lap. Eyes squint playfully, and the gentle grazing of fingers upon her jaws and cheek subside as they add, “—So are you sure you want to deal with my simping for that long? Because I’m letting you know right now, it’s not going away, and it’s definitely not decreasing, but on the flip side, I also can’t promise you that it won’t increase… The rate we’re at, you’re going to have me in the running for Number One Whipped Simp of the Year, and I’m not complaining.” 

Despite their commitment to not push things too far sexually with her, Riley hasn’t completely turned off it off either. They notice almost immediately when her eyes drift from there’s to the rest of their body. Any level of playfulness that had been in the air with them dissipates as they watch and listen. Though Layla’s take on how to initiate any sort of make out is a bit unique, Riley also greatly appreciates it. It gives them the exact information that they need to give her what she wants… not too much and not too little either. Their pupils dilate and brown irises darken as its now their turn to look over her form, taking in the closeness of their bodies and the points of contact where skin presses into skin. As their eyes find their way back up to hers, Riley nods and offers her a smile, dripping with the desire to close the spaces that exist between them, “I’d like that.”

Layla lets out a small laugh when Riley brings up her “probably.” She gives a playful shrug. “Well, yeah, I have to keep the possibility open that I’ll come across Harry Styles or a recently divorced Beyoncé,” she teases. Though she jests, in the back of her mind she’s certain that she would still choose Riley over either of her top celebrity crushes. No, Riley has marked themself as irreplaceable in her heart, labels or no labels. It doesn’t feel real when they confess their life has been better with her in it -- she can’t fathom having that effect on a person. But Riley, while sometimes leaning into hyperbole, has never come across as insincere to her. “Why... are you talking like you’re going to die any second now?” she questions with a raised eyebrow, before letting out a laugh. “If you’re going to pull A Walk to Remember on me, maybe let me know after this weekend? You’ve already told me you’re leaving, any more big news this weekend would just be cruel.” Her smile softens as Riley adjusts themself so they are completely in her lap. She’s not used to feeling so much toward one person. There’s so much she wants to say to them, but her brain and mouth have never agreed on anything. Sometimes that’s for the best, though she isn’t sure if this is one of those times. “I’ll ‘deal’ with your simping for however long you want to simp,” she tells them, while the words may come off as humorous, the softness on her face as she replies indicated she’s being serious. Really, she wants that to last forever, and if Riley’s implying it will be for that long, then that’s all she can ask for.

While one of her strengths has always been her self-control, she’s never found it more difficult than right now as they make out in the hot tub. Hands unsure of where to go with all this exposure of skin, under the water Layla moves her hands in circles across Riley’s back. As their lips move from her mouth to her jaw, Layla places light kisses on their shoulder as one hand moves down their back. Her brain goes haywire from the combination of Riley’s hands and lips on her skin, and one specific spot on her neck their lips touch causes a moan to rise up her throat unexpectedly. With the ache between her legs growing, and the way Riley’s maneuvering around her bra, she finds herself craving more, instead of feeling hesitation. Her current raging hormones have her completely forgetting that a hot tub is probably not the most ideal place for her first time, and it’s not until Riley asks how she feels that she’s broken her out of her trance. 

She’s feeling slightly light-headed and words don’t come to her right away with Riley’s question. Instead she laughs at Riley’s remark about needing a cold shower. Her face is burning, and she’s in disbelief that for a second there she was fully ready to go all the way in a hot tub. She can’t really blame herself, considering Riley is really good at making out. It’s almost unfair, actually, how good they are. “I-I um... that was...” Her brain hasn’t yet returned to normal functioning. “It was... grope.” She blinks in shock, realizing that was not the word she meant to use. She was still thinking about Riley’s hands on her bra. “Uh! I m-mean it was great! Dope! B-both! Great and dope!” She nods frantically before shaking her head and letting out an embarrassed groan as she rests her forehead against their shoulder in defeat. 

FLASH FORWARD TO THE NEXT DAY - SLEIGH RIDE

“Oh my God! Look at that horse! He’s so cute!” Layla beams at the brown and white horse tied to the bright red sleigh they’re about to get on. It’s easy to be fascinated with anything that’s outside of Mystic -- or, more specifically, outside of her room, since she’s sure there are horses somewhere in Mystic. Just not anywhere she goes regularly. Her mitten-covered hand squeezes Riley’s as she gapes at the majestic creature. “Since I can’t have a dog, maybe I’ll get a horse for a pet. Although my apartment’s a little too small so I’m gonna have wait until I live somewhere a bit bigger,” she jokes. She hops on the sleigh first and quickly turned toward Riley to grab their other hand and pull them up. Once they both sit, Layla links her arm around Riley’s. To say she’s excited to go on a romantic sleigh ride is a bit of an understatement. She hasn’t allowed herself to think too much about Riley leaving, so as to not taint the weekend. Not saying it hasn’t slipped through her mind a few times already, but she wants to try really hard to focus on the weekend now and not what comes later. 

Her eyes wander to their snowy surroundings. A lot of people hate winter because of the cold, but she actually loves it. “Snow’s so beautiful. Winter without it feels so incomplete, you know? There’s something so magical about it... like no matter how old you are it can still bring out the little kid in you.” She turns to them and smiles. “We should totally make some snow angels after this. I love untouched snow. It’s like a blank canvas. And snow angels are about the only art I can do besides writing,” she chuckles.

Holidays were never a fun time in the Jackson household. Between the overflowing alcohol that only seems to increase in their household around this time, the remind of the fact that their family was not like the other happy families in town, and the mess they’re usually left with after their mother has worked her way through one too many bottles, Riley’s not quite sure how they ever could enjoy them. Working the Broderick family’s parties offered them some relief, but then again, they also realize now that working in silence and without the acknowledgement of their love for Layla was less painful than having the knowledge that the love was mutual but that there was a timer on their love that was getting closer to go off by the second. 

Nodding at her suggestion to take leftovers, they give her a small smile in return but are taken back by her sudden kiss. With their head torn in three different places — one that desperately wants to give in and just be in the moment with her, the other back home trying to mentally prepare for whatever state their mom is in, and the third watching the nice gentleman chat with Layla — their response to her kiss is delayed and lackluster. 

Their guilt is palpable as she pulls away and asks what’s wrong. They can’t lie to her to her face, but they also don’t want to start any sort of argument. Eyes closing, Riley leans into her chest and lets out a low shaky exhale. “I can’t hide anything from you, can I, my love?” Their arms reach around her waist, pulling her in tighter to them. What were they to say? That they knew this all was just a waiting game until she was forced to marry? That maybe she should take a spouse that her parents both agree with but that is also kind and intelligent over waiting it out and potentially marrying someone cruel? No, they couldn’t do that. “I’m really tired, and I know what’s waiting for me back home.” Pulling away, their eyes find hers once more. “I just think it might be better to deal with her now while I still have a bit of energy left in me than later. You understand right?”

Layla cracks a small smile at Riley’s initial response, and mirrors them by wrapping her arms around them. Something definitely feels off with them, she just doesn’t understand what. “Regretfully, I know you too well,” she teases, placing a quick peck on their head. She hates when the outside -- such as Riley’s issues with their mother -- invades  the safe space that her bedroom is supposed to provide. But she could never blame Riley for having to tend to their mother. She only wishes there was something she could do about it. Still, their answer doesn’t feel satisfactory to her. She can’t shake it. She debates settling the matter by allowing them to go off on their way. But ultimately she can’t go against her curious nature and decides to keep poking them.

“Of course I understand,” she tells them, a hand coming up to gently stroke their cheek. She can’t help but wonder if something happened at the party while she wasn’t looking. Were the guests more overbearing than usual? Did her parents do something? Is her mind only making up scenarios in her head because that’s what her mind does best? “And I wish there was something I could do to help.” When it came to parents, they both seem pretty powerless at the moment. But one day, she must hope, that will change. “Are you... sure, that’s all?” Eyes study their face, searching for something she still isn’t quite sure is there. She’s simply going by a hunch. “Nothing happened at the party? Any rude guests? Well, ruder than usual, I suppose.” A thumb lightly brushes along their lower lip. “You can speak to me about anything. Always.”

Riley’s face doesn’t shift or change, giving her the clear message that no, they were not kidding. When she finally gives in and agrees, their smile morphs into one that’s broader, toothier, and all together celebratory. Waiting until she takes the clothes from them, Riley turns on their heel and makes themself comfortable on her bed, popping open one of the beers and beginning in as they wait. If they were going to do this drunk fast food thing, they were going to do it right, even if alcohol had only been recipe for disaster in the past for the two of them. They’re all too aware that lying across a random person’s bed isn’t seen as the most respectful thing on earth, but she’s supposed to be their newest best friend. It certainly helps that the moment they lean back across the pillows they’re surprised and comforted by the warmth of her comforter and soft scent coming from the sheets that they have to believe is the detergent.

When she reappears from the bathroom, their eyes widen slightly, lips hanging on the rim of the bottle. It wasn’t as if she looks anymore beautiful than she had all the times they have seen her before ( whether in person or while scrolling through online articles and social media ). Rather, it’s that they hadn’t anticipated the effect seeing her in their clothes would have on them. The strange intimacy of the moment leaves them speechless and eyeing her from head to toe while they lie there in her bed. 

It isn’t until she begins going on about the fate of her great aunt that Riley finally snaps out of it. Eyebrows knitting themself together, Riley rolls themself upwards from their horizontal position and takes the final sip out of their bottle. “Listen, no offense to your great aunt or anything, really, I can only imagine how traumatizing that must’ve been for her and the entire family… but you do realize that was the 70s right? Just about every white dude walking down the street was a serial killer back then.” They pause, lips pressing together for a moment as an idea comes to them. “—Actually, is there any research on that? Because that is a weird phenomena don’t you think? …Anyways, getting off track. My point is, we’ll be just fine. If anything, you walking around with body guards will be more of a signal to folks that you’re you. People don’t really pay much attention unless you make them, or you’re you… like with the whole British royal get-up outfit.”

Rolling off the bed, they take a beer in one hand and hold it out for her, and a beanie in the other. Riley hesitates momentarily before stepping even closer, moving up onto their toes by just a hair of an inch, and putting the beanie snug on her head. Their lips lift into a triumphant smile as they eye her. “Perfect. Now, if you really don’t wanna go, I’m not gonna force ya to. Just uh… let me know what food you want, but if you do wanna go, I promise I’ll look out for you. I may not be the biggest bloke on this side of the pond, but I’m scrappy. I won’t let them hurt you., but um… up to you seriously.” For a moment they consider giving in and flattering her, letting her know that she in fact has made this trip more fun than they could have imagined. However, Riley is too prideful, and they would hate to let the person that irritates them, without really any reason why, that they actually enjoy her company… that they were actually disappointed when she left the night prior and were concerned they pushed things too far earlier this evening. So instead, they just add, “I leave in less than 48 hours, and so far it’s just been planned event after planned event, so I’m just craving some unrestricted, spontaneity. Guess I could’ve gone with Remzi to our lil cozy date, but this seemed like the more fun option.”

Despite her initial protest, her hesitation is already beginning to crumble from the temptation of freedom. It would be the smart thing to do, to heed the horror story of her great aunt and not leave this hotel room without any protection. But she reluctantly admits that Riley has a point. People would definitely notice her more with a hoard of guards surrounding her like they always do.. She’s not a fan of admitting they’re right. But, well, they’re right. She’s confused initially when Riley comes up to her with a beanie after she takes the beer, and she lets out a confused chuckle when they put it on her. She couldn’t look any less like herself right now. While her reservations about this plan were already fading, they’re destroyed all together at the reminder that Riley is leaving soon and the mention of Remzi. What does that say about her, that she’s willing to get drunk and walk through the streets with someone who tends to irritate her a fair percentage of the time, rather than allow them to go off with the rather annoying American man they’re supposed to pretend to date? She chooses not to dwell on that question. Her mind’s now made up. She’s about to do something insane.

“Fine. I’ll go. But if anything happens to me, you should be warned that my parents will most certainly bring back beheading as capital punishment,” she teases with a small smirk. She takes a sip of the beer, making a slightly displeased face afterwards as she hates the taste of beer, but the goal here is to get drunk so she’ll manage. She walks over to a mirror hanging from one of the walls to look at herself in the beanie. Honestly, this disguise may work. She actually barely recognizes herself. “Goodness. I look like I should be out getting fast food with Tony Hawk instead,” she lightly remarks, adjusting the beanie on her head. “Though, I do draw the line at skateboarding. Don’t get any ideas.” She takes another sip before she takes a seat at the edge of the bed. Despite her current get-up, she’s still conditioned to sit up straight with her legs slanted together.

She examines them for a moment. While she would definitely say she’s a better choice than Remzi -- platonically, of course -- she still doesn’t quite understand why they would want continue to hang out tonight. The gala was an environment they were trapped in for a time, but they didn’t exactly have to invite her out now. She slowly turns the bottle in her hands. “I thought you would have been tired of me once the gala was finished.” She’s projecting, because truthfully with how Riley had been acting it should’ve been her being tired of them. No one’s ever been so hellbent on pushing her buttons. Yet the phenomenon of her still wishing to be around them despite that is alive and well. Surely normal people would have grown tired of it by now. Her eyes fall to the bottle in her hands. “It... sounds nice, doing something without paparazzi around for a change. I don’t get to do that very often. I do want you to tell me the truth about something, though...” She looks up at them. “... does fast food actually taste good? Because if it’s as good as it looks... my expectations may be a little low.”

They wish they could just ask her, ‘Where do I put this, all of this love that I have for you?’ Because they can’t seem to find a place to hold it, and it’s taken over. They can feel it in their subconscious, when it comes out at night and taunts them with dreams of what could have been and what was. Dreams that depict childhood ring pops presented as promise rings, laughing in the kitchen beneath clouds of flour, teary eyed kisses after award nominations and wins, and withered and wrinkled hands holding onto each other on a porch-swing at sunset. 

But maybe that was it… Would it be better to try to hold it all in their hands? The same hands that tremble when thinking of her but she’s not around, and then reverberate when she’s near, wanting nothing more than to reach out and touch and hold, to fill the in the dents and crevices that she left in them. The ones that they tried to fill with so many others that never truly fit. The same hands that would wipe away her tears, hold her in their sleep, and clasp her own while walking down the street. Hands that have not seemed to work right ever since they stopped being the hands that she could hold.

Or maybe it would be better to hold it all in their eyes… the same eyes that can’t seem to look at her, for too long because looking at her always leads to eyes drifting down to lips and their body leaning in. The eyes that despite all of this also can’t seem to keep away from her, finding her in every room they share, searching for her while walking down the street when nearby where they work or live, hoping to catch a glimpse, to have yet a little bit more time. But those eyes are tired, they’re already so heavy from tears stinging them every time they think too much about what they lost when they walked away.

And they certainly can’t hold it in their mouth: the same mouth that pressed kisses to her skin as if she were something holy, the same mouth that hasn’t shut up about her since they met all those years ago as kids, the same mouth that chooses biting down and tasting blood than giving in to their temptation to ruin this all. What then would they do when the words finally slip out in front of her that they repeat over and over to themself when they’re alone or in the company of their therapist? How could they expect her to stay when they admit that even though they’re trying to be friends, they’re failing, that they don’t think they’re strong enough to do this.

“I am seeing someone, a therapist,” their eyes move in her direction. Too much of it now is being held in their chest — squeezing and tightening — they need a bit of release, so their eyes, their eyes will do for now. “I have been ever since I got to Atlanta, and it’s helped.. a lot. I’ve worked through so much of all of that shit, and I’m better… really, but thank you for your offer. I’ll be honest, if there was anyone that I’d want to talk to about this, it’d be you, but that’s not fair to you.” It’s too much. Their eyes begin welling up and a gentle clenching in the back of their throat threatens to send them into a coughing spell. They sit up straight now, hoping the repositioning will offer them some form of release, anywhere really. “You’ve always been so good, to everyone…. to me, even when I don’t deserve it, even now. You know, in therapy I’ve learned so much and I’ve been able to forgive myself for so many things from my past that I hung onto and blamed myself for. The death of my friends, not being there for them, the toxic behavior that followed with everything that my parents were saying, but the thing I haven’t let go yet… that I haven’t forgiven myself for is what I did to you. I just got so fucking scared as this kid… I knew that I was drowning underneath all of this shit, and there was you who loved me, and you are the most beautiful person that I’ve ever known in every sense of the world, and I could see it then… so clearly, how if I wasn’t strong enough. If I was going to drown, I didn’t want to pull you down with me, and so I ran, and I fucked everything up, and I hurt the one and only person in my life that I’ve loved because I was too scared to talk to you and let you know what I was going through. I’m sorry. I wish I could say something to take away everything that I did and all the pain I put you through…” they pause momentarily, choking up for a moment before continuing on, “… but the thing I’m most sorry is that I wasn’t there for you when your grandma passed away. I was too hung up on the fact that things might be weird or I might embarrass you that I didn’t even call or text. I know how much she loved you, and you love her, and I just…. did nothing because I’m a fucking coward. There’s no excuse. I should’ve been there. I should’ve been there for you, and not just because it would’ve been the right thing to do or the polite thing to do but because that’s what you do for the people you —” an exhale releases, “—care about. You’re there for them, no matter what. You hold their hand and you lift them up, and you’re there. Like you always have been for me.”

Layla smiles softly when Riley tells her that they’ve been seeing a therapist. She would never be so petty as to wish the worst on them. Even now, after all the work she tried to overcome their breakup, and the setbacks and bumps she had to hit along the way to do so, all she wanted for them was to be happy and at peace with everything they went through. “That’s really great to hear Riley, I’m happy for you,” she tells them sincerely. There’s a sting to her chest when they confess it would be her they’d want to talk to. She doesn’t assume they’re lying, but given how they didn’t really talk to her about it when they were together she isn’t sure how to feel about that. She mirrors them and sits up, bringing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. She’s thinking of what to say, but her thoughts are interrupted when Riley keeps talking. What she didn’t expect right now, or ever really since it’s been ten years so the likelihood of ever receiving it had long seemed nonexistent, was Riley’s sudden apology.

While the closet is dark and she can barely see Riley from the light emitting from underneath the closet door, the hurt and regret behind Riley’s words are evident. She’s stunned as she absorbs their words, so much so that she’s physically frozen in place like a statue, eyes wide. She never expected an apology from them. She didn’t want one, necessarily. Once upon a time she just wanted them back. And that would’ve been enough. But now, ten years later, she isn’t sure if that’s enough. She isn’t sure what is enough. She hasn’t known anything since Riley came back into her life. There’s the young hopelessly-in-love high schooler in her that would’ve done anything to be with them again, then there’s the heartbroken and angry young adult who struggled to deal with the pain Riley’s departure left behind, and finally, there’s her now, in her late twenties, having learned to live a life without them. All three sides of her have clashed nonstop the moment Riley stepped into her office over a week ago, and the conflict is worsening now. She’s already been caught off-guard, but the mention of Grandma Ellie is what finally causes her to break. Silently, a flood of tears pour down her cheeks. It’s all too much, and Layla’s spent so long keeping to herself all this pain. Not just with Grandma Ellie, but the fallout with her parents, and of course with everything she feels towards Riley. She hasn’t moved on from anything. Not a damn thing, and that’s clear to her now.

Once Riley finishes, she’s silent for a moment. A long moment. It feels like years pass before she finds the words to speak. The silence is broken first by her sniffling, before she wipes her eyes. She feels embarrassed at first, though she knows she shouldn’t be. But honestly she hadn’t wanted this to happen. To cry in front of Riley. To cry because of Riley. She had done that so many times that she had sworn to herself she’d never do it again. But that was when she accepted that she and Riley would probably never speak to each other again. Years had passed after all, and from the outside it looked like Riley had moved on with their life. How couldn’t she think that? There had been nothing but radio silence from them the moment they left Mystic. Riley has brought some clarity for their choice in that now, but it doesn’t change the fact that Layla had believed they no longer wanted anything to do with her. 

“Thank you for your apology,” she starts, the shakiness in her tone betraying her attempt to sound calm about this. She sniffles again and brings her knees closer to her chest as if protecting herself. Futile now, since the damage has been done and she’s crumbling from the inside. She’s angry with herself that she’s allowed this to happen after all the hard work she’s done. To no longer be that sad little girl crying like a baby over her first breakup. “I was... sad, really sad, for a long time after you left. I’m not saying that to make you feel bad, it’s just... it took me a long time to accept we were over. And I spent a long time trying to understand what I did wrong, or what I could’ve done differently to make you no longer feel so... suffocated. Because all I wanted you to do was talk to me, because you were obviously hurting and I just wanted to help you not hurt anymore...” She pauses once she realizes more tears are coming down, and she wipes them away. “I know you just explained why you never reached out, but I couldn’t have known that was why. From my point of view, you left and never looked back. So, with the whole Grandma Ellie thing, you don’t... need to apologize for that. At that point I never expected you to reach out, and I can’t be mad at you for something I wasn’t expecting in the first place. I was too busy dealing with other stuff to even think about that.” There’s some unintended bluntness to her words, but it’s true. She had already moved past the possibility of ever hearing from Riley again. 

“Point is...” Is there even a point? She’s only been been spewing unorganized thoughts. “... a lot’s changed in ten years. We’ve been living our own separate lives. And... in those ten years I’ve already forgiven you. Because I don’t blame you for how you dealt with things after the fire. We were just kids, you know? We weren’t equipped to know how to deal with something so horrible perfectly. I just wish...” She wishes things between them had never ended. She wishes the fire had never happened. She wishes they never had to have this conversation because they’ve instead spent the last ten years happily together, thriving in Hollywood together like they used to talk about. “... things had ended differently, if they had to end. We were best friends first, and I didn’t want you out of my life like that. That was the hardest to get over. Not that we weren’t a couple anymore, but that we weren’t... anything, anymore. But... if that’s what had to happen in order for you to seek out someone to talk to and get the proper help you needed to deal with everything then...” She trails off with a small shrug. “I don’t hate you Riley. I never have. Not for a second. Having you back in my life’s been... a lot... and I’m not gonna pretend I know what I’m doing with trying to make this work, but I really do want to make this work. Because like I said, we were best friends first and having you around’s reminded me that I really missed you, and it just... doesn’t feel right to not have you in my life.”

I’m not this type of person. But I’m sad and drunk and pathetic for still thinking about you like this, when we’re close to almost two years since you left. When the current naked body next to me flashed me a friendly smile and threw some silly pick-up lines my way I didn’t know how to respond to at that loud party, the very first thing on my mind was you. Still you. And it upset me to think about how you are the only person to have touched me in that way. I no longer wanted to give that exclusivity to you. I guess I wanted you out of me once and force all. So I tried to force you out of me, with this man whose name I can’t remember is Brad or Chad. I felt nothing. It was over quickly and it took him only seconds to turn over and fall asleep.

I’m left here, lying on a bed in a dorm room that isn’t mine. And still I think of you. I hate that I’m lying on this bed, eyes stinging with tears you still cause me after all this time. I’ve cried enough. But my mind can’t help but wander to you. What are you doing right now? Who are you with? Do you think about me, too? Does that even matter? I’m so pathetic. You’ve obviously moved on. I can’t help but look at your Instagram posts. And I’m not upset with you for enjoying Atlanta. I’m more upset that I’m allowing myself to still be this miserable, and resorting to doing something I would never do like a casual hookup in a sad attempt to get you out of my mind. I don’t love him, so of course I didn’t enjoy it. He’s not you. And I’m not built to be casual with people I don’t know.

I’m going to do better. I need to be better. I have to move on. This isn’t who I am.

LOS ANGELES - SUMMER 2018 (AGE 23)

I’ve been seeing this aspiring actress that Nora took it upon herself to set a blind date up with me. It’s been going on for a couple of weeks, but I don’t think it’s going to work out. She talks way too much about herself. You used to talk a lot, but it was always about something interesting. Even your nonsensical rambles reeled me in, because there was so much enthusiasm behind them. I loved it. You, I could listen to for hours. But her? I’ve learned more about the creation of fake eyelashes than I care to admit. She’s beautiful but I think she should be with someone who can understand her love of being in front of the camera. Not behind the camera. Or in my case, anywhere near the camera.

I shouldn’t be thinking about you. But it’s been a while since I’ve been on dates so I suppose I can’t help but compare.

91ST ANNUAL ACADEMY AWARDS - FEBRUARY 2019 (AGE 24)

They’re about to call the winner for Best Original Screenplay. Nora’s my date tonight, and I’m squeezing her hand so tight. I don’t expect to win. The recognition is an honor enough. I have an acceptance speech written down just in case. Can you believe I beat out the John Singleton at being the youngest to be nominated for this category? They announced the nominees on my birthday! It was surreal then, and it feels even more surreal now sitting in this theater. I can’t help it that you’re on my mind right now before they announce it. I could never admit this to anyone, but a lot about Blake was inspired by you. Her energy, her confidence, her acceptance of who she is -- I had to draw from you, because you’re the only person I can reference to bring someone like that to life. She’s such an integral part of the movie. The only thing I wish was that the happy ending I have to Willow and Blake reflected real life. A silly fantasy I indulged myself in onscreen. Just because I didn’t experience it doesn’t mean I should take it out on my characters.

I lost. Nora squeezes my hand. For just a brief moment I imagine how this moment would go if it were you sitting next to me. We spoke so much of what it would be like to be in Hollywood together. Of working in films and achieving our dreams together. You seem to be doing well with your dream. I’m doing fine in mine, I think. A part of me is disappointed but I’m so grateful to be here at all.

I give Nora a small smile and tell her it’s okay. It’s my first movie after all, and I’m already working on my next one. A gold statue doesn’t mean anything. I don’t know if I should chuck the acceptance speech I wrote down. Maybe the universe didn’t want me to broadcast it to the world. Would you like to hear it? You’ll never see or hear it anyway. It simply a revised one of the speech I’ve always had in my head since I was a kid. Whether I won an Oscar, or Golden Globe, or an Emmy... I’ve fantasized it all in my head. And for a long time I envisioned you in that audience watching me. I imagined so many times to be like all those other Oscar winners, who look to the crowd of the person they love, as they thank them for their unconditional love and support. It’s only right that I recite the bit of the original speech that once included you. In a way, this is your movie too.

... And thank you most of all to my biggest supporter on this journey, the person who I’ve been so unapologetically in love with since I was a cringey fifteen-year-old kid. Not a person alive has believed in me more than the beautiful person sitting right over there. Riley, thank you. For believing in me. For reading all of my drafts that I practically held you captive over because I needed to know what to improve. Thank you for helping me believe in myself. Thank you for understanding whenever I was stressed out with deadlines or fearing the worst about what people would say after seeing my writing on the big screen. Thank you for making me feel so loved, at the times in my life where I held none for myself. Thank you for loving me still, and for loving me forever, and for letting me love you too. I love you, so much more than what the time limit for this speech will allow me to describe.

I’ve imagined that scenario so many times that it almost feels more real than what’s happening now. Like it’s more of a memory, than a fantasy. Yet, you’re not here. Funny how that works. How expectations never match with the reality. But maybe that’s how it’s supposed to be. And maybe right now, I should stop thinking about you any longer. I know what happens when I think too much. And tonight is too magical to ruin.

LOS ANGELES - MAY 2022 (AGE 27)

Jordyn’s a Virgo, so it’s no wonder why she’s flipping out over a film score composer leaving the project. Maybe I’m cursed, because this is my first time being a producer for a film. A producer. I’m still not quite sure how that happened. But of course this is my first time, and we’re down a composer. I thought we had a really great vibe going on, but then one thing led to another and now we’re in this predicament. I can’t tell if Jordyn is actually talking to us or rhetorically asking if there’s anyone around who has a film score composer handy. I personally don’t know any film score composers. Wait, that’s a lie.

You.

I’ve long written off fate. If fate actually existed, then I would call it cruel. Only cruelty would lead to Grandma Ellie passing away so unexpectedly. But the universe must be saying something if I’m thinking of you. Maybe not about us in the way we used to be. Surely that ship has long sailed, it’s been so long.

I blurt your name out to Jordyn. I didn’t even finish thinking about what I wanted to do! Now I’m panicking, but Jordyn doesn’t leave it be. She takes my opinions seriously, since we work so well together. She asks me if I really think you would be a good fit. Of course you would be. You’re a genius with this sort of thing. And if we want this movie to be at its best, shouldn’t we get the best?

My God, what am I doing?

Eyes are watching me, so I tell Jordyn I’m sure. She doesn’t know about us. Why would she? Nobody outside of Mystic knows. And I’m not about to confess that right now. Maybe I’ll tell her in confidence, since I know she hates when people keep secrets. Especially when they could impact the film. I’ll definitely tell her before she reached out to you.

God. What am I doing? I thought I was done thinking about you.

Logic went out the window the moment the tree and harsh wind bursted it open. Years after the fire and the trauma that came from it, Riley had been through hours upon hours of therapy working through all that it had shifted within themself. Nightmares became less common, their guilt over the loss of their friends is nearly distinguished, and they have begun to finally heal. But healing is not some linear line, and Riley had yet to experience something that paralleled that night as clearly as this storm. Even now, with her clearly in their arms, protected by their body in case something tumbled down on top of them, Riley could remember the exact moment the news broke the the fire and the moments of pure panic when her status and location were unknown. 

“Your head,” they mutter, trying to get themself to calm down, breathe. “If something falls, my head will take it,” they add on, blinking hard and fast as their chest rises and falls against her back. Fingers flex and fan outwards until they finger hers and quickly take hold. The adrenaline spike from the onset of the storm decreases slowly, allowing them a moment to relax ever so slightly, just enough to truly register her question and consider their answer. Were they okay? Lips open only to close once more, Riley finds themself stuck without words to describe what they are. Instead, they resort to shuffling off of her, so they’re instead lying next to her. “I’m sorry for squishing you—” the apology catches in their throat, starting a burning sensation in the stomach as they add on, “—it um… the fire. It reminded me of the fire, and when I saw you in the hallway —” Their head turns slightly, eyes widening as they’re just now registering the proximity of their body to hers. “—I was brought back to that night and the day after… hearing about them, waiting to hear who was safe, hearing who else well…” 

Knowing full well that there are rules — rules they set both for themself and those set by the general public on exes — Riley abandons them for a moment as their nearest hand reaches out to take hers again. Eyes turn away towards the ground. A neutral position with their anchor in one hand to keep them here, grounded. The fire, the apology, and their current position ring, reminding them of the apologies they have yet to make, those that no amount of therapy or self-reflection have allowed them to let go of. What though, after all these years, would an apology — in a cramped closet in the middle of a storm — due to ever make up for what they have done to her. Eyes flicker back over to her. “I’m sorry if I hurt you,” they add after a moment, in an attempt to rectify any discomfort they caused from their body being on top of hers, but it’s clear their true feelings seep through, making the apology vague. 

Normally Layla would take this moment to tease them about being hard-headed enough to easily deflect any falling debris, but with Riley clearly trying to call themself down, she holds back the remark. She doesn’t try to push them away, or shift herself to get more comfortable. It’s as if subconsciously she knows what this is about before Riley explains out loud. She still doesn’t move when Riley shuffles off of her and explains. The fire, of course. How could she ever forget? The night Riley lost their friends. That horrible night that, at the core, had been the one thing that ultimately ruined their relationship. Rotted it slowly and painfully from the inside out. She isn’t mad the night is brought up -- how can she be, when Riley’s currently reliving something so awful? It hadn’t been Riley’s fault the fire happened, or that their friends died. And though it took her a long time to accept this, she doesn’t fully blame Riley for how they handled the aftermath, either. She only regrets that they ended things the way they did. That she didn’t do enough to make them want to stay. And there is certainly some underlying resentment she feels for the lack of closure, but she doesn’t hate Riley. If she hated them, she wouldn’t be trying... this. This whole attempt at friendship. 

Honestly, though, she is rather surprised they’re talking about this to her. She’s conscious not to try and change the subject in any way, allowing them the space they need to vent to her. Like she’s sixteen again, eager to do whatever she can to comfort them. Her head turns towards them. A warmth in her stomach grows as they grab her hand, and rather than fight it she simply leaves their hands as they are. She takes their apology as only relating to what happened a few seconds prior. She wouldn’t dare indulge herself by assuming they mean anything else. “You’re pretty light, so, don’t worry about itl,” she replies with a small smile, before her eyes turn toward the ground. This is so much different than ten years ago, where Layla felt like she could do or say anything with them, even with this. But there are boundaries she’s still trying to draw, and with Riley it’s just so damn hard when there’s so much history between them. What part of this would be her talking to them as a friend? And which part would be her talking to them as someone who still loves them? Is it even possible to be both?

“I’m never going to completely understand what it’s like losing people you care about in that way,” she begins softly, keeping her eyes on the ground. “But I can understand, at least, why this storm would remind you of it. I mean, a storm like this in southern California? This global warming is getting out of hand.” She tries to lighten the mood for a moment, before getting serious again. “Something horrible like that never really goes away. No matter how much you work through it. Which, if you have been doing that, that’s really great...” She genuinely hopes they sought out help eventually, and found some peace over the years. To her, that’s above anything related to the two of them. “But for moments like right now, where you feel like it’s happening again... you can always talk to me about it. If you want.” She squeezes their hand with reassurance. “Or if you don’t want to, that’s okay too. But if not me, you should talk to someone. It’s not... good to hold that in.” She bites down on her lip, holding back a sudden surge of emotion that can only be resulted from jumping back ten years, to a time when a younger, more naïve version of herself tried everything in her power to comfort them. To heal their pain. It almost feels like a joke the universe made up, that they’re now lying in a small closet talking about this. She clears her throat, wanting to clear away some of that emotion so it doesn’t dare seep into her voice as she continues to talk. “We can stay in here as long as you want. Though I’m mainly saying that because I do not want to see the damage this storm’s doing to my house right now,” she quips.

The look on Beck’s face screams discomfort, but still, she tries to keep herself calm with a smile. Far too sensitive and people pleasing for her own good, Layla’s comments about baking send her smile directly into a frown. She’s left unsure of how to navigate, knowing how much this all meant to Riley and simultaneously getting the impression that even if it’s nothing personal against Beck, Layla is not in the mood for friendly small talk.

Meanwhile in the bedroom, Riley’s left making their best attempt at damage control with Jo while simultaneously trying to expedite the whole thing, so they can get back to Layla. Maybe they were just far too intoxicated with love and liquor for them to make much sense of everything, but they could’ve sworn there was a moment between the two of them… that maybe she too was feeling the way they were ( and always have ). 

After having been told by Jo that they owed her, Riley hangs up and promptly makes their way back out into the living room. Whatever illusion that they had built up in their head prior to talking to Jo was clearly just that: an illusion. Eyes lock onto Layla immediately, eyebrows furrowing as she stumbles slightly. Moving to her to help her out, Riley’s mouth hangs open ready to say something but falls short when they can’t find a reason for her to stay. Not without confessing everything at least. 

Luckily Beck saves the day and offers them a few more moments when she jumps in with, “Oh don’t worry about an Uber. I can drive you. I’m heading into work for the overnight anyways. Let me just grab my stuff!” And with that, she was the one to disappear, leaving the two of them alone once more. 

Knowing that they only have a few moments with her left, Riley finally closes the gap between the two of them, hand reaching out to take her arm gently. “Hey, are you going to be okay? If you don’t think you’ll make it in the car, you can have my bed for the night and borrow some clothes for tomorrow,” comes out, but what they mean to say is that they once again ruined the moment between them, that they’re still in love with her and want to be with her, that Jo is nothing to them, and it’s all just a big misunderstanding if they could explain. But — they’re too scared, too ashamed, and too sure that she could never feel the same for them again that they keep quiet, only allowing Beck to once again come into the room asking if she’s ready to go. “Hey! — Layla, just let me know when you need to be into work tomorrow, and I can pick you up. I could use the extra time working, and I’ll just drive you back to your car after. It’s the least I can do.” Their thoughts, too fuzzy to make much sense of, leads them to pull her into a hug, adding on in a slight whisper so just the two of them can hear, “And I meant what I said… all of it.” Removing themself from her, Riley tries to force a grin onto their face. “Text me when you get home. I had fun, and I’ll see you tomorrow, Lil Broderick.” 

“Oh --” Layla’s inebriated brain takes too long to think of a proper response for Beck, as she’s soon gone to get her stuff. “Okay,” she breathes with a small chuckle, before looking at Riley. Eyes glance down briefly to their hand on their arm, before returning to them with a small smile. This is for the best, she’s convinced herself. Anything longer would be... too much. And she tries to look at the positive of this -- things appear a little clearer after tonight, that they are and should be on the road to friendship. It’s perfectly fine that they’re seeing someone. Or more than someone. That last thought will need some convincing but she’s determined to stick by it. It’s not like she was actively trying for something more than friendship, after all. She hopes over time, moments alone like this will gradually get better, that this conflict she keeps feeling with eventually fade. “Oh, no, I’ll be fine. Thank you. I just need some water in my system and I’ll be good.” She doesn’t even feel like she’s the one saying the words right now. Her body’s simply gone into autopilot, waiting to finally be able to escape so she can give herself some time to recover from all that’s happened.

She’s admittedly relieved when Beck reappears, and she gives them a small nod. She looks at Riley and smiles tiredly. Tomorrow is a new day, she hopes, so she decides to accept their offer. “Sure, that would be great. Thank you. The meeting’s at nine. Actually, I’ll text it to you, in case the wine makes you forget in the next five minutes,” she chuckles. She’s caught off guard by the hug initially, but she reciprocates. A blush rises to her cheeks as Riley whispers that they meant everything they said. A fleeting thought passes that she wants to stay, but she still has some self control left to pull away and smile down at them. “I will. Thank you... for dinner. I had fun too.” She means it, even if the night turned a bit sour at the end there. She has no one to blame but herself on that one. “Let’s do this again soon? Not a whole feast --” she can’t help but tease a bit. “-- but... hang out again? Soon? I’d like that.” She finally takes a couple of steps back towards Beck. “And thank you so much for the ride, Beck. We should go before I pass out on your floor,” she jokes. She gives Riley a small wave and one last smile before heading out with Beck.

Her hand on their cheek and subtle nod to remember to be realistic is the only reminder they need. It’s all unintentional they know, but still, it deflates them ever so slightly. Moving their hands to begin working away at their food after the kiss, Riley simply nods and smiles as she lists off ideas for the two of them. A warm smile crosses their lips when she brings up seeing them in action, being able to brag about knowing them some day in the future. Left conflicted over the compliment and the underlying scenarios that such a statement brings up, Riley laughs softly before taking another bite out of their scramble. ( Does she mean she’d be bragging about seeing them in their early days or simply that she can for see a future where they’re apart and she can brag that she knew them during the early days? ) It’s ridiculous they know. She’s their girlfriend. She just told them that she loves them. She was the one to bring up visiting them for Valentine’s Day. Yet, here they were anyways, with everything that had transpired last night still lingering in the back of their mind.

“We can do all of that. As long as my girl’s happy, I’m happy.” Their free hand moves down to gently rest on her thigh, giving it the smallest of squeezes. “What are you thinking of for the vibe of the actual day? Because I’d be more than happy to do something big and eventful, but I also don’t want to force you into that if you’re thinking of something more laid back. I really don’t mind in the slightest as long as I’m spending it with you.” Riley takes a moment to look over her with a smile before finally leaning in and giving the side of her neck and jaw a small peck. “You’re really going to have let me know if you want to egg Nora’s ex’s house though. You know me…. I can’t half ass a prank like that. I need time to plan and prepare.”

Layla purses her lips in thought at Riley’s question. Granted, she has an idea of what she wants to do already forming in the back of her mind, but that’s going to be a surprise. While either way it wouldn’t matter to her, maybe the theme for their first Valentine’s Day should be something big and eventful. It would have been a waste of decades of consuming every cheesy rom-com known to man if they didn’t do big and eventful, really. “Well, the only romantic Valentine’s Day I’ve ever done was using my allowance to have dinner and dessert at Red’s. With soda in wine glasses to make it less sad-broke-teenager,” she laughs. If only teenage her had foreseen she was going to end up celebrating Valentine’s Day one day with the love of her life. She would’ve thought someone spiked that soda in the wine glass. “So that being said... I think the twenty-six-year-old me would like to do something a bit more eventful with her partner she loves very much?” Fork in one hand, she rests the other on top of Riley’s hand that’s on her thigh. “Only because it’s our first one together. If you just want to watch Crazy, Stupid, Love every year for Valentine’s while I bake some heart-shaped cookies after this year, I’m game. I hear they have gondola rides over there. There’s an idea. Or I’m just happy hanging out at Santa Monica pier with you. Kissing you on the ferris wheel sounds romantic.” 

Even though she’s sticking food in her mouth, she’s too focused on Riley to actually enjoy what she’s eating. She’s normally a patient person, but all this planning it going to make the next couple weeks a killer in terms of waiting. “You know, as tempting as that is, I can’t risk you getting arrested. He doesn’t have a sense of humor,” she chuckles. “I’m pretty sure he has one of those fancy L.A. homes with a security gate and cameras anyway. He’s not worth the effort. Losing Nora and Nathan’s probably punishment enough. Maybe someday if we ever end up at the same Hollywood party as him, we’ll plot to trip him. Blame it on the alcohol.” She leans back in her seat to take a break from eating and smiles at them. Last night feels like a distant memory at this point, with how happy she currently is. “It’s crazy... every time I think I can’t get any happier, you prove me wrong.” Her features soften. What she says next surprises even her with not a stutter to be heard. Just raw, unapologetic feeling. Because she loves them so. “Not just because of Valentine’s. Although I do think it’s super dope I get to have you as my Valentine’s. You... are everything, to me. That’s really the only way I can sum it up. You’re everything, and I’m perfectly fine with that. Every second in my life I had to wait to get here, to be with you, to love you, all of it’s been worth it.”