#varyyn

Six Hours to Midnight

Baby Liv sat on her Mama Estela’s lap, nestled against her chest. It was a moment of stillness that was becoming rarer; at some eighteen-months old, the dark-haired, rosy-cheeked child was an agent of chaos… but even little monsters had to recharge at some point.

Holding her baby, Estela was cross-legged in front of a garden patch, one marked with an engraved stone. There was no grave at which to visit her mother, but she had this.

“I think…,” she said, “it should be a boring one-- in a good way. There’s a few things we’ve been talking about with Catalyst, but I don’t wanna take on too much. Livi is what matters.”

Estela talked to her mom about Liv now and then; it was the best she could do. Small comfort was better than no comfort at all. The passing of years was healing in some ways, while some aches only deepened. Olivia Montoya-- the first-- was a distant memory, fading further out of reach, and that was shit.

“We, uh, we’ll head stateside for at least a little while though; Michelle and Quinn are getting married. Liv’s got a gig as a flowergirl!”

Then, she was quiet. She held Liv tighter as her eyes began to sting. Thirteen years…. It wasn’t fair. Almost half her life ago. Closing her eyes, Estela nestled into Liv’s hair, and the scent of her was a balm. Of all the dates the anniversary had to be… that it fell on a day what should have been about looking forward was cruel. What about it wasn’t cruel? ‘Cruel’ was something Estela could not abide, and maybe that fire it brought out in her was a gift, had actually done some good in the world. But she still had to live with what had happened.

Soft footsteps. Immediately as Taylor sat down, Estela leaned into her.

The arrival of her second mother was enough to put Liv back into wriggle-mode. She squirmed halfway onto Taylor’s lap. “Mama Tay! Fwowas?”

“Yeah,” Taylor whispered, “I brought some flowers for Abuelita. They’re really pretty, aren’t they?”

“Fwowas,” Liv agreed, and she reached for the colourful objects. ‘Flowers’ was a new word, and one of Liv’s favourites.

“Uh-ah!”

Thankfully, Estela had quick reflexes, sharpened by time spent in the company of her own grabby toddler, and her nephew as well. “What am I going to do with you, huh?” she laughed. Then she placed the flowers down against the stone. “Te amo, Mami.”

When they’d sat for a few moments more, Estela heaved a big sigh. “Okay; we’d better head over. You’re ready to go?”

Taylor kissed the side of her wife’s head. “Diapers packed, coffee downed. I’m ready if you are.”

Five Hours to Midnight

There was a spring to Diego’s step, and he swung Varyyn’s hand as he walked. This next year was shaping up to be a good one.

“It is nice to see so wide a smile on your face,” Varyyn said, his eyes twinkling and warm in the evening light. “For all the work you have put in, you deserve it.”

Diego gave a little squeal and a hop. “I just can’t believe I heard anything back, today of all days-- after all these months of waiting and trying--”

“Perhaps,” Varyyn said, smiling, “the publishers thought it a New Year’s gift. Or they were so enamored by your writing that they simply could not wait until after the holidays!”

Tremendously exciting though his soon-to-be signed book deal was, there was trepidation as well. Diego had barely left La Huerta since retreating back there when Covid hit. Any extended time in the US meant he’d have to put aside what had become a significant part of himself-- for he was culturally part-Vaanti-- and worse, he’d likely go long stretches without his husband by his side.

Varyyn squeezed the fingers entwined in his. He was quick to sense the swooping of fears. It happened that way with Diego sometimes; any highs too dizzying had to be tempered by a surge of worry or sadness. As though his mind could not trust in joy, and sought to bring him down gently rather than have the world force a crash.

“You have spent so much energy believing in me, my love,” he said, gently tugging Diego closer so that he bumped gently against his chest. It was enough-- that beautiful grin returned. “What if I decree as Elyyshar that you must believe in yourself? Or at least, to say the words, whether you believe them yet or not?”

Diego giggled. “Hey-- you can’t just pull the Elyyshar card on my self-esteem!”

“Then shall I enlist Taylor to cheer in your corner whenever you travel away?”

“That’s not fair-- between the two of you, the bullying voices in my head wouldn’t stand a chance!”

Varyyn pulled Diego to a stop so he could kiss him, sighing into it as his love melted into it. When he came away, he looked upon Diego with all the adoration that reverberated through his soul. “True. And that is exactly how it should be.”

Diego closed his eyes, leaning up so his forehead was pressed gently against Varyyn’s. A soft smile curved his lips. “It’s not even midnight yet….”

“I’m afraid not,” Varyyn said, “but how could I wait for the most marvellous of all your traditions?”

Four Hours to Midnight

Reginald squealed, running up and down the hallway, his little legs flailing to the sides in his wild enthusiasm.

Aleister had a hand to his forehead. New Year’s at our place-- it’ll be no trouble at all! No trouble, ha. No trouble….

“Reggie, we’re settling down now! It’s already a very late night for a little boy.”

He was only two. Midnight was out of the question, but it had seemed simple enough in theory to suggest that Reggie would handle a minor change to the bedtime routine, that being Liv’s staying overnight.

Baby Liv wobbled around on her chubby legs, chasing her cousin at a determined waddle. The one-year-old had at least been changed into her nightie, being just young enough that she didn’t put up too much of a fight.

“Weggie-wun!” she cried with a cheerful bounce of her knees.

Reggie run? Oh no, don’t you start egging him on--

But Diego swooped in, scooping Liv up in his arms. “We can take ‘em! Don’t you know my reputation as a story-teller? I’ll have them eating out the palm of my hand in no time.”

‘No time’ stretched out into thirty, forty, then fifty minutes. It was all hands on deck with two over-excited, over-tired, and increasingly fractious toddlers.

Usually, Reggie’s bedtime routine ran like clockwork, his parents like a well-oiled machine as they responded to minor wobbles. Aleister hoped this night was not a sign of the year to come; Reggie screamed, tried to bite Liv when she grabbed his toy car, threw two books on the floor, and hit his mother, father, and Auntie Taylor in quick succession.

“You said you were looking forward to the toddler phase, Taylor?” Aleister commented darkly as his sister-in-law took a breather.

“I know it’s not like this twenty-four-seven,” she replied, picking up one of the books that had become a missile. “Otherwise, people wouldn’t have more than one. And Reggie’s a darling. Watching him become that person is worth the terrible twos, and it’ll be just the same with Liv.”

With Reggie and Liv settled in Diego’s lap to hear Where the Wild Things Are, there was time at last to enjoy calm and quiet. It struck Taylor how grown-up Liv looked joining her big cousin for a story. The time flew so fast… whether they were ready or not. Taylor found herself looking forward to each new stage, but she knew Estela missed the cuddly baby who could easily be kept close, kept safe. In the early days, Estela had been favoured by Liv by a country mile, but more recently, the fun and expressive Taylor was all the rage. Things just… changed.

“Any big resolutions this year, Al?” she asked as they watched the toddlers from the doorway. Sure, they could go and sit down, get comfortable for a little while, but with the storm over, it was nice to just enjoy a bedtime.

Aleister frowned. “Do we really have to make an annual song-and-dance around self-improvement?”

“Well… no. In some ways it is silly,” Taylor admitted. “I always try to do better; I don’t need the year to tick over to force the issue.”

“I have a temper,” Aleister said shortly. “I snap, I scorn, and I promised myself I’d never let Reg be on the receiving end.” He looked at his little boy, bright-eyed and laughing. “I’m not naiive enough to think that I’m special for losing my rag with a belligerent toddler, but I wanted so badly to not be that parent.”

“Maybe a two-fold resolution,” Taylor said gently, “to handle your emotions better… and to cut yourself some slack for being human. I guess you’ll have reassurance of how normal you are when me and ‘Stel are pulling our hair out over Liv.”

The smallest smile tugged at the edge of Aleister’s mouth. It was fortunate to not feel alone as a parent. Not only did he have Grace, but he had family nearby, their struggles shared and understood.

“Heavens, Liv is going to be a pain in the arse of a toddler. And I’m sure you know I say that with love.”

Taylor couldn’t help but laugh. Liv was strong-willed. It would serve her well in life, but would not necessarily make for an easy ride for her moms. That was okay; they could take on anything.

“He’s such a good boy,” she gushed, watching as Reggie picked up Liv’s dropped milk bottle before Diego could even react. “You must be doing something right, something important, because he is a kind little man.”

Yes, he was. Either Reggie had got that from Grace, Aleister supposed, or they really were on the right track.

“So, Taylor? What challenge have you set for yourself? I can only assume you’ve done so if you’re bringing this nonsense up willingly.

“Same as always, really. Be grateful every day. Don’t forget what I went through to be here, even when ‘here’ feels like shit. And I really need to get a handle on my caffeine problem. Between finishing my degree and surviving a baby, I have a very intense relationship with coffee.”

“You know, I hadn’t noticed. Oh well, at least your first ambition was somewhat realistic, saccharine though it might be….”

Three Hours to Midnight

Taylor, pyjama-clad, trudged back down the beach, side-by-side with Diego. As the night had worn on, everyone had seen to change into more comfortable attire, which in Diego’s case had meant a walk back to Elyys’tel to grab his PJs. Taylor, naturally, had joined him, enjoying the fresh night air and the flowing of optimism that came with the eve of a new year.

“I keep seeing all these memes-- ‘95 kids with their thirties looming this year,” Diego laughed. “Who’s first?”

Taylor’s brow furrowed as she ran through the birthdays in her head. “I mean, obviously Jake’s already over that particular hill… but Sean, I’m pretty sure. Earlier in the year it’s mostly us li’l ‘96 kids. It’ll be round for you and me before we know it, though.”

“Feels like a big milestone,” Diego observed, swirling his drink. “The years really do start coming and they don’t stop coming.”

Taylor chuckled. “How do you think I feel? I’ve only been around seven years and I’m already twenty-nine! If I wasn’t so insanely grateful for the life I’ve landed, I could wind up feeling short-changed.” She walked into the shallows, the cool water beautifully refreshing. “I still don’t really know what I want to do when I grow up. Mom, wife, friend, yeah… but professionally has been trickier.”

“I guess it could get easier for you to dabble, if you like, now Liv’s that bit bigger.”

“I’m thinking about it,” Taylor said. “I enjoy counselling, and I want to make myself available to kids in San Trobida, working remotely. That year I was on the ground was pretty rewarding, and I loved connecting with people. It’s just all fallen off since I’ve been away with Liv. I do a little bit here and there, helping out with Catalyst International, but we’ve all definitely lost momentum .”

Diego was thoughtful. It was a difficult balance-- did one chase far horizons or hold tight to the simple things that were dear? La Huerta, with all its secrets, was so far removed from the rest of the world that the choice was often a stark one.

“You’re a really great mom, Tay,” he said. “I’m sure you hear it from Estela all the time, but you’re gonna get it from me too. What were we saying about the years flying by? I don’t think you’ll ever regret making Liv your priority while she’s small. The rest of the world isn’t going anywhere… and who can we thank for that?”

“Team effort,” Taylor stated, but she smiled at her friend. “I’ve always put too much pressure on myself. It’s probably an annoying by-product of what Vaanu made me for. Estela is much better adjusted to living in the moment. She’s done. She’s got her family, and anything else can just take a seat.”

Of course, personal experience of how suddenly loved-ones can be snatched away would do that to a person.

“But thank you. It really does mean a lot. If I can only be successful in one thing for the rest of my life, it’s my family, no questions asked. I don’t wanna ever lose sight how lucky I am to have them… by all accounts I shouldn’t even still be here.”

“Yeah… you were never gonna belong anywhere else.” Diego leaned against a rock, easing into sitting down. “There’s actually something I should tell you….”

Taylor read the mood quickly; this was good news. She sat beside him, not minding the sand on her pyjamas.

“So….” He paused for effect. “It looks like I’ve got myself a book deal!”

“I’m sorry-- what? You didn’t lead with that, like, immediately--? Oh my god!”

“I know! It’s a lot to get my own head around, to be honest, but I figured you’d forgive me. I’ve been back-and-forth with a publisher-- they’re based in London-- and, uh, yeah. It’s really happening!”

Taylor squealed and hugged him, almost pulling them both off their perch and into the water. “Congratulations! You deserve this. You really deserve this.”

“It’s just crazy-- I can’t believe it!”

“I can,” Taylor said, beaming proudly.

Diego laughed out loud, “I know you can, you’re there with Varyyn heading up my cheer squad!”

“I’m on such a high right now; I mean, the logistics and everything it means keeps threatening to drag me down, but I want to spend at least a little while longer feeling the accomplishment. I’ve actually got a publisher on board!”

Taylor took his hand and grasped it tight. She understood. Nothing was ever easy so long as La Huerta and everything that came with it remained prominent in their lives; they wouldn’t change it for the world, so they just made space for that complication, that emotional upheaval.

“The ins and outs you’ll work out. We’ll work out, because the cheer squad isn’t going to leave you high and dry, not for anything. You’re right to want to bask in this-- it’s huge.”

“Yeah, huge is the word.”

Editors, schedules, marketing, interviews… it was a world away from what Diego’s life was now. Did he even know how to fit in outside La Huerta? He could barely manage such a feat before that fateful summer vacation.

“We’ll be behind you, all the way,” Taylor said firmly. She looked out at the sea. It would be hard to leave this place; even harder for Diego, who could not do so with his partner, his soulmate, at his side. “And you know… we have a pilot on Catalyst International’s books. I’m not saying we could get you home in a jiffy or anything, but you’d just have to say the word.”

Diego gave a dry chuckle. “A private plane? What happened to CI’s environmental consciousness?” he ribbed.

“Oh, don’t you worry. We’ll plant more than enough trees to cover your footprint. You know how much Estela likes throwing money at trees. And you, actually. Consider us investors.”

She knew it took a lot for Diego not to protest. Accepting tangible support and backing was uncomfortable, but with his Catalyst family, a helping hand could be taken. He knew well enough he’d do the same for any of them in a heartbeat.

Diego met Taylor’s eye, and smiled at her. “Okay. I’ll take it; I’m not too proud.”

Taylor smiled back, and exhaled contentedly, allowing herself to just enjoy what she had. This beautiful place in the world where she belonged, her best friend beside her, out in their pyjamas beneath a million twinkling stars.

Two Hours to Midnight

“What do you think? I thought you might like this one.”

In all honesty, fractal art was not Estela’s cup of tea. Some of the pieces were admittedly striking to look at, and she admired the depth of skill and knowledge that went into them, but it was hard to connect to them emotionally.

This one gave her pause. The eerie familiarity of the colours and shapes. For a few moments, Estela was uncertain whether she liked it a lot, or hated it.

“How did you do it, Grace?” she asked, transfixed. This wasn’t just plain old shapes and patterns, this was a journey through the fabric of time and space.

“A lot of experimentation,” Grace replied, her features lighting up at the response she’d gotten. She’d always felt her sister-in-law’s genuine support, but she’d never really reacted much to any of the pieces before. “It felt as though I was on a journey through another plane… just like when we sought the Heart.”

“It’s got… the feel of it. Huh.” Estela shook her head, finding herself getting caught up. “I’ll have a copy of that one off you. I-- if that’s okay.”

Grace laughed gently and hugged her. “Of course. The offer has always been there. Maybe you and Taylor can help me think of what to call it. I think this one needs a meaningful title.”

She paused, taking measure of her companion.

“I’ve been meaning to ask how you’re doing,” Grace said. “I know it’s not always easy.”

Estela took a moment to take stock of herself, to give an honest answer. She’d shed a few tears earlier, but it had been a good night. Dinner with her family was usually a good time, and the kids had their way of keeping her busy enough that she couldn’t dwell on sad anniversaries. She’d indulged Aleister a little bit of shop talk; one of the hopes they shared for the next year was to work out an effective way to invest in San Trobida’s education system-- and bring them closer to offloading the vast bulk of their inherited riches. Diego and Varyyn had been good company; full of the joys as was usually the case when it came to the anniversary of their first kiss. Taylor was in her element, laughing the night away between quite moments of connection with her friends, and Liv… well, she just lapped up the attention. Estela felt… content.

“I’m fine,” she said at last. “New Years is always… everything all at once. Kind of like how that makes me feel.” She nodded toward Grace’s fractal masterpiece. “Everything that’s good, it all stands out more because it’s set against pain and sadness.”

Estela blushed a little at Grace’s thoughtful gaze upon her. You know, ‘fine, thanks’ would have been enough.

“The shadows give the light significance,” Grace observed.

“Yeah…,” said Estela quietly. She didn’t really want to talk on it anymore. She’d done her hurting and moved into a place of peace, at least as far as this new year was concerned.

“Do you… do you have plans for this year? I guess your exhibition is huge….”

Grace smiled broadly. “It really is! I’m excited, but it’s daunting with Reggie to consider. I’ve set myself the goal of reading more; personal learning is something that’s fallen by the wayside-- especially with the sleep regressions we’ve been having. But I need to learn to make ‘me’ time, even if it’ll take work to train myself that I deserve it.”

“Just takes practice like anything else,” Estela commented. She knew self-love wasn’t something that came easily for Grace, but she’d already come so far in treating herself better.

“We’re back!” came a call from the other room. Diego. It had struck Estela as excessive that he’d felt the need to traipse all the way to Elyys’tel to put on his pyjamas if the actual goal was to unwind. Perhaps he’d just wanted the feel of a late-night adventure, even for something so mundane.

The group gathered together again in Aleister and Grace’s lounge, Estela having brought Taylor into a cuddle half-perched on her lap, while Diego had settled on the rug while Varyyn lovingly played with his hair from behind. It was cosy. Estela was certain she preferred this to the more extravagant celebrations had with a larger group; she was probably never going to be a big party person.

Diego left the room briefly before enthusiastically placing down a casette-style box on the coffee table. “Blockbuster time! We’ve gotta split into two teams--”

“You don’t mind if Grace and I hop onto your side?” Aleister piped up swiftly. “I’ve always had better things to do with my life than stare slack-jawed at a screen, and you-- er, balance out the gaps in my knowledge.”

So, the group split. Estela imagined that she, Taylor and Varyyn might have an uphill battle on their hands to best Diego at Blockbuster: The Game.

Taylor cracked her knuckles. “All right, Diego. You and me for the first head-to-head? You might have written the book on this stuff, but I’m not going down easy!”

One Hour to Midnight

“Well,” Aleister said, passing Grace a steaming mug of cocoa, “it wasn’t my favourite game, but I think we performed admirably.”

She chuckled. “In no small part due to Diego!”

Aleister had a mind to add ‘and Estela’s being useless at charades’ but made the choice to be nice. Instead, he snuggled up to his beloved wife and took a sip of his drink.

It was an odd sort of family they had, but nowadays… he wouldn’t change a single part of that messy tapestry for the world. Estela had long been a challenge for him. That belligerence, Aleister had come to realise, had actually been a gift, holding him accountable as he took over Rourke International and their father’s estate. Estela didn’t mince her words, and he’d come to respect that about her.

But no… she was no good at charades. Both Estela and Taylor were all but crashed out on the other couch, surely feeling the late night. Late nights were something parents of toddlers were not best equipped for.

Aleister yawned widely. “Heavens-- is it just me, or does midnight feel later every year? I can barely keep my eyes open.”

A soft smile on her face, Grace nuzzled against his cheek. “Just hold out a little longer, sugar. We don’t want our guests to have to carry us to bed!”

Oh, the indignity. No. They couldn’t have that.

Still, he let himself close his eyes to the feel of Grace, warm against him. Another year, side by side. It had been New Year’s the first time they made love, hiding out from a looming enemy. How things had changed…. Aleister had been so afraid back then, barely trusting himself to believe in the friendships he was forming. He came so close to squandering them, to losing Grace, all because fear made him a lesser man. Grace had always been different, though; she was downright courageous. Possibly even more scared than he was, and yet she faced every challenge head-on, and with a kind and open heart. Without her, would he have been brave enough to embrace such qualities in himself? He doubted it. Grace believed in him then as she believed in him now, and it turned his world around.

“Is it next year ye-e-e-e-et?” came the ominous sound of a toddler’s voice. Reginald, awake.

Aleister groaned out loud. “There’s no peace for the wicked, is there?”

Diego sighed sympathetically. “Reggie’s Hot-Cocoa Sense must be tingling!”

And then--

“Maaamaaaaa--”

“Welp, there’s the other one!” Diego laughed.

“Oh, god, Liv!” Taylor grunted, hauling herself from the couch. “I’ll get her. See if I can settle Reggie as well.”

She was, however, unsuccessful, and the gang were joined by Reginald and Liv for the scheduled group call.

“Happy birthday, Michelle!” they all chorused-- except for Liv, who lacked the vocabulary.

Michelle beamed. “Thank you. Apparently, doing the call before midnight is the key to not getting forgotten.”

“Jeez, one time,” Craig muttered. “And I forgot Taylor, and she was actually on that day!”

“Are we going to all count down together?” Quinn asked eagerly. “It’ll be almost like old times.”

Jake snorted. “What, and I’ll just awkwardly hang around watching when y’all are making out at midnight? Sounds fun. Really.”

“Hey,” said Taylor, grinning, “Liv will blow you a kiss, I’m sure. No one’s allowed to feel unloved.”

“Still… hard pass.”

Group video calls, Aleister had long since decided, were vastly overrated. The more domineering, outgoing personalities always took over, and those who didn’t fancy crowding around a screen were unintentionally edged out. Not Reginald, though. He was on Taylor’s lap, which was to say, in the thick of things.

“Happy birthday, ‘Chelle!” Reggie said again, for birthdays were a subject he knew enough about to confidently converse. “What’s you?”

Grace was on hand as translator. “He’s asking what number you turned today. What age are you?”

“Oh-- thanks Grace! I need to brush up my ‘toddler-ese’. I’m twenty-nine today, Reg! The same number as Daddy, I’m pretty sure.”

“Wow!” came the awed reply, as if Michelle had just told him that she was some ancient being from the dawn of time. “I’m two.”

“Being two is the best,” Raj gushed. “Make sure you live it up, dudeling.”

“I’m not ‘dudeling’, I’m Reggie!”

Aleister couldn’t help but smile. That’s my boy. More than that… Reggie was confident, even for a naturally shy boy, knowing he’d be listened to. Their odd little family could only ever raise him up. Perhaps, he thought, they’d ensure this coming year allowed more opportunities for Reggie to connect with this village; surely, Quinn and Michelle’s wedding would be the perfect excuse. By Reggie’s age, Aleister was already a lonely child, unloved and barely wanted; it would not be a repeated cycle, of that he was sure.

Countdown

Varyyn’s heartbeat quickened. He could read Diego like a book; how much this meant to him. Just a moment, commemorating another moment, but that was the moment that changed everything. Varyyn could see Diego swallow hard, nervous anticipation, exhilaration. It could be that night under the dancing lights all over again. How marvellous to have such vulnerability, to be laid bare and offer oneself in tenderness.

“It always feels important,” Diego said quietly. “I don’t want to ever not appreciate it, appreciate you.”

“Knowing you, I do not believe it is even possible.

“So, uh, happy seven years.”

“Variego forever!”

Diego giggled helplessly, but pulled himself together as Grace began the count-- with little Reginald counting down along with her.

“Ten, nine, eight….”

Liv passed out in her arms, Taylor leaned expectantly toward Estela, beside her on the couch. She mouthed an ‘I love you’, and the smile in return told her it had been heard.

“...seven, six….” Estela joined in. She shuffled even closer, so she could see every faint freckle on smattering the bridge of Taylor’s nose.

“...five, four, three….”

Watching his little boy count down the numbers on his mother’s fingers, Aleister could feel his heart swell dangerously. It was the little moments that mattered. He looked over to Taylor and Estela, whispering in the New Year so as to not wake Liv, who appeared misleadingly angelic in slumber. Then to Diego and Varyyn, who had eyes only for one another; it was their anniversary after all.

He met Grace’s eye. Lovely beyond words, bright in every sense.

“...two, one….”

“Happy New Year!” came the whispered chorus, which gave way to quiet. Varyyn cupped Diego’s smiling face and drew him into a tender kiss, which deepened as they lingered there. Estela kissed Taylor softly, gentle as necessary to not disturb the sleeping baby, then went in for another-- one for Taylor’s birthday.

“Kissy-kissy-kissy!” Reggie chortled, looking up at his parents, and watching as his father immediately flushed pink.

“Don’t mind if I do!” Grace jumped up on her tippy-toes and gave Aleister a smooch. “Happy New Year, sweetheart!”

And he had to laugh, affection bubbling up within him. He kissed Grace again, while at their feet, Reggie loudly asked why it was still dark if it was tomorrow.

“Because, my little love,” Aleister replied, “it is so very early in the morning that it is still night. And I think it’s about time we were all off to bed.” He held out his hand to his little son, then led him across the room so he could offer his other hand to Estela, who took Taylor’s hand, who took Diego’s, who took Varyyn’s, who took Grace-- completing the circle with the yawning Reggie.

Quietly, Aleister began to sing. “Should old acquaintance be forgot, And never brought to mind?”

The squeeze of his sister’s fingers and the knowing smile meant much. This occasion was, to her, one of hurt, but she allowed it to be something different. Something hopeful. For all of them, a year up ahead could be faced with courage and optimism, hand in hand.

All of that is to say - even though they weren’t exactly close, she felt very at ease right then, talking to Varyyn in the kitchen as they prepared to make food for Diego. He had spent the week in California, visiting abuela Claudia and having some last-minute meetings that the editors insisted couldn’t be done remotely. He would be back in La Huerta in just a few hours, and Varyyn, the romantic that he was, wanted to welcome him with homemade food.

The problem, of course, was that Varyyn was not even particularly skilled at making Vaanti food, nevermind Mexican food. But since Estela was the only Catalyst at the island by then and she was well used to cooking for herself, she offered to help. Also, she had been to just about every country in Latin America, aiding in a revolution or another; she might not be an expert in Mexican cuisine, but she was probably the best help Varyyn could get.

(Well, except for Raj. And probably Milagros, who seemed to be able to draw infinite knowledge out of thin air. She still wondered how the hell Vaanu created him with the ability to drive a jet ski. But Milagros wasn’t there anymore and Raj was busy with his TV show, so Estela was the best realistic option.)

So in short - Estela was feeling very at ease, very confident in herself, peaceful even, maybe just a little sad, but mostly alright, when she calmly and unsuspectingly asked Varyyn what he was planning on making. A normal and predictable question that would, in an ideal world, lead to a normal and predictable conversation.

But there were few adjectives that applied less to La Huerta than “normal” and “predictable”, so naturally Varyyn responded by scratching his head and saying, “I was wondering if you knew how to make, ah…” he paused for a bit, as if trying to build the sentence in his head, “los Colombianos también tienen conchas?”

Do Colombian men also have pussies?

As Estela’s soul left her body, she contemplated her options. She would have been more than happy to stick with option one - set something on fire and stage an escape - but there was some merit to the idea that she could be mature and normal. She didn’t have many flammable items at her disposal, and it had been a pain for them to build this house for the Catalysts, anyway.

And anyway, apparently someone had to have this conversation with Varyyn, and better her than- actually, she couldn’t think of anyone worse to handle this conversation. Where was Michelle when you needed her? Estela was sure that she would have been able to handle this remarkably.

“No. I mean, yes. Well, some of them,” this was why she let Tío Nicolas handle the whole talking and motivating part of planning revolutions. “It’s not- okay, so did Diego explain to you what ‘trans’ and ‘cis’ mean?” Varyyn nodded, cocking his head curiously. “Okay, great. So, hm, there are trans and cis people all over the world, anywhere. It doesn’t really have anything to do with where they’re from. There are plenty of cis men in México, and plenty of trans men in Colombia. Diego just happens to be trans and Mexican.”

Varyyn looked at her in confusion. “And only trans men have conchas?” he asked, like he couldn’t wrap his head around the concept.

That… Was a question she didn’t see coming. What else did he think being trans was about? Maybe the Vaanti’s gender system has nothing to do with genitals. Maybe their genitals are completely different from those of a human. Maybe Estela doesn’t want to keep pursuing thoughts of Varyyn’s genitals. “Yes, only trans men.”

“I see,” Varyyn said, nodding thoughtfully. Estela was just about to pat herself in the back for how she handled this conversation. And then he added: “so you don’t have a concha, then?”

Why is this happening to me, Estela wondered. She didn’t believe in god or karma or anything like that, but she still believed that she never did anything so bad that she deserved this. Well, except for all the murder. But that was justified. If anything, surely she had already had her lifetime’s fill of psychological torture, what with her mother being killed and the entire summer of 2017. And yet, this was her terrible reality: standing there alone in a kitchen with Varyyn, being asked about her genitals, too shocked to do something like launch herself through the window and roll down the cliff and into the sea - anything but answering him.

“Uhm, that’s not- I mean, uh. Well I guess I, I do. I am a woman and… That is to say, cis women have them too,” she said, eloquently.

“You look red,” Varyyn noted.

“Yes. It’s the blood.”

Varyyn looked alarmed. “Blood? Where?”

“In my. Mind.” Estela shook her head. “Let’s start this over.”

“But you said there was blood!” Varyyn replies, frantically searching Estela for injuries.

“No. Well, I mean, yes. But that’s normal. We all have blood.”

Varyyn looked at Estela. Estela looked at Varyyn back. They both looked at each other.

“Anyway.” She continued, “I was just, uh, a little taken aback by your question. I mean, the Vaanti blush too, don’t they? Seraxa looked very purple during the whole ‘Grandma’ incident a while back. I thought she was on the verge of death or something, but then I remembered that red and blue equals purple,” she was kind of rambling by then, and suddenly she realized that she probably should change the topic of this conversation. “Anyway, we should get to baking. This is gonna take a few hours, and Diego is going to board the plane soon.”

As always, the mention of Diego successfully distracted Varyyn. “Yes. Of course,” he nodded.

For a few seconds, she thought there would be peace. She should’ve known that concept would remain as foreign as ever to her, because right after-

“Have you ever tried Diego’s concha?” Estela wondered if it was too late to convert back to Catholicism and ask god to come to her aid. Why did Varyyn keep coming back to this?

“I’m a lesbian,” she answered, because she really didn’t know how else to reply to this question.

Varyyn nodded, but he also frowned slightly. “I’m aware,” he replied, like that didn’t mean anything.

Estela just looked at him, stunned. Was Varyyn… Transphobic? That didn’t seem to make sense. She knew the Vaanti had a sex binary, of course, but they didn’t seem to particularly care about gender, and Diego had told her many times that it was a relief to see how no one cared about that. But maybe they didn’t care because they saw only sex. Maybe Varyyn still saw him differently.

“Diego is a man,” she said, her voice like steel.

“...Yes.” Varyyn was looking at her like she was fucking stupid, which was pretty unfair, considering he was the one who wasn’t making any sense.

“Lesbians… Are not attracted to men.”

“Diego has informed me of the human titles regarding one’s sexual preferences,” he even had the gall to act like he was confused.

“So why would you think I would do that?”

“Why wouldn’t you?” he shrugged, “Diego’s concha is delicious.”

I am dead and this is hell, she thought. That wasn’t true, of course. She wished she was dead. She wished for many things. She wished she had never learnt the Spanish language. A lifetime of cultural displacement would have been worth it if she didn’t get to experience this. She wished it was socially acceptable to shove her head into the sand to avoid awkward conversations. Actually, thinking about it, she didn’t really know how the Vaanti would see that. Maybe they would be perfectly fine with it. Maybe it was time someone put that to the test.

“You look troubled,” Varyyn observed.

God. How could she even begin to explain this to him? “We just, hm, don’t really talk about stuff like this,” she replied, rubbing the back of her neck, “it’s taboo. You know what taboo means, right?” Estela waited until Varyyn nodded. “Right. So it’s best if you don’t go around telling anyone about conchas, or-” she suddenly realized that she really didn’t want to say ‘verga’ to Varyyn, or in front of Varyyn, or within a hundred mile radius of Varyyn, or possibly to anyone ever, “-anything like that.”

Varyyn's eyes looked very wide. “Oh, really?” He said, his voice a bit too awed and vulnerable for this conversation, “I had no idea. It was the first thing Diego showed me.”

Slutshaming is bad, Estela reminded herself, but she really couldn't help but wonder how Diego managed to meet Varyyn pussy first. His clothes were a little torn when they rescued him but it was nothing that bad. Then again, she wasn't exactly checking for crotch tears.

“How taboo is it? You seem like close friends, so is that… Family only?”

She would assume he was doing this on purpose if it weren't for the absolutely wondrous look on his face. “Uh, you probably won't want to show that to your family either. It's more of an intimate partners thing,” seriously, did the Vaanti just show their junk to anybody? Estela thought she would have probably noticed that. Then again, Diego had a 6 months headstart to take the brunt of the cultural shock. Did he get them to cover their stuff before the rest of them were back? Because if so, Estela had a lot to thank him for. Maybe he would appreciate a fruit basket.

“Truly? Did he… Did he really trust me that much, even back then?”

The look on his face was so awed and sweet, Estela even felt her embarrassment ebbing away. As much as she didn't want to know the details of their sex life, the way this obviously meant a lot to Varyyn tugged at her heartstrings. Cultural shock could be awful sometimes, but the two of them always made it look wonderful.

“Well, I can't really speak for the circumstances, but- yes, I do think so. Especially considering that he's trans.”

Varyyn nodded. “If this is a sign of intimacy, I should see to getting Diego some as soon as possible.”

Why

was this happening to her?

“It's not… I mean, I don't think it's about the concha itself. More… The act,” she was pretty sure she'd never been this red before, “that is to say, I'm sure what you've been giving Diego is just as good.”

Varyyn cocked his head curiously, so, in a desperate attempt to avoid further questions, she made a vague gesture towards him that she hoped would convey that dicks were not lesser lovemaking appendages or… Something. Varyyn frowned, then turned towards the counter behind him, still full of ingredients, and she supposed that was at least enough to distract him, because he looked even more concentrated on finishing Diego's meal. He nodded.

“Well, I can see this subject is bothering you, so we shall speak of it no further,” suddenly, Estela understood, clear as day, why Diego fell in love with this man so fast. “Let's focus on what you're comfortable with instead. What kind of desserts do you usually make in Colombia?”

Bit of a non-sequitur, but okay. Desserts were fine, desserts were safe. Estela could work with that. Desserts certainly couldn’t lead to that kind of awkward conversation.

“Well, there’s a lot. Dulce de brevas, postre de natas, flan de coco, enyucada…” Varyyn nodded politely, but he kept glancing at the table, and suddenly she understood. “But I don’t think those will be very familiar to Diego. I was thinking we could make churros.” Not exactly Mexican per se, but popular enough in… All of Latin America, really, that she knew how to make them.

Besides, she was pretty sure Varyyn could give him raw rice and Diego would still be grateful. Emotional even. He was a big fan of single tears running down cheeks and stuff.

So she showed him the steps, and he only mildly fucked it up (a good portion of the first batch was nearly lost because he gripped the piping bag like he was trying to strangle a tiger), and they continued working on Diego’s meal - chilaquiles with frijoles refritos and huevo estallado, nothing fancy but good and simple enough that they have time to fix any mistakes they (Varyyn) might make.

It actually went smoothly.

Until Diego arrived.

Varyyn immediately dropped the last churro into the hot oil, nearly hitting Estela with the skin-melting droplets, and dashed towards the cabin door. “Diego!” he exclaimed in joy, as if he thought he was dead, or something.

Diego laughed. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of reuniting with you.”

“Mhm,” Varyyn replied, sounding suspiciously like he had his face buried in Diego’s hair, “your editor meetings are very long.”

“You have no idea,” Diego sighed, finally making his way inside, before a wooshing sound made him yelp. “Oh, you really missed me, huh?”

“It’s not that. Although I did,” Estela could practically hear his smile, “it’s just, I was talking to Estela…”

“Estela?”

She emerged and waved. She did pride herself on her good entrance timing, and the churro had already been removed from the frying oil. “Hey, Guito.”

“Ohh, is that why it smells like food in here?” He grinned. “You know, as opposed to burning charcoal?”

Varyyn smiled slyly. “Estela has been a great help.” Then his face suddenly turned serious, “but that’s not what I wanted to say. Estela told me that conchas were something you only share with an intimate partner. I just… Thank you, Diego, for trusting me so much.” He sounded way too emotional for such a… Well, she'd have to think of qualifiers later, conversation.

Diego flushed in a way that would make Estela feel vindicated if he didn't look so pleased. “I mean… I never really thought of it that way. Is it for weddings in Colombia?”

Was Diego asking her if Colombians save themselves for after marriage? Did he think they were in the Middle Ages or something? “We're notthat old fashioned, Diego, Jesus.”

“Woah, okay, didn't think this was a sore spot,” he said, raising both hands as if Estela was about to put him in a headlock. “It's just not really like that in México? It's pretty casual. A breakfast thing, mostly.”

“A… Breakfast thing?” What in the actual hell was this conversation? Were Mexicans partial to morning sex? And if so, why must she learn about it?

“Yes?” Diego looked puzzled. “Why do you look so shocked? When exactly do Colombians eat conchas?”

“That's- we don't have a set time for it!” God, please, if you're real, smite me now.

God, once again, proved to not be real. “Alright then. Guess I'll avoid serving you conchas in the near future, just to be sure.”

Estela truly prayed that “serving conchas” meant the same thing in México that it did in English, because if not, then what the hell?

Actually, even in that context, what the hell?

“What the hell?”

“What?” Diego asked, looking like he was the one having a conversation that’s completely insane.

“I just, why is everyone so sure that I'd like to eat your-” God, she could feel the red crawling up her face, “just, yours, of all people?”

“Well, now I can't help but be offended. What's wrong with my-”

“Nothing! I mean, I wouldn't know! I don't want to know! You're handfasted to Varyyn anyway, why would you want me to eat your-”

“Again, it's seriously not that big of a deal for us. You can let anyone have your conchas, it's fine-”

“Diego, my love, I feel you're being culturally insensitive. This is clearly important to Colombians, maybe we should just let her be. More for us, anyway. And your other friends, if they're alright with that.”

What. “Are you guys looking for… Threesome partners?” Her voice sounded a bit squeaky.

“No?”

“What's a threesome?”, asked Varyyn.

“Don't worry about it,” the two of them said in worryingly perfect sync.

“Weird thing to proposition out of nowhere, Estela, Jesus. Like, no offense, but we're happy together. Also, I thought you were a lesbian?”

Estela endured years of training to withstand the worst kinds of conditions, which was the only thing keeping her from falling to her knees in agony. “That's what I've been saying!”

“Okay, I can't help but feel like we're having wildly different conversations. What's the deal with conchas in Colombia?”

“There’s no deal-”

“Then why are you being so weird about sweet bread?”

“What?”

“What?”

They stared at each other.

“I believe we are all lost,” Varyyn said solemnly.

“You know, conchas? Sweet bread with crunchy toppings, usually shaped like shells?”

“...Oh,” Estela said, feeling this moment brand itself into her brain to be revisited every time she tried to sleep for the next thousand years. “Oh, god,” she said, crouching and hugging her knees. She didn’t know whether to be relieved or mortified. Varyyn and Diego weren’t asking her to have oral sex with him in the middle of the kitchen. They wanted to make sweet bread.

They were talking about pastries the whole time.

She buried her face in her knees and willed La Huerta to regain its time-messing properties to propel her to the past and keep this from ever happening, but the universe, as ever, didn’t listen. No gods, energies, or saints had ever come to her aid. She had nothing in this world but herself, and it was up to her to deal with this situation.

“Pussy,” she said, miserable.

“...What?” Diego looked like he was going insane.

“Concha,” she said, in English, gritting her teeth and willing herself to withstand the agonizing embarrassment, “means pussy. In Colombia.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Estela agreed.

“Oh, god.”

“Yeah,” Estela agreed.

Diego also slid into the floor and buried his face in his knees. Faint groaning could be heard from his general direction.

“So when Varyyn said he had my concha, you thought he meant-”

“Yeah.”

“And when I said you should try mine, you thought I meant-”

“Yeah.”

“And when-”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, my god.”

“I believe I’m still lost,” Varyyn said. “What’s a pussy?”

“Varyyn, no,” Diego exclaimed, making exact the same face he did when they found Varyyn in the Observatory, “it’s not too late for you. Save yourself.”

“Vagina,” Estela said immediately afterwards. “Pussy is a crass word for vagina.”

“Oh,” Varyyn said, suddenly turning purple. “Oh.”

“Oh,” Diego agreed.

“Oh,” Estela groaned.

They contemplated the truth of those words, each from their spot on the floor.

*

Varyyn eventually cleared his throat. “So, to be clear, there is nothing special about baking someone conchas? You were talking about making love?”

“Try to look less upset, we're literally married.”

“I was feeling very special,” Varyyn smirked.

“Yeah, I bet you were.”

Estela groaned, mostly to remind them that she was still there. The last thing she needed was to end up… witnessing… something again.

*

The world keeps spinning and waits for no one, and humans (and Vaanti) need to eat. So after making the two of them promise to not tell this to anyone else and double checking that Varyyn was not crossing his fingers, they marched to the table like warriors, intent on finishing the day on a positive note.

Estela was surprised to find that the conversation moved smoothly, mostly thanks to Diego’s unwavering talent at running his mouth, and Varyyn’s appreciation of it. As frustrating as editors' meetings were, he was very proud of his book, and the fact that he already knew it would be a bestseller didn’t hurt either. Estela wasn’t exactly familiarized with most of the media he talked about, but when he talked about it, she suddenly understood how magic stories could be. His excitement was contagious, his insights were unique, and the stories filled the room like they once filled his ever-so-lonely heart.

All of that is to say, Estela was feeling fine, recovered even, maybe still a little embarrassed, but mostly alright, when-

“Wait,” Varyyn said. “When you said that what I was giving Diego was just as good, you meant-”

INT. ELYSIAN LODGE RESORT - LOBBY

Several hours later, the sun is just beginning to set outside the windows of the Elysian Lodge’s expansive lobby, which has been completely transformed into an ornate party room, complete with marked-out dance floor in the center of the area. A series of tables laden with food have been set up near the walls, with a haphazard arrangement of various candles scattered around. Craig, dressed in a tight-fitting dress shirt and tie, leads Furball around the room as the little fox freeze a series of impromptu “ice coolers” around the bottles of champagne and other drinks scattered about.

CRAIG: Nice job, little guy!

FURBALL (proudly): Mrrrrrffff!

Raj emerges from the kitchen, dressed in a suit and tie with an apron over it, bringing another food-laden tray out into the lobby. Quinn follows close behind with a tray of desserts, a similar apron to Raj covering her ornate blue dress.

QUINN: Where should I put these?

RAJ: Over here is good!

He indicates a table, and she sets her tray down. Raj looks down at one of the fruit trays and frowns.

RAJ: Hey… has someone been eating all the strawberries?

CRAIG: Don’t look at me… but I think I spotted Alyssa usin’ some strawberries to practice her Time Lord stuff.

RAJ: Aww… (brightens) Ah, never mind! Good for her. If I know anything, it’s that the Time Twins are gonna be the key to getting us out of this place. Besides, there’s still a bunch more fresh strawberries in the kitchen fridge!

FURBALL (excitedly): Ffrrrruuulll!

A few of the Vaanti trickle in, all wearing haphazard mismatches of formalwear. Varyyn, dressed impeccably in a suit and tie, accompanies them.

VARYYN: Hello, Centaurus. I am told today is your people’s New Year celebration. I thank you for inviting us.

Varyyn bows deeply. Raj blushes and laughs.

RAJ: No need to be so formal, Varyyn! You invited us to your festival the other day, the least we can do is return the favor!

Michelle and Ian enter the lobby, chatting animatedly about school. Michelle is wearing a sparkling golden dress, while Ian is dressed in a black tuxedo with matching bowtie.

MICHELLE: --so I think you’d only need one more bio elective if you already finished Genetics and Ecology. And the MCAT, of course, but I’m pretty sure you can take that anytime…

Michelle’s voice trails off as she sees the newly redecorated lobby. Behind her, Sean and Grace walk in, chatting excitedly to one another.

MICHELLE: Wow! Look at this place; Raj, you did all this?

Raj turns and grins broadly at her.

RAJ: Yep! With plenty of help, of course. Quinn here was--

He stops abruptly when he turns and sees Quinn is no longer in the lobby. He frowns, puzzled.

RAJ: …Uh, Quinn was right here a minute ago. Huh.

IAN: This place looks amazing! Perfect for a Raj party!

RAJ: Haha, thanks!

ALYSSA (O.S.): Alright, let’s get this thing started!

Alyssa strides confidently into the lobby, wearing a long white dress with a plunging neckline. Michelle looks her up and down approvingly.

MICHELLE: Wow. Looking good, Alyssa!

ALYSSA: Thanks, Michelle! You too!

Alyssa frowns as she looks around the room, evidently searching for something.

RAJ: Hey, Alyssa, everything okay?

ALYSSA: Yeah, I’m fine, just.. y’seen Top Gun anywhere?

It takes Raj a moment to realize who she is referring to.

RAJ: Oh, you mean Jake? Actually, I haven’t seen him since--

A sudden commotion from the top of the lobby stairs draws Raj’s (and everyone else’s) attention. Emerging from the second-floor hallway, Jake, Estela, Quinn, Diego, Aleister, and Zahra stand on the landing, all fully done-up and impeccably dressed. Alyssa, Ian, Michelle, Varyyn, Grace, and Craig all stare open-mouthed at the sight of their respective significant others, completely lost for words. Estela frowns.

ESTELA: What? What are you all looking at?

RAJ: Hey, there you all are! Come and join the party!

All of them descend the staircase, though Estela is blushing heavily as she does so. She doesn’t look entirely comfortable in her formal dress. When she reaches the bottom of the stairs, she beelines immediately for Ian.

IAN (stunned): I… uh. You. Wow.

ESTELA (shyly): I… I know Raj wanted us to dress up for New Year’s, but I never… really went to big parties or anything. Is this right?

Ian smiles warmly at her as he takes her hand in his.

IAN: More than right. Wow. Uh... I actually can’t even think of any other words right now.

In spite of herself, Estela giggles.

ESTELA: You… uh, you’re looking pretty good yourself.

Ian blushes heavily. Near the back of the room, Raj plugs his phone into the stereo system, but nothing happens. He frowns.

RAJ (frustrated): Damn, and here I thought this would work…

Craig and Zahra approach him.

CRAIG: Man, can’t believe it’s been a whole year already.

ZAHRA (frowning): …It hasn’t. We skipped six months, remember?

CRAIG: Oh. Right. Duh. I knew that!

ZAHRA: Raj, y’need some help?

RAJ: Yeah, I’m tryin’ to get the music working, but…

Zahra takes his phone in her hands and fiddles with it for a few moments. Before long, party music starts playing through the whole resort.

RAJ: Awesome! Thanks, my dudes!

CRAIG: Anytime!

ZAHRA: Craig, you didn’t do anything.

CRAIG: What? Naw, I… uh…

Any retort he may have had is cut short when he looks back at her in her formal dress. Craig can only stare open-mouthed.

ZAHRA: Huh. Guess there may be perks to dressin’ up like this after all…

Zahra playfully reaches out a finger and closes Craig’s mouth for him. Near one of the tables, Jake pours himself a glass of whiskey and raises it into the air.

JAKE: So! Who’s up for a toast?

ALYSSA: Personally, I can’t believe I’m still sober. Drink, please!

ESTELA: What are we having?

Jake grins and glances toward Ian.

JAKE: Why don’t we let Hero Boy pick?

IAN (surprised): I… what?!

ALYSSA (smirks): You heard him, “Hero Boy.”

Ian looks nervously at the assortment of drinks laid out on the table, feeling put on the spot.

IAN: I, uh…

Alyssa nudges him, glancing meaningfully toward the glass of whiskey in Jake’s hand.

IAN: Alright, how about this one?

He grabs a similar glass to Jake and pours himself some whiskey as well, then pours two more glasses for Alyssa and Estela. Estela takes a sniff of her glass and frowns.

ESTELA: What is this? It smells like sawdust.

JAKE: Trust me, there’s an art to whiskey. Now, the key to appreciating it is--

ESTELA: Getting it over with. Cheers.

She clinks her glass against Ian’s and throws back the whiskey. She winces.

ESTELA: It burns.

IAN: That bad, huh? Sorry, I--

ESTELA: Pour me another.

JAKE: Looks like Dragon Rage’s a fan, y’all.

Ian pours Estela another shot of whiskey as the four of them clink glasses and toast to the new year. In another area of the party, Varyyn and a few of his Vaanti warriors sip their own drinks as they chat with Diego, Lila, Raj, and Quinn.

VARYYN: It is interesting that your people count your years. You say this year is…?

DIEGO: Well, in a few more hours, it’s about to be 2018.

RAJ: Y’know what Varyyn here needs? One of those party sunglasses with the year on ‘em. Then he’ll never forget!

He, Quinn, Lila, and Diego burst into laughter. Diego claps Varyyn’s shoulder and pulls him into a hug.

DIEGO: Varyyn, I know you probably don’t get it right now, but we will take a picture next year while wearing those, okay?

VARYYN (warmly): I trust your judgement, my light.

Diego and Varyyn snuggle into one another as Quinn glances wistfully across the room. The camera follows her gaze to where Michelle stands chatting idly with a few of the others…

Some time later, the sun has set and most of the Catalysts are noticeably tipsier than they were previously. Several of the Vaanti warriors excitedly clink glasses of whiskey together with a triumphant cheer, then all down their drinks in one shot as Zahra looks on approvingly after downing her own glass.

ZAHRA: Doin’ great, guys! Now this is a New Year’s party!

Behind her, Aleister takes a seat at the grand piano as Michelle stands beside him. The others all crowd around. Aleister begins to play Auld Lang Syne.

MICHELLE (singing): Should auld acquaintance be forgot, and never come to mind…

Aleister accompanies her, infusing each note with a delicate, classical touch. A few people sniff back tears, including Quinn and Grace.

MICHELLE (singing): For auld lang syne, my dear, for auld lang syne…

Alyssa looks pensively up toward the ceiling while Jake wraps an arm around her. Estela and Ian look deep into one another’s eyes. Raj sniffs back a tear. As Michelle begins the final part of the song, Quinn stands up and joins her:

MICHELLE AND QUINN (singing): We’ll take a cup of kindness yet, For auld lang syne!

Everyone bursts into applause. Aleister stands and takes a formal bow. Quinn and Michelle look at one another; Michelle is the first to blush and look away. Jake walks up and claps Aleister on the back.

JAKE: Nice job, Schroeder. Didn’t think you had it in you.

ALEISTER: Ah. You are most welcome. I did enjoy that quite--

RAJ: Whoa! Everyone, hold up! I almost forgot; we still gotta sing “Happy Birthday!”

Everyone looks back at Raj. He grins broadly and gestures to the crowd.

RAJ: Dunno if I mentioned it to everyone yet, but with the skip forward in time, we missed a bunch of birthdays! Including Aleister, and the Time Twins here! …Not to mention myself, of course!

He steps between Alyssa and Ian, pulling them both into a group hug.

RAJ: Anybody else we missed? Who’s had a birthday between… uh…

GRACE: June 6th and December 26th!

Aleister, Michelle, Craig, Quinn, Estela, Zahra, Raj himself, and the Czasa twins all raise their hands.

RAJ: Alright, cool! Aleister, if you don’t mind?

He gestures to the piano. Aleister nods and takes his seat once again at the keys.

DIEGO: Are we even allowed to sing it? I heard it was copyrighted--

CRAIG: Who’s gonna stop us, bro? Unless… (completely seriously) Dude, does Rourke own the rights to Happy Birthday? That’d be his most evil plan yet!

Zahra shakes her head and sighs. Aleister begins to play, and everyone else starts singing along, with the Vaanti catching on after the first few bars…

EVERYONE (singing): Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you! Happy birthday dear…

A variety of names are all shouted out at once. Ian makes a point to sing Estela’s name rather than his own, and she likewise sings his name in return. They both smile warmly at one another.

RAJ (excitedly): Dudes, that was flawless! Best birthday song ever!

CRAIG: Ha! Take that, Rourke!

Everyone applauds and hugs one another after the song. Lila stands off to one side, glancing around at the others with a strange expression on her face. She glances around furtively for a moment, then quietly slips upstairs as the others continue celebrating.

SEAN (shouting): Hey! Don’t forget, it’s only a few minutes ‘til midnight!

Everyone startles at this pronouncement, glancing at various clocks… which all show completely different times. Sean shrugs.

SEAN: Well… as close as I can tell, anyway. Who knows on this island?

ALYSSA (laughing): Fair enough. Alright, let’s do this!

RAJ: Craig, you ready for our master surprise?

CRAIG: You know it!

Craig and Raj lead the others up onto the roof of the Elysian Lodge. A large crate full of red flares has been set against one edge of the roof; Craig rushes toward it excitedly with a lighter in his hand.

MICHELLE (worriedly): Uh… guys?

JAKE: Are those flares?

Craig stops and turns around, grinning broadly.

CRAIG: Yup! One of those commando dudes dropped ‘em! Me and Raj thought--

JAKE (fiercely): Don’t you dare light those--

RAJ: Aww, c’mon, don’t ruin our fun! I’d have thought you’d be all about this! What’s the harm in--

Estela crosses her arms and steps closer to Raj, glaring angrily.

ESTELA: So, right now, we’re hiding from a death squad of highly trained, well-armed mercenaries… and your plan is to shoot off a bunch of flares directly over our location.

She holds her death glare on the two of them. There is an awkward silence before Craig and Raj finally glance at each other, both clearly embarrassed.

CRAIG: Okay, when you put it like that…

RAJ: Sorry guys. No fireworks this year.

Raj looks down dejectedly and starts heading toward the stairs, when suddenly:

GRACE: Wait! Look!

Everyone follows her gaze off toward a distant mountain range, where the sky is lighting up in beautiful, otherworldly colors. Jake and Alyssa exchange a shocked glance: the colors are identical to those they had seen during their first day on La Huerta, back at the airstrip.

SEAN: What is that?!

VARYYN: Ah, the Lights of Vaanu. Among our people, they are believed to be a sign of good fortune to come.

JAKE: Dunno about y’all, but I’d say we could definitely use some good fortune right about now.

Raj shrugs.

RAJ: Well, it’s not fireworks, but it’s close enough for me! Fifteen seconds ‘til midnight!

Everyone starts looking around at one another, most of them pairing off: Alyssa with Jake, Aleister with Grace, Craig with Zahra, Diego with Varyyn, and two of the Vaanti with one another. Quinn looks as though she is about to approach Michelle, but shies away at the last minute. Ian nods toward Estela, who approaches him. Ian starts to turn away, when Alyssa not-so-subtly kicks him with her heel, pushing him back toward Estela.

IAN (annoyed): ‘Lyss!

He bumps into Estela, who awkwardly catches him in her arms.

ESTELA: Oh! …Hey.

IAN (awkwardly): …Hey.

Everyone else starts counting down from ten. Ian scratches the back of his neck and glances away from Estela. Alyssa shoots him an “are you kidding me?” glance, while Diego raises his eyebrows so far that they nearly vanish into his hairline. Ian sighs and nods in acknowledgement, then takes a deep breath.

EVERYONE: Five… four… three…

Estela steps close, the brilliant otherworldly lights reflecting in her deep brown eyes as she and Ian gaze at one another.

ESTELA: I…

EVERYONE: Two… one… HAPPY NEW YEAR!

The other couples all pull one another into New Year’s kisses as those who are single celebrate in their own ways. Ian starts to hesitate, then relents and pulls Estela into a deep kiss. When they part, Estela smiles up at him.

ESTELA (laughs): I almost thought I would have to do everything myself. Again.

IAN (laughs): Guess I just thought… I was worried you might not want--

He is interrupted by Estela pulling him back in for another kiss. Elsewhere, near the rooftop jacuzzi, Diego and Varyyn sit side-by-side, just breaking apart from their own midnight kiss.

VARYYN: This tradition of yours. Kissing at midnight.

DIEGO (awkwardly): Well, it’s not exactly my tradition--

VARYYN (warmly): I enjoy it quite a lot. Does it apply only to midnight?

DIEGO: Well, uh, if you’re asking if we can kiss again… I won’t say no.

VARYYN (ecstatic): Wonderful! Then, may I…?

Diego nods, and he and Varyyn kiss once more. In the background, Raj can be seen nodding at the two of them, and Craig groans and hands over some cash. Elsewhere, Jake and Alyssa stand hand-in-hand, gazing off at the multicolored lights.

JAKE: Looks familiar, huh?

ALYSSA: How could I forget? That was kind of a big day for me. Y’know.

JAKE: Why, ‘cuz you met me?

ALYSSA (teasingly): Don’t get too excited, Top Gun. A lot more happened than just that.

JAKE: Alright, answer this: were you really looking at those lights the whole time?

ALYSSA: I--

She laughs and rolls her eyes in tacit admission that her attention had indeed been elsewhere at the time. Jake wraps his arms around her and pulls her in close.

ALYSSA: What do you say we take this somewhere else?

JAKE: What were you thinkin’, Princess?

ALYSSA: Somewhere with a bed, if you know what I mean…?

JAKE: I am never gonna say no to that. Lead on.

Alyssa takes him by the hand and leads him back downstairs. As the night continues on, several other couples do the same. Diego and Varyyn are on their way toward the stairs when Diego stops for a moment near where Ian and Estela are sitting.

DIEGO: Go ahead, Varyyn, I’ll catch up. I’ve just gotta check on something first.

Varyyn nods and continues down the stairs. Diego approaches Ian and Estela, resting a hand on the former’s shoulder.

IAN: What’s up?

DIEGO: Can I talk to you for a sec?

IAN: Uh… sure?

Ian gives Estela an apologetic look, and she nods in response. Diego leads him over to a secluded area of the rooftop and lowers his voice.

DIEGO: You know the night’s not over yet, right?

IAN (genuinely confused): What?

DIEGO: Ian! Seriously! Surely you noticed the other couples heading off, right? Me included?

IAN: Yes… and?

Diego seems to be fighting the urge to facepalm.

DIEGO: You. Estela. Do I need to say anything more?

IAN (nervously): Okay, I get what you’re saying, but… where would we even go? It’s not like the lobby is exactly private, and--

DIEGO: This is a hotel, Ian! Are you kidding right now? All the bedrooms you could possibly want! Just go find one!

IAN (laughs): Alright, alright. I’ll ask her. You know, she might say ‘no’--

DIEGO: With how she’s been looking at you all this time? If she says ‘no,’ I’ll literally eat my shoe. Not even kidding. (sighs) Just ask her, would you?

IAN: Will do, Diego. And thanks for the push.

DIEGO (shrugs): What can I say? It’s kinda my job.

He nods at Ian, then turns to rejoin Varyyn and head back downstairs. Ian steels himself, then heads back toward Estela.

ESTELA: What was that all about?

IAN (awkwardly): Diego. He, uh, not-so-subtly hinted that… we should… y’know, ‘find a bedroom.’

ESTELA (coyly): Oh? And what did you think about that?

Ian scratches the back of his neck awkwardly.

IAN: Well, uh… if you said ‘no,’ I’d definitely understand--

ESTELA (genuinely confused): …Why would I say ‘no?’

IAN: Dunno, guess I just thought--

She holds a finger up to his lips and smiles.

ESTELA: You think too much.

With a wink, she takes him by the hand and leads him downstairs…

_______________________

Note: If anyone was wondering, Ian was born at 11:59 PM December 31st, 1995, and Alyssa was born at 12:01 AM January 1st, 1996.

Next: The Fourteenth Vaalta (Coming soon!)

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