#vywrites

Amanda was experimenting in her kitchen on Valentine’s Day, instead of being on a date.

It’s not like she doesn’t like the holiday. Quite the opposite actually. As a kid, she used to adore giving out and receiving valentine goodies. She would give out customized bracelets to each of her classmates, including Clarissa. To her–even back then–Clarissa was worth more than a simple bracelet. She was worth the world in fact. She gave roses to her every Valentine’s Day until Clarissa started to have dates with her boyfriends instead.

Amanda was a little bitter about that fact. Of course, Clarissa would get so many lovers. She was wonderful, pretty, and kind. It’s just that.. Amanda had never had a girlfriend for long enough that they could spend Valentine’s Day together. They were always summer flings that lasted a few weeks–maybe a month if she was lucky. Something to keep busy and happy. To distract her from the person her heart truly belongs to.

Shame they couldn’t distract her on the day she needed it most.

Instead, she turned to her business, Bedazzled Coffee as a distraction. Her pride and joy. Around this time of year, she would experiment and test out valentine-related recipes for the cafe. Some were from previous years that she wanted to make sure still were appealing. Some were brand new ideas she noted down. These recipes ranged from strawberry icing to full blown layered cakes (that was a terrible idea. They’re a coffee shop, not a bakery. What was she thinking?)

It was an often occurrence that one of her friends or family members would come and test them out with her. For the first few years, it was Clarissa, but she got busy quickly. Last year, it was her brother, Derek, and his fiance, Titch. It was their only time together in a while since they settled in the U.K. It was the funnest thing she’d done in decades, but jealousy got the best of her at times. Seeing her brother and his partner flirt and be happy struck her heart. This time no one came because it’s Valentine’s Day on the dot.

She clicked the bowl of batter into place on the mixer, adding red food coloring and vanilla extract every other swirl. She was repeating her strawberry icing recipe for the sugar cookies. The sugar cookies themselves weren’t reinvented or anything. She added a few berries to them. The oven timer dinged.

As soon as Amanda got the treats out of the oven, her doorbell rang (in Jingle Bells because god forbid a girl be festive and forgettable). She was hesitant. Who would be out there? It was awfully cold out there. It was probably a kid going door-to-door selling scouts cookies. It didn’t hurt to check.

“Coming!” She set her tray down and headed towards the door. She fumbled with the knob since her hands were greasy. She should have worn gloves. She managed to open the door to find it wasn’t a walking advert or a tired kid.

It was Clarissa, clearly wet from the rain pouring outside.

She was dressed up for some event. Probably a date if Amanda had to guess. She wore her favorite pink puffy coat over a white long-sleeved frilly lace dress. Her high boots were covered in snow which was weird because there was only an inch or two of snow out and that was melting by the moment. She had to have walked here. Her space buns and colorful heart-shaped hair clips were misaligned.

Despite that, Amanda couldn’t help but stare at her beautiful friend. Even under the storm clouds, her beauty would always shine through.

“Hey.”

Amanda snapped out of her trance with the sound of her voice. Clarissa probably was waiting for her to say something and let her in. For how long? Who knows? “Oh my god, you’re soaked! Come in!” she exclaimed, opening the door wider.

Clarissa stepped into the home, taking off her coat and boots. Amanda had hangers and compartments for her since she visited so often–or used to. She was immediately overwhelmed by the smell of vanilla and strawberries. “You’ve been baking haven’t you?” she commented.

“Indeed.”

She walked further into the home, spotting the mess of the kitchen. Normally people would be a bit put off by the mess, but Amanda knew Clarissa. She smiled instead. It felt nostalgic to be together on a Valentine’s Day after so long. She must have thought the same thing because she said,“Aw, I miss doing this with you.”

“Go on then. Taste some.” Amanda beckoned, gesturing to the goods on the tables. She pointed to a pink mug with hearts all around the rim with a big C in the middle of it. That’s the matching mug they got for Christmas in their twenties. “This one over here is a strawberry chocolate latte. I know you’ll love it! See it has little hearts at the top!”

Clarissa giggled at the enthusiasm, making her heart flutter. “Yeah, I’ll try them. I like the way you decorated them with all of the pink and gold. It’s so pretty.”

Pink and gold. Their colors. Amanda could close her eyes and imagine that Clarissa was calling her pretty. “Thank you. I’m glad you liked them. I have a few more on that table over there.” She pointed over to the far section of the table, full of smoking hot cups. “That section’s drinks. I mainly focused on mochas this year.”

Clarissa walked over and eyed all of the drinks. She was about to taste what was labeled on the festive mug as, “Chocolate Strawberry Mocha” before Amanda started to speak again, causing her to jolt a little.

“Over there is food. There’s some of our classic chocolate dipped cookies that we made together. That one is always a hit with the customers. Remember when we first made that? Back in college?”

Clarissa laughed. The sweet honey of it filled Amanda’s ear. She couldn’t help but laugh along too. “We made a mess all over our dorm.”

“When do we not?”

She walked over to another side of the table, eager to move on quickly. Those happy memories were nice, but they made her feel terrible. “Here’s some cheesecake treats! I don’t want to sell so many different cheesecake stuff. It’s pretty bad for demand. You know me. I can’t choose between my babies. I’m sure you’ll be the decider on ones that will stay.”

“Someone’s gotta make sure your shop doesn't turn into a bakery.”

She hummed, “Of course, of course!” She paused, remembering something. “Actually, I have something for you to do,” She headed over to the tray of the cooled cookies, beckoning Clarissa to follow her.

“Would you like to decorate these sugar cookies please? The icing will be done in a minute. I’m sure you remember how to pipe it, do you?” Clarissa nodded. “The valentine sprinkles are on the top shelf. Let me know if you can’t reach it.”

“C’mon, I’m not that short, Amanda!” she light-heartedly exclaimed.

“I know you aren’t.”

“What brings you to my home this evening? I’m sure you have better things to do than be here,” Amanda said, trying to start up small talk. She was curious though. This situation seemed quite strange.

“I–” Clarissa hesitated. “Can’t I visit a friend?” she said with a smile far too wide. Her tone was off. She was faking it.

The brunette hummed. She hoped that she couldn’t see her suspicious raised eyebrow from there. “On Valentine’s Day out of all times? Don’t you have a date or something with Mark?” she questioned her.

That seemed to hit a nerve. Her body held itself together tightly like glue barely holding on. “We–” She squeezed the icing hard, causing it to overflow slightly. “It’s complicated.” she settled on, refusing to elaborate further.

“You know you can tell me anything.”

Her stiff demeanor softened just a touch. “I know,” she said, her voice lacing with guilt.

“Just wanted to remind you that’s all.”

She sighed. “I wish you could help,” she said. “This time it's something bigger than you can help me with, Amanda,” she tried to explain to her stubborn friend. It came off as dismissive and condescending. Was that the intent? Probably not, but Amanda’s heart ached anyway.

Amanda strained a chuckle. She had heard this excuse time and time again recently. It was like Clarissa didn’t trust her anymore. She couldn’t do anything about it. Back then, she was. Clarissa’s right hand. She got her out of trouble on several occasions. Although, real adult life wasn’t playing on the playground. “Well, I can certainly try, honey. I love helping, okay? There’s no need to hide anything.”

The blonde stayed quiet for a moment, most likely debating on what to say next. If only she could tell what was going on in that head. She used to be able to predict her next thought, but now, their minds grew apart. “Besides,” Clarissa started, “I wanted to visit you on your favorite holiday.”

“You could barely count it as a holiday. I’m working right now, don’t you remember? This is all for the cafe. It may be the fun part of work, but work nonetheless,”

“It’s still your favorite and you deserve someone being there for you on it. I always noticed you don’t have any girls with you on this day.” –thanks for rubbing salt in the wound– “You deserve love. I think you’ll get it one day! I want to be with you like you’ve been with me throughout my hardships. ”

“You are. You always are, dear.” she reassured her, smiling through her teeth.

She knew she was lying to herself, but she couldn’t care any less. Clarissa probably was the source of the majority of her hardships. It wasn’t the blonde's fault that she was so pretty Amanda couldn’t help herself. She could not be blamed for the misfortune Amanda caused herself. She always had the option to move on from her. She just never did.

She looked into her best friend’s eyes softly. A melancholic reflection looked back at her. “Remember, what we promised when we were little?” she went to hold Clarissa’s hands, but backed away at the last second. “It’s you and me against the world.”

Clarissa hummed, her eyes darting away to the oven.

Julep and Mr. Polar Bear stood in one of the available stores in all of Wight. The rest of the stores in the area closed down due to the rising zombie apocalypse. Eventually, people ran out of rations and needed to resupply. A few stores opened back up for them, but they needed a stamp of approval from the government.

Mr. Polar Bear liked it when he got to join Julep for their weekly visit to one. He liked interacting with other humans even if they weren’t always nice to him. Julep said that humans are afraid of what they don’t know and to not feel offended every time a human runs away. It still got to him sometimes. At least he had Julep as a human friend.

Another reason–the primary one– is Julep herself. She would always tell these wonderful stories about her life before it all on their trips. When shopping was a normal activity. When polar bears still lived on icebergs in the Arctic. Sometimes he would find an item from before and ask her about it. It was always some sort of toy or sentimental object–no longer used in this new society.

Today was no exception.

In front of him, there was a rotating rack with a bunch of festive cards on it near the cashier counters they were at. Some of them were for birthdays, some were from funerals, and everything in between. There was a particular card that caught his eye. It was pink and red with letters across the top and symbols around it. Mr. Polar Bear leaned down to grab it.

 He tapped Julep’s shoulder to get her attention. She turned to face him.“What is it, dear?”

“What is Val-en-tine day?” he asked, saying out each syllable one by one. He noticed her head tilt. It must have been a sign of confusion. He quickly tossed the card in front of her face which she was startled by. “Card. It has strange symbols and those words.”

“Those are hearts.” 

He looked at Julep in confusion. He never saw a human’s heart before and he was sure Julep had not either. Those could not be hearts. They did not contain the right parts for it to function. “Those are not polar bear hearts. Do human hearts look like that?”

 “Eh–Not exactly.”

“Why are those symbols called “hearts”?”

“It’s probably for marketing or something like that.”

“Mar-ket-ing?” He stretched out the syllables again.

“I am not explaining capitalism to you.” She stated, “ To answer your original question, Valentine’s Day is kind of like a holiday. It’s a day to celebrate love. Do you know what love is?”

“Me and you,” 

He watched Julep turn into a light shade of red. She cleared her throat. “Well, on Valentine’s Day, many people go out on these things called dates with romantic partners. See, there are different types of love. There’s romantic, familiar and platonic love to name a few.”

He knew that he loved Julep. That was undeniable, but what type of love was it? He thought there was only one type of love. The ones in the rom-coms Julep watched when she was younger. The feeling was similar to that. “Which one are we?” he asked, genuinely curious.

She gave it a moment of thought, most likely using the time to compose herself.“I-I’m not quite sure…” She trailed off quietly, clearing her throat once more, before continuing, “Usually the day is celebrated with couples that have romantic attraction, but friends and family also do events together. People celebrate it by just spending time with their loved ones and buying them gifts. It’s a day where you express how much you love someone.”

He looked down at the card in his paws. It seemed so small compared to his giant paws. Why do humans express this love with something so meaningless? Still, he was starting to understand."Why is there card of it?”

“Lots of folks like making or buying cards to express their love,” She explained. 

 He held it close to his fluffy chest. “Can I keep?”

 She smiled. The redness was almost gone from her face, except for the warm blush on the edges of her freckles. “I don’t see why not.”

Mr. Polar Bear eventually had to let go of the card because the cashier needed to scan the item. He was hesitant at first, but Julep reassured him that this was how stores work and they needed to see it. He got the card back right after that.

 He still felt bad for wasting the money the brunette had worked so hard for on something dumb despite her insistence on it being completely fine. It was worth a fraction of a fraction of a fish. That money could have been used elsewhere however. 

After they finished paying for their groceries, they began their return back to their bunker as the sun was setting. Luckily, they lived only a few kilometers away, reducing their risk of being infected on their journey. Since it was so short, they usually never bothered to start up a conversation, but Mr. Polar Bear couldn’t help but ask one more question. 

While examining the card further, he asked, “When is this Val-en-tine’s Day?”

“Feburary fourteenth,” She answered, turning the knob to their bunker. Were they already home? She entered their home and began to set the groceries aside. “It’s around this time of year. For all we know it could be Valentine’s Day tomorrow!”

He hummed in acknowledgement, an idea forming in his head. “Can it be the day to-mor-row?”

“I don’t think it is tomorrow, but if you want to celebrate it go ahead! Time is arbitrary anyway while love is constantly with us. We should celebrate loving people no matter the day,” she said, by now she was finished with the groceries and was on to setting up their sleeping bags. The door was still open with Mr. Polar Bear outside. He noticed her shiver and finally entered the building to prevent any further discomfort for his Julep.

Julep must have also noticed something and asked with a sly smirk, “Are you planning something, Mr. Polar Bear?”

“No.”

She chuckled as she lit up her lantern, “If you say so!”

Mr. Polar Bear sat down beside Julep on his sleeping bag. He let himself settle down into it, still holding his card close to him. He faced the other direction, so he couldn’t see Julep.

 She must have thought something was wrong.“I’m going to dim the light, okay? Remember I am right here. I won’t leave you.” Her voice echoed with concern. He didn’t deserve someone so nice and warm. He had to do something for her. 

He could not fall asleep that night.

–

Julep woke up alone.

Mr. Polar Bear was nowhere to be seen. He was not lying down within her reach like always. He never did this before. He would have at least woken her up to tell her if he went out–usually to hunt fish. Where could he have gone?

 She panicked–of course, jumping out of her sleeping bag to search for him. She took her lantern with her, brightening it up, so there was a chance that he could see it and return to her. “Mr. Polar Bear?” she called, raising her lantern high. 

“Julep?” Mr. Polar Bear called back from the door. She could hear the harsh wind from outside.

She rushed over to his location as fast as she could. She lost her breath quite quickly.“Oh thank goodness, you’re alright. You got me really worried there, polar bear! I don’t know what I would do without you!”

After regulating herself, she finally took a look at her friend. He was covered in snow and smelled...weird? She could not place her finger on the scent, but it did not smell like her polar bear. His eyes looked tired and dark.“You look like a mess! What happened? You look like you haven’t slept.”

“I did not,” he stated.

That explained it. He snuck out in the middle of the night. But why? He was deathly afraid of the dark. He always got closer to Julep when it was dark. It was a hard obstacle to overcome at first–especially on their first night– but now Julep carried a lantern with her at all times to combat this. He did not take the lantern–she was holding it at the moment. Why would he do all of this? 

 “Aren’t you scared of the dark?” she commented, trying to get more information out of it. 

“I needed to get gift for Julep because Julep is love.” 

Oh.

She completely forgot about that. Her face flushed red when the puzzles in her mind finally clicked together. It was honorary Valentine’s Day and he got her a gift. A polar bear got her a romantic gift. She covered her face in embarrassment and shock.“You didn’t need to–”

“I must face my fears for Julep. Julep deserves gifts quickly and on time. No time for fear,”

“I–” She started, stuttering. It was odd how quickly she was losing her composure over this. He probably didn’t understand the implications! It was fine! It didn’t mean anything romantic at all! “I’m honored really. I’m glad you faced your fear. That must have been very difficult–oh!” she exclaimed when, suddenly, in front of her, there was a red heart shaped box, the card Mr. Polar Bear got yesterday, and a flower bouquet with roses and tulips.

“I have card, box, and flowers.”

“This is so nice!” she took the items into her hand, gazing at them in awe. She held them close to her.“How did you even find half this stuff? These flowers look fresh!” “

“Julep happy?” he asked sincerely. 

 She tried her best to dull her smile a smidgen, but it still shined bright through. These were the first valentine presents she’s ever gotten. She’ll treasure these precious things forever. “Yes I am. Thank you so much for all of this! Truly, it means the world to me that there’s someone out there who loves me.”

He grinned, proud of himself as Julep took them into the bunker and set them aside for display in their sleeping room. He yawned loudly, catching her attention.

“You need sleep. You’ve been up for hours.”

“No I don’t. I’m happy because Julep is happy.”

“You can be happy and asleep at the same time,” she said. She knew he was mainly upset that she was right because she always was. Mr. Polar Bear grumbled in protest. “Nope! Don’t be like that. I would be much happier if you were well-rested, sir.” 

The grumbles turned into deep whines when she kept insisting on it. She even tried pushing him to the floor which obviously wasn’t successful in the slightest. She was about to give up until an idea popped into her head.

“How about I sleep with you, okay? I’ll be right in your arms, so you don’t have to worry,” she said. She didn’t stop to think about the implications of what that could possibly mean. She was sure he wouldn’t know them. She hoped he didn’t.

He stopped to consider it for a moment. “Okay. I will sleep with Julep,” he replied. Hearing it repeated made the whole thing worse. She took a deep breath, trying to disguise her hot face.

She dimmed the light once again before awkwardly settling down on Mr. Polar Bear’s sleeping bag, waiting for him. He eventually laid down on it and let Julep climb into his arms. His fur was soft and fluffy, still having remnants of snow. They had hugged before, but this felt different somehow. More intimate. 

Soon enough, the sound of his pleasant snoring filled her ears. She smiled warmly. 

Amanda stands by the double doors of the church, pizza boxes in hand. She takes a deep breath to calm herself down. She opens them, bracing herself.

The smell of nostalgia overwhelms her.

Inside the church, the glowing fairy lights are hung around each and every corner. It is covered in diverse plant life that varies from small normal houseplants to the centerpiece of the wedding, an artificial oak tree right in the middle. She wonders how they got the license for that. Must have costed a fortune. It smells like the winter woods. If it isn’t for the blinding rays of sunshine peaking out of the windows at 5 pm, she would have thought it’s winter right now. 

Last but not least, the extravagant altar stands before her, staring–judging. 

She freezes up for a moment. It remembers her. Momentarily, she's returned to her childhood, begging for forgiveness in front of a crowd. She was always dramatic. If she was going to confess to her sins, she was going to make it everyone's problem. She never took it very seriously. She used that opportunity to sharpen her acting skills.

The last time Amanda was here was before she came out publicly. When she was–what? Thirteen? Even then, she didn’t go very often. She and her father were too busy at the restaurant to make time. She respected everyone there. It was just that Amanda had bigger things to worry about than a church accepting her beliefs. Maybe she isn't ready to return here. She isn't welcomed. She's a sinner to them. 

But when has that ever stopped her from doing what she loves most?

She takes another deep breath and heads towards the food tables. It’s easy to navigate. Despite the unique decor already up, it feels only half decorated. There aren't many people there yet. She is here to do a simple thing–drop off the pizza boxes at the reception. Then, she’ll be right out of there. Pretty simple, right?

She spots a blond man, fully dressed in a lovely velvet suit and tie with gold embroidery etched into it. Beside him, there's a taller man, his brown hair perfectly curled. He’s in a longer deep green suit tapered at the edges, flowing down to the ground to resemble a train. Whoever these people are, they certainly have great fashion taste. Clearly, these were the people getting married today–and they weren’t ones for tradition at that.

She waves at them and places the boxes of food down on the table one by one. She doesn’t notice when the blond husband approaches her from behind with a sheepish smile on his face. He pokes her back to catch her attention. “Hello, madam. Could I have a talk with you for a minute?” His Welsh accent is clear as day.

She hums in acknowledgement. 

She could hear the man fidgeting with something in his hands. “I should probably introduce myself. My name’s Frankie, one of the two getting married today,” he introduces awkwardly.

“I assumed.” Great start, Amanda. Starting off blunt. She regains her composure. “Well, I’m Amanda. It’s nice to meet you.” She extends her hand for a handshake.

“It’s nice to meet you, too,” He grips her hand firmly, and shakes it. “You have come a little bit early even for your estimated time of arrival. It starts in about three hours. Most of the decorations aren’t up, but I still think it looks lovely. Alan’s making a fuss about it though.”

She chuckles as she lets go of his hand.“It’s a very lovely wedding indeed. I really like the vibe you’ve created.”

Frankie lights up.“Thank you! We’ve worked extra hard to make it look the best that it can be. I do need some help. Only if you’re not tight on time or don’t have places to be. I’m sure you're busy with all those deliveries you do.”

She knows she has enough time for some side quests–she had the whole day after this–, but she would like more information ideally.“How can I help?”

“See, I may have booked our wedding planner for the wrong day and–”

“I told you to double check it over. Read it out loud if you must.” Alan interrupts as he looms over his fiance’s shoulder. He also has a Welsh accent–a weird one at that. Did these two travel abroad to get married here? In a random church in New Jersey?

Frankie sighs.“I know, Alan! I thought I did, but I must have been too busy worrying about everything else. I overlooked it. It was the dragon day, remember?” Dragon Day? What could that possibly refer to? It must have been an accident of some sort, Amanda wonders.

He hums. This must be a thing they both know. Interesting. “I see.”

“Don’t worry about that.” Frankie focuses his attention back to Amanda. “Can you help out? Arrange decorations and set all the tables please while you’re at it. You’re probably familiar with it already. It’ll only take a few minutes. Alan and I need to get all of the stuff ready. Everyone else won’t show up until later.” he explains, failing to speak at a slow page.

She considers it for a few seconds before speaking even though she knew her answer as soon as Frankie said it. “I–”

He interrupts her. He’s clearly frightened about the lack of response. “In return, you can be a guest and enjoy as much food and drinks as you want. You seem like a lovely woman. I think you should be able to enjoy what you helped set up. I’m sure we have an extra table for you somewhere, don’t we, Alan?” Frankie looks over to Alan. He nods. “That’s only if you chose to stay, of course.”

“I’ll do it.” she states. “I don’t have anything better to do. I need to give myself more party time than I currently do honestly. I’ll stay.”

He grins in gratefulness."Thank you so much.”

She smiles back. 

That’s how she ended up here–alone in the corner, staring out at the couples waltzing on the floor. She sips on her third glass of wine. Oh how lucky it is to be in love. She envies them. All of her attempts at love have been unsuccessful. In her half-drunk state, she almost believes that this was the moment. The moment she’ll meet someone. Something like a meet-cute in a novel where a girl comes over to her corner and strikes a conversation about being alone at this wedding together. It would be a delightful dream. One that has no chance at happening.

The soft folk music surrounds the dancers. The fairy lights are dim. The only major source of light are the many romantic candles scattered everywhere. It might be the low light, the jealousy, the wine or a combination of all three, but her mind’s going crazy.

She’s starting to see things.

In the middle of the dance floor, Amanda spots a translucent flowy figure with a dress down to her feet. It enthralls her. She places her glass to the side to focus her attention on staring. The way this woman moves through the dancing crowd. It’s like she’s not even there. It’s beautiful. Amanda only catches her for a few seconds before the figure disappears. She rubs her eyes. The figure is still gone.

That was…weird. 

She bites her upper lip. She should leave. Or at least see a doctor at some point. That wasn’t normal. This was a terrible idea. Why did she accept that offer from two strangers she doesn’t know? She could be watching her favorite rom-coms right now. She only feels worse than before. She might even be hallucinating! 

She takes a deep breath. Somehow, despite this, she can’t be bothered to leave. She doesn’t have the energy. She tries to grab her glass of wine to resume drinking it, but it isn’t where she last put it. Instead, it’s on the other side of the surface–far enough that she cannot reach it from this angle. There’s less of the liquid inside. How odd. Someone must have fiddled with her drink.

It’s only been like a minute? Surely she would have seen someone come near her and move her drink around. Surely she wasn’t that enchanted by the woman–or so she thinks. Nevertheless, she picks the glass off the ground, examining it. It seems fine. No weird smell or discoloration. It would be safer not to drink any of it. She set it back down. This time closer to her.

Suddenly, a cold whiff of air washes over Amanda. She shivers. She looks around to see what could be causing a sudden change in temperature–a fan perhaps? There’s nothing. That’s never happened the many hours she’s been sitting here. Usually she would shrug it off as some weird accident, but there’s been too many of those. She’s starting to get worried. 

What in the world is going on?

Before she could even think, cold air hits her again. This time coming from behind her. Her skin pricks upwards. Her hair gets caught in her mouth. She coughs it out in annoyance. Her ears start to ring heavily, until she can barely hear the music. Nothing is registering in her mind except for the massive headache that has arisen. 

 This church definitely is doing something to her head. Whether it’s from her less than joyful memories or that it’s haunted. She wouldn’t be surprised if it’s indeed haunted. This place is awfully old after all. It could also be the obsessive amount of alcohol she’s consumed. She’s not a lightweight though. She’s drunk more than this before. Although, these symptoms do align with alcohol poisoning.

That’s enough weird stuff for the day. She’s going home.

She stands up, leaving her glass behind, and walks towards the exit. For a moment she hesitates as her eyes catch sight of the newly weds having a drink. Should she say goodbye? Those two were very sweet for letting her stay even if it didn’t end so well. She decides not to. They’ll be fine without a stranger at the final hours of their wedding.

Before she opens the doors, out of the corner of her eye, she sees something glowing in a hidden part of the church. An area she is not allowed to be in. She’ll be the cat that’ll be killed. She can’t be bothered to care. She approaches it with caution. Upon closer inspection, it’s clear as day what the mysterious glowing object is.

Clarissa blinked awake.

She was not lying down on her bed like one typically would when they woke up. She was standing– no–floating–above the altar. How peculiar. She lifted her white flowy dress up to reveal her usually pale legs had become translucent. She took a look at her hands, bedazzled with pearl bracelets. They were also glowing a translucent green color.

Maybe her mother knew something about this. Even with her illness, she was still a doctor after all. She’d always been the person Clarissa went to for answers. “Mom!” She called out, finally observing the environment around her.

The quaint church was decorated head to toe in white wedding decorations. Her favorite flowers hung around her. They were beginning to rot by the smell of it. The multi-tier cake was untouched in the corner. The round tables covered with fine china and embroidered napkins–once bustling with people– now sat empty in the middle of the church. That was not how she remembered it being.

Where was everyone?

“Hello?” Her echo was the only reply.

She stared at the other side of the altar. There was no one to be found. She swore that Mark was there right, speaking his vows, before her sudden nap. “Mark?” She whispered in disbelief. Did she scare him off? Did he realize she was unfit to be a bride? Falling asleep at your wedding would surely make that impression.

There could have been the possibility that he simply ran off. He ran away from his responsibilities quite frequently. Why not run from the biggest day of his life? Whatever the case, he took the entire guest list with him and left her behind. She could not let that slide! She was gonna find this man and give him a talking to like her mother always said.

She rushed down the aisle, “stepping” on the petals that she so carefully made perfect, to the front door. First, she gently nudged the door and when that didn’t work she became more aggressive. A church door would not be locked from the inside, right?

“Why won’t you budge!” She exclaimed, banging on the door once more. There was something holding her back. A blue field appeared briefly around the door every time she pushed on it. That wasn’t normal. She attempted a few more times before she gave up completely.

Luckily, she spotted the assistant pastor whose name she had forgotten out of the corner of her eye. He would surely know how to open the door for her. “Sir!” she exclaimed, hoping to get the man’s attention. He kept cleaning up the tables, ignoring her. “Sir! Excuse me! I need some help over here!” she repeated. She sighed in frustration as the assistant refused to listen to her. That kid was a dumb one sometimes.

She stormed right over to him. “Hello, sir! Can you help with the door? It won’t open,” she explained. She tried her best to act as politely as possible, but she was fed up with the nonsense of the day. The man had the audacity to not even acknowledge her in any manner. He actually turned around and walked to the next table. How rude.“Excuse me!” She shouted, right into his ear.

Still nothing.

What was going on? She groaned. Fine. If she was trapped here, then so be it. It wasn’t like she was gonna be here much longer anyway. Any moment now she was gonna wake up, perfectly fine, and completely ready to get married! She floated back to the altar and sat in front of the lecture.

While sitting, she helplessly watched the young pastor clean up, essentially erasing all of her hard work. He took down the flowers, cake, and her special ribbons. He threw away their menus, notes. What was he even doing? The wedding wasn’t done yet! They still had to finish the ceremony. If only the man would let her out to find her guests, then maybe this confusion wouldn’t have happened.

She opened her mouth to tell him this information, but nothing came out. She was honestly too tired to speak anymore. It wasn’t like he was going to listen to her anyway since he completely ignored her the first time.

Nobody wanted to listen to her. Even on her wedding day.

A tear fell down her cheek and landed on her wedding dress. She tried to catch her tears with her hand, but they kept pouring, overfilling it. There was no way to stop them. After a few minutes–or months– she embraced the ruin. Why not make this already miserable day worse? There was nothing to lose. There was no one to care. She sobbed right into her dress, her make up smudging all over it.

Anna only parts when she needs to breathe. Her breath hitched alone.

She stumbles back to see what she has caused. It makes her nauseous. It's a mess.

The wound in Esmeralda's chest bleeds all over her elegant gown. The stake is still there holding some of the blood back. Her dead body slumps over on the chair for strength.

She takes a second to admire her. What a shame someone so beautiful was a vampire. Her long hair, her eyes, her unique fashion sense. Although, the woman did look better covered in her own blood. It compliments her pale skin well.

Curiously, Anna touches the blood leaking out of the chest, and licks it.

Her brown eyes dilate. It's addicting. Who knew vampire blood tasted so good? No wonder these vampires fed on human blood. She would too if it tasted like this. She takes more of it, applying it on her lips like it's lipstick.

Once she finishes enjoying her meal, she resumes kissing the corpse, painting the blonde's mouth red. When that's not enough, she bites hard on her mouth causing it to bleed. It was surprisingly easier than she thought it would be. She doesn't have the fangs that vampires do.

You would have guessed she was the vampire out of the two from afar by the way she is hunched over her, feeding on her victim.

On the each of the flowers, there are stickers. He could figure out three out of the five stickers, a sun , a few stars, a moon. The fourth one looks like a comet or a red planet. Mars perhaps. The fifth is scratched out in some areas. Although, it's still clearly space themed.

He wonders what they mean. He thanks the ghost for the flowers.

Grian still doesn't leave Scar's side.

By the time he reaches Grian's grave. Scar laments on the past. He hadn't remembered all the games clearly until now. A perk—or a curse, depending on how you view it— on being a winner, he supposes.

He forgives Grian, he realizes. For all he had done. He still cares for him. If he's stuck here for the rest of his life, he's glad it's with him.

Suddenly, Scar hears a muffled voice in his ear. "You shouldn't forgive me. I've been horrible to you," It's clearly Grian. He's unsure how Grian knows that's what he's thinking about. Is this an ability that all ghosts have?

Scar opens his mouth to protest, but no words come out. He tries again. Still nothing. He really wants to say it. To assure that he isn't as horrible as Grian thinks he is. The Watchers have a history of silencing players. This must have been it.

The lilacs and poppies settle on to Grian's grave just like they have done on Scar's grave several games ago. They settled there without Scar's interference somehow. He assumes that it was Grian's doing.

Grian's cry echoes through the world, "Do you ever want to go home?"

Scar nods. He wants to apologize to everyone he had hurt. He wants to leave this horrid place and never return. He wants to go home desperately. He is sure that Grian longs to go home too but he can't either.

Johnny was now face to face with his wife, drawing his gun. 

He didn’t remember how he fucked up this badly on his marriage. With his wife pointing a gun at him. It might have been one big argument or the slow drifts of insults over time. Maybe, It was the first time he called her a bitch. It wasn’t like it mattered now. He was done for.

But there was a sparkle. A small twinkle in her eyes that could never be noticed by the ordinary. The twinkle that used to light up every time Johnny walked in a room. A twinkle that shone in the dark at night. A twinkle, a glimpse, of a different woman. A young softer woman that he loved. No matter how hard she tried to erase it, that girl was still there in her. Maybe, through a stroke of luck, Johnny can get that girl to come through.

“You ever consider that we could put these guns down and start over?” 

She stared down at him, not moving an inch. Her eyes sharp, piercing through his heart. He wondered if they were always like that or that her gaze had grown colder over the years. Everything stopped. The air tightened. 

It was just them alone in this world together like it used to –and should have– be. Back then, when the world went away, they could forget about every trouble that came before them. It wasn’t like this anymore. The world was forgotten, yes, but there was no more forgetting. They were facing their troubles head on. Those troubles happened to be each other.

She squinted hard. She should have shot him right then and there. To his surprise, she actually lowered her gun down. Only down enough to where she would be shooting would be his leg and not his head, but it was a start. “I guess you can always give a dog a second chance.” She simply said, “But you will have to prove your worth, my dear.” She turned on her heel.

He didn’t know if he should have felt relieved or terror when she said that. This was what he wanted. He wanted for the both of them to live. Would a life in death be better than a life with her?

“Do what exactly?”

“Stay.” She demanded, placing the gun down on a counter. At least, she could not shoot him from here. “Do what I say and stay.”

In hindsight, he should have listened, but that wasn’t his strong suit. Instead, Johnny instinctively reached a hand out for her and tried to grab her arm gently. “Bella–”

 “How untrained you are, after all these years, baffles me.” She barked at him, picking up her gun again. He spoke too soon. She ripped away from his grasp, turning around. 

 “I thought I trained that clinginess out of you. You are still that desperate native puppy I foolishly married. ” She scowled at him like one of her little puppies. He knew that wasn’t the entire truth. Yes, he was still desperate for her– for the old her, but they both have changed for the worse. 

“Mom–”  Their only son objected. Johnny had forgotten he was there. Poor kid, he shouldn’t have to see his parents like this. Why did they have to bring a son into or even into this cruel world at all? It wasn’t fair that they passed down the generational trauma that they hoped to prevent in the first place. 

“Stay out of this, kid. This is an issue me and your pops will solve on our own.” She was gentler to him. That was the difference between Johnny and Jimmy. She actually spoke and treated him like a person with respect.

“Listen here,” Belladonna pulled her husband towards her, grabbing the back of his head and pushing it down. He grunted. She pointed the gun directly on his chin. Up close, her stare would kill the weak. “I told you to stay here. You will listen to me. Do not go and find me. Whatever I get up to is none of your business, even as an entitled cop. Your “bitch” needs some alone time, okay? Leave me alone.” 

He wanted to simply nod, but that might trigger her to pull the trigger. “Fine.” He struggled.

She showed her wicked grin. There was a time where he liked that smile, but during that time it wasn’t condescending. “Good,”

She dropped the gun on the ground with a clatter. 

In a blink-of-a second, she was gone. Johnny wondered if he was already dead, and from his initial question to now was some sort of afterlife torture. But it felt too normal for that. If this was meant to torment him, wouldn’t everything be worse? 

Titch had to drive way too many imperial kilometers to get to the nearest bit of civilization off campus. 

See, he had been attending horticultural school in fucking New Jersey for about a month. He had always wanted to travel to the states for education, but to New Jersey out of all places? It wasn’t his top pick. It’s not like he had any other choice. The rest of the schools he applied to rejected him.

The school owned quite a lot of land which was good for learning about crops. Not so good when you need to go get groceries. Sure, the campus had some plain old stores he could attend, but Titch really needed to go to the outside world for a moment. He was sick and tired of the same old stuff. It was a miracle it took this long for an adventure out into the American streets.

He planned to just pull into the nearest shop or establishment he could spot on the outskirts of town. That place just so happened to be a small independently run coffee shop named Bedazzled Coffee. The shop looked nicely decorated and far better than the shitty cafe on campus he’d forgotten to stop by at. Anything would beat that coffee. 

True to its name, the interior of the shop was, well, bedazzled with colourful blue, pink and green furniture items and sparkles everywhere. It was quite bright for Titch’s taste. He could vaguely see what demographic the shop was for, and he knew he was not it, so he tried to appreciate what it was trying to be.

One thing caught his attention, though, and it had nothing to do with the furniture. In the middle of the store, there was a tall brown-haired man, hunched over on his computer. He sat alone with papers and empty cups scattered around his table. God, was he gorgeous. Titch knew it was wrong to stare, but something about him captivated him. Maybe, it was the way his curly hair framed his face or his moles. 

He had to snap out of it. He wasn’t gay, not like there is anything wrong with that. He’d burned that generational homophobia out of him. It was just he just wasn’t one. He was admiring a very handsome man, and there was nothing wrong with that. Pure straight behavior.

A cheerful voice cut through his thoughts. “Hello! How can I help you today?” The woman at the  till called out. Her brown hair was tied up into a high pony tail. He walked up to the counter, trying to avoid sneaking glances at the man. On closer inspection, she had the same moles and freckles as that stranger. 

“I’ll just have a large black coffee,” He said. His voice betrayed him, clearly showing his accent. It was so distinct, compared to everyone else here.

She tapped the order in and muttered, “Ah, I knew you weren’t from here.”

“Is it that obvious?”

“As obvious as you ogling at my brother,” A sly smirk appeared on her face.

He flushed. Was it that noticeable? Was he even still doing it? He definitely thought he stopped by now and he definitely wasn’t “ogling”. He was just looking, admiring perhaps. Yup. “I am so sorry, but I wasn’t–”

“Go talk to him.” She interrupted, “He absolutely adores company. He's the type of guy to strike up a conversation with anyone.”

“Isn’t that weird? There’s enough seats for me to sit elsewhere,” Is this what Americans did? Sit with strangers that want to be alone? If someone came up to Titch in a coffee shop, he would tell them to fuck off. Sitting with a stranger was daunting, even if that stranger was hot.

“Say that Amanda sent you,”

He sighed in defeat. This girl was persistent. “Alright,”

Amanda’s customer service voice came back.“Good. That’ll be 3.20. Name?”

“Titch,” Her head tilted up a bit. He didn’t blame her. It was quite a weird name for someone to have, especially back at home. He paid for his order, trying to take as long as possible because he wasn’t ready for that confrontation. It was fine, though. It wasn’t very busy. 

He tapped the chair in front of the man nervously. He was even prettier up close.“Do you mind if I take a seat here?”

“Go ahead! I’m not really doing much with all this space,” The taller one said, despite most of the table being covered in papers. He tried to grab all of the papers to his side. “Take a seat.” He resumed typing away on his computer as the blonde sat down on the chair. 

Titch was never good at small talk. He scrambled in his brain to say the right thing. To make a  good impression. Instead, he said the first thing that came to mind. “So… what are you doing?” 

“Writing an article for the paper,”

“You write for the news?”

“It’s just an internship to get me started.” He replied, dismissively like it was no big deal. “I forgot to introduce myself. Silly me,” He extended his hand out for a handshake. Oddly professional. “I’m Derek. Nice to meet you.”

“I’m–”

A booming voice called out, “Black coffee for Titch!” There she went, interrupting him again. 

“Titch…” He completed, annoyed. 

Derek wasn’t phased by the name. Instead, he teased, “Black coffee? What are you? An old man?” 

That didn’t stop the growing smile on his face, in fact, it made it worse. “Shut up,” 

When handing his drink to Titch, she whispered into his ear, grinning. “I wrote his number in the sleeve,” She proclaimed. She wanted to set him up with her brother so badly. Sure, he was attractive, but anyone with functioning eyes could see that! That didn’t mean he was attracted to him or other men. Too bad for her, he had a confession to make.

“I’m not gay,”

She chuckled. “Sure, honey. Well, it’s there if you ever change your mind,”

He took a sip of his coffee carefully. He was right. It was way better than that shitty campus coffee. It had the correct amount of acidity and sweetness for his liking (which really meant that it was more bitter than sweet.) It was pretty perfect to his standards. He would certainly be ordering this again, no matter how far he has to travel.

 Meanwhile, Derek grabbed his drink to sip on it, but nothing came through. He opened the lid. “Oh, It looks like I ran out,” He remarked to himself. The blond wondered how many of those he’d already drank. He stood up, “I’m gonna go get another coffee. Want anything? I’ll pay,”

“No thanks,”

“You sure?” He nodded.

Derek returned with his cappuccino, and a small bag with two Boston Cream donuts. “I got two, so you could try them. I don’t think you have Boston Creams in Britain. They’re my favourite. You should give it a shot.” They did have those in Britain. It was just Titch had never bothered to try them.

“I don’t really like sugary treats,” He answered. Then, Derek hit him with the cutest puppy eyes. God help him. He was giving in a lot today. “Fine, Fine,” He grabbed the donut and took a bite, watching the other light up with the biggest grin ever. He would do anything for that smile.

The donut tasted pretty good. It wasn’t overly sweet which was his biggest fear. He was afraid he wouldn’t be able to finish it. He could eat more than one in a single sitting. It was quite light and airy too. The textures worked well in his mouth.

“It’s fine,” He mumbled with the slightest smile on his face. He continued to bite into the pastry.

The taller one immediately caught his bluff. “I knew you would like it!” He exclaimed.

They continued on like that for who knew how long, conversing back and forth about random things. First, it was some small getting to know you thing, but as time moved on, they talked about more personal things. It strangely went along like a date. Huh. They were stuck in a trance together until suddenly, Amanda came out of nowhere behind Titch.

“Boys, I know your date is going well, but I need you to leave. We’re getting busy and we need more space. You two have been sitting here for hours. Derek, I already give you enough free real estate, don’t complain. Shoo!” Amanda explained, kicking her brother’s chair. He squealed.

 Had it been hours? Time passed by really fast. He had so much to do today. How had he lost track of time that easily? He knew it was Derek, but he didn’t want to admit that. “It’s alright. I need to leave too. See you around?”

Derek’s eyes glistened, “I hope so,”

When exiting, he tossed his cup out, making sure to keep the sleeve with Derek’s number. He gently slipped it into his pocket for safe keeping.