#reader x lin

You had made a choice sometime last week delirious from the heat to cut your hair short and you were regretting it every time you tried to put your hair up. In the heat, you’d forgotten all about how shrinkage affects your hair. Lin claimed he liked it over text – you still hadn’t seen him since the bombshell and that was on you. You found every reason to not see him. It led to some awkward conversations with Pippa and Jasmine but at least you had the excuse of not liking your hair. After a while, you found a grove with the curls and decided you actually kind of liked your hair short. Jasmine remarked she might want to steal the hairstyle later which helped with your ego. Life was starting to become a little bit more stable in New York City and you were starting to grow attached.

Of course, there came the wonder if you could even afford to stay. While money hadn’t been an issue thus far, you were certain that if you stayed it would become one. Additionally, the envelopes felt more and more like a life line more than ever. You were starting to get wrapped up in the adventure, wrapped up in the fact you felt different than you ever felt before. You didn’t know where the person who you were that came here began and where the person who took on this adventure ended. It was a magical transformative feeling that seemed impossible to believe.

At some point, you knew you had to open up envelope eight that had a picture of the Empire State building on it. You were nervous because you’d become accustomed with what the pictures meant on them. In a way, you wished that it was anything but that. You were nervous enough among the tall skyscrapers whenever you were downtown that towered so high and seemed to curve from the ground. You weren’t looking forward to Jasmine suggesting you go up one of the tallest ones and actually be in it. Thus, you were ignoring it to avoid it.

Thankfully, the chaos leading up to the premiere of Hamilton was getting stronger and crazier. As far as you can tell, the opening night was one hundred percent sold out. The previews had garnered a ridiculous amount of buzz and Lin was busier than ever thus you no longer had to make excuses to dodge him. Which you were somewhat grateful for, if you were honest. Since your little revelation to him, he was actually a little off. You knew that there was an age difference, but it seemed like it became more apparent after you told him about being virgin.

Or maybe you were being ridiculous, you reminded yourself. Maybe he was just stressed about the opening night. The gold dress suddenly felt like it might be too revealing in its backlessness, that it showed far too much leg and was much too sexy. It was like overthinking had returned with a vengeance, making up for the past few weeks you’d been free of any feeling of anxiety. Somehow, you’d ended up on the floor of the bedroom floor, trying to remind yourself to breathe. It couldn’t be this awful to go to a premiere, you reminded yourself. Additionally, you’d get to see Lin… and the other girls who you hadn’t seen in a while. You could do this, you told yourself.

The day before the premiere was oddly calm. There was no previews and you were able to sit in a coffee house with Pippa, Jasmine, and Renee. Despite the fact tomorrow was such a huge day, it still felt oddly relaxed. The four of you had agreed to not mention what was happening tomorrow and to just let today be today. “I feel like I never to see you guys anymore,” you remarked. “It’s like I live alone.”

Pippa laughed at this. “If you lived here, you’d be grateful for that,” she teased, reminding you of the desire to move out to New York City… and the cost of rent. You supposed if you were able to make rent in Los Angeles, you could make it in New York City. “And honestly, it feels like I live alone when I come home lately too. I know I’ve been coming home late, but it’s eerie coming home to a completely clean apartment! It’s like… where is the other person?”

“Oh, she’s always been a neat freak,” Jasmine butted in.

“Be grateful,” Renee said, a bright grin on her face. “May I remind you I’m coming home to a mess?”

“You’re the one who had kids,” Jasmine exclaimed. “You decided that hey, maybe I should put two children in my apartment. No wonder it’s always sticky.”

Renee stuck her tongue out at Jasmine and you grinned. You didn’t expect Renee to have a playful side. “Hey, just because you were a messy kid doesn’t mean every kid is constantly sticky,” you commented, pleased when Renee laughed. You felt a little awkward around Renee still. There was something slightly intimidating about a woman who seemingly was one hundred percent together, like most woman in their mid-forties. That and it definitely felt like you were young enough to be her daughter thus you were concerned she might treat you like a child. The more you hung around Renee, however, the less concerned you were with being treated like a child.

“Besides, my kids are great,” she said with a bright grin. “It’s the husband that’s terrible at keeping everything clean.”

You didn’t know when things transitioned, if you were honest. You weren’t certain how you ended up back home, on Pippa’s couch again while she made you both tea before bed. You weren’t even certain when you started referring to Pippa’s apartment as home. It seemed like a lifetime ago that you were on Pippa’s doorstep after your flight, not sure who you were meeting. Now you knew her favorite tea (Earl grey), the kinda of things she liked to keep in her vegetable crisper at all times (carrots, avocados, and kale), and her nightly routine (cup of tea, wash her face, read poetry before turning in for bed) like the back of your hand. It was weird, actually, because you couldn’t recall when that exactly changed. Pippa was a stranger to you when you arrived and now it was like she was a long lost sister.

It was hard to tell if that was a good thing. You supposed in theory new friends were great. In practice, it just meant wondering if you were going to end up missing her. What happened when the end game was reached? You didn’t know.

You had a love hate relationship with the journey. On the one hand, the feeling of exploring where something could go, the thrill of chasing down all possibilities was exciting. On the other hand, you didn’t know where it led. That was something you couldn’t stand. It kept you up at night, tossing and turning as you wondered where this could possibly take you. As a result, you were exhausted when you finally rose on the premiere date. You felt the jitters, shaking you to your core. It was hard to think straight. You didn’t even know how to act. The dress you’d set aside was finally being pulled on to wear and it struck you how strange it was that this outfit had only one exact purpose: to be worn to the premiere. It struck you how wasteful that was. You weren’t the kind of person who did luxe like this. It was an engrained habit to think of where else you could wear this dress.

Pippa was too calm for your liking. She’d pulled you aside and helped you pin your curls into a sort of messy bun. She’d excitedly said you looked amazing in the gold dress and all you could think was that you felt overdressed compared to her. She insisted you looked fine, even encouraging you into putting on a swipe of bright red lipstick. You felt a bit out of place but squashed that down. You hadn’t seen Lin in weeks and you’d been missing your aunt like crazy. Any worry you had was secondary to the excitement you felt about seeing people that had been too busy to see you.

New York City was a beast on normal days to get around but today it seemed like Pippa was rushing the both of you down to a car. The premiere was hours off, but Pippa knew the city better than you. She assured you to get from where the both of you were in Brooklyn to Broadway would be insane today and that it was best the both of you left now. And she was right – the traffic was uglier than anything you’d ever seen in Los Angeles (which was saying something). You didn’t even know what to say right now. It seemed like something impossible and the silence hung in the air, daring you to say something.

“Uh, break a leg?”

Pippa laughed. “Thanks,” she said, a bright smile on her face that made you nervous. You weren’t a jealous person by nature but something about the fact that Pippa was going to be the one playing your boyfriend’s wife made you uneasy. It would be easy for anyone to see why, of course. Pippa was gorgeous in the way that only she could be – effortless. You’d seen her skin without makeup – you knew her face was flawless too. “Any reason you’ve been avoiding Lin?”

You felt your cheeks get hot – could she tell you were blushing? Sometimes the skin in your cheeks gave it away, sometimes it didn’t. You hoped she couldn’t tell. “Uh… it’s just a bit awkward. Like… he probably thinks I’m immature or something.”

“The only immature thing about you right now is that you’re avoiding your problems. It’s mature to embrace them, you know.”

Of course, you knew she was right. You couldn’t just run from this and that you’d have to face reality. It was the only way. Granted, what you weren’t expecting was reality to feel so fake. You nearly swore as the car arrived in front of the theater and there were cameras, taking photos of the people arriving. There was even a backdrop of the musical’s logo and what appeared to the sponsors for the musical. Pippa was grinning as she helped push you out of the car and you were stunned for a moment as you looked over to the cameras, certain they couldn’t place you but they seemed to think you were worth photographing. Pippa’s prophecy of you being mistaken for a model came true – some of the photographers yelled at you as you followed Jasmine down the red carpet. The flashing of the lights would’ve disoriented you if you hadn’t gotten used to strange flashing lights in New York City. However, if you were honest, it still felt awkward. Your aunt Jasmine pulled you in for a hug in front of the cameras, proudly boasting about you being her niece as she pulled Anthony in for a photo op as well. The first instinct was to smile.

Smiling was easy. It was moving forward that was hard. While you normally thought in metaphors, this wasn’t a metaphor – the lights were blinding. You didn’t know how anyone could stand this. You didn’t even know why people would want this. It was hard to figure out where your feet were supposed to go. Was that Lucy Liu? You couldn’t really tell but it felt like your heart jumped into your throat. Were there actual celebrities at this? Of course, the lights flashing in your eyes made it difficult to tell who was in front of you. When someone was in front of you, they were gone the next second you blinked.

You didn’t know what to expect anymore. It was confusing and disorienting. Lin looked excited to see you, breaking away from some interview to pull you into a tight hug. His arms were warm and reassuring, so you hugged back, ignoring the sounds of shutters going off. There was no way you’d get a private moment with him so you just smiled. It seemed to be the right thing to do. Everyone else was smiling, everyone else was excited. “I can’t wait for you to see this.”

He was excited and it was infectious. You didn’t know what to expect out of this night. But he pulled you into his arms and you suddenly weren’t concerned about the end game. You were willing to let this man lead you anywhere, you decided. And you did – he grabbed your hand and you leaned in to whisper, “I can’t see anything. The lights are making it hard to see.”

He laughed as he gripped your hand so tight that it made it impossible to fear getting lost. “Perfect time to introduce to Karen,” he said and you wished you could see his face. The clicking was also loud and you wished you could go home right now. You hated bright lights and you hated loud sounds. “She’s basically my second older sister.”

This was unexpected. You’d never dated anyone who wanted to introduce you to their family. Granted, it wasn’t his family but rather someone who was basically family to him. This was new territory and you gripped tight to him with shock. “Sorry, what,” you asked as you moved closer to him. “You do know all my friends are in LA, right? I can’t introduce you to my close friends back.”

“And,” he asked as he pulled you over to a woman who also towered over you – and him by about an inch or so. You looked down because she intimidated you a bit and you saw she was wearing wedge sandal heels that look about two inches. “Y/N, this is Karen.”

You braced yourself for a hug but instead she gave you a firm handshake. That instantly warmed you to her. “Nice to meet you,” she said. Her voice threw you. You’d listened to Lin’s previous work in an attempt to figure out what to expect from this work and you knew Karen was the girl who played Vanessa. Karen’s voice in that was high. Her speaking voice, however, did not sync with her singing voice. It was a bit lower and felt more like honey in the way it flowed. “Lin’s been talking all about you. He says you have a master’s in English and that you’re Jasmine’s… niece?”

She seemed like she was curious about that. “Yeah,” you said as she led you into the theater while Lin stayed behind. Some interviewer had dragged him aside to talk to him – you suspected that it might be a while before you got to talk to him again tonight. “It surprises people, I know. Uh, grandpa was kind of young when he had mom… and then she was a teen mom herself. I was born about three years after aunt Jas was born.”  

“I thought he was joking,” she remarked, before gesturing to the man next to her. “This is my husband, James.”

He nodded at you. “Suppose we’ll be hanging out a bit,” he remarked. “We’ve been wondering when Lin was going to move on from his last girlfriend.”

“Is this the same girl that ended up with Michael?”

Karen shook her head with a slight grin. “Did he mention that to you or did someone else did?”

“Pippa mentioned it. So not the same girl?”

“Of course not,” Karen said, leading you into the house. You thought you’d be stopped – there was no way you were allowed to sit up over by the orchestra pit. And yet, no one was stopping either of you to separate you from her. It felt dizzyingly odd. In fact, she grabbed you and sat you on her right while her husband sat to her left. “Lin dated this girl before he started liking Vanessa, which is the girl Pippa was referring to. Years ago, way back when he was first workshopping In the Heights, he was dating a girl called Melissa. Melissa ended up breaking his heart and going off to Los Angeles. After Melissa, he met Vanessa, a girl from his high school. He was in such a funk over Melissa that he barely realized Vanessa was into him. And she ended up working a case at her law firm with a guy called Michael and then they ended up dating.”

“That’s true,” said a man who ended up sitting to your right, a guy who you vaguely recognized from somewhere. And after a while, it clicked together.

“You’re Lin’s dad,” you said, your heart dropping into your stomach. You weren’t ready to meet his parents! “Uh, sorry, this is extremely weird. I didn’t think I’d meet you until… ages from now.”

As much as you wanted to freak out and panic, there wasn’t much time to dwell on that. Panic was a luxury that you knew better than to indulge in. You’d learned how to power through fear. The house lights started to dim and you felt a jolt in your heart as you realized you didn’t know what to expect from the night. You always knew you’d love it – you just didn’t expect this level of love. The same way you didn’t expect to be sitting next to his best friend for ages, his father, and you had a strange feeling the rest of his family was somewhere else.

It was easier to not focus on that when you were trying to focus on the musical unfolding out in front of you. It was easier to focus on getting lost in the stage. What you focused on the most to drown out everything was Lin himself. He was charismatic, charming, and you found yourself thinking heavily about how much you wished you spent more time with him over the past few weeks. A lot of overwhelming panic about the relationship faded away in the intensity in which he played Alexander and in the quiet moments that he wrote. That’s the part you thought about the most: he isn’t just performing, he wrote it.

All of this was because he thought something and he actually wrote it out and finished it. You were never a finisher. You found ways to avoid finishing things. You put everything off. You let weeks go by without writing, you hated the idea of letting something go free into the wild when it could always be better. And wasn’t that the nick of it all? Something could always be better.

It was what drew you to editing, it was why you rarely watched things without internally logging criticisms of it, whether it be a technical mistake, a writing blunder, or some tiny inaccuracy. For the first time in a long time, that internal critic was shut off. You allowed yourself to be amazed for the first time in a long time. You let yourself be amazed, be in wonder.

The halfway point reached and to your great surprise, you were wiping away tears alongside the feeling of.. victory. It wasn’t yours to feel but that never mattered, did it? When feelings hit, they were intense. The strangest thing was that the feeling of panic was gone. When the lights went up for intermission, you got up and felt comfortable in shaking Luis’s hand with a grin as you said, “I never introduced myself before the lights went down. I’m Y/N.”

“Oh! So you’re the famous Y/N,” he said with a grin that reminded you vaguely of your own father’s. It was similar in so many ways that it twisted at your heart. “Lin’s talked a lot about you.”

That threw you. It shouldn’t, you were aware. But it still was something that was new territory for you. You’d never been with anyone long enough to hit this point in a relationship. You had originally thought when the lights went down that it was too soon to meet his parents, but now you wondered if you were right on that. Two months had gone by – that wasn’t really that long but it was still longer than anything you’d ever really had. “Oh? All good things, I hope.”

“Nothing but,” Luis replied as he gestured to the woman next to him. “This is Luz, my wife.”

“Oh, hi,” you said and it was overwhelming. All you could think about was the arguments your parents had. “I’m sorry to cut this short, I have to go... to the bathroom.”

In the bathroom, it was like being sixteen again. You locked yourself in the handicap stall and sat on the floor of the bathroom with little care to the fact bathroom floors were usually dirty. You let emotions wash over you, the feeling over being overwhelmed and terrified by the unknown. The panic of everything flooding back, thinking about how easy it was for things to crumble apart. How things could be going good then knock you back to the ground.

It shouldn’t be this hard to be happy. You knew that much. And you wondered if it was just something fundamentally broken within you. It weighed hard enough on your heart so often that you wondered if you should be doing something about it. A change of scene hadn’t fixed it, no longer being broke didn’t fix that empty feeling in your chest, and this relationship certainly hadn’t changed it. You mused on the idea that perhaps this was a sign that you needed something more. You wanted some kind of proof that the adventure wasn’t the only reason you were here in New York City. You considered your happier points... when you were creating, when you had a new project to work on, when there was something new to do.

Perhaps that was key. Perhaps moving forward was the key. You made a sound resolve to read the next letter the minute you got home.

The thing, however, about that resolution is that was one of the easier one to forgets as the play drew to a close. You were already a mess, it only made sense that the ending left you a sobbing mess in your seat. It was everything that you’d been trying to feel for weeks coming unstuck. The quasi sadness feeling that you knew you had to feel at some point.

It was a funny thing when it came to emotions. Once you finally cried until you couldn’t cry anymore, wiping tears away in a vain attempt to save your eyeliner, it was like you were completely new again. There was nothing weighing down on the heart anymore that made it feel like you had a stone in your chest. And part of that might have been due to how it helped blaze away the transition from the theater to the after party. You’d spent so much of leaving the theater sobbing and the way over Pier Sixty that it had been so easy to lose track of time, to lose track of telling Lin how amazing you thought the musical was over blubbering sobs that were most definitely not in any way embarrassing.

And of course, as usual, it was easy to be blown away by Pier Sixty. New York City had a way of making small spaces seem massive and important. The way the lights glittered like stars that you’d never seen before in your life made it almost impossibly magical. You imagined this must be how Cinderella must have felt at her own ball – dazzled and easily impressed by what seemed to be second nature to the rest of the guests at the party.

Did Cinderella ever have an anxiety attack on the bathroom floor during the ball? Thought that she couldn’t do this because it just wasn’t her? Did the servant mindset creep into her head? Part of you half expected your dress to turn back to rags at the stroke of midnight. It was weird when it didn’t and even weirder to realize that the rumors were true: New York City partied longer and later than anywhere else. You thought you knew wild parties from the kinds you saw at your dorm room back at UCLA. This... was different. Classier but still insane.

You barely noticed your feet starting to get sore from the heels, the way your cheeks hurt from laughing so hard at the jokes the cast would make, and Lin pulled you into several dances. He was in good spirits and the most relaxed you’d seen him in weeks. “You know, you made me cry,” you said in the middle of the sixth dance that night.

“Before I respond, can I ask why I made you cry?”

You laughed as you glanced down, worried about stomping on his feet. “Well, that musical you wrote packed one hell of a punch. I swear, it’s like you want people to sob all over the theater.”

“That’s exactly what I want,” he says with a gleeful grin as he spins you around. “Tears sustain me, you know.”

“That’s so mean,” you exclaimed with a squeal as he dipped you, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I can’t believe you’re just feasting on tears like Edward Cullen.”

He paused, a confused look on his face. “Please tell me the Twilight vampire doesn’t actually drink tears.”

“Well, he doesn’t exactly – wait. You knew that reference?” Part of you was stunned – he didn’t seem like the type to care about Twilight.

“I was twenty five when Twilight was released. Of course I know that reference.”

And that reminded you of your freak out. He was twenty five when Twilight was released. You were 15 when Twilight was released... and heavily fucking with it, as much as you’d rather forget about that. It was easy to forget that he was almost ten years older than you but it hit hard right now. Ten years of difference was something that you didn’t want to think about right now. “Oh.” And you pulled your hand away. “I was fifteen.”

That clearly hit him too. “Right,” he said, awkwardly half reaching out to you before putting his hands in his pockets. “Not to make assumptions, but I’m guessing since you made the reference, you liked Twilight.”

And he had a sly grin on his face, almost mischievous. You figured that was a sign you shouldn’t answer honestly. “Absolutely not,” you said, the color in your cheeks betraying you. “I totally hated Twilight.”

“Aw, come on,” he said as he moved in closer, wrapping his arm around your waist and sending shivers down your spine. “You don’t have to lie.”

“Okay, fine. I had a minor crush on Edward Cullen, if only because I admire a man who is pretty and can play piano,” you said with a small grin, amazed at how quickly he managed to turn this around into banter. “And old. Can’t forget that part.”

He had a mock hurt look on his face. “Well that’s just rude,” he said as he swayed the two of you. “Pretty and play piano, fine, but old? Wasn’t Edward like... seventeen.”

“A hundred and ten, I believe,” you said with a tilt of your head. “Which, looking back, was weird. What does someone who’s lived through War World I want with a seventeen year old high school student?”

“Yeah, that is weird. If you lived through War World I, wouldn’t you want someone who was there for the Berlin Wall falling at least?”

“Well, looking back, Edward was a little bit of a creep.”

“No argument here,” he said with a grin. “Didn’t he want to kill Bella?

“Only in the beginning. After that, he decided that he loved her and got weirdly possessive and refused to let her hang out with other guys. Even yanked parts of her car out so she can’t go see other guys.”

“I’m guessing that there was no subway system in Forks.”

“Oh, obviously. No subway system so you just have to drive. Which is unfortunate, because I hate driving.”

“You’d hate driving even more here,” he said with a bright grin. “Traffic here is a nightmare.”

“Oh, indeed. I imagine that when the party ends, there’s gonna be an insane amount of traffic when we leave.”

“Did you want to leave together?”

And you flushed and shook your head. “I haven’t seen Pippa in weeks. I think... Pippa and I should head home together.”

If that wasn’t what he wanted to hear, his face betrayed nothing. Part of you had a brief little fantasy about what the things the two of you could do if you left this party with him. Whisper in his ear that you wanna go home with him, be taken to his apartment. Make small talk in his apartment, before he’d cup your cheek and press to you. And... your heart started to race as you realized what you were picturing and blushed slightly when he said, “Well, Pip is already starting to look a little tired.” It broke your concertation as you gazed into his dark eyes. “If you wanna head out with Pip, I’d go ask her if she wants to go home.”

And you nodded, your cheeks warm. “Oh, of course,” you said, trying to keep the shakiness out of your voice. “It was nice seeing you, by the way. We should... hang out again soon.”

 It was weird when nights in New York City came to an end. The city still continued to stay awake, everything still moving. There was no point where the streets were clear of cars, even in neighborhoods. You remembered Los Angeles, the part you lived in. It was softer at night, serene. Here, it was constantly loud and bright. There was no reprieve from it. And when you and Pippa arrived back at the apartment, you knew you had to open the next envelope. Now that the musical was open, there was no other distractions. Not only that, you made a promise to yourself about it.

So you kicked off your shoes, pulling your hair out of its updo as you flipped over the envelope with a semi empty feeling in the pit of your stomach, the kind you thought had went away.

Honey bun,

A few of these letters have been tasks and others have been explanations of life and love. I know that sometimes I preface some of these tasks with a little bit of insight to your family that I know you're desperate to escape. Sometimes I talk about how life has been going for me. However, this is not a letter about our messed-up family or a reminder that we haven’t talked in years. This is a reminder that you're still on a trip to New York City and that New York City is the greatest city in the world with so much offer you in terms of experience.

I’ve been taking up a lot of your time in terms of experiences, trying to find the best way to experience the city when it’s your first time here. When you grew up in this city, it’s hard to remember that some people are seeing the magic of the city in a way you don’t. The only way I realized this was when I was reflecting on my visits to Los Angeles, where you grew up. You didn’t see it the same way I did – different, new, and exciting.

And when it comes down to it, there are things you absolutely must to do when you're in New York City. Go shopping on Fifth, see Lady Liberty, watch a play on Broadway, and go the Empire State building. That's what you're going to do. You're going to go to the Empire State building. I've bought you a ticket already which is for a premium experience, but in case you end up not making out within a year or decide you want a different package, there's also the cash equivalent of your ticket.

I feel like you can easily ignore this, chose to do something else touristy but I know you’re scared of heights. And there’s a difference between being in a plane and being up high. It’s the same difference between the thrill of the first falling in love and the feeling of steady love. Both are so similar but such different, distinct feelings that this is something you have to do.

I'd suggest taking a date in hopes that you are still seeing the guy you asked out ages ago, but if that isn’t the case then the Empire State building is beautiful to walk around solo as well. Whatever you end up doing, I hope you at least enjoy the day. When you’ve finished this, you can open envelope nine.

All my love, Aunt Jas

You weren’t surprised. It seemed like each letter thus far was something that reminded you of your fears, of your past, of things you wanted to avoid confronting. You felt that to be fair on aunt Jasmine, this was probably cheaper than therapy. Still, the fear of heights was twisting in your stomach and you wondered who would best be the one to accompany for this. You set the letter aside and did what you did best: you wrote.

The city seemed to inspire and draw something out of you. You hadn’t realized how much of a block you had until you got to New York City. Maybe it was the change of scenery, maybe it was the fact you were experiencing things you’d never experienced before in Los Angeles. You’d lived on the west coast your whole life. You’d expected to live your whole life there and yet… here you were. It was strange how it had caused everything to come unstuck in your head, gears turning rapidly that you’d never known were there before.

You thought the way anxiety and sadness mixed felt strange sometimes. You found yourself both hyperaware and unaware at the same time. Sometimes you wrote for hours on end, not sure of what you were writing or what the end game of the piece was. It was relaxing in its own way. At some point, you found yourself composing another email to Lissa. You don’t think you ever really decided to write to her, it just seemed to happen. Whenever one approaches crossroads, one turns to the person that knows them best – it was just the way of life. You didn’t know what to do, ergo Lissa was the one you wrote to.

Perhaps it was simply the fact that the musical had really started, but this week felt lonelier than usual. It was just the way the fact that everyone in your life was either too far away from your or busy. So you ended up wrapped up in the city, not sure what to do when you wanted to avoid the task at hand. There was a system to avoiding the task at hand, of course. It was finding everything else to do but the task, naturally. There was shopping to do where you picked out new outfits for the warm weather and plan for the upcoming fall weather. Fall weather didn’t exist in Los Angeles and you didn’t know what to expect so you wanted to be prepared.

That gave you something to focus on – researching and preparing for the upcoming weather change. It was no longer miserably hot and started to feel more like winter in Los Angeles. This meant it would only get colder and you were dreading that. You’d never really experienced winter before. Neither had Lissa. Unlike you, however, Lissa was excited and expressed some jealousy.

Y/N! I cannot BELIEVE that you’re dating LMM. Do you know how many girls would KILL to be you right now? Ugh, and your aunt is literally Jasmine Cephas Jones. I knew I was right to be jealous of you but your life? INSANE. And like, you get to experience an actual winter for once in our miserable lives. Have you told the cast about me? OMG I hope not! God, the horrible stories you could tell about me… don’t tell them ANYTHING.

Anyway, I don’t know why you’re bugging. Empire State Building, easy as fuck. I don’t know why you don’t just do it. It’s not like you’re jumping out of an airplane, ha ha ha. Anyway, write soon, bitch. Lemme know if you’re down for me to come visit. And don’t forget to tell me what it’s like at the top of the world!

Of course. Your brow furrowed as you read over the email. You couldn’t imagine anyone being jealous of you personally, but you could imagine people being jealous of Lin. You sighed deeply as you thought about what that meant for your own self esteem. Still, you wound up emailing her back with a reminder that it’s summer and you still haven’t seen snow and that she’s always allowed to come to visit if she’d like. Which of course, left one more thing to think about.

Who to take with you on this particular trip to the Empire State Building. You figured the obvious choice was Lin but you just felt awkward thinking about it. And at this point, you were certain that if you went out with Lin again, you were going to say something stupid. The reminders of the age difference two weeks ago certainly didn’t help with the wanting to hurry onto another date. On top of that, it was like every date was starting to be more and more precious. He was busy a lot so the most you got these days was a quick lunch with him.

The other person you saw even less of was Pippa. However, you knew that next week Pippa had a day off and going to the Empire State Building with Pippa sounded like a relatively nice day. So you made the choice easy. You had tea waiting for when Pippa got home from work that day at the table. “So, I opened the next letter.”

Pippa had a grin on her face as she picked up the mug of tea, taking a sip. “That’s the Empire State one, yeah?”

“Yup. Did you wanna go?”

And Pippa had a wide grin on her face. “Of course,” she said as she sat down. “Tickets are on you, right?” She paused before laughing. “Just kidding. I’ll, of course, pay for my own.”

 Pippa’s day off rolled around after a week flew by of you exploring New York and writing up a storm. In your life, you’d never experienced so much peace and quiet. It was easy to accidentally spend a whole day alone in the apartment writing, not even thinking about the time. Not only that, Pippa had Hulu and Netflix and cable so you never had to worry about what was on. “So how long do you plan on staying,” Pippa asked in the line to the elevators.

“I dunno. I mean, this is the eighth envelope. And if things keep going the way they do, it seems like I might actually be staying for a bit longer,” you said with a shrug. “Did you want me to contribute to rent and bills next month? Cause I can start looking for jobs...”

“I won’t make you pay rent until you have a job but if you do plan on staying, it’d be nice to know.”

Pippa didn’t seem too fussed either way and you didn’t know what to say. You hadn’t really thought too much about what you planned to do after the envelopes. You originally thought of this as just a vacation and you had only sublet your apartment for six months. “I kind of... was thinking of selling my stuff back home... and staying. Cause I only sublet my place for six months but...”

“You like it here,” she finished for you. “I can’t blame you – New York is beautiful. And you’re living in a fairly nice apartment, which... your welcome.”

“So if I stay, would you prefer me to start looking for jobs? I mean, I have an English degree so I should be able to find a semi decent publishing job here. I dunno, I’d probably just find one starting at thirty thousand.”

“Don’t worry – jobs are tough out here. Everyone wants to live here, so it might take some time to find a job,” Pippa says with a shrug. Part of you wondered how she could be so casual about housing you for free for an indefinite about of time. That wasn’t something coded to you and you already felt guilty about the mere inconvenience it would be. “Though if you like, I can talk to some of the producers that worked on The Great Comet with me and see if they have any editing jobs for you, if you’d like.”

“I mean, I’d rather just help with bills now. I have the cash.”

And Pippa rolls her eyes. “Fine, you can take care of the cable, Hulu, and Netflix next month if you desperately want to help with bills. I’m not letting you help pay rent when I make enough to pay rent for the both of us.”

“Fine,” you said, dragging the fine out. “But when I get a job, I’m paying the full rent for the next three months.”

“I’m not gonna argue with you on that,” she said with a bubbly laughter that was infectious. That was the thing you liked the most about Pippa – when she laughed, you laughed. It was impossible not to. “Now that we’re in agreement about you staying for longer, then I guess there’s only one thing left to talk about.”

You sighed. “Do we have to have this discussion again?”

Pippa rolled her eyes as the two of you are ushered into an elevator with other people. All you could think about was that how people in this elevator might recognize Pippa but no one seemed to stir. It was a surreal experience to think about how Pippa was the lead in one of the biggest musicals in the world and yet no one stopped to stare intently or uncomfortably at her. “I mean, we don’t have to talk about your relationship. We could talk about this cute guy I saw and how I totally have a plan to get him to take me on a date.”

“Yeah,” you asked with a laugh, kind of amazed at how you could focus on how this was both normal and completely abnormal at the same time. That you already saw the online reactions from this musical and that it was a sensation around the world. And yet here you were, with one of the stars and it felt completely... normal. Maybe it would never feel totally normal hanging out with your friends on this cast ever again. “What’s his name?”

“Steven,” she said with a grin. “I met him at the premiere. He is so funny and smart and... oh my gosh, can I just admit I’ve had a giant crush on him since I first saw him in Rescue Me? He’s apparently been divorced for some time now and I totally think I have a shot!”

“Wait, like... Steven Pasquale the actor?” You paused and gasped. “He was the dude you were dancing with! Did you get his number?”

“Of course! We’ve been texting every day since we met too,” she gushed, lighting up. You recognized that look on her: it was definitely the same kind of look she got when you had the tea she liked ready. “Like, I just get so nervous thinking about it.” And then she got a sly look on her face. “Probably like how you feel when Lin texts you, huh?”

Dammit. She was good. She knew what information she wanted out of you and she wasn’t about to let you keep her from it. “I mean, I get a lot of butterflies in my stomach when it comes to him. And forget that I had all these ideas about how I wanted a serious relationship to go.... and like, I’m anxious a lot. But he makes me feel a little anxious. Like there isn’t as much pressure to live up to some crazy standard I have in my head of who I’m supposed to be.”

She looks surprised. “Who do you think you’re supposed to be?”

“I dunno. Like... I keep thinking of this tough publisher who picks out these incredibly awesome stories that I always needed to read as a kid, who doesn’t let love in and takes care of her shit or something like that. But I gotta admit... I’m kind of a romantic.”

It was something you never really admitted before.  You kept trying to convince yourself that after seeing your parents fight so much that you’d never fall in love. That after every example of romance being a disaster, you never wanted to fall in love. But it was so easy to with Lin. “You can be a romantic and a badass publisher, you know. Women can contain multitudes.”

“I dunno. I always thought you had to be one or the other. Kinda like how I spent ages thinking the only options for sexuality were straight or gay but there’s more to it than that,” you said with a light sigh. “I just... I dunno. I. guess after two generations of my family having kids too young, I just wanted to avoid that pitfall.”

“You’re twenty five. Most people are starting to date seriously at our age, you know,” she said with a grin, in a stunning reminder that Pippa and you were the same age. “You don’t have to worry about the whole ‘having kids too young’ anymore. You’re a college educated woman who pays her own bills and has an apartment she sublets. At this point, you’re free and clear when it comes to that.”

“So if I was to think of this relationship as something that could be serious...”

“It’d be normal,” she replied, rather firmly. “But if you want this to be something serious, you’re going to have to talk to Lin about it, you know. It can’t be where only one person knows this could be something serious.”

The elevator doors swinging open and for a moment, you were blown away. You lost track of what you were going to say to Pippa when the view from the 86th floor hit you in the chest. All you could see was all of Manhattan outside the deck. It was easy to forget your fear of heights when the view so improbable. “I can’t believe this actually exists,” you breathed. “Let alone something I’m actually looking at.”

Pippa grins. “So I guess you aren’t even thinking about how you’re totally freaked by heights?”

You grin as you shake your head. “It doesn’t seem like I’m up high at all,” you admitted. “I just.... you know how I lived in Los Angeles, right?” After Pippa made an affirming noise, you continued. “I lived my whole life there. And it’s not like it is here. There, tall buildings aren’t really a thing. But here... it’s like every building is tall. Apartments tower up into the sky, work offices can be hundreds of floors up, even residential areas have tall buildings. And I’ve never seen anything like it. It doesn’t seem real at times.”

“So is there anything else that doesn’t seem real about New York?”

“You know, you’re like a dog with a damn bone,” you said, unable to be as harsh as you’d like to be. “But yeah. Like... this whole thing with Lin. It just doesn’t seem possible so much of the time. He’s like... this genius playwright and I’ve done... nothing of memorability.”

“You do know when he was your age, he was still working on his first musical with nothing to his name, right,” she said with a shrug. “You have to work for it. You just said you wanted to go into publishing. If you want to do something memorable, you have to start working for it.”

“So what you’re saying is...”

“If you’re going to stay in New York City, you need to start applying to publishing companies here in New York. Go out on interviews, make those connections. There’s so many ways to network here – you need to do it. If you feel insecure about Lin’s career and feeling like you don’t measure up, do something about it instead of whining about it.”

 Pippa’s words might’ve been harsh but she was right. So when the two of you got back to the apartment, you instantly went to the laptop to start working on your resume. It wasn’t the world’s greatest, but you figured that at least it was worth starting work on finding something. In all honesty, you didn’t know what to expect when you started sending your resume off to all the entry level openings you could find.

Instead of focusing on what you couldn’t control, you decided to refocus on the inspiration that had already led to an insanely long first draft of a story. You figured that there are men out there with Oscar wins for stories that are more than obviously autobiographical – why not one from you. It was a pretty wild, unbelievable story anyway. Besides, there was always room for stories about an adventure.

“You’re always writing when I get home,” Pippa said to you almost a week after your trip to the Empire State Building, throwing her purse aside. “What have you been working on?”

You flushed because in all honesty, it was trying to work through the idea of having sex for the first time. What it would feel like. And in all honesty, you had a feeling it wouldn’t be as big of a deal as your head was making it out to be. It seemed like that was your number one thing at this point: blowing things up in your head only for them to not be that big of a deal later. And it was easier to see it in the city that was older than the country itself, that had history embedded in every corner and seemed so alive. It was enough to drive you crazy. “Uh, just been sort of... journaling but in a... writer’s way. Like, I like to filter stuff into fiction that way I can sort of distance myself from it, you know?”

Naturally, Pippa looked vaguely confused. No one you’d ever talked to ever got the whole idea of filtering reality into something manageable, that could be fun to read later. Something that you could possibly turn into something larger than yourself. “So... like journaling?”

“I suppose you could put it like that, yeah,” you said with a shrug. It was the easiest way to explain it, anyway. You had this idea built in your head of careers and passions in writing, all of them seemingly impossible and out of reach. Regardless, you pursued it anyway. “I was just thinking... about... what it’d be like to lose my virginity and so... you know. Writing it out seems to help keep me from freaking out too deeply about it.”

Phillipa had a smirk on her face. “If you’re thinking you’re ready for that, it might be a good idea to tell Lin that instead of me, though I appreciate the offer.”

The train ride back was quiet yet again but this time not because you had nothing to say. You had so much to say and not enough brain power to process everything you wanted to say. You wanted to talk about how your father had cheated but it somehow felt like just because you knew didn’t mean you had the right to breach that subject further. It seemed like you knew something you weren’t supposed to know. Parents were supposed to have the perfect relationship and yet… knowing your father had betrayed your mother’s trust cut too deep. You had this idea of your parents’ relationship. The idea was that it was rocky, but they had stuck together through everything. You thought about it in terms of before you knew and after you knew. You wondered how many arguments had the cheating at the root of it.

You’d learned how arguing worked at a young age. It started with something small, some sort of uttered frustration regarding the dishes, to the electric bill, to forgetting the exit on the highway. And then the other person digged back and eventually the minor reason the fight started blew up until the train ran off its tracks. Until neither could remember what either of them was fighting for and was yelling just to yell. Or maybe… it was screaming to be heard. Maybe your mother had always been screaming because no one could notice how hurt she was. It seemed to make more sense.

The last fight you’d witnessed between your parents, you saw your mother cry and your father stormed out. It was easy to decide you didn’t want to be around them anymore after that. You packed your bags the next day and went off to college without so much as a goodbye. Now that you knew the full story, you felt just a tad bit guilty. Perhaps you should’ve been there for your mother, perhaps you should’ve know. You wondered when it even happened – you couldn’t recall the obvious shift.

Midway through the trip, Jasmine gently reminded you could open envelope seven and you pulled it out your bag. She looked surprised you had it with you. You were surprised at the drawing – it was the perfect capture of you at fifteen in your homecoming dress. You didn’t think she’d cared enough to remember that.

Honey Bun,

I barely remember your mother in any way other than a mom. Anya had you at seventeen and I was barely two when you were born. The huge age difference between us already worked against us as sisters and it didn't help that Anya didn't like my mother. In a way, it was easy to view her as an aunt or something to that effect. It's why I grew up closer to you, honestly. It's easier to view you as more of a sister than my own sister which sucks a lot. It hurts to think that I should relate to her, understand her but I can’t. It’s this massive barrier between us.

What’s really upsetting is that there’s a distance between the two of us now. We grew up as sisters and now… it’s my fault, really. I’m the older one, I’m supposed to be the one who takes care of things. I’m supposed to be the one who’s always there for you and to advise you. It’s on me. And I’m sorry. I suppose that’s what this envelope is… an apology. Accepting responsibility for the wedge between us that exists now. I run away when it gets hard and that’s on me.

I don’t stop to think what my actions can affect other people. I know that I’ve been hard on your father, harder than I should be. I hope by now I’ve told you what happened with your father and your mother. It’s the real root of everything. And I’ll be honest: when my only relationship models have been Anya’s and the ones my dad has had… it’s no wonder that I’ve had difficulty managing any of my relationships. And I know that sounds like an excuse but I promise that it isn’t.

I feel like it’s really hard to come up with tasks for these envelopes so I think this will be another wild card. You’ve probably been in New York City for weeks by now. Do something you loved again – you’d be surprised how different something can feel when it’s in a different context. When you’ve completed that, you may open envelope eight. I hope by now… we’ve started to rebuild our relationship.

All my love, Aunt Jas

There were no answers. Nothing in it seemed to give a way to move forward and only suggested that you look back instead. You felt your heart thud and then you couldn’t feel it in your chest anymore. You were vaguely aware of existing as a person but it was like something disconnected, snipping you away from the reality of the moment. You could blame a lot of things but the truth was… feeling disconnected from the moment was something that happened a lot. Out of body experiences like this were surprising common. It was just getting swept up into thought as some vague idea was forming in the back of your mind. You couldn’t articulate it quite yet, but you just started vaguely drawing something on your thigh. You were pulled out when you heard Jasmine say your name and the bubble broke. You blinked before looking up and realized the stunned look on her face. “Sorry,” you said, the apology instinctive. “Just… got distracted.”

A pause before she said softly, “I didn’t know you knew how to draw.”

“I didn’t know you knew how to draw either,” you said as you awkwardly put your pen away, a flush on your face. “Suppose we’re both artists, then.”

It was such an awkward pause. There were a lot of unspoken things in the air. You supposed the more that you thought about it, the more you could’ve reached out. You could’ve tried to stay in touch with Jasmine. But you hadn’t. Neither of you made the effort. You could understand the effort behind this whole trip. And you found yourself grateful for the slow pace you were moving at. Once it was over, you couldn’t go back to this moment. Savoring the moment seemed like the obvious thing to do but it was rather hard to do. The more you try to hold onto to a moment, the more it vanished like sand between your fingertips.

You couldn’t figure out how you ended up back at the apartment you were sharing with Pippa. It was empty, as it had been for the past few weeks around this time. You’d gotten used to the emptiness the way one got used to an unpleasant smell. You’d never really been alone before. In Los Angeles, you shared your apartment with two other roommates and usually at least one of them was home. You supposed at least it was better than coming home to your parents screaming at each other and threatening to leave… or damage property, at the very least. When comparing the alone time to that, it wasn’t so bad. You supposed it was all about context.

The bed beckoned and you ended up changing into pajamas, wiping your makeup off and pulling your thick curls back into a high ponytail to keep the hair off your neck. It was still warm but you noticed Pippa had set up a fan in your room in your absence. It was a sweet gesture and you overthought what it meant – just something that your mind tended to do. You got lost in a first draft, words spilling out easier than they ever had.

You barely noticed the hours flying by as you wrote, captive in your own world. It became easier to float away. The city enveloped you like magic, holding you captive and creating an entire world around you. When the front door slammed, you jumped half a foot into the air and glanced at the clock. It was midnight. Suddenly the exhaustion set in and you set aside the laptop as you stretched out on the bed. If you didn’t go greet Pippa, you wouldn’t see her again until Monday. “Pip,” you said, a bright grin on your face. “It’s so good to see you again.”

She was clearly just as bleary eyed as you but grinned at you regardless, pulling you into a tight hug. Her earthy scent filled your senses. “It’s getting insane at previews,” she said. “Almost every seat is filled. It’s getting nerve wracking. I don’t know how I’m going to do when I know you’re in the audience at the premiere.”

You flushed. “I’m sure you’re going to be amazing,” you said with a grin. “I can’t imagine you being anything other than amazing. Plus we get to go home together after the show.”

Pippa smirked. “You may have to let me get to second base,” she teased. “After all, I could end up going home with a hot date instead of you.”

“Please,” you said with a bright grin as you pulled away. “We both know I’m going to be the hottest date to have at the premiere. You might have to fight for my hand.”

“In that case, I might have to fight Lin for the right to take you home,” she said with a grin, bumping against you as she headed off to the kitchen. “How far have you two even gotten, anyway? There’s a pool going on. I’ve got ten bucks on second base.”

You made a face. “Sorry, you’re betting on my love life?”

“Sure,” she says with a bright grin as she gets herself some of the cashews from the cabinet and a sparkling water out of the fridge. “Why? Don’t tell me I’m losing ten bucks.”

“Erm, kinda,” you said, your cheeks feeling like they were on fire. “I mean, I sorta… listen, when your mom was a teen mom… and just… okay?”

Pippa’s jaw dropped and she looked oddly delighted. “You’re a virgin!”

“I did not say that,” you said, your eyes wide. “But yeah, kinda. I just… didn’t want to end up making a mistake. Like, I grew up watching my parents argue and fight over money and they didn’t exactly have a stable life. I just… didn’t want that to me. And the easiest way was… well, to not… do anything that could lead to having a kid.”

“No, it’s okay,” she said with a grin. “You just… should tell Lin. Cause I mean… it’s better that he knows that you wanna wait before things get hot and heavy, you know what I mean?”

“What if he dumps me? I mean… other guys…”

“Lin’s not other guys,” Pippa said with a roll of her eyes as she takes a swig of her water. “He’ll be cool about it. And if it he isn’t… Jas and I will beat his ass. But don’t worry. Lin won’t dump you just cause you don’t want to fuck like… right off the bat. And he’s a massive romantic anyway. Dumping you cause you wanna wait is like… so unromantic.”

Before you could even comment on the last part, Pippa walked off and left you with a mix of confusing thoughts.

The next day, you decided that the best way to deal with this was to talk with Jasmine. It was the last thing you wanted to do, but you felt that Jasmine would give the best advice on this. You had texted Jasmine that you wanted to talk to her about what to do and she gave you the address of some café near the Richard Rogers. You were kind of were surprised by how busy it was and how difficult it was to find Jasmine in the tiny café. “Sorry,” she said with a bright grin. “A lot of the people here are trying to track down the cast. Try not to draw attention to us.”

“So… this musical… it’s a bit of a bigger deal than you, Pip, and Lin lead on, huh,” you asked as you noticed that Jasmine remembered how you liked your coffee from years ago. You didn’t take your coffee like that anymore, but you were touched that she remembered. “Can’t believe I now have a famous grandfather anda famous aunt. You better hype my book when I finish writing it.”

Jasmine grinned. “You probably won’t even need us to hype it,” she teases with a bright grin. “I’ve read some of your early essays – you’ve got the talent. So what did you want to meet about?”

It was a strange feeling that you took a moment to bask in – the feeling of knowing Jasmine but also not really knowing her. Knowing that she knew you but didn’t really know you. You wondered how you would describe the feeling. And it also felt nice that she remembered reading your essays before she disappeared from your life. “I just… Look, don’t freak out about this but like… I sort of… need to tell Lin something kind of important. Sort of… sex life related?”

She made a face. “Ew,” she said. “So not the kind of thing I wanna hear my niece talk about.”

You didn’t blame her for that. You didn’t want to discuss this with your aunt either but desperate times and everything. “Er, does it help that the thing I need to tell him is that I’m a virgin?”

“Sort of,” she grumbles as she takes a bite out of the sandwich she’d ordered for herself. “So why are you telling him this? Also… is there any reason you decided to not have sex by now? Like… religious pact with God? Oh, are you like… that thing where you don’t feel sexual attraction? Asexual!”

You felt your cheeks get hot again. “No to either of those things,” you hurried out. “Like… I mean, I’m not exactly straight but… I just didn’t want to get distracted from my studies. And after growing up with mom and dad… you saw how it was. I didn’t want…. a kid growing up feeling like a mistake.”

“Makes sense,” she said with a shrug. “Doesn’t explain why you didn’t just lose your v card to a girl but whatever. More power to you.”

“Jas,” you hissed, nearly tipping over your coffee cup in shock. You didn’t often dwell on this – it was just something that was a fact of your life. Telling people seemed strange – normally it was something that came up on the third date and then you never saw the guy again. “I just… I’d rather not stay on this topic like that. I just… want to know how you think I should tell Lin. Like, I don’t want him to think it’s because I’m a prude or something. Or that I never want to have sex, just that… I don’t want to rush into it.”

She snorts. “Tell him on a fancy date,” she said simply. “Like… opera or something. No one’s allowed to make a scene on a fancy date. It’s like… social convention. That way you can get it out the way and hey, you could do it at the MET. Get the seventh envelope done while you’re at it.”

“What if he dumps me?”

This time she rolled her eyes. “If he dumps you over this, tell me and I’ll personally beat his ass. But I doubt he’s going to dump you. He’s too much of a nice guy.”

You had experience with nice guys before. Nice guys took you on a pity date and decided that it wasn’t worth waiting around for you to be ready to have sex. Still, you decided it would be worth telling him if only so he wasn’t surprised when you decided to stop when things got hot and heavy. So you called him, grinning the whole conversation as you asked him if he’d like to go to the opera with you. He mentioned having a night off and you agreed to see him Tuesday.

By the time Tuesday rolled around, you were regretting agreeing to going out with Lin again at all. You were scared and worried. It seemed like everything that could go wrong had played out in your head. You woke up from dreams where Lin just ditches you for someone else… thinner and blonder. Or someone who was less of a stick in the mud. Or someone more adventurous. Your first thought was that he can’t break up with you if he never sees you again. How the logistics of it would work didn’t make sense, of course, but you were on anxiety brain.

The brochure for something going on later in New York City (you hadn’t paid attention to what it said) ended up in a small shredded pile in your lap as you tried to remember the exact steps that Google Maps had told you to take to get from Pippa’s apartment to the MET. You wondered if it would be so bad if you called Lin and told him oh no, you got lost and couldn’t make it. You nervously ran your hands through your curls, putting your hair up and taking it down repeatedly until you transferred trains.

It didn’t seem like this long of a trip the last time you went but it seemed like it stretched on forever. You picked at the skin of your thumb, wondering how you bring up this subject in the first place. It didn’t seem like a casual enough subject to just randomly blurt out. You sighed deeply when you realized you were already there – how had it felt like ages yet like nothing at all? You were out of time to think of how to delicately approach the subject. Your heart was pounding and you smoothed the skirt out on your dress as you got off at your stop – Lincoln Center. Lin had suggested the two of you meet at that stop and you hadn’t stop to think about how it didn’t offer you the chance to mentally prepare at seeing him.

He was devastatingly handsome. Of course he was – that hadn’t changed. He never stopped looking so handsome and it drove you crazy. “Hi,” was all you managed to breathe out. Nerves were getting to you.

He didn’t seem to mind that at all. He had that typical easy-going grin that you were starting to associate with him. You noted that he seemed to look a little more tired than last time. You imagined he wasn’t getting much sleep and you had an overwhelming urge to tuck him in for a nap. It was irrational. He was a grown adult. If he wanted a nap, he would’ve had a nap. “Hi,” he replied as he took your arm, leading the way. Which was good because if you were honest, you were prone to getting lost in the city. “It’s pretty hot that you took initiative.”

Of course he was teasing. That didn’t stop the heat rising to your cheeks or the forced laughter coming out and you cringed internally at it. You swore up and down it sounded like a horse’s laugh but Lin was clearly charmed. He’d say that it was beautiful. “I mean, my aunt was pretty specific in her letters about what I need to do,” you rambled. “Kind of still owe her a thank you, I mean…”

He cut you off with a kiss and you melted into it. It was easy to melt into his kisses, you were discovering. And you craved them the way one craved sweets. When he pulled away, you were grinning as his hand moved to grasp yours. “That reminds me that I still haven’t thanked her for setting you up on this adventure that led to me getting to meet you.”

“If it helps, I haven’t thanked her yet either,” you said with a grin as he led the way to the MET. “I felt like… I’d thank her when I make it to the end of the adventure. I don’t know where it’s going… but it seems like it’s important.”

“Sometimes it’s more about the journey than where you’re going. Have you considered that maybe it’s just a journey and the outcome doesn’t mean that much?”

You considered that. A journey in which the path you took mattered more than the outcome seemed like a strange idea to process. The path you took from the very start of life seemed to have a very clear outcome. You went to school with the intent of passing, getting every good grade you possibly could to go to college. College was an escape from the fighting at home. You chose English because you fancied yourself a good teacher or even a novelist. You decided it was a good solid degree plan because the degree mattered more than what it was in. “Outcome always means something, though. If you don’t want to end up somewhere, you wouldn’t take a certain path.”

He seemed surprised by this. “You’ve never done anything for the sake of doing something? Never went out just because it seems like it’s a fun thing to do?”

“That was always Jas’s territory,” you said slowly as he squeezes your hand. “I’ve always been the boring one. She was the one who encouraged me to go out, who made the plans and cared more about the journey. I’ve… always thought about where it goes. Getting on a plane because aunt Jas told me to do it is more of… an example of the way our dynamic always worked.”

The thing you’d discovered with Lin is that he was relatively easy going and rarely suggested that the way you and Jas interacted was odd. Even after discovering Jas’s niece was closer to her in age than he expected, he simply rolled with it and never once made it weird. You liked that about him. You also liked how he seemed to be willing to bounce ideas back and forth, not once acting like anything you said might be stupid. And even now as you talked over the philosophical question of if the path matters more than the outcome, he never once belittled you despite disagreeing with you.

And somehow, he managed to get you to see his side of things. It wasn’t that he changed your mind (you still felt the outcome mattered when picking a path to journey on), but rather he helped you see what the point of a journey was. You’d almost forgotten the important part of what you wanted to do on this date until things started to get steamy with Lin. His lips felt so good against yours and then his hand was on your chest, his other firm on your hip and pulling you to him.

You didn’t know how you ended up in the back of the Uber pressed to him and you couldn’t recall what the opera was even about. All you could think about was how easy it would be let him take you home. It was easy to get wrapped up in the feeling of his lips against your neck, the feeling of his facial hair scruffing against your jawline. And then you realized what going home with Lin would entail, you pulled away. “Sorry,” you half yelped. “I just… I kind of… never done this before?”

He paused and you prepared for the break up. “You’re… a virgin?”

It took a minute before you found your voice again. “Yes.” You wished the earth would swallow you up so you could escape the look he was giving you. You wondered what he was thinking. And before you could stop yourself, you found yourself giving a word vomit. “Not because I… don’t want to or anything like that. I mean, I don’t know if I want to I’ve never even tried it before. Just that… it’s a huge deal and I don’t want to end up having kids by accident with the wrong person. Not that I think that you wouldn’t use protection or anything, I mean, I’m on the pill but that’s because I have these awful… you know what, that’s not romantic or anything sexy –”

Before you knew it, he cut you off and cupped you cheek. The minute you looked into his eyes, you knew he wasn’t going to dump you. “So did you want to go home with me still or did you want to continue to wait?”

“I… wait,” you admitted. “I just… I’m not a fast kind of person. Not to say that girls who are fast aren’t… you know what I mean?”

He laughs and nods. “I know what you mean, don’t worry,” he said before kissing your cheek and telling the taxi driver Pippa’s address. “I’ll call you later.”

Pippa, as it turned out, was more than willing to go see you after the fight with your aunt. She you let you cry on her shoulder as you ran through everything, too upset to really be unbiased in your retell-ing. She soothed you, redirecting your complaints about your aunt into a more productive way. You didn’t even realize when you were finally telling the story in a calm, collected manner that was more accurate to reality. “I just don’t understand why she got so upset about me buying a phone. I mean, it’s not like we’re in 2005 anymore! I haven’t even seen a payphone anywhere.”

“I agree that it’s ridiculous to spend a whole trip without access to a phone,” she said softly, rubbing your arm. “However, it’s probably important to your aunt in some way. I’m sure she’ll calm down and understand where you’re coming from. Perhaps a compromise can be reached in some way.”

“She didn’t even show up to any of my graduations,” you said in frustration. “She had three chances to.”

“But it’s already happened,” Pippa reminds you softly. “You opened those letters and still decided to go on this trip knowing that. You should at least try to see her side of things.”

It was one of those things where you were grateful that at least you had a friend on your side. You were still livid with Jasmine over the fight but as you thought more and more about it, the more it was ridiculous that you got upset that she didn't come to those graduations. After all... she had her own things going on. Which you still didn't know anything about. You were upset that she hadn't told you what she was doing but you realized that you had no right to pry into your aunt's life. Just be-cause you two had grown up like sisters didn't make you sisters.

There should be a line between an aunt and niece. At least, you assumed that was the case. You'd never really gotten the chance to have Jasmine as an aunt – she'd always been a sister.

And when you finally got to go on your second date with Lin, you managed to spill almost every-thing out and what was supposed to be a quick lunch trip quickly had you losing track of the conversation as it spun away from you. “I mean, I've only ever known her as an aunt. But I just... grew up with her like a sister. And with my mom treating her like she's a niece – someone to be in charge of. So it's weird when Aunt Jas acts like an adult, I guess.”

Lin seemed to think this over. “I mean, I've only ever know your aunt as an adult,” he pointed out with a grin. The grin seemed to falter when you glared at him. “Alright, alright. No jokes. So the whole thing started cause I texted you and she got upset that you had your phone with you?”

“I mean, she did ask that I didn't bring any electronics with me. Soaking up the city without any sort of filter through it and whatnot,” you said, actually not entirely sure if you were right about that or not. Jasmine's first letter had been so vague – it had just said you were going on an adventure. “I mean, I think about it in terms of the MET experience. I don't think it would've been the same if I'd had access to a phone. It was like... a moment.”

Lin nodded. You couldn't tell if it was because he understood what you were saying or because he was on your aunt's side regarding the phone. “So do you still have the original letter,” he asked as you took a sip of your coffee – the ridiculously sweet coffee with over nine sugars that he had scrunched his nose up despite putting five sugars in his own coffee. You nodded as you reached into your purse, pulling the letter that you had wrapped around the stack of thirteen envelopes in the larger manila envelope out and handing it over to him. You weren't even sure why you had handed it over instantly without any questions, but you had. The first letter was short – almost as short as the very first envelope's letter. “There's nothing in here that says you couldn't buy a phone here in New York. It just says not to bring a phone.”

You nodded as you took a sip of your coffee, shrugging. “I guess she just wanted the spirit of it,” you said with a sigh as you set your coffee down to pull your hair back. “And maybe I did violate some spirit of it but if I’m spending over a month in a city I don’t know, I at least need to be able to call mom or dad if something horrible happens to me.”

“That makes sense,” he says with a shrug. “In all honesty, can’t say I’m against you having a phone. Makes it easier to contact you. And how else was I supposed to know you were upset?”

“Oh, that’s easy,” you said with a bright grin. “I’d use smoke signals. You know, like the Native Americans used to do before cell phones.”

He grins and leans back in the booth, shaking his head. “You are something else,” he says, an arm casually wrapped around you. “So what are you going to do?”

“I wanted to go back to Los Angeles at first,” you said slowly, carefully taking in his face.  If he had any feelings on that, you couldn’t read them on his face. “But I started to think about it after I got… home. To Pippa’s. And I realized I called Pippa’s place home and that I had all these things planned for while I’m here and I thought… well I can’t just turn back and abandon everything. Not when I’ve come this far. I have to see this through, regardless of how angry I get.”

A pause hung in the air before he finally replied. “I’m glad you stayed.”

You overthought a lot. It was the drawback of being a writer and someone who cared a whole lot about the world around you. You kept at it, thinking heavily about if he really meant it when he said he was glad you stayed. You thought about his facial expressions, wondering how you’d write it down. You thought about his smile and it stayed there in your mind. He’d kissed you again before you left to head back home and he left for something related to the musical. You were alone when you got back to the apartment and it gave you time to pull the laptop out of your nightstand table and set it up.

When it came to life, you wondered what to do first. The most obvious: email your mother and ask her to sublet your apartment in Los Angeles. It took a remarkably long time to craft that email. You didn’t know how to explain being out of touch for a full month – you rarely went without contacting your mother. You knew saying you left your laptop and cell at home wouldn’t work. She’d remind you of the internet at the library and landlines. So you simply said you got caught up in the city and gave her your new cell phone number.

With that out of the way, you pulled the sixth envelope out of your purse and stared it down. It was a tiny drawing of some museum, that much you could tell. As to what museum, you couldn’t figure it out. Part of you wondered what the “right time” would be. You thought it might hit you but you couldn’t seem to figure out what that would feel like. Would it be wrong to open the envelope if it didn’t feel like the right time?

If you were fighting with Jasmine, maybe an interest in the adventure she’d laid out for you would help. You didn’t want her to think you didn’t appreciate this level of effort she’d gone through. Even so, you were apprehensive. You hadn’t realized how long you had gotten lost in thought until the front door unlocked and you knew what that meant: Pippa was home. It had to be late in that case. You got up off the bed to go say hello, crossing your arms across your chest awkwardly as you realized how tired Pippa looked. Regardless, her eyes brightened up instantly when she saw you and rushed over to pull you into a very tight hug. You were starting to get used to Pippa’s hugs. “I heard you saw Lin earlier,” she said. “Why didn’t you tell me you were considering leaving?”

She sounded hurt, you realized. You felt guilty – you didn’t mean to hurt Pippa. Much like you didn’t mean to hurt your aunt’s feelings either. You wondered how much of a mess you could make on one trip. “I just… was angry. I didn’t really want to leave.”

“I knew you were angry but you didn’t say you were that angry,” she said softly as she pulled away, pulling you over to the couch and insisting on making tea for the both of you despite your protests about how you didn’t want to trouble you. “It’s honestly no trouble! I like to have tea post show, especially with some honey. Good for the vocals.” You didn’t know enough about singing to argue against that. “So we’re going to have tea and we’re going to talk.”

You sighed as you leaned back in the couch, ruffling your hair. “I don’t know,” you said softly. “I keep thinking about how envelope six is just waiting for me to open but I don’t know if I should open it now or wait until I smooth things out with aunt Jas.”

“When did envelope five say to open the next envelope,” she asked as she brought you a cup of tea in the mug you’d gotten attached to. It was such a simple gesture but spoke volumes – you paused and got lost in thought again until Pippa spoke. “Y/N. When did it say to open the next envelope?”

You snapped out of it as your fingers wrapped around the warm mug and could feel that your eyes had went wide. “Sorry… just… got lost in thought,” you said softly as you took a sip of the tea. Made exactly how you like it too – earl grey tea with honey and sugar. “It just said whenever I felt it was appropriate and that I’d ‘know’.”

“So do you think now is the right time?”

It was a simple question that made you hyperaware of the moment. The pale pink walls that were the result of a woman living her own, the softness of the mahogany brown couch with the hot pink throw pillows. The bar that separated the kitchen from the living room behind you. It was like you’d suddenly been anchored into reality. You recognized the feeling – it was similar to the MET’s feeling. There was an awareness this moment must come to an end at some point, but it was a comfortable awareness. “I don’t know. I guess if I’m not sure, that means it’s not the right moment, right?”

She nodded slowly as she sipped on her tea. You never realized how well pink and brown complimented her until just now. You briefly wondered how you’d describe her in a book. It was like your fingers were itching to write something down. “If you aren’t sure if it’s the right moment, maybe you need to wait then.”

“But what if I’m never sure,” you asked as the feeling of worry washed over and it became the only emotion you could immediately identify. You were certain there were other feelings, but worry was so overwhelming that you wanted to get it out as quickly as possible and address the other feelings later. “What if I’m supposed to be getting through these envelopes faster than I’m getting through it? What if I just stall the adventure out here because I can’t bring myself to open the next envelope?”

“Calm down,” she said in surprise and you had just realized you were starting to get a little hysterical over this. Only Jasmine had the power to make you this worried, you supposed. “If you have to stay longer, I’m sure Jas won’t mind. Neither will Lin,” she said with a teasing grin and you felt your cheeks get hot again. “I’m sure the adventure won’t stall out. You’ll figure out when you’re ready to continue. For now, it’s about the journey.”

You were still worried as you took a sip of your tea, thinking about how many times you’d been scared to take a jump. “I’ve always been scared of heights,” you blurted out as Pippa raised her brows. It seemed like she wanted to know where you were going with this so you took her silence as permission to continue. “Aunt Jas took me sky diving once. I couldn’t summon the guts to jump off the plane and she jumped without me. I met her on the ground and she was talking a million miles an hour, running off pure adrenaline. She told me how exciting it was and I felt jealous of that. It was my own fault I missed my chance to do. I was so scared of heights, so scared that something would go wrong that I didn’t take the leap. So… what if I miss my chance at something amazing because I’m never ready?”

“You’ll figure it out,” she says in an assuring manner as she takes your hand. “For now, it’s fine to go at your own pace. But if you’re that worried, start thinking about what you think would be a good moment.”

It took you days before you finally figured out the right time. You heard thunder for the first-time a while outside the apartment. The last time you heard thunder was before your fight with Jasmine. You wondered if it was a bad sign but the rain was soothing enough. You finally grabbed the letter, slicing it open with a letter opener and setting the envelope aside. A photo of you as a baby in the arms of your mother with your father was inside. You hadn’t seen either of them look this happy in a long time and were instantly grateful to your aunt that she kept it.

Honey Bun, As I’ve been writing these letters, I’ve sort of discovered a lot of things about myself. I’ve discovered a lot of things about our family too. I started a lot of letters you didn’t see before these thirteen. After a while, I realized that what I want to tell you isn’t something you can tell in a single letter and it’s not something you just drop on someone. There’s a story, an adventure involved. I had to share the adventure I went on with you.

Don’t worry – I’m perfectly healthy and I’m not going to reveal I’m your sister for reals and not your aunt. That’s not the surprise twist we’re heading to. I just didn’t want you to open the letter and find out exactly what I wanted to tell you. I wanted to see you again, to get to know you again like we used to be. I want to be your sister again and the one you tell all your secrets again so it feels more natural. Please don’t hate me when you reach the end of this story.

I think a lot about how our family is screwed-up in a lot of ways but I’m also grateful for what we have. It might be weird and it might be different but it’s our family. I’m glad to be part of it with you. I hope that at the end of this trip, you and I can be best friends again. Like we were growing up. I missed you a lot and I wanted to tell you everything that was going along before remembering my mistake. That I had left and never once contacted you, never once thought that you might want to talk to me again. I left no way of contact. I’m sorry about that.

Not to switch the topic abruptly after dropping all those hints about where we’re going, but I've always wanted to see the Smithsonian. But here's the thing about it: it's the biggest museum in the world. You'd need a week to see the entire thing. It's impossible to go in and not want to see as much as you can. I think that impossible is a challenge, however. The idea of impossibility is something that we impose upon ourselves, restricting ourselves.

When we say “never” about something, we close that door. You always said you’d never fly anywhere and yet… I’m assuming you did. You might not have. If you say you’ll never fall in love, you’ll never notice what’s right in front of you. And that’s something we shouldn’t do. We should be open to possibilities, setting our minds on something that we can do. The Smithsonian has all the impossibilities. When man first took the skies and when we first walked on the moon before we ever had laptops or cell phones.

There’s a train from New York City to DC that only takes three and a half hours. If we leave early in the morning, we can be at the Smithsonian by nine and see how much of it we can see in one day. I know you love stars – we can start with the space exploration exhibit. Let me know when you’re ready to go visit. You may open envelope seven as soon as we’re on the train home.

All my love, Aunt Jas

You read the letter over twice, three times, four times. Each time you didn’t know how you were going to proceed forward with this letter. If you hadn’t gotten in a fight with Jasmine, you could have called her for her next day off and went that day. As it stood, you didn’t know how best to approach her about doing this task. It seemed like a task destined to stall you out and keep you stuck on it for a long time. You sighed as you set the letter aside, puling your laptop out again as you decided it might be best to email Lissa and talk things out with her. You typed a quick email updating her about the master’s, about being in New York City and catching up with your aunt, apologizing for talking so long to send an email and explaining the first letter out. Before you could chicken out, you hit send and stretched after as you looked around the room.

The room was already starting to bear the signs of your life here. Your journal was on the dresser next to the premiere ticket for Hamilton. The tickets you used for the MET were waiting to put in some scrapbook or at least tucked inside your journal. Flowers were in a vase that looked like the needed changing out and sat next to a book you’d started reading. The corkboard in the room was already pinned with letters and the notes from Pippa about grocery shopping. You’d even fully unpacked your suitcase and put everything away in the dresser and closet. It was starting to feel more like home and you wondered if you would even want to go back to Los Angeles when everything was said and done.

It was true that the first arrival into New York City had been overwhelming and a shock but now you’d gotten used to it. You’d gotten used to the city the same way one might settle into a relationship. Being settled in didn’t seem so bad but you wondered what would come next when it was all over. You had to think of what you were going to do because you didn’t know if Pippa would always let you stay rent free or would expect you to start splitting rent with her at some point. Come to think of it, you weren’t even certain how much rent on a place like this was. While you were deep in thought, you heard a ping from your laptop that let you know that Lissa had replied back. It was rather long – you’d forgotten how talkative Lissa could be when she put her mind to it.

What jumped out to you instantly was how Lissa was willing to overlook that you took off to New York City without telling her anything. She’d always been understanding but you realized that you missed Lissa something fierce. You instantly wondered if she’d want a trip out to here to hang out. You’d never asked Jasmine if you could bring friends along. Lissa advised you to attempt to see things from Jasmine’s point of view, to talk to Jasmine with an understanding that you didn’t make any attempt to reach out either. It was hard to ignore that advice when it was quite reasonable. You wondered how much resentment you had buried away, only for it to fester and grow. Lissa even reminded you of your many rants about your aunt in college, causing you to cringe with regret. You realized that perhaps you had been a little harsh and that maybe she had some right to be upset about you not experiencing the trip the way she had planned.

The more you reflected, the more you realized how much effort and love that must have went into this trip. Not only that, you aunt had clearly sunk quite a bit of money into this trip without any awareness if it would ever have a return on investment. You decided that it would be best to wait until the day off tomorrow to go talk to your aunt but every second started to make you feel more and more anxious. That’s when you decided to reorganize the kitchen.

It was mind numbing, dull work. You reordered the spices, cleaned the stove top, moved the bread and tortillas around. The more you worked, the more it was easier to focus on your thoughts running wild. You thought back on home, on your high school years. You contrasted and compared the situations, story ideas and concepts twirling around half baked in your head. Finally you slammed one of the cabinets shut in frustration that nothing was springing forward fully formed in your head. You had nothing to redirect to, no creative outlet to focus on when things slowed or when you wanted to procrastinate on something. It used to be easy to think of some new idea. Right now, you had no choice but focus on the letters.

You groaned. The door slammed shut and you looked up from the oven that you had intently been scrubbing clean. “Pippa?”

“With company,” she called from the front door as you closed the oven, deciding to finish it later. “Are you decent?”

“Yeah,” you said as you headed out into the living room, wishing you were a little less greasy from all the cleaning. And you felt your cheeks heat up when you saw who the company was. “Aunt Jas? What are you doing here?”

Pippa smiled as she announced she was tired and that she was going to go bed. You were slightly annoyed, feeling ambushed and while you were going to apologize to Jasmine, with her standing in front that didn’t seem like a good idea anymore. For a few moments, it was awkward. Silence hung in the air and if you weren’t in New York City, you’d wager that you’d be able to hear your heart race. “I’m sorry,” Jasmine finally said, much to your surprise. “It’s unfair of me to dictate how you experience your trip and I mean, you have every right to get a cell phone so you can call home.”

“No,” you said as Jasmine rambled, tears springing to your eyes. You hated seeing Jasmine look this vulnerable – it didn’t sit right on her. She was the brave one, the one who leapt out of the plane while you stayed behind. It hurt your heart to see her like this. “No, you were upset for a reason. I mean, you sank so much time and money into this experience for me. You had an idea on how this trip should go. I should’ve said something about needing a phone to you first. I mean, you flew me all the way out and I haven’t even seen you that much!”

She flung her arms around you and to your great surprise, you hugged her back on instinct. “We both really messed this up, haven’t we,” she asked, and your heart tugged at how upset she was. “I’m so sorry that I freaked on you like that. It’s your first time here in New York and I haven’t been able to hang out with you at all.”

You paused when you broke away from the hug, realizing that after all this time, you’d never seen your aunt be this human before. You’d always viewed her in some impossible light. The superhero who swung in to save the day. The person with all the right answers. With how she looked, it was rather clear that she was just as lost and confused as you were. “I… sort of opened the next envelope,” you admitted. “Envelope six. Maybe… we should take that opportunity to get to hang out soon?”

Her grin was every bit as familiar as your childhood home. “Of course. We can do it Sunday.”

When you woke up on Sunday, it was hot. It’d been hot for a while, but this could rival Los Angeles’s heat. You groaned as you realized you sweated onto your pillow and sat up to pull you hair up off your neck. While you liked the sun and laying on a beach or lounging next to a pool, there was something icky about waking up in a pool of sweat. You made a mental note to change the sheets as you got up, calling out to Pippa. “Is there an A/C around here?”

Pippa emerged from her room, looking every bit as hot and uncomfortable as you were despite the tank top and short shorts. “There was at one point,” she grumbled as she moved over to the kitchen, turning on the cold water and sticking her face under the tap. “Unfortunately, it broke sometime a few weeks ago.”

“Broke,” you asked, somewhat stunned. The idea of letting an A/C unit go unfixed was unheard of to you. “What do you mean broke? Why hasn’t the super done anything? It’s been ridiculous hot for weeks now!”

“Because it doesn’t get this hot, usually,” Pippa said as she moved away from the sink, her hair drip-ping wet and sticking to her face. “It’s probably getting fixed and will be fixed by the end of the week. But right now, there’s no A/C.”

You swore under your breath. At least you wouldn’t be stuck in the apartment while the A/C was fixed. “Well, I’m going to go shower and go meet my aunt at the train station.”

“Oh? Where are you and Jas going,” she asked casually as she started setting up fans.

“DC,” you replied as you headed back to your room. “We’re going to see the Smithsonian.”

“Have fun,” she called after you.

A quick cold shower was incredible in this heat. You opted out of heat treatment for your curls, instead pulling them back into a quick messy bun. You decided on a plain tank top and shorts to better attack the heat, grabbing some water as you headed out down to the station. Your phone was tucked in your back pocket but on silent this time. You didn’t want any reason to fight with Jasmine today. It hurt your heart when you saw your aunt and realized that she still looked better than you could ever hope to look. You frowned – you were supposed to getting along with your aunt so you squashed your jealousy and instead hugged her. “So…”

She merely nodded as the both of you boarded the train. The train ride was long but at least there was air conditioning. And you were able to concentrate on what was happening rather than how miserably hot it was. The countryside whizzed by outside the windows. For once, Jasmine was quiet. Normally she’d talk to you at a mile a minute about something. That was probably your fault. In reality, it was no one’s fault and everyone’s fault. You had both fallen apart and hadn’t spoken to each other in years – it was natural things were awkward. It was natural that things hadn’t picked up exactly where you left off with Jasmine when there was still so much to work through. And that’s when you realized that you never worked out with Jasmine what went wrong with your mother.

If you never talked it out with Jasmine, where would that leave the two of you? It was easy to think about when you were just children, playing with barbies and the ease of never wondering about the future. But now you were wrapped up in the future and where it leads. You were lost – there was no other word for that feeling. The arrival in DC felt oddly strange – you expected it to feel like a crescendo to something. You expected it to feel like some scene out of movie. Oddly, it felt ordinary.

You wondered what made that feeling – the feeling of as if something happened. The train station looked exactly like the train station you just left in New York City. Jasmine took your hand and you mentally compared the feeling to when you saw her last when you were fifteen. There was little difference between the feelings of the hands – the same weight, the same fit. It still felt awkward as the Uber arrived and it continued to feel awkward as you rode in silence still.

The movie feeling hit you when you stepped out of the Uber and realized what Jasmine meant in her letter about the Smithsonian being massive. It was one thing to know that the Smithsonian housed the history of flight, the giant marble statue of Abraham Lincoln, and Dorthy’s shoes from the Wizard of OZ. It was another to see the massive museum sprawled out in front of you. “Close your mouth,” Jasmine teased. “You’ll catch flies.”

You’d barely noticed your jaw had dropped. There was no way the two of you could see everything. “Where are we going to start?”

“You like space,” she said simply as she walked up the steps, well aware you would follow. “Let’s start there.”

You were in awe as you walked through the Air and Space exhibit – the architecture and layout of the museum was throwing you. You hadn’t realized that it was a massive campus made up several museums. At some point, Jasmine decided to break the ice. “So… heard you’ve been seeing Lin.”

This was uncharted territory. Jasmine had no reason to talk boys with you before. In high school, she only knew the date you’d taken to homecoming. And you didn’t even like him that much. “Er, yeah,” you said as you turned your attention to the voyager recording. “It’s really because of the envelope you did. I mean… I wouldn’t have done it otherwise.”

She looked pleased with herself. “Well, I was hoping that you’d find someone to fill the time when I can’t hang out with you,” she remarked. “But you went and found a guy with the same terrible schedule as I do.” It was clear from the grin on her face she was teasing you. “He can’t shut up about you, you know.”

You felt your cheeks get hot and once again, you were grateful that your blushing wasn’t noticeable. “Really?”

She nodded, the two of you starting to wander away. You only took a moment to note the strange exhibit around you – you didn’t quite have the words for it. “Yeah. He keeps asking me for more details about you. I feel bad that I can’t help him out!”

For the first time in a while, you laughed. It was easy to laugh at that in particular – it felt natural to laugh at that. “Well, now you’ve got a chance to get to know the grown up me,” you said as you wrapped your arm around Jasmine’s shoulders, leaning on her. “We should probably be spending more time together, considering this is supposed to be a bonding trip.”

“Yeah,” she said, deep in thought. A pause hanged in the air before she finally said, “Do you know why Anya doesn’t talk to dad that much?”

You shook your head. “I never got to see grandpa that much and mom didn’t talk about him much.”

Jasmine paused. “Kinda hate it when you address them like that,” she finally said with a soft laugh. “It makes it harder to talk about this cause it really reminds me… Anya’s your mom.” She paused again, and you felt like telling her to get on with it. “Dad offered Anya money for an abortion when he found out about the pregnancy. He didn’t want her making… the same mistake he made with her, I guess.”

It took a while to understand what Jasmine was saying. When it finally sank it, you could feel it deep in your heart. You could feel it tearing apart at your very seams. “Grandpa didn’t want me?”

“It’s not that he didn’t want you,” she said with a sigh. “It’s that he loves Anya very much… and he knew what a big deal a kid at a young age is. Anya’s done well but… most of dad’s desire to help was begging her to come back home and leave Dimitro.”

“But he’s never visited,” you said, instinct to defend your father there despite knowing that your mother would probably be happier without your dad around. “How can he possibly know that’s the right choice to make? Maybe if he helped more, they wouldn’t be fighting about money all the time!”

“Well, yes,” Jasmine said slowly. “Or they could be fighting about something else. Dimitro… he isn’t always the greatest man. He can be selfish and you were rather young but… he cheated on Anya with someone else. And dad didn’t want Anya staying with someone who could hurt her like that.”

Sometimes people only saw the surface. The relationship that you were supposed to have with Adam was the hashtag relationship goals with the perfect Instagram feed of staged couple photos. Five years ago, you missed your flight and met Adam in JFK while waiting for the next flight back to your hometown. You had hit it off, exchanged numbers, and you claimed it was love at first sight. You had both spent the next few hours until your rebooked flight talking and it was like no time passed at all. Sometimes you wished you were still living in that moment. It was easy.

When you landed in your hometown, you had turned your phone back on to fifty missed messages – all from Adam. You laughed it off whenever telling that part of the story even though it had made you uneasy at the time. Sure, Adam was intense but it was just part of the fairytale charm. That was what you told everyone, anyway. You never mentioned the part where the intense level of messages never stopped, that you sometimes muted him simply because it became too overwhelming, that the reason you turned off read receipts was because he’d get angry when you didn’t respond right away.

You found yourself walking around eggshells a year in. Everything seemed to set Adam off and every single dream of yours didn’t seem to matter half as much as Adam’s. He seemed disinterested in everything you had to say about your job and rather than end it, you decided it was best to try to stick it out. It was hard, but it seemed to stabilize out. One day he came home with flowers, apologizing for being distant and cooked you dinner. He was charming again, and you felt content in that. It had just been a rough patch. That’s what you had told yourself.

By now, it was too many years of investment to want to back out. The fights grew more intense, escalating and you found yourself scared every time the both of you fought. You didn’t like who you turned into when the two of you fought and you started to worry that if anyone knew about the fights, they’d think you were at fault somehow. It was a sinking feeling in your gut any time you shoved Adam off you, the worry that you were being the unreasonable shrew he accused you of. You cooked him dinner and apologized as you tended to his bruises, ignoring your own. Sometimes he grabbed you a little too roughly. That felt like a failure on your part too – you never told him upfront at the start that it hurt when he grabbed you like that.

You ended up getting a chance on your dreams. It was an ensemble role in a musical that seemed like an insane idea – the perfect thing to take your mind off your home life. You didn’t tell Adam about the part of being an alternate for the dual role of Peggy Schuyler and Maria Reynolds. You figured that the chances of taking on the role was astronomical. And for a few weeks of rehearsal, everything was good. Adam seemed calmer – you came home with dinner and he seemed in better spirits. You figured everything would turn around eventually. The show opened and Adam cheered you on, claiming that your bit part was the best part of the show. It was the first time he’d been so kind in ages and you got swept up in it. You should’ve known it was too good to last.

You made the mistake of coming home too early a few months in and you found out the reasoning behind Adam’s good mood. You felt your heart shattered into pieces. You started screaming at the strange girl in your apartment, yelling at her to get out and throwing a glass at the wall. Adam yelled at you for coming home early. Suddenly it was hyperreal – something had broken between the two of you ages ago. “You’re always going out of your way to hurt me,” the familiar accusation came from him. “You never think about how I feel! I was lonely and Sandra…”

For the first time in years, you weren’t having it. “So it’s my fault you decided what we had wasn’t worth fighting for?”

This time you remembered who threw the first punch, who had always thrown the first punch. It was a sickening realization you felt deep in the pit of your stomach. That you stood up for yourself and he tried to force you into submission. You let yourself black it out because you didn’t want to have been wrong like that. And for the first time in ages, you were willing to leave in the middle of a fight. You had always wanted to work it out but this time you found you no longer cared if it worked out. And he pulled you back so hard you could swear it felt like your arm was being ripped off.

You were late for work that day. You had done your best to cover up the bruise forming on your eye and you knew Adam would show up tonight to watch the show. It was just your luck that you were going on tonight as Maria. It was just your luck that Jasmine was sick, somehow the alternate had a family emergency, and the standby was also sick making you the one who went on. It was just your luck that you had a bad feeling Adam would show up, expecting you to still be in the chorus. You didn’t want anyone to know so you applied make up to bruises on your arm in the bathroom, realizing how dead in the eyes you looked as you methodically dabbed on the heavy theater make up. Suddenly you wondered if it was that obvious to everyone how you looked. You contemplated if they really did look that bad or if your imagination was making them look worse than they really are.

When you left the bathroom, you were yelled at by the tech crew for being late to get mic’ed up. You were yelled at for not having the wig on in a timely fashion. It was like it was time to yell at you for everything. And to be fair, you were late and they had no idea why. You forced a smile, apologized for your tardiness. You let it be your fault rather than admit to everyone in the crew that you had been so deeply wrong about the judge of character. Whatever happened was behind you and you plastered on the fake grin that served you well throughout the first half of the show’s run. You pretended to not notice Adam in the crowd, looking grumpier throughout the show.

The fake smile stayed as you chatted with everyone backstage, acting like there was nothing wrong. You were trying to steal yourself up for act two. Everyone knew how the story went and you could feel your heart fluttering. Lin, however, had other plans. “Your debut as a Schuyler sister went splendidly,” he said, pulling you up without much warning into a tight hug and you winced. You hadn’t realized how much your ribs hurt and you felt the bruises on your upper arm. “Wait, are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

You shook your head instantly. “I’m fine,” you lied instantly. “Just… you know. It’s hard work being on stage.”

Did he believe it? You weren’t sure. You left as quickly as you could, your heart in your throat. Playing out Maria’s story was easier than being yourself. You didn’t have to think about Adam watching your every move when you were concentrating on trying to hit the insane notes in Say No To This. You were all too willing to wrap yourself up in the feeling of Lin’s lips pressed hard against yours, how easy it was to get lost in the character. It let you ignore the pang in your heart at the line “please don’t leave me with him, I am helpless”. It let you keep your eyes on Lin rather than turning to Adam during that line. Moments faded away far too easily, and you found yourself taking the bow at the end of the act far sooner than you’d like. It was wondering how the five years changed you, how they’d changed Adam (had they? or was the wool finally off your eyes?), how they changed your relationship, and how they changed your career.

Your smile was wide, faker than reality tv. It hurt your cheeks and you could feel the bruise on your eye pulsating. You only had to make it out of this dress and back home. The more you thought about it, the more you wondered if Pippa would be willing to let you crash on her couch. You didn’t want to go back to Adam tonight and you had this sinking feeling of worry of what would happen with Adam. You didn’t want to be the cliché who went back to the man who hurt you. Then you realized – you had been that cliché. It was like tonight was the switch flipped on and you were seeing the past five years in perfect clarity.

The fight on the way home from your parents where he wanted you to stop seeing your parents two years ago suddenly was in a harsher context: he wanted you isolated. When he claimed your best friend was a possessive pyscho after she was begging you to leave him. The red flags clicked together. You found yourself shattered on the dressing room floor with the dress half pulled off and your wig in your hand while you realized you had no tears left to cry. That you cried everything you had over the past five years. So you pushed yourself up off the floor, yanking the dress off and pulling back on your street clothes before heading off to catch up with Pippa.

Unfortunately, it seemed today was actively rooting against you. When you arrived to the dressing room that Pippa, Renee, and Jasmine shared, Pippa was already gone, and you didn’t think Renee would want someone crashing on her couch when she already had a family to take care of. So when Renee asked if you needed anything, you said that you were good. You didn’t want to impose. You left their dressing room, wondering what you were going to do. You had a joint account with Adam and you were certain he’d cancel your debit card to keep you from going anywhere else.

The universe was kind sometimes, though. You ended up running into Lin on your way out and he seemed surprised. “Thought you would’ve gone home with Adam,” he said casually. “What are you still doing here?”

“I’m… not going home with Adam,” you said, hesitant to say anything. You figured you didn’t have to tell him anything beyond what he needed to know. “I’m… sort of thinking of ending it with Adam. It’s just… not working out.”

That seemed to surprise him. You supposed it would seem surprising to learn that the seemingly perfect couple was breaking up. “You know, you’re going to completely shattered the pool on when you and Adam are going to get engaged.” The remark was teasing as evidenced by his grin yet it still caused you to flinch. The smile slide off his face. “Is… is something wrong?”

You hesitated yet again. You didn’t want to spill your guts to anyone but at the same time… you didn’t have anyone else to talk to. “I haven’t talked to Amy in three years,” was the first thing you managed to say. “Three years ago, Amy begged me to leave Adam and instead of leaving Adam, I stopped talking to her because Adam… told me to. I mean, it seemed reasonable at the time. And I just… slowly started losing my entire friend group. I don’t think I have any friends outside of work and it’s all because I put my entire faith in Adam.”

He didn’t seem to know what to say to that. He made a gesture like he was going to hug you before pulling back. “Sorry,” he said. “So what are you going to do? Go to a hotel?”

“I… I can’t,” you said. “He… has control over the bank account. He’s probably cancelled my debit card by now.”

“I can pay for a hotel room for you, if you’d like?”

The offer was sweet and it wrenched in your gut. “I don’t want to put you out,” you said, not wanting to cry in front of Lin. “I’ll figure something out. I just… I don’t want anyone spending money on me because I was a terrible judge of character. And then too stupid to figure out that… something was obviously wrong.”

Lin went quiet before he said, “You aren’t stupid… or a terrible judge of character.”

“I let a guy abuse me for five years,” you said, your voice breaking. You hated crying, but you especially hated crying in front of other people. “I always thought I was better than that and now I’m the stupid idiot who let a guy hit her. And apologized to him for getting hit. I might as well have been telling people I walked into a door!”

He was alarmed and you instantly felt guilty for dumping it all on him. “It’s not your fault,” he said, the words of comfort easy and rational. In any normal situation, had this been happening to anyone else, you would have agreed with him. “You aren’t an idiot, either. You just… you wanted it to work out. It’s not your fault that it didn’t work out – it’s his. It’s one hundred percent his fault.” He made another motion before stepping back awkwardly. “Do you… mind if I hug you?”

It was so respectful that it just made you cry harder. “No,” you managed to get out and his arms wrapped around you almost instantly. You curled to him instinctively. “I’m sorry… it’s just… I apologized to him. Every time. He hit me… and I apologized to him for making him angry.”

“It’s okay,” Lin said as he rubbed your back. “What can I do to help if you won’t let me rent you a hotel room?”

“Just… hold me.”

When you left, it was like you grew wings. You could still remember crying on the dressing room floor, but now it felt like a scene in a movie that happened to someone else. Three months after you had left Adam, you went on your first date with Lin. And the difference was astounding. You found out what it was like to truly feel respected. A month after the first date, Lin encouraged you to reconnect with the friends you had lost while dating Adam.

Some didn’t forgive. Those that did forgive you understood what had happened. Amy was thrilled to find out you left Adam and was more than willing to return to your side. You made sure to meet up with Amy weekly for drinks. You gossiped with Amy about how things where going with Lin, you went out more often, and you found yourself faking far less smiles.

As it would turn out, “The Schuyler Sisters” was a highly energetic number revealing that this musical was set in the revolutionary era. All you could think is that whoever came up with the idea for this musical was an insane, crazy genius. It was something that shouldn’t have worked but it did. The number entranced you – to the point where you’d almost forgotten about envelope number three that was still waiting for opening. Pippa reminded you of it after rehearsals. “So what did letter number three say,” she asked. “Jas would not tell me what she was writing at all.”

From what you could tell, Jasmine was friends with everyone in this cast. It just reminded you that Jasmine had always been able to make friends anywhere she went. Even in Los Angeles, Jasmine had pulled off most of the amazing adventures she’d dragged you on simply by being charming in a way that you were incapable of. Now you wondered how much of what you liked about Jasmine could only be there if you were with her in person. It was easy to love Jasmine when you were in the same room as her but it was easy to get irritated and forget the good when she wasn’t around.

The third envelope featured a mini drawing of the MET and you instantly realized this envelope was a little thicker than the ones before. The minute you opened it, you discovered it included an old ticket to the MET included and you instantly felt guilty until around two hundred dollars fell out of the envelope as well.

You realized even before you read the letter what the intention was – to send you to go see a show at the MET. A hazy summer memory came to you from when you were thirteen and Jasmine had been talking to you about her theater program in her fancy New York City high school. You’d been jealous and asked her if she’d ever been to the MET. It seemed like this adventure suddenly had proof it had planned with you specifically in mind, with the hazy memories of hanging out with Jasmine and wistfully longing to go to New York City and soak in the culture.

Honey Bun,

Do you remember those times in LA when we’d go down to the various outdoor theaters and watch plays for only five bucks for the both of us? Some of those plays were horrendously acted (budget actors, I’d assume) but every now and then we’d find a diamond in the rough. I think my personal favorite was one that had been their debut of the play – they were all so nervous, but they managed to convey confidence that wasn’t there. You said they truly sucked and maybe it was true, but I was charmed by how confident you had to be to book a space to put on a play that you hadn’t tested with anyone. I’ve seen dozens of amazing plays, but nothing matches the confidence of that show. I hope one day to be that confident in something.

I think the most important of this letter is the point of making a memory. The MET is full of opportunities to make a memory for the night. I’ve arranged you a ticket with a full VIP treatment but if you have no interest in seeing this particular opera, I’ve also included 200 bucks so you can get the same VIP treatment for another opera. You have to arrange in advance for the VIP treatment, so make sure that whatever you decide to do, you decide it quick! That’s right, the only task in this envelope is to go see a show at the MET – the same place you said you’d always wanted to go. You might want to go shopping as well. Have you checked your bank balance yet? If not, go do that. You’ll find you’ll have more than enough to cover a new dress, shoes, and whatever else you think you might need for a fancy night at the MET. You may go solo or you may invite someone if you’d like.

When you have completed that, you may open envelope number four.

All my love, Aunt Jas

It struck you then that you realized no… you hadn’t checked your bank balance. How was it that even after years of not seeing you that Jasmine could know everything you’d possibly want out of a New York City trip? She knew always what you wanted and what you hoped for. Suddenly you felt guilty for being angry with Jasmine over not seeing you for a while. Perhaps it had been selfish to react with such anger to Jasmine not being around. Pippa wasn’t at the apartment and she had explained she might not be back until late which meant you had a chance to go explore New York City.

You’d already gotten a MetroCard, figuring it would come in handy as you stayed longer in New York City and you realized something with an odd feeling on the train: you were falling in love with the city. It had only been three days and you were already finding yourself looking at the city the same way a straight man might look at an attractive woman in the club. Was it love – or did you simply lust for the city and what it could potentially make you feel? You feared it, if only because Los Angeles was safe in comparison to this brand-new city.

Everything about the city found a way to make your pulse race, the hustle of it the only familiar thing about it. Even so, Los Angeles had a down time at some point. This city, in comparison, had no down time. And even more unlike Los Angeles, everyone packed together in one massive crowd. No one stopped ever. It was easy to feel a bit manic in the city, you realized. You felt like you should be somewhere constantly.

You knew you had to check the bank account balance, so you stopped by an ATM that belonged to the bank card and stuck it in, pressing the pin in. You had to change that, you remembered, if only because Pippa and Jas had said many times that they did not wish to have access to the account. Your eyes widened when you saw the balance – two hundred thousand dollars in checking, five hundred thousand in savings. You exited out of the account, stepping back in pure shock with a hand over your mouth. You couldn’t simply text Aunt Jasmine and ask her the original starting balance, especially not while stopped in the middle of the street. You were certain this had to be a mistake; people like you didn’t just get seven hundred thousand dollars as a gift.

So you stopped in the bank, who confirmed the balance was correct and that while there was indeed interest on the account, the original starting amount in savings had been one thousand eight hundred and checking originally only had seven hundred and twenty. The teller explained that because the accounts went untouched, they gained interest over the past two years, yielding the current balance. You had been able to successfully change the pin number on the account, explaining that you had no idea the account existed in the first place and that the account had been a graduation gift of sorts from your aunt.

It took hours to sort everything out, but when you did it was a realization: you didn’t have to worry about money at all on this trip. It was the shaking realization that you were beyond overdue for some shopping. You were suddenly rich, thanks to your aunt Jasmine. The realization hit you like a truck – your old phone was on your mother’s plan. You could get your own phone today if you wanted to. You could replace your old laptop with something better. Which you did – you went straight the Apple store and bought yourself a new MacBook Pro as a quick treat yourself. You justified it by saying to yourself that you had followed the spirit of the trip by leaving everything you knew behind.

Yet you did have a promise to keep with the envelopes. You decided to wait until Pippa got home, figuring bonding with her over a shopping trip would be a nice enough gesture. Back at the apartment, you discovered that Pippa didn’t really keep the snacks you wanted around – not a whole lot of salty options to choose from. So a quick trip to the corner store later and you had what you decided was at least two weeks of snacks. It was a way of saying you were in it for the long haul. The only thing you couldn’t bring yourself to do when you got back to the apartment with the snacks was set up the laptop. It felt like you were betraying your aunt, in a weird way. You owed it to her to follow through on this trip proper. So you put the laptop in the nightstand next to your bed, deciding it was something that could wait.

What seemed like hours later, Pippa finally returned to the apartment. Normally you were the kind of person who waited and hesitated. Isn’t that why it took you two years to get to those letters? Here, you wasted no time. “Would you like to come shopping with me sometime? Aunt Jas wants me to go to the MET and I kind of need a new dress for that.”

Pippa looked as if Christmas had come early.

It had been difficult to find time in Pippa’s busy schedule to go shopping together but they managed to squeeze some time in between Pippa’s rehearsal schedule to take a quick trip to Fifth Avenue. You never saw yourself as being the type to be able to afford anything here. You’d never gone shopping with friends out of embarrassment of being broke and with parents who had struggled their whole lives to provide. Perhaps it had been unfair of you to be so harsh to your parents who were trying to provide to the best of their ability but you had been ashamed in California surrounded by people who could afford things and who weren’t struggling to get by. It was like a reward for twenty-four years of struggling and working hard to study to graduate and escape home. It was doubtful Jasmine could’ve predicted you letting the accounts sit for two years – seven hundred and twenty would’ve been a generous sum to you even two years ago and it would’ve been enough to buy a new dress and new shoes for the- MET at a decent price.

Those thoughts were swirling in your head as Pippa pulled out dresses in excitement at some fancy store with a name you’d already forgotten. Pippa’s tastes seemed more boho than your own, picking brown and black dresses with lots of fringe on them. With little experience in shopping in high end stores, you felt a little out of place – almost like you were playacting at shopping. Pippa noticed your discomfort with a look on her face that you’d long learned meant determination. “We’re doing this all wrong.”

“Is it possible to do shopping wrong,” you asked, still checking the price tags and having slight discomfort at the price tags. You considered eighty dollars a splurge. These price tags ranged from one to five hundred dollars, with some reaching into the thousands. Pinching pennies was an ingrained habit, it would seem.

Pippa’s hands were on her hips and glaring at you checking the tags on each of the dresses you picked off the shelf and putting the ones that were over a hundred dollars back. While you were still getting to know Pippa, it seemed that Pippa was the type of woman to take some control. “Y/N Jones,” she stated, ignoring you correcting her on your last name and steamrolling over your objections, “your aunt went out of her way to make sure you’d have enough cash to treat yourself. Now you are going to stop glancing at those tags. Grab three dresses you like – you’re going to try them on.” When you hesitated, she sighed. “Pick three or I’ll pick for you.”

You sighed, grabbing a golden dress that hit mid-thigh and flared out, a red A-line sleeveless dress that looked like it’d hit the floor on you, and glittering silver one shoulder dress that look like it’d cling to you. Pippa was grinning as she shoved you to the dressing rooms. And as you tried on the first one, you had a pang of weirdness glancing at yourself, unable to believe how something as simple as a dress could make you feel like you were a completely different person.

You were always a jeans and t shirt kind of person, not a thousand-dollar gown kind of person. It didn’t feel right to wear it – like someone else was looking at you in the mirror. It easily outclassed your prom dress (which had been a simple baby pink dress off a sales rack) and yet… it fit you perfectly, hugging every curve in the most flattering way. Like it’d been waiting for you to come along and put it on. Pippa was on the other side of the dressing room, half begging you to come out and model the gown for her. “You’re being ridiculous,” you said with a shake of your head as you left the dressing room to show her how you looked in the golden dress.

Pippa clapped her hand to her mouth, her dark eyes glittering. “Oh gosh,” she said softly. “You look beautiful! And since you’re definitely coming to the premiere of Hamilton, you’re going to need more than one dress. So you should definitely get this one.”

A Broadway premiere? That wasn’t your life. You didn’t go to premieres, you didn’t go shopping for gowns to go the MET, and you didn’t shop on Fifth Avenue. Except somehow… it was your life. It was all yours. You wondered how to feel. It felt rather numbing. “So I’m officially invited to the premiere?”

“It’s August 6th. And I won’t allow you to be late,” Pippa said brightly. You couldn’t doubt her on that. You thought over that – that made it about two months and a few weeks away. At least you had a frame of reference for about how long you’d be in New York City. You wondered if you should have subleted your Los Angeles apartment while Pippa started rambling off, catching only the last bit of what she said. “And you are definitely wearing this gold dress to the premiere! Everyone will think you’re some famous model!”

Normally you’d protest the cost, insist that it was too much to spend on yourself. Now you were really regretting not subleasing your apartment. But you figured that Jasmine had left that money in your account as well as the cash gifts for you to take a leap and spend money on yourself. “Alright,” you said with a slight grin as you looked in the full-length mirror and smoothing out the skirt. Looking at the price tag would only make you second guess yourself, so you returned to the dressing room to change out of the golden dress with Pippa insisting you hand it over to her so you couldn’t go put it back on the rack.

After you’d shown off all three dresses to her, she insisted you had to buy them all and said it was a “treat yourself” day. She dragged you to another shop on Fifth that exclusively sold shoes and made you buy three sets of shoes that matched – each of them with heels over three inches and a sandal like feel to them. They were not the kind of shoes you bought – you bought sneakers and flats, things that you could walk around campus in. You supposed that it was nice to have shoes that you could wear to fancy events, especially since you’d been invited to a nice Broadway event. It was hard to argue with Pippa, who kept saying how wonderful things looked on you and listing off the practicalities of having dress shoes.

Pippa dragged you to Sephora next, commenting that it was so sad that you didn’t really have a wide range of makeup. “You know, if you’re going to be living in New York City, you’re going to need a wider range of choices for looks,” Pippa said brightly. “Also, some treat yourself face stuff doesn’t hurt! Don’t you dare look at the price tag!”

You wish you had a cell phone to pull out and check your bank balance – you had a feeling you’d already spent a ridiculous amount today already. You made up your mind – later today you were going to buy a new cell phone. The anxiety of not knowing how much you had spent was driving you crazy and the fact Pippa kept swatching products on you then chucking them in the basket she’d made you grab. She swiped some red colored lipstick on your lips and grinned. “You look great in red lipstick,” she declared. “Especially with those undertones – you need blue reds for sure, but you look great in warm reds too. We’re getting you some.”

And that’s exactly what she did – she chucked more lipsticks than you’d ever seen in your life into the basket as well as a few foundations from assorted brands that she swatched on your cheek. She dragged you all over the store, throwing over a hundred various products into the basket. When she finally pulled you to check out, you nearly died at the nearly three-thousand-dollar total. “Pippa,” you exclaimed in horror. “We can’t spend three thousand dollars on makeup and skincare!”

“Of course we can,” she said with a bright grin as she motioned for you to swipe your card. She was not going to let you say no to splurging on yourself. “Think of all the Beauty Insider points you’ll earn!”

You knew there was no point in arguing with her, so you swiped the card with a slight wince. This went against the grain – you’d already spent almost ten thousand on those dresses and almost five thousand on shoes. And now three thousand at Sephora. This was not you. You could count the number of times you “splurged” on yourself – the last time had been fifty dollars on a sale that had got you the backpack you had used to come to New York City with and two of the jeans in your bag. On top of that, you still had to buy the MET tickets. You wanted to get the same package Jasmine had originally gotten the first time around, if only because you wanted to experience this trip the way she had intended.

“This entire trip was insane,” you said the minute you two were out of the store with your new purchases. While you were admittedly excited about having an actual make up selection to choose from, you were miffed at the amount that you had let yourself spend. You knew you could’ve said something, but you hadn’t. You wondered why you kept not saying no when you wanted to say no. Somehow, it seemed like the goal for you now: learn to say no. By the end of this trip, you told yourself, you’d be able to say no to people. “You just bullied me into spending almost twenty grand!”

“You needed to learn how to spend money on yourself,” Pippa said rather dismissively. “Since you got here, you haven’t really bought anything except for snacks. I know your aunt gave you a ridiculous amount of money and you have barely spent any of it on yourself. And I know for a fact that it won’t even put a dent into those accounts you have. Besides, now you have a dress for the MET and for the premiere and for envelope four.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Envelope four?”

Pippa’s eyes went wide, and she clamped her hand over her mouth. “Shoot, that’s right! I wasn’t supposed to say anything! Forget I said anything! Hey, let’s get some Starbucks!” She dragged you towards the Starbucks, clearly trying to deflect the whole way. “So you know that musical we’re doing? Lin, the guy who wrote it, has been going nuts. The closer we get to the premiere of Hamilton, the more he freaks out.”

“Lin wrote it,” you said in surprise, remembering the fact he’d mentioned meeting everyone on the crew and was involved with rehearsals. “So he’s just hanging around?”

“No,” Pippa said, shaking her head. “He’s playing Alexander Hamilton. But you knew that, right?” A quick look at your face showed that no, you did not know that. “Oh! Oh, I just assumed he’d mention it to you since you two were talking and he had that look of…”

There was a lot to process. You couldn’t figure out where you’d heard the name Alexander Hamilton before. Second, did Pippa think that Lin had a crush on you or something? It was hard to imagine anyone developing a crush on you when Jasmine was around. And not even just Jasmine. Between Renee and Pippa, it seemed like Lin was surrounded by beautiful women. What chance did you have up against any of them? “Look of what?”

Pippa grinned. “He was looking at you like you were the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen,” she said as she placed her order for her Starbucks order. “You should totally at least get to know him. I bet you two would get along.”

You wondered where she figured that from. You thought about that as you two made the trip to the MET with Pippa to organize the VIP experience with her. You figured you might as well pay for her ticket as well since she was being nice enough to take time out of her schedule to hang out with you. It could’ve been like your roommate situation in college where you barely saw the girl you lived with and when she was there, neither of you talked to each other. It was awkward, and you aren’t even certain you remember the girl’s name correctly – you wanted to say Stacey, but you were certain that wasn’t it. You didn’t want Pippa to be like that later in life.

The problem with an experience that had to be arranged in advance meant that you both now had to wait until Saturday, Pippa’s next free day, to go to the MET. Which meant that Pippa dragged you to rehearsals again the next day with a bright grin on her face, insisting that you at least try to get to know Lin better. So with winged eyeliner applied carefully and a test drive of one of the bright red lipsticks you’d bought yesterday paired awkwardly with your old raggedy jeans and a white tank top with your untamed curls pulled back into a ponytail, you’d agree to come along with her. “Is this musical really based on a founding father? Wasn’t there already one of those?”

You were being rhetorical – you already knew there was another musical based on a founding father due to the fact Jasmine had dragged you to a production of 1776. You couldn’t speak for the quality of the production and you still weren’t certain if you’d liked it. History was never one of your favorite subjects. The thing you didn’t like about history is how it was exclusively white men telling the story, however with this musical you couldn’t help but notice how little white men were involved in this project. “Well, yeah,” Pippa said as she led you through the Richard Rogers to her dressing room. “But this one is different. It’s a hip-hop musical.”

With that, you couldn’t help but burst into laughter. It was the single stupidest thing you’d ever heard but the energetic performance of “The Schuyler Sisters” was still in the back of your head. For some reason, you could somehow see it working out if every number was as good as the one you’d witnessed. “That is the dumbest idea I’ve ever heard.”

“You’re breaking my heart,” came a male voice from the doorway. From the look of sheer glee on Pippa’s face, you had a guess who it was. “Though I will admit, on paper it does look crazy.”

Your cheeks heated up and grateful that it wasn’t easy to tell when you’re blushing as you turned around to face Lin, who had an easy-going grin on his face for a guy whose work you just insulted. Was he always this chipper? It was nine in the morning and here he was, grinning like he didn’t have a care in the world. You didn’t know if you liked that or not. “Crazy? Try totally insane,” you said, figuring if you were going to insult him, you might as well go all out. “Who looks at a founding father and thinks ‘yeah, he’d be great material for a hip-hop musical’?”

“Well, if you’d like, I could tell you all about the thought process while I give you a tour of the theater.”

You turned back to Pippa, as if asking for her permission. She gave a quick nod, letting you know it was fine by her to ditch her. So you turned back to him with a grin. “I’d love to take you up on that tour.”

It turns out that Lin wasn’t just a pretty face that vapidly filled the void with as much words as he could as you’d previously assumed. No, it turns out that he was a smart, charismatic guy and that combination was all it took for him to go from background noise chatter to having your full attention. He’d explained his thought process to you about how he had been reading a biography on Alexander Hamilton and just started thinking of it in terms of rap. While you still barely understood his thought process in music, you could appreciate his story telling chops. When he told a story, he commanded attention in a way you’d never seen before. It was effortless.

You’d wondered how you’d never heard about him before as he mentioned that he already had done another musical before in 2008. Jasmine never shut up about theater. Your father’s Latino heritage should’ve been reason enough to mention a musical that featured a mostly Latino cast. Then you remembered that Jasmine had already been out of the picture for three years at that point. That was something a pang to your heart, but you ignored it. “So. The casting process here. From what I vaguely remember when Dick Cheney shot that guy and Hamilton was mentioned as the only other guy who’d been shot by a sitting vice president… Aaron Burr is that vice president, right?”

Lin laughed - though you weren’t sure if it was over the reference to Dick Cheney or the sheer humor in the fact that someone being shot by the vice president had managed to happen to twice in American history. “Yes, Aaron Burr is the vice president that shot Hamilton. Maybe in another two hundred years, they’ll be making a musical about Henry Whittington.”

“Doubtful,” you said with a snort. “Henry Whittington is kind of a boring dude. But back to the point – Aaron Burr in history is a white guy. You casted a black guy to play him. And my aunt – a black woman – is playing a historically white woman. And Pippa is playing who was historically a white woman. And you casted yourself, a Latino, as Alexander Hamilton, who was historically white. So what’s up with that?”

“Reclaiming the story,” he said simply. Your face must have given away your confusion because he ended up elaborating. “Traditionally, it’s white guys who get to decide how the story guys and what stories get told. Exclusively using a cast of color, save for King George the III who’s an outlier anyway and only there because it’s funny, is the best way to take back American history for people of color. It’s the ultimate way of reclamation of the narrative.”

You nodded thoughtfully, the reasoning you never liked history coming front and center. It had always been about white men claiming power and being in charge and fighting for power. History as a story was compelling but also it got tiring to read about white men exclusively. And then “The Schuyler Sisters” number came front and center. “Isn’t the Schuyler Sisters a reclaiming itself, too? You so rarely hear about the women of that time era and here, the Schuyler sisters are given motivations and personality beyond the usual motivation of ‘I want a husband and a few kids’ that are given to women of that time era. I mean, Angelica even says she’s looking for a mind at work – that she wants a mental challenge.”

There was an excited look on his face – a look that told you that he was pleased you’d put something together. Once again, you weren’t certain if you liked it or not. “You know, Hamilton’s story is cradled by his wife. She fought to preserve his legacy, making sure that none of his writings went into obscurity. None of this would exist without her. So yeah, you’re right: it’s a reclaimation of what women were capable of doing in that particular era.”

Now that was an empowering statement you could get behind. It made you curious about the history behind the musical – a feat not easy to do. “Well, I normally really don’t care to learn about colonial history… for obvious reasons,” you said, grinning when he laughed, “but what you have here seems interesting. And worth learning about. Though… I have to ask. Why rap? You could’ve chosen any genre but… you went with rap with R&B and some soul thrown in.”

“You sound like an interviewer,” he commented, causing your cheeks to heat up again.

“I mean, I’m just fascinated with the artistic process,” you stumbled out. “I did major in English, so the process behind the writing and the meaning of the text is kind of fascinating. Almost close to what I wrote my thesis on.”

“Oh? What did you write your thesis on?”

You realized that you’d never really had a conversation of this caliber with a guy outside a classroom. You regretted tuning him out last time he spoke to you and wondered if he was spilling this kind of intelligence last time. “Uh, on representation in fiction. How what we see in books can shape our world view. How seeing only white bodies on screen can lead to the dehumanization of kids of color and affect their self-esteem. Sort of written out of spite, honestly. About a hundred and fifty pages of pure spite, really.”

“That honestly sounds like something I’d love to read,” he said with an easy-going grin that made you melt. “But I did sort of side step your question. I think the main reason I chose rap is because it fits. Rap itself is the music of a revolution so it just works.” You nodded slowly as he checked his watch and your heart sank a bit – were you boring him? “Fuck. We’re going to have finish this tour later. I gotta go to rehearsals. Would like you to join me?”

And just like that the quick feeling insecurity fled. “I’d love to.”

This time, you got to see them rehearse “The Battle of Yorktown (The World Turned Upside Down)” according to the sheet music on the piano. According to Lin, the guy at the piano playing it was named Alex Lacamoire, but Lin seemed to refer to the man exclusively as “Lac”. It was the same with the man who was playing King George the III – you recognized him from Glee as Jonathan Groff, but Lin exclusively referred to the man as “Groffsauce”. It was a pattern with him, calling people by nicknames. You wondered if he had a nickname for you yet. Hopefully it wasn’t the childish nickname your Jasmine insisted on calling you ever since she heard your father call you that.

Once again, the music and cast stunned you at how incredibly well thought out and intricate it was. It felt almost empowering in a way you couldn’t quite pin down yet. You were certain once you got to see it all the way through, you were going to leave a change woman. Just watching all sorts of different people up on stage playing revolutionaries felt like something you’d never seen before. It made you impatient for August sixth to arrive.

Pippa was more than excited herself. It was like a reminder that everything in this moment was merely temporary and you suddenly realized the point of splurging all that money on yourself: because nothing was promised. So why not? And the more you immersed yourself into the city, the more grounded in the moment you felt. The more it was obvious you were watching history unfold in front of you with each rehearsal you attended. By the time the MET experience rolled around, you felt more than a little out of body. You chalked it up to the fact you hadn’t used your phone or a laptop in ages – everything felt hyperreal.

Entering the MET was grounded even more in reality as you realized you were wearing a red ballgown and designer heels with over a hundred dollars on your face alone. It felt like you had walked from your normal life into a scene from a movie. It didn’t feel like you because the day to day you didn’t wear bright red lipstick and certainly didn’t get their hair done at a salon before going to a fancy opera. It was surreal enough to be sit in a seat that had you less than two rows away from the stage right in the middle. And these actors weren’t just good – they were amazing. You had never witnessed anything of its caliber, really.

You were sitting in the LAX airport, unable to believe how crazy this was. You’d received the letters from your aunt (fourteen of them, to be exact, but the thirteen letters in envelopes stuffed into one big envelope) with orders to open them in order two years ago – never finding the time until now. At least, that was the letter attached to the stack of envelopes claimed you had to do with strict instructions to not open the first envelope until you were on the plane. The envelope also contained almost five thousand dollars in cash and a plane ticket to New York City and a single key as well as a bank card. She’d told you to leave your phone at home as well as your laptop and camera and to only bring what you could fit into your backpack. You’d done your best to fit at least two weeks of clothes and the essentials into your bag while waiting to board your flight.

Reading over the letter that had accompanied the bright blue envelopes again, you struggled to understand the point of this exercise. Your aunt Jasmine had always been a wild card, but this went to a new level of wild. Still, you followed her instructions to the letter including leaving your cell phone at home despite a deep desire to run back and grab it. She’d said not to bring anything extra, not even cash because she’d be taking care of that. Naturally, the idea of you having any spare change laying around for this kind of last minute trip was laughable – your parents had been teen parents who struggled to provide and while they’d managed to get their college degrees, it had always been tense.

It had only gotten colder since you’d left for UCLA to secure your degree in English. After getting your bachelor’s, you realized you didn’t want to go home to where your parents were fighting over everything and knowing it was all your fault for existing. They wouldn’t have felt forced to stay together if it wasn’t for you. So you went back to school and that had been when the envelope had arrived. You’d ignored it in favor of obtaining your master’s. Now you wished you’d opened it before going back to school for your master’s – perhaps you’d be in far less debt if you had.

While it wasn’t fair to Aunt Jasmine to get angry that her life went a way that enabled her to organize all this all the drop of the hat, you couldn’t help but feel it. Still, you eager to escape the tense situation at home that you had been putting off returning back to. The former high school sweethearts were now bitter with each other and you going to UCLA was putting a strain on them. After graduating, you need to get away from what you’ve dubbed ‘the war zone’ and so this summer seemed as good a time as any to finally put Aunt Jasmine’s crazy scheme to work. The minute you got on the plane, you opened the first envelope to find Aunt Jasmine’s neat handwriting explaining out step one.

Honey bun,

I know that your parents have been having issues at home and that you’re caught in the cross fire of it. I know you have a tendency to blame yourself for things going wrong and shoulder the blame for things that aren’t your fault. Which is why I’ve organized this experience for you. You always said you wanted to travel, so I’ve arranged everything. You won’t have to worry about money – all that’s been taken care of for you. The key you have is the key to an apartment that my friend owns in Brooklyn. I met her through a musical that was so incredible, you’d have to see it to believe it! Her name is Pippa and she’s quite eager to meet you (I promise I only used your name when talking about you to her – I know how much you hate that nickname).

(Though I don’t know why – it’s been your nickname since you were little! It’s much better than the other option your parents had for you, which dad says was booger. Ew. Imagine going through life knowing your parents were calling you booger.)

Enough of that. Back to the main point. When you meet her, she’ll have the access code to your debit card. I took care to make sure it was put in your name – it’s your own account. Even I no longer have access to it, so I’ll have no idea if you decide to ignore everything I’ve laid out for you and go your own way. It’s fine if you do – this is designed to be your choice, after all. But I hope to see you in New York City soon. If I do see you in New York City, I’ll assume you’ve decided to follow the path I’ve led out for you. While I’ll do my best to stay out of the way of your journey, I can’t promise I’ll entirely stay away from your journey!

By the way: do not open envelope number two until you’ve gotten to the address I’ve given you in Brooklyn!

All my love, Aunt Jas

You wondered what she thought when you hadn’t shown up for two years – perhaps she’d thought you taken the money and used it for your education. Or that you’d simply spent it on rent. You examined over the debit card with interest – she’d given you no way to access the funds as of yet. According to her, some woman named Pippa (who names their daughter Pippa, you wondered) would have the access code to your card. Your heart sank as you realized Pippa might not live in the apartment to which your Aunt Jasmine had given you the key to anymore. Perhaps you should’ve put Aunt Jasmine’s envelopes to use two years ago.

It was too late for what ifs and should haves, however. You were already on the plane and there was no turning back at this point. You wished even more now that you had ignored Aunt Jasmine’s suggestion of leaving behind your phone and laptop. It was still sitting on your dresser in your cramped, undersized LA apartment that you’d rented out as a place to escape the war zone. If you had your phone, you could call aunt Jasmine or at the very least email her in hopes of finding out what to do if Pippa wasn’t there.

Ever since the date, you had been utterly giddy. You were suddenly extremely grateful that your Aunt Jasmine had decided to shove you to asking someone out. It was like you were walking on air, actually. “So wait, he actually kissed you?” “For the last time, Pippa, yes,” you said with the widest grin as you remembered the feel of his lips against yours. It'd been ages since you and Pippa had gotten to hang out. Right now, Pippa and you had made tea and decided to catch up on the couch. “I mean, you knew Aunt Jas was going to make me ask someone out, though? You couldn't have warned me?”

Pippa laughed, shaking her head. “Your aunt really wanted everything in the envelopes to be a surprise so no, I couldn't,” she said with a grin. “Besides, I only knew the contents of that one letter because she mentioned that you were still single and she felt that you should be going on dates and what not. I think she did you a favor. From the way you and Lin were acting, the two of you would've danced around asking the other out until someone else asked you out and end up married to someone else. Which is what happened with this other girl he liked a few years back.”

“Really,” you said with your eyebrows going up. “So then it sounds like Lin also owes Jas a thank you and not just me.”

“Oh for sure,” she said with a giggle, leaning back with a bright grin. “You're a catch! I mean, you are so pretty and smart. Exactly his type, funnily enough. Which it turns out that's also Michael's type.”

“Who the fuck is Michael?”

“The guy the girl he liked ended up with,” she explained as she finished off her tea and stood up. “Lin was bitter about it for a while there, but I think he's getting over it. Oh, you should open the next letter. I wanna know what letter five is all about.”

Envelope five had a small drawing of a girl that looked vaguely familiar. It took a minute before you realized it was your mother, age twenty-seven. She hadn't looked that vibrant and glowing in years. It was like life had started to suck the life out of her. You didn't realize that Aunt Jasmine remembered how your mom looked back then. Normally you discarded the envelopes but you set this one down with the intention of keeping it.

Honey bun,

Sometimes life doesn't have direction. When I was born, Anya was already fifteen and a full fledged teenager. Our dad and her mom had split ages ago – shortly after Anya was born, actually. Dad was only nineteen when your mom was born and her mother was only eighteen. Instead of taking responsibility and staying with dad, she split. He knew that relationships when you're a teenager aren't meant to last. He was worried that Anya's relationship wouldn't make it despite your existence and that she'd be left with little to nothing. Honestly, what I admire most about Anya and your father is that they still went to college and took care of you. It wasn't an easy task and I'm not sure you remember them being on food stamps and living in a crappy married couples dorm in Stanford.

They made it work, though. Stanford saw the happiest years of your parents' lives because there's something about being in school that made it easier. They had a roof over their heads, they had a schedule. It all fell apart upon graduation – which you probably don't remember well. I barely remember it myself. The only reason I know is because my dad told me about how he'd been surprised how steady their relationship was while he and my mom were raising me. I think when I turned ten is when your mother decided she didn't want to see him and my mom together anymore but I still wanted to see you and her. So I started visiting California on my own on dad's dime with his blessing.

Relationships are a tricky thing to explain, actually. It's the sort of thing that can feel like you're spinning rapidly out of control and it's easy to ditch them once it starts getting too serious. When you've got dreams, it's easy to see love itself as a baggage. That's how I once thought of love, anyway. Neither your mother nor I had any real model of healthy relationships. I think it might be why your mother is so defensive of her relationship with your father. It's... real. Or real enough, really. I think once you've spent twenty-eight years with someone, it becomes harder to say this isn't working. You don't want to throw away all those years together. Especially when you can say you'd been together since high school.

See, your mother doesn't hear criticism well, especially since dad's been trying to get her out of that relationship since before you were born. Which is the only reason I was okay with the relationship, I think. It made me an aunt to you. You're the greatest thing to come out of that relationship. And honestly, this is why envelope five is a wild card – you get to decide what you need to do. You can open envelope six whenever you feel it's appropriate.

All my love, Aunt Jas

There was no answers to this. You couldn't tell what the appropriate time to open envelope six was. For some reason, right after reading this letter didn't feel like the right time. You tucked away the sixth envelope in your purse, figuring that the perfect moment would hit you eventually. You already knew your family had been a bit screwed up – it was obvious to anyone. Between the fact your aunt was barely two years older than and you being the product of a teenage pregnancy and your mother somehow also being the product of teenage pregnancy (you wondered what the odds on that happening were), there was too much to your family that you didn't want to go into. In fact, when Lin specifically asked about your family during the date you went out of your way to focus exclusively on Aunt Jasmine. It had just been easier at the time.

You talked about how before Aunt Jasmine turned 15, she had stayed in your room during summer vacations and how when she was 15 she started staying in fancy hotels under her dad's name. How she was the one who helped you picked out your homecoming dress freshman and sophomore year and how lost you felt when she wasn't there to help after. You danced around why she stopped showing up and merely mentioned being surprised at the contact she'd made two years ago. For some reason, it felt like luck that you hadn't opened the envelopes until now. While you were certain this trip would've been just as amazing two years ago, it felt like a crescendo in your life. Like this was the drum roll, leading up to something important that you've yet to figure out.

Maybe you were investing too much stock in these envelopes your aunt gave you. Maybe the goal wasn't to figure your life out. After all, you'd only been 22 when the letters arrived. There's no way it was as simple as “help you figure your life out”. Whatever was going on, you figured a breather from the envelopes would help you sort out what you needed to do next. What you needed was something to clear your head. Some space away from them, something that would take you away from the right now.

The answer of what you needed to do next was see the Museum of Natural History. You weren't certain how your mind connected the need for distance from the now to history. Perhaps it had been on your mind a lot due to your recent conversations with Lin. He texted you almost every day now, telling you how he couldn't wait to see you again. It was nice to see his name flash across your phone screen with your heart racing every time, even as you were swiping on the blood red of Vampira from Kat Von D. You texted Lin, asking him to send your aunt to meet you at the Museum of Natural History. A slight grin appeared on your face as he texted back with your aunt's number and that he'll let her know you'd like to see her.

It was then that you realized that you never told your aunt that you had bought a laptop and phone in New York City. You supposed you should probably let her know that you had done that and explain that you figured that you'd be staying in New York City for a while. It'd already been almost a month, you realized with a start. How long where you going to stay? You weren't even halfway through the envelopes and it's already taken almost a month to get through them. It was then that you started to calculate out how long it'd been. You arrived June 20 – a week after graduating. It was now July 18 – in two days it would be a month. Suddenly you wondered if you should be getting through the envelopes faster.

You were grinning when your aunt showed up. Here was the thing about your aunt: you always felt like she was so much prettier than you. It was just since the two of you were so close in age it seemed like you and her should have bloomed at the same time. However, when Jasmine bloomed, you... didn't. Jasmine got the attention from the boys and at one point over the summer, a crush you'd had all summer long ended up trying to get your aunt Jasmine's number. It was demoralizing to have your aunt get the guy you liked, to say the least. That was when your self confidence was definitely at its lowest.

Right now was no exception either. It was why you were still surprised that Lin showed an interest in you over your aunt – who was older (and a gap between 35 and 26 was far less insane than the gap between 35 and 24), with lighter skin and with far more control over her own curls, and far more knowledgeable about theater than you. Looking at her now, it was hard to believe this was the same woman you had once shared baths with at age five and harder still to believe that someone would actually chose you over her. She threw her arms around you, a big grin on her face. “Let's go look at some dinosaur bones.”

Dinosaur bones wasn't exactly what you had in mind – you'd really wanted to see the planetarium. You figured maybe there was a chance the two of you could do both. Some time to see dinosaurs and stars. While logically, you knew museums like this existed all over the country something about New York City made it feel different. It was that feeling again; that feeling that felt like you'd been struck by lightening and were unable to put the flames out. “And maybe some stars later?”

Jasmine laughed slightly – you weren't sure if it was because of your predictability or because she was laughing at you. You took the favorable option. “You want to look at the observatory, huh?”

And for a while, everything went fine. Aunt Jasmine starting telling you the stories of backstage life, with you clinging to every word and realizing you'd never met the rest of the cast beyond Phillipa and Lin. “So when am I going to get to meet everyone else?”

“In due time, honey bun,” Jasmine said as she read the plaque for the giant set of bones that was in front of the two of you. “Pippa says you're the best roommate she's ever had. She comes home and you've already cleaned everything and have a hot meal waiting for her. Sounds incredibly domestic.”

You supposed domestic was the right word for it. You found yourself settling more into Pippa's apartment over the past month. A week after arriving, you'd hung your clothes up in the closet. Two weeks after, you starting writing your own events you needed to get to on the big whiteboard that Pippa had hanging up in the kitchen. Three days ago, you paid for groceries in the place after you'd run out of chicken. You hadn't realized how quickly you slipped into treating Pippa's apartment like “home”. “I suppose it's just cause I can't do anything without a clear head. Cleaning helps.”

“You'd always been a neat freak,” Jasmine said with a sly grin on her face. “Whenever you'd come over to my hotel, you'd yell at me over leaving my clothes everywhere. Renee and Pip do the same thing in the dressing room. Well not yell... more like sternly talk to me about how it's a shared space.”

Jasmine was right – she'd always been messy and you'd always been the clean one. Cleaning up after everyone else's mess, the same way you always had chosen the clear cut path rather than taking risks. It had been the biggest opposition between you and aunt Jasmine. She was messy, a risk taker, the one who broke the rules. You were clean, the steady course, the one who abode by every rule. Even your notebooks told this – clean, neat, elegant notes. Everything laid out neatly in stark contrast with Jasmine. Her lighter but somehow messier. “You probably might need my help,” you teased. “I'm willing to come look at previews any time.”

“Oh no you don't,” she said, her eyes going wide. “Pippa insists you need to get the full experience opening night. Star studded VIP treatment and all that. I kinda agree with her.”

You shrugged, figuring at least you could find out how much 128 gigabytes really could store when it came to pictures. It did go against the spirit of the trip, but since it was starting to feel more like it'd be months before you returned back to reality... you wanted a way to call your mother is what you told yourself. You missed home. But you knew that it was all because you wanted a way to keep in contact with those you'd met in New York City. “Pippa likes to be bossy, doesn't she?”

And then your phone went off. The loud ringing meant it was probably Lin – either texting you or calling you. And then you saw Jasmine's face – you'd never seen that look on her face. Her lips had parted and her eyes just had a hint of something that looked... like hurt. The only time you'd ever seen her seem hurt is when your mother had told her that she was too young to understand her. “You brought your phone? On the trip where I said don’t bring your phone?”

Logically, you knew you didn't have to explain yourself if you had brought your phone with you. You knew that you were an adult and she couldn't prevent you from. But you didn't like how vulnerable Jasmine looked. Your aunt wasn't a vulnerable person. So instead of the 'so what if I had' answer on the tip of your tongue, you said instead, “No, I bought a new phone. The instructions didn't say I couldn't buy new electronics.”

“It was... implied,” Jasmine said, briskly starting to walk away from you. And your heart sank. You chased after her, calling her name until she spun around, clearly upset. “You just... you violated the spirit of the adventure!”

You sputtered in response. “The spirit of the adventure,” you said, seeing red. “We haven't spoken in almost ten years! And the first thing I get from you is ditch your phone and your entire life in Los Angeles to come hang out in New York City! We were like sisters growing up but here we are and I had no idea you were making a Broadway debut!”

Jasmine looked hurt by this. “At the time when I sent those, I didn't know I'd be making a debut on Broadway,” she said, folding her arms over her chest and pulling away. You knew that this was probably a point where you could apologize and everything would be fine and the two of you could go off the planetarium but the logic had checked out for the day. “What about you, huh? You took two years to even get around to this! It was supposed to be a graduation gift!”

“Graduation gift,” you said incredulously, shaking your head. “A better graduation gift would have been actually coming to my commencement ceremony. But you weren't there. You had... three separate tries at now! High school graduation – where were you? Not there! Bachelor's? Not there! Masters? Nope! I had to find out through your cast mates that you even knew that I had gotten my masters!” You paused, realizing by the look on her face that you had touched a nerve. “I'm flying back to LA. Tonight.”