#& harrison.

if there was one person stella was hoping wouldn't be joining the camp reunion it was harrison. and if there was one person she was hoping would be joining the camp reunion... it was also harrison. for a long time he'd been the person she'd stayed the closest in touch with, frequent letters and weekly phone calls. multiple visits— her prom, the house she'd lived in with the band, his college graduation. it was during the latter trip that everything had blown up. letters stopped showing up, the phone stopped ringing, and two years flew by.

stella's ex-boyfriend had gotten in the way of her reaching out for the first, but the second had been all her. it was her own pride that stood in the way of a reconciliation, embarrassment over being left by the person she'd ended a friendship over defending. god, she was just as bad as dani, wasn't she?

time hadn't been the kindest to her. she's still undeniably stella (curly hair, a big t-shirt over cut off shorts, sparkly lime green polish adorning her fingers and toes), but it's as if someone has dimmed the lights. she's spent the past year being tired and lonely and desperate, quite literally working overtime to keep her head above water with no end in sight and it shows.

a day of working on the music room mixed with forgetting to drink water has left her with a headache. she'd sworn she brought a bottle of asprin with her, but she couldn't find it among her other things, and while she's almost positive ever-prepared sadie had some in their room, she hadn't been around to ask. so, she'd trudged up to the nurse's station, ready to see a decade aged version of the one who had been there when they were children.

harrison was the last person she'd expected.

for someone who could never seem to stop talking, words momentarily escape her. all she can do is stare for a moment, wide eyed and brain whirring. "i um- headache," the words unstick themselves from her throat in a way that's almost as painful as the throbbing in her skull, "painkillers?"