Natasha had never been running in her entire life. Standing in the aisle containing workout clothes, she couldn't believe she was even going to give it an attempt, but Sharla wanted to start a routine with her, and who was she to argue with doing things with the woman who she called her best friend? After all, now that the show was on its regularly scheduled hiatus, Nat didn't want to just sit around like she usually did, she wanted to be more active, and what better way to do that than going for a run?

"Why is every single workout set black?" Nat asked, sipping her iced coffee.

"Cause it's harder for creepy guys to see you sweat," Sharla said, and Nat nodded.

"Fair," she replied, "well, I guess I'll just pick one and roll with it. I'm certainly not interested in the fashion sense of workout clothes."

Nat grabbed a set from the rack and turned, walking towards the checkout with Sharla. As they stepped into line, Nat couldn't help but smile to herself. She wanted to tell everyone about Jay, about the sudden engagement, but she wasn't ready to break the news to anyone just yet. After all, when your entire life is on display for everyone, sometimes you want to just keep some things to yourself, even if just briefly.

"When works best for you?" Sharla asked, looking at her phone, "I mean, ya know, for running? I prefer to go in the mornings, but really any time is fine. Not like I don't have a flexible schedule."

"Mornings are fine, honestly, would probably do me well to get up earlier than I have been," Nat said. They reached the cashier and paid, then headed out to the parking lot. As they climbed into Nat's car and she started it up, Sharla ran a hand up to her own chest and grimaced. Nat glanced over and raised an eyebrow, asking "you okay?"

"Heartburn," Sharla said, "think it's because of these new supplements I've been taking. I've got to try things out before I feel comfortable recommending them to people, you know?"

"Certainly," Nat said, "in that case, since you already have heartburn, let's go eat fast food."

Sharla laughed and agreed, so they drove to the unhealthiest burger place Nat knew of. She'd rarely if ever had female friends, and it was nice. Between Corrine, Sharla and Misty, she finally felt like she belonged to what other women often referred to as 'the sisterhood'. She'd spent so much of her life either alone or in the company of men, that it was a welcome change to do things with other women for once, and she wouldn't give that up for the world.

                                                                                                        ***

Corrine was making bacon.

It was one of the few things she really liked to eat, and probably not a great thing considering how bad cured meats are for you, but she didn't care. She just really liked bacon. Standing over the stove, frying it in the pan, she yawned and tried to think about what else she might do today, her first day off in a while, with the show now on hiatus once more. Ashley came into the kitchen, fully dressed except for her shoes, and pulled out a kitchen chair, seating herself on it before pulling her socks on her feet and slipping them into her shoes.

"I have a lot of work to do today," Ashley said, "I'm gonna be in an out of meetings all day, are you going to be okay being by yourself?"

"Oh, gosh, how will I handle that, I've never been alone ever in my life, I'm simply not accustomed to it, I'm not sure how I'll manage," Corrine said flatly, making Ashley laugh. Ashley stood back up, pulled on her suit jacket and walked up behind Corrine, kissing her on the back of the head before leaving. Corrine heard the front door shut and felt a sense of ease wash over her. She loved being with Ashley, but sometimes she reveled in her personal space. Corrine gathered her bacon and took it into the living room, plopping herself down on the couch. She didn't have anything planned for the day and, frankly, that kind of suited her for the time being. After everything that had gone down this year - between work and her interpersonal relationships - she could stand to use a little break.

After a few pieces of bacon, there was a knock on the front door, and Corrine looked towards it, confused. Stephen again? No, that would be too soon, what could he possibly need right now. Maybe Ashley forgot her house keys. Corrine wiped her hands on her pants and stood up, walking to the door and opening it, only to nearly choke on the bacon she'd been chewing. Standing on the porch was a woman, tall and lithe, in a button down long sleeved shirt and a pencil skirt wth long, shiny light brown hair.

"How did you even know where-"

"Your name is in the credits," Mary said, "it isn't hard to look up personal information of people, so I went to Simple's house and asked where you were these days. She directed me here. Don't think she knew who I was, otherwise she probably wouldn't have. Can I come in?"

Mary. Fucking Mary. She'd given Corrine the glass turtle, and she'd given her abandonment issues. What could she possibly want to give her now?

                                                                                                             ***

Courtney was standing in her bedroom, admiring her outfit in the mirror while Violet sat on the bed and watched. Courtney sighed as she ran her hands down the clothes, smoothing out whatever wrinkles there were, before exhaling and shaking her head.

"It's weird," Courtney said, "somehow I feel less...real...since the surgery. Somehow beforehand I felt more authentic to myself, and now I have a hard time seeing my wardrobe as anything other than dressup."

"That is weird," Violet said, "why do you, uh, think that is?"

"I don't know, and I wish I did, cause it's bothering me," Courtney said, "did you get your applications for college? Do you have any preferences for where you go?"

"I did," Violet said, "but um, but I, uh, I don't, ya know...I don't know. I might not go. I don't know that I'm ready."

"What are you talking about?" Courtney asked, turning to face her now, "...you mean mentally? You know there's colleges that have courses that pander - no, that's not the right word - um...that are designed specifically for students who need extra help, right? Plus you'll have your mom, and me."

"What if you don't stay close?" Violet asked meekly, and Courtney walked to the bed and sat down beside her.

"...yeah, that would've been something to worry about, but I don't want to go far away. I don't wanna leave my dad alone, and I don't wanna leave you either," Courtney said, putting one hand on her own knee, the other crossing the blanket and holding onto Violet's, adding, "change is scary enough, believe me I know, and so I'd prefer to make changes in small doses. I'm already going to college, why also go far away to do it?"

Violet nodded. Truth be told, she'd never really expected to go to college, and she was scared of the idea. What if she failed? She'd certainly fail socially, that was obvious even to her, but what if she failed academically? In all honesty, she'd rarely done well at high school, even with the help she'd received for her mental disabilities. That not only made her sad about the state of her faculties (mental faculties, not school faculties, although nothing much good could be said about them either to be fair) but also hyper aware that this trend could likely continue for the rest of her life in every aspect.

"What if we go to the same school?" Courtney asked and Violet turned her head and looked at her; Courtney smiled and continued, pushing her hair from her face, "like, what if we pick the same place and go together, and that way you won't be alone and you'll have extra help? Would that make you feel more comfortable?"

Violet nodded slowly, then sighed.

"But, um, I don't want you to, you know, like, uh...like, um, give up a good education just for me," Violet said and Courtney giggled and leaned in, kissing her on the cheek. Violet blushed and leaned against Courtney, who held her gently and stroked her hair.

"You make me feel accepted," Courtney said quietly, "I'll make you feel accepted. It's what we do."

It was what they did, she wasn't wrong, and Violet was acutely aware of this fact. After all, it had initially been the basis for their entire friendship. Now that that had blossomed into something romantic, she couldn't help but feel so lucky to have someone so supportive around her from all sides. Her mother, Courtney, even her father to the extent that he could be. Noreen and Corrine had both been very helpful in giving her a chance to discuss and explore herself. She was a very lucky young lady. but she was especially thankful for Courtney. Courtney, out of them all, truly understood what it was like to be somewhat of a social pariah in a way that even just general queer people might not, and Violet liked that they shared that bond. Sad they had to, but glad they had eachother to do so with.

"...I love you," Violet said, taking Courtney by surprise. She'd rarely if ever heard her say it to anyone outside of or perhaps even to her own mother.

"I love you too," Courtney said, kissing the side of her head.

Adolescence is hell, but if you've got at least one person who understands that by your side, it can be less hellish.

                                                                                                            ***

Nat stood in front of her bedroom mirror admiring herself in her new workout clothes; tight black shorts and a black sports bra, the two both with white trim. Sure, it didn't leave much to the imagination and, honestly, Natasha kind of hated being that objectified, but this is what was the norm for work out clothes, and who was she to argue. Besides, if they went for morning runs, who would really see them anyway. Sharla had mentioned she preferred running in rather secluded areas anyway, so Nat figured nobody would really stare because nobody would really be around to do so. The bedroom door opened and Jay entered, drinking a soda from a gas station cup.

"Hey, wow, is this just an everyday outfit or?" he asked.

"It could be, depending on what kind of workout you're interested in doing," Nat said, approaching him and kissing his cheek, making him blush; she laughed and added, "it's actually for runs that Sharla wants me to go on with her. She's trying to get me in better shape."

"You're already in the best shape, you're Natasha shaped," Jay said and Nat giggled.

"God, you're such a dweeb," she said. Ever since the engagement, she and Jay had been hopelessly flirtatious like two teenagers, and honestly, she was loving it. It'd been such a long time since she'd felt this way. She walked back to the mirror and started to change back into her sweater and jeans, as Jay stood there sipping on his straw. After she was done, she turned to face him again, pulling her hair up into a bun, and asked, "what?"

"You really wanna do this, right? You're not just telling me you want to because I asked and you're afraid of turning me down?" Jay asked, and Nat scoffed.

"Like I'd ever be afraid of rejecting someone," she said, smirking, "but no, of course not, why...where is this coming from?"

"I was engaged once before," Jay said, "well, kinda, for like...a week. This girl I dated all throughout highschool. Really in hindsight kinda stupid of me to assume that my first real love would be the one I'd have forever, those do happen albeit rarely, so I was just being naive I guess. I just really wanted to believe it would happen. After about a week, maybe week and a half, while I was still on cloud 9, she told me she was actually just scared to say no and that she felt we were too young, and ya know, she wasn't wrong, really. I appreciate her honesty, too. But god if it didn't leave a bad impression on me for my chances at trustworthy romance."

"Well," Nat said, approaching him again and putting her hands on his chest, "lucky for you, or not, I don't know what you're into, I'm not a high school girl. I'm a fully grown and mature woman?"

Jay raised an eyebrow at her and she laughed.

"Alright, well, maybe not mature, but fully grown anyway," she said, continuing, "and yes, of course I am saying yes because I want to. You know me, man, when have I ever said yes to being pressured? I left an entire station cause of that, remember? So yes, Jay, I want this, and more, with you. And not because you asked me, but because I wanted it regardless."

Jay blushed again and nodded, hugging her tightly to his chest. Honestly, he spent so much time at this house as it was, it already felt like home. She felt like home. Violet felt like his daughter. He didn't want any other family, he wanted this family or nothing else, and he was so happy to be given the chance to have that. He was determined to work as hard as he could to prove he was worth it. As he breathed in her natural scent, he couldn't help but remember when they'd first met. How she had given him the chance to prove himself, artistically, to shooting her show and how immediately beautiful she'd seemed to him, and not just physically, but as a whole person.

"This is nice," Nat whispered, and he nodded; she added, "I like this. Just this. Just being here in your arms."

"Well, you never have to be anywhere else," Jay said and Nat patted him on the back.

"That's where you're wrong, I really need to use the bathroom," she said, laughing, him laughing along with her as she got away from him and headed into the hall bathroom.

                                                                                                           ***

"You still have it," Mary said, admiring the Glass Turtle on the curio shelf in the living room.

"Of course I do, why would I get rid of it?" Corrine asked.

"I don't know. Sometimes when people break up they get rid of anything their ex gave them or that reminds them of their ex," Mary said, shrugging.

"Well, I think it should be noted first off that we didn't break up, you flat out abandoned me, and there's a big difference there when there's no closure whatsoever. I feel more like a widow than an ex," Corrine said, crossing her legs as she sat in the armchair, watching, "and secondly, it meant a lot to me then, and I don't want to lose that feeling, that memory, so."

Mary turned and walked around the couch, seating herself. Corrine furrowed her brow and shook her head, confused.

"What are you even doing here?" she asked.

"I'm here cause I graduated and wanted to come back," Mary said, "pretty simple. But I also wanted to find you because, well, my mother really screwed things up didn't she? I didn't want to stop talking to you, being with you, but she wouldn't accept us, and I knew I'd be homeless and out of school if I didn't listen to her."

"I know the feeling," Corrine said, sighing.

"I wanted to apologize," Mary said, "maybe see if we could pick up where we left off."

"That...that would've been nice, but...I'm happy now," Corrine said, thinking of Ashley, "I've been through a lot this year, I stole a guys wife."

"Nice," Mary said, the both of them laughing.

"And to be honest," Corrine said, "I've actually never felt more secure or certain in my identity than I do now, and a lot of that is because of her. You leaving made me question my self worth, and even if it wasn't intentional, even if it wasn't your decision or whatever, it still messed me up pretty bad. I don't know that I can so easily forgive that."

Mary nodded, completely understanding. Corrine sighed. All she'd wanted for so long now was for Mary to come back, to come back and have this exact moment as they were having it right now, and now that it was happening...goodnss, it made her so nervous. The fantasy was gone though. Ashley had outright replaced whatever feelings Corrine had ever had for Mary in a romantic sense. Sure, she'd always value the time they had together, but it would never be the same kind of feeling.

"You know," Corrine said, chewing her hair anxiously, "I was so upset. I was devastated. You accepted me, you taught me it was okay to be myself, you helped me see how great life could be if I just fully embraced it all, and then you left, and that taught me more of a lesson than all the other things did, and ever since then I kept having this...this daydream that one day you'd come back, like a white knight, and you'd rescue me from a life of mediocrity and sadness, but...someone beat you to it."

Mary smiled.

"Well," she said, "I'm glad you're happy. More than anything I just...I felt the need to say sorry. Especially since it wasn't even my fault, and I hate being blamed for things I didn't actually have a hand in, decision wise."

"I understand that, and I appreciate it," Corrine said.

"I should get going," Mary said, standing up, "...maybe we can have lunch sometime? Catch up on things?"

Corrine nodded, and Mary smiled again, then said goodbye and let herself out. As Corrine watched her go, all she could think about was how nice it was to have that closure. And how she wanted more. The daydream was dormant, not dead. Corrine slumped in the chair.

"fuck," she whispered.

                                                                                                          ***

"Hurry up slowpoke!" Sharla shouted, laughing as she waited, catching her breath, squirting her water bottle into her mouth as Nat caught up at the top of the hill. They were in a fairly nice neighborhood, one with a lot of hills which was good for running, and Nat simply wasn't used to doing this much physical work. She stopped and bent over, hands posted on her knees, trying to catch her breath as well as Sharla laughed at her and asked, "you doing okay?"

"Alright, just cause you're The Flash doesn't mean everyone is," Natasha said, making Sharla laugh harder; Nat wiped her forehead on her arm and said, "christ, how do you manage this so regularly?"

"Well the thing about exercise that people don't seem to understand - and this obviously comes with a caveat for people with chronic physical pain or something - is that the more you do it the easier it becomes, because the more your body becomes accustomed to it, really. So do it with me for a few months and you'll see that-"

"MONTHS?" Nat asked, sounding shocked, causing Sharla to double over in laughter as Nat added, "are you trying to kill me??"

Sharla collected herself as he watch beeped and she glanced at it. She had a yoga appointment to get to soon, so they needed to wrap this run up, but she wasn't about to force Nat, who had now perched herself on a nearby bench. Sharla stood in front of the bench, one hand on her hip.

"No, you're right," Nat said, "it is good to be in good shape, and I should be in shape, otherwise, well, I won't be and that isn't healthy."

"Gee, what insight," Sharla said, grinning as Nat flipped her off, and the two continued laughing; Sharla took another squirt, then asked, "you about ready to finish up?"

"Just...just gimme a minute, man," Nat said.

"Take your time."

Nat leaned her head back on the bench and smiled. She bit her lip, and figured, ya know what, this was her best friend, so screw the need for privacy.

"Jay asked me to marry him," she said, "and I know, it...it kinda came out of the blue, but, god I'm so happy. I didn't even hesitate to answer. I think, now, I could handle family and work at the same time. I feel like, ya know, when Stephen and I tried, not only were we very young, and Violet was kind of...unexpected, but also we just didn't understand work life balance, you know? Anyway, now that I'm older, I feel like I get it, I feel like I am more capable of making the effort and sticking with it, like doing this with you. He got down on one knee and everything, gave me a whole little prepared speech, it was SO cute, Sharla."

No response.

"Sharla?" Nat asked, leaning back up and looking at Sharla, who was standing there, one hand back on her chest, her breathing shallow. Nat sat further up and grimaced, asking once more, "Sharla? You okay?"

"I can't," Sharla said, "...I can't feel my arm. Nat, I can't feel my arm."

Nat and Sharla locked eyes and Sharla dropped to her knees, then fell face first into the grass.

"Sharla?!" Nat shouted, now jumping up from the bench and immediately crawling over to her; she shook her to no avail, then looked up at the people taking their trash out or walking their dogs and shouted, "Help! Call for help! Sharla? Sharla! Can you hear me?!"

Nat rolled Sharla onto her back and patted her face, but Sharla just kept staring straight ahead.

"Sharla?!"

The reviews, god the reviews.

Not a single negative one among them. Even the literary snobs who usually would hate this sort of gimmick couldn't bring themselves to talk dirty on Nat's book. The reviews online, as well, were excellent. People were saying how they bought the book expecting yet another 'self help guru spouting the usual positivity nonsense" and instead were greeted with having to face their own expectations, thus leading them to think about who they were as people and how they saw others. How they saw themselves. Misty had taken a gamble unlike any gamble, but she'd achieved her goal, and Nat was reaping the rewards. Sitting on her laptop in her kitchen, scrolling through a seemingly endless parade of reviews on various sites, Natasha just couldn't help but stay smiling like an idiot. The kitchen side door opened, and Nat turned to see Sharla, holding a bottle of wine.

"You read my mind," Nat said, "nice to have something positive to celebrate for a change."

"I can't even believe it," Sharla replied as she uncorked the bottle and grabbed two glasses from a nearby cupboard, adding, "you sold them literally nothing and they love you for it. That should be a scam. Instead, they're seeing it from the perspective of how they shouldn't take anyones advice about their lives seriously, except perhaps actual medical professionals."

"Exactly, I'm just some woman on TV, or the internet, now, and I'm not capable of running strangers lives. Hell, I'm barely capable of running my own," Nat said as Sharla poured the wine and they each took a sip; Nat wiped her mouth on her sleeve and sighed, shaking her head, "goddamn, Sharla...this is unreal. I was furious at Misty, but...she was right. She really did know me best."

"Where is everyone?" Sharla asked, looking around.

"Jay should be back in a bit, he's out doing a shoot elsewhere. Corrine is at Ashley's, I think, and Violet said she was going to Noreen's," Nat said, "so for the first time in a while, I'm completely alone. Or, at least, I was, before you and your wine showed up."

"I can leave, if you'd prefer, you hermit," Sharla said, making Nat laugh and shake her head.

"Nah, I'm happy to get to share in my success with my best friend," Nat said, the two women clinking their glasses together. As Sharla lifted hers to her lips, she smirked. She was a best friend. All she'd ever hoped for in her life was for another woman to like her enough to call her her best friend, and now she finally had it. What a perfect life, she thought. What more could someone want?

                                                                                                          ***

Corrine opened the door to find Stephen standing on the porch.

"Oh," she mumbled, her hair hiding half her face, "this is awkward. Ashley isn't here. She's out getting dinner."

"That's fine, I'm mostly here to get more clothes, so," Stephen said, holding up the plastic tub he had in his hands. Corrine stepped aside and let him in. Stephen entered, thanking her, and headed to the bedroom, Corrine following him. As he tossed the tub on the bed and started rooting through the dresser and the closet, he couldn't help but notice her eyes on him. From where she stood, cross armed in the doorway, he felt like he was being surveyed like some kind of wild animal. After a few minutes, he stopped and turned to her, a single boot in his hands.

"You know, I'm not gonna steal something from my own house," he said, "also where is my other boot?"

"Oh, I'm...I'm sorry, I didn't mean to...I just didn't know what else to do," Corrine said, stammering.

"It's fine, sorry, I'm...I just...I feel weird about everything," Stephen said as Corrine came further into the room and sat on the bed; Stephen continued his digging through the closet, tossing stuff into the tub as he added, "we haven't really gotten to speak much, and not just since things happened but, like, ever, really. I don't know anything about you, honestly, and that's what really hurts, I think. My girlfriend left me for someone I don't know anything about."

"What's to know? I edit film and I like animals," Corrine answered, shrugging.

"I guess more what I mean is, like..."

Stephen turned to look at her, and Corrine looked down at her shoes.

"...why you?" he asked, "and I don't mean that in a personal way, please don't take it like that. I guess I just...I don't understand why she would choose someone like you, so..."

Stephen didn't even know what word he was looking for as Corrine sat in torturous anxiety, waiting to be unintentionally insulted. After a bit Stephen gave up and sat on the bed beside her. Neither one said anything for a while, instead simply sitting there, with the soft whirring of the ceiling fan filling the silence around them. After a bit, Stephen exhaled and looked down at his hands.

"I guess I'm just upset," he said.

"Understandable," Corrine said, shrugging, "given everything that's happened. And it's stupid to even give you the usual statements people give in these sorts of situations, you know, where they're like 'oh we didn't mean for this to happen' or whatever, cause I feel like that's usually a given. I think most people don't set out to hurt those they love and if they do then they're just bad people."

"Not just that, but...she wasn't who I thought she was, hell, she wasn't even who she thought she was. I can't be mad at her for discovering something about herself, or at the very least, coming to terms with it," Stephen said, "ya know, I remember this one time, about a week after Nat and I officially divorced, and Ashley found me crying cause during the divorce proceedings, Nat told me that she didn't think we were ever supposed to be together. That hurt so deep. Ashley told me that sometimes we end up with the wrong people but that it can lead to us ending up with the right people. I didn't know she meant that for herself, though."

Corrine felt her heart break a little. She reached out and put a hand on Stephen's back and he smiled weakly at this awkward gesture of affection.

"I guess," Stephen said, "it still hurts, regardless. But...but Nat was right the entire time, about, you know, listening to yourself. Trusting yourself. That's what Ashley has done and...and I'd never want to force her to be someone she isn't. Not when I've seen now how happy she is with you firsthand. All I want is for her to be happy, just like all I wanted was for Natty to be happy. All I want is for my daughter to be happy. I just want the women in my life to be happy."

Corrine blushed. Stephen genuinely was a good man, and they were hard to find. As far as fathers went, Violet was lucky.

"I guess the hardest part, in the end, besides the pain," Stephen finished, "is that I don't know what I want, or if I deserve to be happy. I don't even know that I believe in romance anymore. What if something happens again? Is it even worth it at this point, you know?"

"It's always worth it," Corrine said, "I felt the same way after the girl I liked left me. I just thought 'well, what's the use in putting in effort if it won't ultimately be reciprocated', but...it is worth it. Nat would tell you the same thing. Opening yourself to people, the way I've opened myself to her, Violet, Ashley...it does improve your life. The only thing you can do after a loss like that is just keep going, cause unfortunately, the alternative is frowned upon."

Stephen laughed, which made Corrine laugh. He hadn't really ever spoken to her much until now, but he could see what Natasha liked about her, why she'd become so attached, and frankly, he could even see what Ashley found attractive. Stephen turned and hugged her, taking her by surprise, and whispering 'thank you'. Corrine hugged him back and then offered to help him pack. They never did find his other boot though.

                                                                                                           ***

"I was honestly kinda livid at first," Nat said.

She and Sharla had moved from the kitchen to the living room, both sitting on the couch, sipping wine and eating salmon, cheese and crackers, a snack Sharla herself had put together for them.

"I don't blame you, it was a weird decision, but it turned out to be the best," Sharla replied, licking the wine from her lips, "so what do you think you'll do now?"

"Honestly, no idea. Show will be off air for a while after this week, and honestly...I might just go on vacation. I can't remember the last vacation I took, and before you add something snarky, no, the livestream didn't count. That was an unexpected brief hiatus. I want a full on vacation with pedicures and manicures and the whole spa treatment and nice new restaurants."

"I wouldn't blame you if you did," Sharla said, shrugging, "I mean, you work yourself to death, you deserve a break. You gonna go by yourself or?"

"Of course not, I'll take Violet, and hell, if her father lets me, we'll take Courtney too. Violet would be thrilled at that," Nat said.

A moment passed as Nat poured herself more wine while Sharla ate a snack. After a bit of chewing and swallowing, following it up with wine, Sharla cleared her throat and smirked.

"And what about Jay?" she asked.

"What about Jay?" Nat echoed.

"You gonna take him too?"

"Yeah, I'll stuff him in a pet carrier and drag him along," Nat said, half joking, "he's not my dog, he's allowed to come or stay as he pleases. I mean, I'll ask him, but I won't force him."

"What's going on between you two now? Cause you guys hired a few more cameramen, and if he's not the one doing that anymore, if he's just in charge of the financial end of things, where does that leave you guys?"

"What, you think his job as my cinematographer was a direct relation to my attraction to him?'

"First of all, I don't think calling what he does cinematography is fair," Sharla said, the both of them laughing as she added, "but no, I just mean...if he no longer has to be directly involved on a daily or weekly basis, depending on the upload schedule, then, ya know, where does that leave things? You have to admit having constant access to him was probably something helped spur those feelings, right?"

"Kind of, but not really," Nat replied, shrugging, "I mean...he left the station with me. He was supportive the entire time. Of every decision, actually. I mean, sure, proximity helps, you're not wrong, and I'd be stupid to deny it, but it wasn't the reason. The reason is because he's a good man and he's good to my daughter and I love him."

She suddenly realized that, in all the time they'd been together, she couldn't remember ever actually saying that to him. She could't recall telling Jay she loved him, truly and deeply. She might've said it in passing, or in reciprocation, but never with the force or feeling that left her mouth like it just did now. Suddenly she felt like she and Jay had to have a talk.

                                                                                                           ***

"Why are you scared?" Noreen asked.

Violet had gone to Noreen's to ask for advice, and they were currently sitting in Noreen's bedroom, Noreen cross legged on the bed while Violet lay upside down on it on her back. Violet shrugged in response, and Noreen laughed. Such a typical teenager response.

"It's my dad," Violet said, "um, my mom, uh, was really cool about everything, you know? But my dad...Aunt Ashley just left him for a woman, and what if, um, what if he, uh, like..."

"Hates you for it too? Is that what you're afraid of? You think he'll think 'god, even my own daughter is queer' and be disappointed?" Noreen asked and Violet nodded; Noreen said and laid on her back as well beside Violet as she added, "well, it's always a possibility, but I don't think that would happen. Stephen seems nice, and from what you've told me, he loves you so much."

Violet nodded, but didn't respond. She ran through the last few weeks in her head. Courtney's surgery, recovering, their talk in the hospital, and that kiss...god that kiss. Violet never once thought she'd be kissing anyone, let alone another girl. Especially not her only friend. But everytime she reminded herself of it, she felt so happy inside, and she couldn't help but start to smile. She wanted to share her joy with her father, but she was scared. She'd been scared of telling her mother too, but in the end, she knew her mother would accept her no matter what. After all, Nat had let a lesbian move in with them without questioning a thing. Stephen, on the other hand...well, he'd done the same, but unintentionally.

"Dads are weird," Noreen said, continuing, "moms are always almost supportive, even if they start out unsupportive they eventually come back around. But dads can be...fickle. But honestly, your dad...I'd be surprised if he was anything but supportive and understanding as well."

Violet knew, logically, that this was the case. But that didn't make her less scared. She started to chew on her hair and wondered when she should tell him...

"And," Noreen added, "you also don't have to say anything ever. Nobody is required to come out. You can just be yourself and he can just be forced to grapple with it as he learns about it. That's also an option. You and Courtney aren't...you know?"

"Ew," Violet said, scowling, "I don't ever wanna do that with anyone."

Noreen laughed and nodded.

"Okay, gotcha," Noreen said, "just making sure. You're my niece, I want you to be safe, that's all. But, if you're attaching the asexual label to yourself, then that's good to know as well. Whatever you decide, kiddo, you know I'll support you. I'm just happy you've learned some things about yourself."

"Me too," Violet said, "especially since learning is really hard for me!"

They both started laughing, and it felt good. It felt to feel good, to be able to joke about herself. Violet finally felt like she had a full family again, and she honestly couldn't be happier.

                                                                                                      ***

Sitting in the kitchen at opposite ends of the table, each eating from their own takeout containers, Corrine didn't know how to bring up what had happened today. As she scooped more rice with her folk, watching Ashley pick up her soup and sip it carefully, she knew she should, but how? The room was barely lit, the dimmer switched turned down to create a comforting and romantic ambiance, and Corrine certainly felt relaxed outside of this one thing. After she ate a potsticker, she then cleared her throat and tossed her hair a little.

"Stephen came by today," she said flatly, causing Ashley to almost choke on soup before setting the container down.

"Run that by me again?" she asked.

"Stephen came by today," Corrine repeated, "but he just came to get some things, clothes mostly. But we did sit and talk, mostly about you. Well, actually, kinda about your view of me, now that I think about it. He doesn't understand how you can be with someone like me. Why you would choose me, of all people, to love. And the thing is...I don't get it either, but I've also stopped questioning it."

Ashley smiled and posted an elbow up on the table, resting her chin in her hand.

"Is that so?" she asked softly.

"Mhm," Corrine said, nodding, "because the fact of the matter is, you do. You did choose me and you do love me and who am I to doubt what you say. You aren't a liar. Why would you lie about that, especially now with the fallout that's come of it? So frankly, I don't really care anymore, and it feels good to just feel stable, but Stephen...I don't know if Stephen will ever feel stable again honestly, and that's worrying."

Ashley nodded, frowning a bit.

"Yeah," she said quietly, "yeah I know. And I feel bad about him getting caught in the unintentional crossfire of my discovery of myself, or rather my acceptance of it, but he's a blameless victim. And, for what it's worth, when I needed someone, he was there. I don't regret a minute we had together, outside of hurting my sister, of course. But he'll be okay. With Nat to guide him the way she does everyone, he'll be fine. He's a grown man, and he's not bad at recognizing or processing his emotions unlike other men it seems like. But you...you're right. There's no reason to doubt."

Corrine blushed and looked down at the food on the table to hide her embarrassment.

"It's funny," Corrine said, as Ashley got up and turned off the dimmer, turning the room to near pitch black as she walked towards Corrine; "I always thought I knew what being loved actually felt like, but it turned out that was nothing more than young infatuation. You actually love me. And now that I have you, I don't ever wanna be loved by anyone else."

"Good," Ashley whispered as she sat in Corrine's lap, "because nobody else is allowed to love you but me."

And with that she held her face and kissed her.

                                                                                                             ***

Nat was laying in bed by the time Jay got back to the house. Granted she was in bed proper, she was more laying atop it, still drinking wine, eating the snacks Sharla had made that early evening, and just browsing travel sites on her laptop. Jay entered the bedroom and pulled off his jacket, then turned to face the bed, tossing the jacket on it, standing and staring at her. Natasha smiled and shut the lid of her laptop.

"Hey, busy day?" she asked.

"I need to tell you something," Jay said, and Nat felt her stomach drop as he sat on the end of the bed; he cleared his throat and continued, "um...when we decided to leave the station, and I decided to be your cameraman, and we went on this joint venture together, of course picking up others along the way, I honestly didn't see it in any way that meant longevity, it terms of career. I want to do other things. Now that we have other camera men, I feel like I'm able to."

"You're absolutely not obligated to do just my show," Nat said, "you know that."

"I know, but that was kind of the thing holding us to eachother," Jay said, "and, I mean, now I'm handling the financial end of things, so I'll always be involved regardless, but I want there to be a less work related reason to be involved."

Nat sat up, now curious.

"Like what? What did you have in mind? Cause I was planning a vacation, and if you wanna come then I'd love-"

"I need more than a vacation, Natasha," Jay said, "I need more in general. But I'm afraid, having been through what you've been through, you'll never want more again."

"Who said I don't want more? I always want more! I'm gluttenous!" Nat said, making him laugh. Jay reached into the coat pocket and pulled out a small box. Nat didn't even need anything more, she knew exactly what this was, and she bit her lip in an attempt not to cry.

"If that's the case," Jay said, "then let me do this properly."

He climbed down from the bed and got on one knee.

"You are, without a doubt, the single most amazing woman I've ever met. You're ambitious and driven and creative, and such a genuinely good hearted person. When you wanted me to leave the station with you, I was shocked, but thrilled at such an opportunity. And ever since then, god...my life is not what I thought it would be, but I wouldn't want it to be anything else, wouldn't wanna it to be with anyone else. You're so beautiful, Natasha, and I'm so happy to have spent these last few years with you, so maybe we can spend even more years together, if you'll marry me."

Jay opened the lid of the little box, and Natasha didn't even respond with anything other than a nod and started crying. She leaned down and hugged him, making him laugh. After the hug, she pulled away and he slid the ring on her finger, then kissed her. Of all the things she expected to find during her career - creative fulfillment, success, financial independency - the one thing she didn't expect was love, especially not after how Stephen had left.

And again...she sort of owed this to Sharla. Sharla was the one who had mentioned how cute Jay was, and how right they seemed together. Natasha really was right when she'd called her her best friend.

Misty LeClaire had been making up stories since she was a little girl.

Anytime she had a writing assignment for school, she always overexcelled. This gradually led to her writing for fun outside of that, which led to her eventually submitting short fiction to magazines. But this was where the rude awakening began, because, as Misty soon learned, there was a big difference between fiction that made you happy and fiction that made you successful, and she wasn't attaining the second one. And so, Misty changed gears. She took the things she was good at, and she went about writing for others instead of herself. She was good at information gathering, pairing things down to just the essentials, and mimicking the voices of others, which made her the ideal candidate when it came to ghost writing.

But the one thing she hadn't counted on was having to ghost write for someone who's entire shtick was telling people to think for themselves. Which is why, when the book released the day prior and Natasha picked up a copy, she was...well...understandably confused by its contents.

                                                                                                           ***

"You do realize why this is insane, right?" Nat asked, as she and Misty sat in her living room, the book on the coffee table between them; Nat gestured toward it and shook her head in disbelief, "I don't...I don't even really know how you managed to get away with it, quite frankly."

"The publisher wasn't happy, trust me," Misty replied, "I had to really sell it to them."

"Yeah, and how did that go?" Nat asked, leaning back into her couch and folding her arms.

"Not good!" Misty said, laughing, as Nat continued shaking her head. Misty seemed so...unfazed. As if what she'd done was normal. Totally and completely understandable. Not at all freaking weird. Nat just couldn't wrap her head around it. After a few minutes of chewing on her lip and thinking about it, she finally spoke again.

"You know, when we agreed to do this, you said you would shadow me, take notes, organize it all and put out something that would show the public what my life was like, to make me even more relatable than I apparently already am. What happened to that idea? I liked that idea," Nat said.

"That idea didn't feel honest," Misty said, shrugging, "it felt...it felt disingenuous to who you are, and what you represent to others."

"And what is that? What do I represent?" Nat asked, sounding annoyed.

"Choice," Misty said flatly, "I mean, plain and simple. Choice. You represent choice. All you ever tell people is not to listen to you, and to make the decisions they feel are right for themselves. I figure, hell, reading this book might make you relatable, sure, but it'll also be like a guidebook, and who wants that. They should think for themselves. Not buy a book because it tells them what to think, but because it suggests their own thoughts are far more worthwhile."

Nat blinked a few times. That...certainly hadn't been the answer she'd been anticipating. She sighed and reached up, rubbing her face in her hands. Misty set her coffee mug on the table and crossed her legs.

"You know," Misty continued, "when I was first starting out, like professionally, not when I first started writing, I was told that I'm good at mimicking others. You don't really think about what that does to your personality at the time though. Sure, it got me work, but it...it created this empty hole inside of me, where because I never wrote as myself, I don't think I'm a person. I've been everyone but me."

Nat nodded, listening. Misty had a point. To spend ones entire life covering others entire lives, in some cases outright pretending to be them while simultaneously not getting the credit for the things "they" wrote...that had to be intensely frustrating. Nat's eyes scanned back down to the book on the table between them.

"Regardless of anything else," Misty finished, "I think it goes without saying that I've never really had much of a chance to utilize my writing to explore myself. I've explored others to death. Plumbed the depths of their personalities, discovered who they were and what made them tick. But...I've never known those very same things about me. I have vague ideas, sure, but nothing concrete. I think...I think yours might be the last one I write. I think I want to find out about me next."

Nat smiled. Had this, in some way, been yet another example of her ability to get people to want to listen to themselves? She sure did seem to have a knack for that. Nat sighed and crossed her legs.

"I guess in the grand scheme of things what you did isn't bad or even wrong," Nat said, "just...confusing. Not what anyone was expecting. But, ya know, perhaps that's what this business is. Always leave 'em guessing."

"Well, if there's one thing I'm good at," Misty replied, "it's giving people something to think about."

                                                                                                          ***

"You're very talented," her 11th grade english teacher said, "you excel at not using your own voice, which is not a skill every writer has, and it's likely to guarantee you a good deal of success. But I am concerned that you don't have a voice of your own."

Misty had always enjoyed english classes throughout school, but her favorite had been her 11th grade teacher, Mr. Markson's, class. He was encouraging, supportive and he truly did see her potential, something every teacher had seen but not every teacher had brought attention to. She appreciated that.

"Well," Misty said, shrugging, standing in front of his desk, "is that so important? I mean, fiction lives or dies by how realistic its characters are, right? So being capable of having multiple voices is, as you said, a good skill to possess."

"It is," Mr. Markson said, nodding, "but at the same time I worry that you may don't understand why not having your own is concerning. Your own voice is what separates you from the rest of the writers in the world, it's what makes you recognizable. Yes, the ability you have is impressive, and I'm jealous even, but if your characters voices overshadow your own, then...all anyone will remember is them as their own existing people, not the person who brought them to life. Again, not necessarily a bad thing, you want people to connect with them that deeply, but it's just something to keep in mind."

Misty tried to keep this in mind, but really, she didn't understand the problem. Most of her life, especially amongst her peers, nobody liked her anyway, so why care if she had her own voice? Clearly, people were more interested in her if she was someone else. And so she stuck the course. She remained being others, because that seemed far more preferable, especially in regards to her chances at success. And she wasn't wrong. That very same skill was what eventually got her work doing ghost writing. Oddly enough, she found that she really didn't care about getting credit, either. The act of writing itself was enough to sustain her. She was paid handsomely, and so she could live rather comfortably. She wrote her own original stuff in her spare time, published to a small website she ran that housed all her work under a pseudonym, but otherwise, she really didn't care just spending her life being other people.

Until she met Natasha.

                                                                                                            ***

"I gotta say," Nat said, "when I opened it up just to find...well...what I found, I wasn't even angry, I was just confused."

"Probably the likely reaction of everyone," Misty responded, shrugging.

"That being said, your argument makes a great deal of sense," Nat continued, "and, you really did kind of capture the essence of who I am and what it is I stand for and so how can I possibly be angry about that? Is it a little scammy to get paid for doing essentially nothing? Debatable, but hey, I think you're the only one who ever really got it, so how mad can I realistically be?"

Misty chuckled at this sentiment, but nodded in agreement. She had, after all, done her job, and judging by the numbers thusfar, the book was on its way to being a totally financial success. She picked her mug back up and continued sipping the coffee.

"But folks might be mad, understandably so," Nat added, "I mean, after all, we did just sell them an empty book."

Misty laughed, nodding again.

"We sure did," she said.

That was the thing. Misty had spent weeks, months even, learning things about Nat, her life and her business, and compiled it all into heavily detailed notes, only to, in turn, throw all of that out in favor of something that, as Nat had put it, captured the essence of who she was and what she stood for. Misty finished drinking the coffee and plopped the mug back down on the table, then sighed.

"Listen," she said, "as I said, your entire persona is that you want people to think for themselves, trust their own guts, feelings, emotions. You don't want to be a leader. You want them to lead themselves. That's what people find admirable about you. So how could I, in turn, release something that would be the exact antithesis of that very sentiment? I mean, this book was supposed to show your life to people, but people often model their lives after those they admire, sometimes intentionally, sometimes not, and that just seemed so...wrong. That isn't you. So instead I opted to leave the entire thing blank, as if to say 'Look, what's important is that everyones story is their own, and you can write yours too'. I know it's out there, but...it just felt right."

Natasha had a hard time arguing, really. Misty had, in actuality, gotten her down to a science. Besides, everyone already knew what Natasha's life was like. She'd been so open about it in interviews, on the website, everyone knew the history of the show and herself, why repackage and resell them the same old story again when doing something new was far more interesting and unexpected?

"And what happens when they complain? Because someone inevitably will," Nat asked, and Misty shrugged.

"Fuck 'em," she said, "is the book a novelty, a prop, a gag? Probably. But it's also a statement. Somehow with yours I did so much more by saying nothing than all the ones I wrote where I said too much. I think that alone speaks for itself."

Natasha smiled and leaned forward, picking the book back up and skimming through its empty pages.

"So what do you plan to do now?" she asked.

"Honestly, I don't know," Misty replied, "I was thinking maybe I would do something for myself. Work on actually submitting and publishing fiction. With my track record now, people can't say no to me. All I do know is this...I am so tired of writing for others, of being others, and I'd kinda like to learn who I am for a change. I guess I owe that all to you, too. I'd like to follow my own instincts, you know? That's what you always preach, so."

"I think that's a great idea," Nat said, putting the book down in her lap and looking up at Misty, "...I guess we don't have any business together anymore now that this is completed, but that doesn't mean we can't stay friends. I'd like to keep you on somehow. Give you a job with the site, the company, but only if you want to."

"Maybe after a little hiatus," Misty said, standing up and shrugging as she pulled her coat back on, "but we'll see. I need some downtime first and foremost."

Nat got up and followed Misty to the door. Misty opened the front door and stood there, then turned around and faced Natasha.

"You know," Misty said, pulling her hood up over her head, "I had an english teacher once, who I greatly respected and who was very supportive of me, tell me that even though I posessed magnificent skill in giving voice to others, I had no voice of my own. But look at where that's gotten me. Sure, maybe I don't have my own work out there and maybe I odn't know who I am exactly, but I'm successful, and now I can bankroll my own projects as a result. Guess it just goes to show that teachers don't know everything, even if they do believe in you."

Nat laughed as Misty held her hand out, and Nat shook it. As Nat watched Misty walk to her car, she couldn't help but wonder something.

"Hey," Nat called out, "How did you manage to get them to publish a blank book?"

Misty stopped, hand on the car door handle and looked back, shrugging.

"I didn't," she said, "I just sent it off myself."

And with that, she got into her car and drove away, leaving Nat rather speechless. If Nat was a hero to others...Misty was hers.

                                                                                                            ***

A joy of words doesn't come from nowhere. It often has to be nurtured, and Misty LeClaire had it nurtured to the nth degree. When she was a little girl, she would crawl into her mother's bed with storybooks and ask her to read them to her until she fell asleep in her arms. Misty's mother continued to nurture her interest in the written word as she got older, taking her to libraries, book signings, and even bookmobiles. She and her mother even had little book club nights featuring just the two of them. They would each pick a book and they would sit in the living room with the soft lighting and the quiet and they would read together. Sometimes they would even pick the same book so they could discuss it afterwards.

And then, one day, a teacher told Misty she didn't have her own voice. That she was talented, that she could speak for others, fictional or otherwise, but that she couldn't speak for herself. That she didn't know what her internal dialogue sounded like. She was so distraught that she sat at the kitchen table and ate an entire box of peanut butter cookies. When her mother got home, Misty told her what had happened, what her teacher had said, and her mother, instead of putting the groceries away, set them on the countertop and seated herself at the table with her daughter, one hand on her back.

"What you have," she told Misty, "is a gift. An ability to give a voice to the voiceless. To those who might otherwise not be listened to. It isn't a bad thing. Nothing about you ever could be. Use this skill to the best of your ability, because one day...one day it'll pay off in spades."

And from that moment on, Misty felt no shame in what she was capable of doing. She churned out ghostbook after ghostbook, wrote article after article - all dry and factual without ever requiring a voice of her own - and all to great success. That's what Misty saw in Natasha, above all else, as she spent time around her. The same kind of woman, raising Violet, that she had as her own mother. That night, after getting home, Misty called her mom up and told her about her latest success, and when she told her she was finally going to take some time off to work on her own projects, get her own original fictin published, all her mother had to say was

"You do whatever you feel is best for you."

Because, again, like Natasha, her mother was nothing if not a proponant of listening to your heart, and not the intents of others. If only everyone could be so lucky as to grow up with that.

"Mom, please, open the door!" Corrine shouted.

She was standing on the front porch, banging on the door, sobbing. A few hours earlier, her ex-girlfriends mother had called her parents, and told them their daughter was queer. Now Corrine was standing on the steps of her childhood home, begging her parents to speak to her, but to no avail. Nobody answered the door. Nobody even opened a window to yell out of. Corrine finally stopped and sat on the porch swing, hugging herself, trying not to hyperventilate. You see, she thought, this is what you get when you aren't perfect. She eventually buried her face in her hands and bit her lip hard, thinking back across her life, how hard she'd tried to be the daughter they so clearly wanted. To be the heterosexual, successful, not mentally ill daughter they craved, like the ones their friends had. But try as she might, she couldn't be any of those things.

And now she had no parents.

When Corrine started living in the editing room at the studio, before being discovered by Jay and Sharla and moving into Natasha's, she thought about how much she hated herself, and how much she loved her parents, even in the face of their out and out denial of her personhood. How could she still love them after the way they looked at her? After disowning her outright in front of the neighbors she'd grown up around? How could she still possibly want to be able to connect with them and want their support and understanding? Because the world, she realized, without parents, was extremely small and cold. It was somewhere she didn't want to be. She would lay on the little nest she'd created for herself, she would hug her stuffed animal tightly to her chest, and she would think about what she had lost, instead of all that she had gained. Because the thing about this sort of rejection is that one rarely entertains the idea of what they actually have now as opposed to what they've lost. Sure, Corrine had lost her parents. She'd lost her ability to continue to go to college. She'd lost the only girl she'd ever loved. But she'd gained freedom. She'd gained her identity. She'd gained people who loved her, even in spite of her faults and her flaws, people like Natasha, who, in her own way, knew what it was like to not live up to a parents ideals.

And then Corrine moved in. She took up the spare room in Nat's house, she became friends with Violet, who in turn turned to her in a time of questioning her own sexuality, which was truly a sign of trust, and she was a crucial element to Nat's success thanks to her editing skills and her ability to work under tremendous pressure. Corrine and Nat became best friends, and Corrine finally started to see the things she'd gained instead of the things she'd lost. She'd gained a family. She'd gained the respect of people older than her, and her peers, and an audience who constantly commented, in addition to how great the episode was, how great the editing was. Corrine finally started to see and accept the good things she had, the good ways people saw her.

And then she slept with Nat's sister, and all she could see again was what she'd lost.

                                                                                                        ***


"It's a girls night out," Sharla said, "ya know, to, kinda, alleviate ourselves of all the stress and drama of recent times."

"You two are old, you're not girls, you're women," Corrine said, laying on the couch, her statement making Nat crack up as Sharla took a drink from her squirt bottle and put a hand on her hip, looking at Corrine; Corrine continued, her fingers interweaving her cats cradle, "in fact, I'm the only one in this room who probably qualifies as a girl right now."

"I don't know, Sharla, I have a lot to do," Nat said, sitting upright, putting her pen down on the table amongst all the papers, "I have to find a new camera man, I have to pay some bills, I have to do some refinancing in general. I just don't know that I have the time or energy to focus on something like that."

"Okay, it's attitudes like that that makes us seem old to people like Corrine," Sharla said.

"Actually it's your age, but okay," Corrine said, making Nat laugh once again, which made Corrine smile. She appreciated the fact that Natasha found her so very funny.

"We are going on a girls night out, okay? That's final," Sharla said, "so get your best goddamn outfit together, get gussied up, and when I get back here after work, y'all better be ready for a night on the town."

"Gussied?" Nat asked, looking up.

"Y'all?" Corrine asked, also looking over, "...are you from Texas?"

Sharla stared at them, then exited the house. Corrine went back to her cats cradle, Nat to her paperwork. They sat there in silence together for a while. Corrine appreciated this about Natasha. She didn't require constant interaction, she didn't demand ongoing discussion, they could simply occupy the same space without doing anything together. There was a level of respect and comfort you had to have around someone before you could achieve that kind of presence amongst others. After a bit, Nat put her pen back down and sighed, scratching her nose.

"What am I gonna tell Jay?" she asked.

"About hiring a new camera guy? I mean, why are you doing it?" Corrine asked.

"Because, good as he is at his job," Nat said, "I want to move him up. He's a founder, and he shouldn't be relegated to simply doing production. He should be doing something far more important. Not that production isn't important, I'm sorry, you're an editor, everything you production people do is the most important cause otherwise we wouldn't have a show, but you know what I mean."

"Do I?" Corrine asked, "wait, am I important? I've never felt important before. Is this what true power tastes like?"

Nat smirked and leaned back on the couch.

"Are you okay?" Nat asked, and Corrine shrugged.

"Why wouldn't I be?" she replied.

"Well, things have been...fucking weird lately, for one. I just...we haven't really talked a lot about what's happened, outside of that brief car ride. I just wanted to check in with you and make sure that you're doing okay."

Corrine sat up and put her cats cradle down, then looked at Nat.

"You don't have to always be doing your show," Corrine said sternly, surprising Nat with her tone of voice, "I'm going to find an outfit for tonight, even if I don't necessarily know the definition of 'gussied'."

                                                                                                           ***

Courtney was at her physical therapy, trying to get back to walking easily after her surgery. This was one of the things she hadn't anticipated being an issue, but apparently it is. Makes sense, she thought, given that the surgery had taken place between her legs. Still, it frustrated her having to rely on her dad for everything now, or her at home nurse. She missed being independent. As she gripped the metal bars on both sides of her, doing her best to stay steady and focused, she heard the door to the room open and looked up, spotting Violet entering, and she smiled. Violet walked alongside the bars as she continued working.

"How, um, how long do you, ya know, think you might have to go?" Violet asked.

"I really couldn't tell ya," Courtney said, "but I will say this, when I'm done, I'll be really happy cause this is exhausting."

Violet laughed as Courtney reached the end of the bars, turned around, and started to head back, Violet keeping up pace with her. Violet had come here not to just to check up on her, but also for another, very important reason. After coming out to her mother, she figured the next step was to finally be direct with Courtney. Up to this point, things had been said, but those have been vague at best. Violet wanted concrete answers. She wanted to know where it all stood, even if it meant their friendship was in danger.

"When will you, um, uh, yeah, have a break?" Violet asked.

"As soon as I reach the other end again," Courtney said, "I have to do this about 5 times in a row, so."

"When you're done, can we, uh, can we, ya know, maybe go for a walk?" Violet asked, and Courtney stopped and stared at her, as Violet laughed and said, "okay, maybe bad question, but I could, um, push you in a wheelchair."

Courtney laughed and nodded.

"That sounds good," she said, "I could stand to get out of this room for a while."

After Courtney finished her physical therapy for the day, Violet got her wheelchair and helped her into it. Then, gripping the handles tightly, she started to push it through the halls of the hospital. It was a very nice hospital, thanks to the money put forward by both Courtney's father and Natasha. For a while the girls just sort of wandered aimlessly, but after a bit, Courtney told Violet to take a right at a certain area, and suddenly they were in the childrens wing. On the walls were all sorts of arts and crafts kids had made during their stay at the hospital.

"I like coming here," Courtney said, "it's nice to see kids still be creative even in the face of terror. Nothing is scarier than being a child in a hospital. You haven't been alive long enough to grasp the concept of death, so the whole situation feels so foreign to you, and you don't know how to deal with it."

"Speaking from, uh, experience?" Violet asked as they stopped at a spot full of watercolors plastered on the wall.

"Kind of," Courtney said, "heck, being my age and being in the hospital is scary, and I understand the concept of death perfectly."

"Can we talk?" Violet asked, and Courtney looked up over her shoulder at Violet. Courtney sighed.

"I knew we'd have to eventually," she whispered.

Violet didn't like that tone.

                                                                                                    ***

"I cannot believe for the life of me that you own a rhinestone encrusted cowboy hat," Natasha said.

She, Corrine and Sharla were sitting in a booth at a bar, eating cheese sticks and other various bar snacks and drinking anything other than alcohol. Each woman had their reason for abstaining from imbibing the substance, but that didn't mean they couldn't have fun.

"It really does make me wonder even more if you're actually from Texas," Corrine said.

"I like cute clothing," Sharla said, "what can I say? I like stuff with glitter and sparkles and gems and if that makes me a cliche, then dammit I'll be a cliche."

"Yeehaw, pard'ner," Corrine said, raising her glass to Sharla, making them both laugh. Sharla finished her drink and slammed her mug on the table, exhaling.

"Now if you'll excuse me," Sharla said, "I'm going to go dance for a few minutes, because there's some really cute guys here and it ain't a girls night out if you don't try to flirt."

With that, Sharla slipped out of the booth and left for the nearby dance floor, leaving just Corrine and Natasha behind now. Corrine slunk down further into the booth seat while Nat continued to eat her wings, tossing the bones back into the little plastic basket as she finished them. Corrine casually sipped her soda from her mug little by little, trying not to be noticed by anyone or anything.

"I'm surprised you wanted to do this," Nat finally said, chewing, as she added, "after all, you're not the type who strikes me as a girls night out sort of lady. Or a night out sort of lady at all, really. You really come off as a hermit, more than anything, and I mean that with the kindest inflection."

"I'm my mother," Corrine finally said, causing Nat to look at her, confused.

"Elaborate?" she asked.

"When I was in middle school, my mom had an affair with the science teacher, Mr. Dukes," Corrine said, "and everyone called her a homewrecker, even though, really, my home didn't change at all. Mr. Dukes home did, of course, his wife divorced him, there was an ugly custody battle, and it was all very public, and all the other teachers at school constantly talked about how that 'homewrecker' had ruined his life, as if partaking in it wasn't his choice. Somehow the men never get blamed. Somehow their infidelity is infallible, forgivable, expected. Now I've done the same thing, and the saddest part is my mother won't even speak to me, so I have to be like her without getting the chance to speak to her."

Natasha finished her wings and pushed the basket to the edge of the table, indicating to a waitress to remove it. She picked up her mug and took a long drink, then wiped her hands on a napkin.

"She won't speak to you?" Nat asked.

"I begged them to speak to me," Corrine whispered, sniffling, "after getting outed, I went home, and I begged them to speak to me, but they wouldn't even answer the door. They wouldn't answer my phone calls. Nothing. Apparently forgiving your wife for sleeping with another man is easy, but forgiving your child for being queer? That's outright impossible."

Sharla plopped herself back into the booth, looking disappointed.

"Back so soon?" Nat asked.

"You know, dancing would be a lot more fun if men didn't take it as a direct invitation to invade your personal space," Sharla said, "what're you girls talkin' about?"

"Corrine thinks she's a homewrecker," Nat said.

"What? Why? Just cause you slept with Nat's sister and ruined her marriage? Honey, any relationship that can be ended by someone new coming along wasn't very strong to begin with," Sharla said, causing Corrine to look towards her, listening; Sharla shook her head, "take it from me. My sister, god love her, she dated this guy for like seven years, and the entire time he was sleeping with other women. A relationship has to be strong from the outset, I mean, sure it can be built and worked upon, strengthened over time, but I think you have to really genuinely love a person right from the get go to avoid those kind of pitfalls. Also, from what I've been told, your situation is vastly different. That poor girl, she didn't know what she wanted. She didn't even know who she was, really."

"It's true," Natasha said, "and, frankly, the fact I somehow missed all the signs of her being queer is shocking to me. But I suppose she was just that good at hiding them, surpressing them, even if so unintentionally. Like me, I think she didn't wanna let our parents down, just like you, sweetheart. You've done nothing wrong. You're not a homewrecker, and most importantly, you're not your mother."

Corrine wiped her nose on her sleeve and sniffled some more, her voice cracking.

"If I'd done something terrible," she said, "if I'd killed someone, even accidentally, or I'd caused some kind of awful event or I'd committed some kind of crime, even if non violent, all these things I would understand them holding against me. But all I did was love somebody. Why is that enough to hate me?"

Sharla pulled Corrine into her and stroked her hair, letting her cry against her. Natasha picked up her drink and took another long gulp. She wanted to help Corrine, but frankly, she hadn't even expected her own daughter to come out, let alone be aware of her sisters sexuality. She just figured she'd stick the course, be there when they needed her, and be supportive until that time came.

"Let me ask you a question," Sharla said softly, "are you happy when you're with her?"

Corrine nodded.

"Like truly happy?"

"Happier than I think I've ever been," Corrine said, causing Natasha to smile, knowing someone loved her sister that much.

"And she's happy when she's with you, yeah?" Sharla asked, and Corrine nodded again.

"She says she adores me," Corrine replied, making Nat smile even wider.

"Then honey, what's the goddamned problem. You've got what everyone wants," Sharla said, "fuck your parents."

Corrine laughed a little, and just stayed being held for a bit longer. Sharla was right. She so badly wanted them to love her, to approve of her, hell, to even speak to her, but she knew that was just something that was never going to happen. And really why should she care about people expected to love her who were so willing to leave her just because she found happiness? Sharla was right. Fuck her parents.

                                                                                                            ***

Violet and Courtney were still in that empty hall of the childrens wing, Violet now sitting on a bench, facing Courtney in her wheelchair. Violets eyes, however, were cast to the floor, scared to look up. A few nurses walked by, and after they passed, Courtney sighed and spoke.

"It was just...a lot to deal with at the same time, my surgery and then what you felt," Courtney said, "and I'm sorry if I reacted less than ideally. But there's something else you have to understand, and that's that, for girls like me, of which there is a distinction regardless of whether or not I want to admit it, one of the defining traits for womanhood as seen by society for our legitimacy is heterosexuality."

Violet nodded, but she didn't move. Courtney continued.

"That boy I dated, that lifeguard, I mean it didn't last because we're just teenagers but...I realized partway through that that what I was doing was simply playing into the role that society expected me to. In order to be seen as what they consider a girl, I had to date who they considered to be acceptable. That would be boys. It isn't fair, because so many other girls our age just get to be themselves. I mean, that isn't to say they don't face ridicule or injustice or whatever, but their sexuality isn't called into question as fevervently as mine would be, because to these people, if I liked girls, that would indicate to them I was still a boy, which is ridiculous."

Violet nodded again, and Courtney sighed.

"So I did what I did because I was scared. I was already an outcast, you know? People already hated me for being who I am, and to add queerness on top of that? Oh my god, that would be just giving them double ammunition. But the thing is, who I am is already a revolt against their preconceived ideals about identity, so why be afraid to be something else they hate when I'm already something they hate? Why live in that fear if I've already broken through the first barrier? It's stupid, right? It's totally stupid."

Courtney rolled her wheelchair towards the bench, stopping in front of Violet and reaching out, taking her chin in her hand and lifting her face up until they were eye to eye.

"And then there's you," Courtney said, "someone with a learning disability, someone else society sees as 'other', who people claim to be slower than the rest of them, and yet you've been nothing but supportive the entire time, nothing but understanding, so really, if anything, you're far more intelligent than them. You accepted me right out, stood by me, defended me, came to see me after surgery, and now here you are, telling me that, for a while, you've had feelings for me. I'd be dumb not to reciprocate and not because of being expected to but because I feel the same way you do."

That made Violet's eyes widen, her breath quicken. Courtney smiled, blinking at her, her lashes wet with tears.

"I don't really know where this will go," Courtney whispered, shrugging, "but...much like my transition, I'm excited to find out."

With that, Courtney leaned in and kissed Violet on the lips, taking Violet completely by surprise. This hadn't been what she'd expected, even though it'd been what she'd hoped for. Violet simply shut her eyes and kissed Courtney back. If there was one thing Violet had learned throughout her life with her mother, it was that you had to grab your love where you could find it, and to hell with whoever questioned your choices.

"Maybe this was a mistake," Nat said, sitting on the trunk of her car, Stephen sitting next to her.

"The show today or?"

"Everything. Us. My career. All of it," she replied, "maybe it was all a mistake. Having Violet wasn't a mistake, she's the best thing I've ever done, but the rest of it...maybe I'm the mistake, I don't know. I just know that, each time I try to make something better, I somehow make it worse. I'm so tired of being a screwup for the whole world to see. I want my mistakes to be private, not public, but this is the life I've chosen and I don't know how to get out of it."

"...are you saying what I think you're saying?" Stephen asked, and Nat shrugged.

"I just don't know that I can do this anymore," she whispered, near tears, wiping her nose on her sweatshirt sleeve, "or that I want to."

A huge admission coming from the woman who had once said she wanted to save everyone, but Stephen was proud of her. She'd admitted that she was no longer happy in what she was attempting, and that proved so much strength to him. He just wish she could see it too. It broke his heart that she couldn't fathom how strong she actually was, that she constantly saw herself as weak or less, despite all the good she did. She laid back on the trunk, and he joined her, and they looked up at the sky.

"What would you do otherwise?" Stephen asked.

Nat didn't answer for a few minutes. The sound of other cars driving by overtook their silence as the early evening streetlights began to flicker awake.

"...be happy," Nat finally said, and Stephen nodded.

"Not a bad choice," he said.

                                                                                                           ***

The whole thing could be traced back to Sharla, really, it had all been her fault, because it had all been her idea. And she'd said it all so casually, almost in passing. "Take your family on the show!" she'd exclaimed, explaining that, contextually, this might help not only the audience understand her better, but also those who are going through the same thing might understand themselves and their situation more too. The problem was...the last time Nat had put Violet in the limelight, it had caused undue duress to her, and now she was scared of any public recognition, understandably. Stephen, on the other hand, was far more receptive to the concept. But then again, why wouldn't he be? He was going through extreme upset, and anything he could do to avoid focusing on his feelings regarding the situation would be ideal. Going on the show might provide him a window into nostalgia, a way to feel like he was back in time, and they were all still technically a family.

"I don't know," Nat said as she drank her coffee, Sharla sitting at her kitchen table eating a package of trail mix; Nat shook her head and continued, "what if it goes sideways? I'm kind of sick of putting the people I love on constant public blast. It isn't fair to them."

"But you can show that if people just sit down and talk to one another, then maybe there's a good chance things can actually be resolved in a healthy manner, rather than simply ignoring the problems like most families tend to do. I know that, growing up, my parents opted to just...not talk about stuff. That eventually grew into resentment, which eventually led to divorce."

"I know, and you're not wrong, but I just...I almost lost my daughter before because of this kind of stuff, and I don't want to run that risk again," Nat said.

"Then don't take her. Take Stephen," Sharla said, "make it a show about amicably managing a relationship with an ex spouse. Lots of people could use that too, and I'm sure he would appreciate it."

"Yeah but then I'm just doing unpaid labor for a man who's no longer in my life, a man who left me for my own sister, by the way," Nat said, "Given how the audience thinks of him based on my former phrasings, they probably aren't the biggest fans of the guy."

"Well, give them a chance to be," Sharla said, smiling, popping some pretzels in her mouth as someone knocked on Nat's side door to the kitchen. Nat walked over and opened it, finding Misty standing there. Misty stepped past her and into the kitchen, waving politely at Sharla, before turning to face Nat.

"I think I'm about done," Misty said.

"Oh god, what's happened?" Nat asked, sounding concerned, "are you okay? Should we take you to see someone?"

A moment passed as Misty looked between Sharla and Nat, confused.

"I think I'm about done with your book," Misty said, and Nat laughed; Misty shook her head and continued, "editing is almost finished, I compiled everything, and it looks like it should be on the shelves any day now, really."

"That was fast," Sharla said.

"Well, these kinds of works don't really take much time," Misty said, glancing from her back to Nat before adding, "no offense but they aren't exactly the most sought after literary items. They're generally just an easy way for a publisher to make a quick buck, more than anything else. That being said, I take pride, care and consideration into what I do, and so I think I did a good job, and I hope you'll agree when you see it."

"I don't have to buy my own copy, do I?" Nat asked, and Misty shook her head.

Truth be told, Misty was actually scared of Nat's reception to the book. She had taken all these notes, spent all this time with her, and then, instead of utilizing any of that, she opted to throw it all out in favor of something she felt far more accurate to who Nat was as a person. Whether or not Nat would appreciate or understand it remained to be seen, but for the next week and a half, Misty would feel nervous as hell.

Which, at least, was something she was used to.

                                                                                                         ***

"I don't think I made you out to be the bad guy intentionally," Nat said, "I don't think I went into doing the show after you left thinking 'I need to make sure everyone knows what a douchebag this guy is', because I was mad, and when you're mad you don't think clearly. You don't make logical decisions. So perhaps I tainted your reputation unintentionally, but hopefully today fixed some of that."

"It isn't your job to fix others perception of me, even if you were the one who altered it. Clearly I got what I deserved, because look at how I acted. I was supposed to be an adult, and instead of talking about anything, I just had an emotional affair that turned physical. That...that isn't mature, Nat, you weren't totally wrong in feeling the way you did. But it's admirable of you to wanna undo that damage."

Nat put her arms behind her head and kept watching the clouds, smiling to herself.

"This is how we used to spend our time, remember?" she asked, "when we first started dating, we would go out for these long drives and we would just talk and watch the skies. You claimed we were hunting for UFOs, which, honestly, would've been way cool if it'd come true. How do you go from such simplicity to such complexity in just a handful of years?"

"By not talking," Stephen said, "weren't you listening to what I just said?"

"I'm sorry are you speaking?" Nat asked, grinning, the both of them laughing.

"Seriously though, if you aren't open about your problems, especially with the person you have those problems with, then how the hell do you expect to ever fix anything? Here I was, taking my issues to your sister, and okay, it was your sister, not some random woman, so maybe societally turning to a family member of sorts was more acceptable, but still. It's awful. What I did was awful."

"I brought you on today because of Sharla, god I hate her sometimes," Nat said, "Sharla made this whole impassioned speech about, like, being able to show others that you can move past your issues with an ex-spouse and have a healthy relationship and not blame yourself blah blah blah, but I don't think she really knew what she was talking about. I mean, sure, her sentiment is good, and her heart's in the right place, but, ya know...she wasn't the one who went through it. I think to make that kind of leap in faith you need to have experienced it first hand."

A car pulled into the lot and parked. A woman and her two kids got out and walked on by, Stephen and Nat watching for a bit until they were out of sight. Seeing this womans two daughters, Nat's thoughts turned back to Violet. Her coming out recently, her feelings of inadequacy in the face of public recognition. Nat grimaced and felt her eyes water.

"I ruined our daughters life," she whispered, "I ruined her adolescence."

"Hey, no, come on," Stephen said, leaning on his elbows and looking over at her, "you didn't...Nat, don't say that."

"But I did," she continued, "and unlike you there's no damage control to be done, there's no getting back what we had."

                                                                                                          ***

Corrine woke up and was surprised to find the bed empty. She had rolled onto her side, her fingers reaching out for Ashley's skin, but instead finding cold sheets. Corrine sat up and pushed her tussled hair from her face, then got out of bed and tugged on a tank top she'd slung over a nearby chair and some jogging shorts. She exited and walked down the hall, hearing the TV on in one direction. When she arrived in the living room, however, Ashley wasn't there. Then Corrine heard the sound of something being shuffled about in the garage, so she headed in that direction. She pulled open the door to find Ashley standing in the garage, looking through dozens of open cardboard boxes, frantically breathing.

"...are...are you okay?" Corrine asked as she entered, causing Ashley to look up.

"I'm sorry," Ashley said, wiping at her face, "I didn't wake you up did I?"

"No, I woke up and you weren't there, and that made me nervous enough to get up and check what was going on, but...what is going on?"

Ashley stopped, sitting crouched on her knees on the hard garage floor, shaking her head and picking at her hair.

"I'm the bad guy," she said, "this whole time, I'm the villain. I was sick. I needed comfort. But I did something so wrong. I'm the bad guy. She...she took Stephen on her show this morning, and they talked about their relationship, their split, me, everything. None of it was negative, it was all very 'be what it may' but...but it made me realize, hearing it all laid out like that in post chronological order that, yeah, I'm the bad guy of this story."

Corrine walked further in and pulled a little stepladder across the floor, stopping in front of Ashley and reaching out, taking her face in her hands, causing her to look up at her.

"...you're not the bad guy, there is no bad guy. You're only the villain if you set out with bad intentions. A villain has to WANT to do something to hurt others, right? You didn't do that. All of you were in pain and nobody knew how to handle it."

"And then," Ashley continued, still crying, breathing hard, "and then, as if what I did once wasn't bad enough, I did it AGAIN. I turned to you from him."

Corrine's eyes widened, and her stomach dropped.

"Do you...do you regret that?" she whispered, sounding hurt.

"Oh, no no no, god, no, I'm sorry, that sounded so wrong. I regret hurting my sister, taking her husband from her, but I...I could never regret what you and I have done. What we have. The difference between the two situations couldn't be more clear, Corrine, I mean...when Stephen and I got together, it was because he was upset with his marriage and I was sick, or we thought I was anyway. I was scared and in need of reassurance. But you and I...we're together because I knew what I actually wanted. Because I'd time to come to terms with who I was, and...and there's no regretting that."

Ashley reached up and touched Corrine's cheek, making her blush. Ashley then leaned up on her knees and pushed her lips against Corrine's, kissing her, with Corrine happily kissing her back. After the kiss ended, Ashley looked back towards the box and sighed.

"What are you even looking for?" Corrine asked, and Ashley shook her head.

"...when I was a little girl, I had this stuffed horse, because horses were my favorite animal. I know, what a cliche. I've held onto him forever, but I...I don't know, I felt weird about having him so close when I was with a male partner, I thought maybe they'd think I was childish or something - which, sadly, isn't a turn off to a lot of them - so I packed him away. I'm looking for him now, because I don't feel that shame anymore. Not with you."

Ashley looked back from the box to Corrine and smiled.

"I'm not very good at feelings," Corrine said, "understanding them, or whatever, but that's only when it comes to my own. I think I can understand others, or at the very least moreso than I used to be able to. But you won't be judged by me, no. Not for that. Not for anything, really. I'll help you look."

Corrine climbed off the stepladder and onto the floor, opening up another nearby box, and as she dug, Ashley couldn't help but smile and wipe the tears from her face, feeling more genuinely loved than she ever had. This woman, without question, came looking for her to make sure she was okay, reassured that things would be alright and she wasn't bad, and then offered to help her find what she was looking for without a second thought. Ashley had run away from her sexuality for so long, but right now, god damn it felt good to be queer.

                                                                                                        ***

"This is all your fault, really," Nat said.

She and Sharla had gotten together that evening, after both were done with work and after Stephen had gone back to his hotel. Sitting in the booth of a local pub, ordering cheese fries and drinking soda - something Sharla insisted on because, while she maintained a healthy diet, she also mainted the belief that alcohol was far worse - Nat couldn't help but lay the blame for today on her.

"I mean, you're the one who suggested I do it, and for what? I mean, okay, sure, we really talked through some things, and maybe that was good, but we could've done that in private, why do it on the show? Why must every facet of my life be available for public consumption just because I have a public access series?"

Sharla picked up another cheese fry and bit into it. She chewed for a bit, then took a long drink from her mug and burped.

"I'm not trying to make you feel bad, by the way," Nat said, chuckling, "I just needed someone to take the blame, and since you're the one who suggested it, I figured you'd be the best bet. But I do think that, maybe, if you'd gone through something similar, you'd understand that you can't just put stuff out there for others to see and hope they get it, you know? If it helps them with their own situations, that's one thing, but I'm not looking for pity."

"Did I ever tell you I used to be married?" Sharla asked, causing Nat to stop speaking. Nat shook her head, staying quiet as Sharla continued, "Got married to my first boyfriend in college. We were that couple, you know, the one everyone admired and aimed to be. We shared a lot of interests, particularly in health, that's why we got along so well. Used to go for hikes, used to swim together for sport, all that stuff. And then, when I started doing what I do for a living, taking it seriously and really getting into shape, mostly for myself because, let's face it, I'm a shallow creature and I only feel good if I look good, uh...he got so weirdly jealous. I think it's because society puts higher value on attractive women then men, and so he...he didn't know how to handle the attention I started receiving, attention that, for the record, I never once responded to. He was still the only man I wanted."

"Men are so fucking insecure," Nat said, making Sharla smirk and nod.

"Sometimes," she said, "but that often isn't their fault. Once again, society makes them feel that way. The good ones are the ones who recognize their worth is in what they bring to other peoples lives, not what they get out of other peoples lives. And I don't mean that in a sort of, uh...dependable way, you know? That you have to provide, be a big strong man, rawr, all that nonsense. I mean, just, their presence, you know? Just being there is enough. Those are the ones who are good. He couldn't see that. He couldn't fathom it. He thought everything was transactional. The better I got, the worse he became. It was like a fucked up emotional pendulum."

Sharla took another fry and ate it, sniffling. She started to breath a little harder, and Nat could tell she was trying not to cry.

"...and then he started to hit me," Sharla said, without any warning, taking Nat by total surprise; she continued, "and when I say hit me, I don't mean just, like, a slap here and there. That...that would've been manageable comparatively, even if it was still wrong. No I mean...I would..."

She stopped and took a breath, shaking. Nat reached out and put a hand on Sharla's back, rubbing gently.

"I would come back from something, the gym or a run or whatever," Sharla said, "and he would see me feeling good, and he would think 'I have to make her feel bad', and he would. He would grab my hair and throw me into a wall, he would pin me there, and he would scream at me. There were times I hid in the closet for hours just to avoid being beaten. It was like, if he couldn't feel good, neither could I."

"Jesus christ, Sharla," Nat muttered, "how did you..."

"Thankfully, my mother, who had been a victim of domestic abuse in her first marriage before she had me, she was amazing in helping. Offered to let me move in without even discussing it, sent my dad to get my things so I didn't have to see him again. We thought about pursuing criminal charges, but honestly, at the end of the day...I just wanted to be over with it. I know that by not doing that, I was just giving him the go ahead to continue treating other women that way, but...I just needed to move on. So, when I tell you that maybe you should attempt to show people that their relationships with their exes can be amicable, maybe it's because I wish mine fucking could've been."

Sharla started sobbing, and Nat pulled her into her body, hugging her tight in the booth. She had no idea Sharla had ever been through anything like that. In a way, she figured, she and Sharla were exactly the same. Utilizing their own issues to try and help others. If one thing could be said about Stephen, it's that at least he never laid a hand on her, and it was sad that the bar was that fucking low.

"That's perhaps the single most delicious cup of irony I've ever tasted," Sharla said.

She, Nat and Misty were sitting in Nat's kitchen. Jay was busy running production errands, Violet was at school, and Corrine...who knew where Corrine was. Likely hiding out of embarrassment, despite being told repeatedly she had no reason to be embarrassed. Nat nodded as she poured herself some more coffee and sat back down at the table.

"Yeah, it was...pretty incredible, how circular the whole thing became," she said, raising her cup and taking a short sip, "I mean, think about it, he cheats on me with my own sister, I become so distraught my show goes off the rails so I leave the channel to pursue my own run program, thus hiring a queer editor who then gets my sister to cheat on the man who left me for her. Wild. And the worst part is Corrine blames herself. She really shouldn't. If anything, she's a hero to me right now. I mean, there's so much I could do to get back at Stephen for what he did, but even then I didn't wanna follow through with any of it. But she did the one thing more painful than anything else I could've ever conjured up, and I wanna thank her repeatedly for it."

"You don't find any of this...upsetting?" Misty asked, and the girls looked at her; she sighed, set her cup down and continued, saying, "I mean, sure, the irony of it all is very humorous, one cannot deny that, but this is a man you loved once, and now he's been hurt in the same way he hurt you. Don't you feel even the slightest bit of sympathy towards him in that regard?"

"I do," Nat said, "and it wasn't like his infidelity came out of the blue. Things hadn't been good between us for a while. I don't blame him for leaving. I'm not saying I wasn't upset or mad, but I understood. What irked me most of all, however, was leaving me for my sister. That's what makes this so perfect to me."

Misty nodded, jotted something down in her notepad and continued drinking. Sharla popped a few vitamins and shook her head.

"So what happens now?" she asked, "I mean, let's face it, things aren't gonna stay the way they were."

"No, they won't," Nat said, "but the nice thing about being divorced is, guess what, his problems aren't mine to solve anymore."

Just then a knock at the front door came through loud and clear, and they heard Stephen calling out for Nat. Nat sighed and rubbed her face with her palms.

"Son of a bitch," she muttered.

                                                                                                       ***

Noreen and Violet were sitting in the garden in the back of Noreen's parents house, on the porch in the shade. Violet needed to talk to someone, but she couldn't go back to Corrine, they weren't exactly family, and she couldn't go to her mother, not yet anyway. She couldn't go to her aunt, because something was clearly happening and her aunt wasn't available. So Violet turned to the one woman in her family she related to above all else, her aunt Noreen. Sitting there at the small, wooden table, sharing a package of cookies, Violet still couldn't help but feel weird for even attempting to broach this subject with someone related to her. It felt so personal, how could she ever hope to discuss it?

"You're awful quiet," Noreen finally said, and Violet looked up from her lap, chewing.

"I'm sorry," Violet said softly, "I'm, um...well, I...I'm uh I'm having a problem. It's all I can think about."

"I figured as much, and that's why I'm glad you came to see me," Noreen replied, smiling warmly, "if anyone will understand you, it's gonna be me. You certainly do seem distracted. You know you can talk to me about anything without judgement."

Violet nodded, and thought back to that night in Courtney's room. Courtney had said it was obvious, that it was okay, but nothing had happened after that or since. What exactly had it meant, really? She didn't know, and thusly, she didn't know how to broach the topic to discuss it with someone. Hell, simply asking Corrine about things had been awkward enough, and that had been vague as hell.

"I don't understand what's happening," Violet finally said, "everything, um, feels so weird. Not just at home. That's weird too, but, ya know, with me. With this friend of mine. I've never understood how people, ya know, uh, feel things or other people. I know I love my mom, but that's cause, like, she's my mom. That isn't weird to me. But to, um, to, ya know, love someone else...that's weird to me."

"...are you in love with someone?" Noreen asked, grinning, making Violet blush.

"...yeah," Violet said softly, "I guess I am."

                                                                                                              ***

"What are you even doing here?" Nat asked, as she and Stephen entered the living room. Stephen looked...bad. He looked like...well...how Nat had looked for a few months after he'd left her. He hadn't shaven, his clothes were rumpled as if he'd been sleeping in them, he looked disheveled to hell and back. Nat stopped by a bookshelf and turned to face him, as Stephen plopped himself down on the couch.

"I don't know," Stephen said in such a weak voice, "I don't know what I'm doing here. I don't know how to handle this. How did you handle it?"

"Are you seriously asking me to tell you how I dealt with you leaving me for my sister?" Nat replied, her eyes wide, almost grinning, "seriously? Look, I don't wanna take glee in what's happening, but...it's karmic retribution if I've ever seen it and, ya know, from an ex-wife perspective, regardless of the beliefs I claim to hold true, it tickles me."

"That's fair," Stephen said, flopping onto his back and putting a hand on his forehead, sighing before adding, "I just...I can't believe this. Am I the problem? Was I the problem the whole time? Were my issues with you, the things between us, not that bad and I just blew them out of proportion? Cause I thought Ashley and I were great. Mostly, with you and I, it was work work work. And I don't mean the relationship was a lot of work, I mean work was the problem because it was all you did. It took over your life."

"You knew when you married me what I wanted to do," Nat said, folding her arms, then sighing and adding, "course, I suppose I could've made some kind of sacrifices, made more time for my family, sure. It isn't good to be working all the time."

"No but that's the thing, you...you shouldn't have to sacrifice what you love to do for others," Stephen said, surprising her as he continued, "you have a calling, a way to help people, and someone wanting to spend time with you shouldn't be enough to endanger that. I've come to realize I was being somewhat selfish in that regard. Some people can handle that in a relationship, and I'm just not one of those kinds of people. Ashley just...fit what I needed better. But then THAT makes me sound bad cause it sounds like I was just looking for a cookie cutter woman who could slot perfectly into my life without respecting her as a person."

Stephen looked over at Nat, his eyes wet.

"Am I just a bad man?" he asked, his voice shaky, "I always...I always thought I was pretty good. I respect women, I...I support their rights. Yet here I am, same as any worse man, just looking for the right kind of girl to fit MY lifestyle without taking into account the person she is. I don't wanna be like that."

This was something Nat had never expected Stephen to say, because she herself had never thought about it. She walked over and sat down on the footrest by the couch, putting a hand on his leg.

"I'm done doing emotional labor for the men I'm in relationships with, but the good thing is, we're not in a relationship anymore, you're just my friend now, so I don't mind helping you," Nat said, "no, you're not a bad man, Stephen. But I think acknowledging these faults is a good place for you to start working on them. And frankly, I think most people are like that. They want someone who fits with them. They often don't think about who that person is, as a person, so long as they fit their preconcieved lifestyle. But yeah, if you're gonna love someone, you have to love the parts of them that aren't parts you like, and accept that's who they are, unless of course those parts are actively hurting others, like out of control drinking, that's a whole different story then."

Stephen smirked and wiped his face with his palms before exhaling deeply.

"How is Ashley handling this, by the way?" Nat asked.

"The hell should I know," Stephen said, "I've been way too wrapped up in how I'm doing to care about others."

"Okay now that makes you a bad man," Nat replied, the both of them laughing. Even with all their history, she couldn't be mad at him. She just had an innate need to help those around her, even the ones who had hurt her unintentionally.

                                                                                                            ***

Corrine's wrists were pinned to the wall as Ashley kissed her, then down her jaw and to her neck, making her breath heavier and heavier. After a minute, Ashley pulled away and sat down on the end of the bed, crying again. Corrine sat down beside her and put a hand on her knee. It had been like this ever since they'd been discovered. Ashley would be fine one minute, and then absolutely wrecked the next, and Corrine understood, having gone through a breakup with someone she'd loved deeply.

"A few weeks ago," Ashley said, trying to speak through her labored breathing, "Stephen and I went to dinner. We always had these date nights twice a week, and this was the second of those for that week. We thought it kept it fresh, like we were still in the early stages of dating so we didn't get bored and complacent."

"What's so bad about complacency? Honestly, it just means you're comfortable," Corrine said, and Ashley smirked.

"Not gonna argue cause I agree," she replied, "but my point was that, at that dinner, afterwards we went for a walk near a river downtown. They have all these little shops and restaurants near it, and it's a very pretty place to be. While we were there, he started talking about the future, talking about, ya know, marriage and stuff like that. I entertained the idea simply to keep him distracted, but then he said he thought I was 'the one'. That...that threw me. That's when I knew I had to tell him sooner rather than later."

Corrine furrowed her brow and cocked her head to the side like a confused cocker spaniel.

"Wha...why...why would that throw you?" she asked, "do you not believe in the concept of 'the one'?" she asked.

"No, I do," Ashley said, looking at her and putting her hand on top of Corrine's on her knee, adding, "but it was because while I might've been his, you're mine."

Corrine felt like she'd been punched in the chest. Somehow, even after everything else, anytime Ashley said something remotely romantic towards her, it still caught her off guard. Corrine looked at her feet and nodded, thinking. After a minute or two, Corrine, still not looking at Ashley, spoke again.

"I never thought I'd be someone's 'the one', but I guess there's a first, and hopefully only, time for everything," Corrine said, "I've always been kinda afraid of someone loving me so deeply that they made me their entire world, not because it was weird but because I was scared I wouldn't live up to their ideals. Expectations frighten me. But...there doesn't seem to be any expectations with you, and that makes me feel safe."

"I want you to feel safe," Ashley said, running her hand up to Corrine's face and gently carressing her cheek with her thumb, "that's all I ever want. And, yeah, it might take a bit before I'm over the shock of everything that just happened and I apologize in advance for that and how it might make me act, but it isn't gonna change things between us. That much I can promise you. You're exactly who I've been looking."

"It doesn't bother you that I'm so much younger?" Corrine asked, "I mean, I'm still in college. Your sister has a teenage daughter."

"It really doesn't," Ashley said, "you're an adult, I'm an adult. I don't care so long as we make one another happy."

"I've never been happy until recently, I don't know how to handle it," Corrine said, making Ashley laugh.

"Well then," Ashley said, leaning in and kissing her on the neck, "allow me to be your guide to happiness."

                                                                                                               ***

When Violet got home that evening, she discovered that the house was empty except for her mother. Nat was in her bedroom, lying on the bed just reading a book when Violet came in. As soon as she entered, Nat put a marker in her book and set it down on the bedside table, as Violet climbed onto the bed and nuzzled up to her mother, who wrapped her arms tightly around her daughter and squeezed, kissing her on the forehead.

"How you doin', kiddo?" she asked.

"I have to tell you something," Violet said, "cause you're my mom, and my best friend, and I don't wanna hide things from you. You're always tell people to do what they think is best for them, and to believe in who they are, so I think you'll understand and accept me."

"I'll always accept you, sweetheart, what's going on?" Nat asked, and Violet exhaled deeply, then shut her eyes.

"I think I'm in love with Courtney," Violet said, "and it's scary cause I've never felt this way about anybody, and I didn't think I could, but she's my friend and she makes me feel safe and happy and understood. I just want to be with her. I was scared you might be mad at me, but that was dumb cause you're never mad at me, even when I do bad things like running to dads."

"First of all," Nat said, running her fingers through her daughters hair, "running to your dads wasn't a bad thing. You did what you had to at the time to protect yourself. I respect and understand that. Was I hurt? Tremendously. But I brought it upon myself. It's why, even with the fame we have now as a result of the livestream, I'm far more focused on my interpersonal relationships, and specifically, my relationship with you, because those are way more important. And secondly...I'm happy for you. I always liked Courtney, and I think the two of you are good for eachother. I don't care who you love, so long as they respect you."

Violet cuddled more into her mothers side and cried a little. She knew she would be accepted, that was obvious, but it still scared her to say it. Nat just shushed her softly and continued petting her. No matter how old she got, Violet would always be her little girl, and she could count on her mom for anything, especially emotional regulation.

"You know," Nat said, laughing, "if you ever need to talk to another family member who knows how you feel, I know just who you can speak to."

                                                                                                            ***

Corrine and Ashley, in post coitous afterglow, were laying under the sheets of the bed, staring up at the ceiling, holding hands. Corrine was absentmindedly chewing on her lip, while Ashley rested her eyes. Corrine rolled her head to the side to look at Ashley and then back up towards the ceiling.

"The girl I dated before you," Corrine said, "she used to send me these little glass animals. She would find them in Hawaii after moving there, and she would mail them back to me because they were affordable, both in purchase and in packaging. My favorite was the turtle, cause I guess, in a way, I always felt kinda like a turle. Sheltered. Hidden away."

"I could see that about you, yeah," Ashley said, nodding.

"But I don't think it was just the animal that I related to," Corrine continued, "but the glass. The fragility. I've always been fragile. So much more so than everyone else around me. Always about to go to pieces and shatter. So I guess, what I'm saying, is maybe don't break me. If I'm going to entrust you with my fragility, don't break me."

Ashley felt her heart hurt a bit, but she understood Corrine had clearly been through some shit, emotionally, and she didn't want to be one of the people who added to that, so she was going to her damndest not to. Instead, she simply squeezed her hand a little bit tighter.

"What kind of glass animal would I be?" Ashley asked.

"Oh, you're a tiger, for sure," Corrine said, making Ashley laugh.

"And what makes you say that?" she asked.

"Cause, like a tiger, you can't change your stripes, you're exactly who you always were meant to be. Also you're kind a predator," Corrine said, making Ashley cackle as she rolled over and got on top of Corrine, kissing her, making Corrine laugh too. If Corrine didn't believe in the concept of 'the one', she sure did now.

Corrine was laying in bed, asleep, while Ashley lay beside her, her eyes never leaving her sight. Truth be told, Ashley wanted to cry. She wanted to cry harder than she'd ever cried before. Corrine felt...well, like a secret, and she was, and that was something Ashley never wanted her to feel like. She felt as though she were ashamed of her, and it was starting to eat away at both of them. The last thing in the world Ashley wanted Corrine to feel like was a shameful secret of some sort, because she was anything but. She could never be ashamed of this woman, in any way, shape or form. Ashley leaned back against the headboard and anxiously chewed her nails. She finally reached over and shook Corrine awake, who roused rather violently, confused. Corrine wiped the sleep from her face and stared at Ashley.

"You're right," Ashley said, "this...this isn't fair. I don't want you to feel like this. I can't claim I'm being honest about myself if I'm hiding the person I love."

Corrine sat up on her elbows, still half asleep but listening.

"So you're right," Ashley continued, "and...and today we'll come clean, okay? Because you deserve so much better, and I...I don't wanna make you feel this way, like you're something I can't share with the world, when you have become my world."

Corrine blushed and pushed herself against Ashley, burying her face into her neck, hugging her around the waist, snuggling up. Ashley giggled and ran her hands through Corrine's hair. Ashley had come back from the brink of death, and really, coming out couldn't be anywhere near as frightening as that.

                                                                                                        ***

"I really need to store this stuff somewhere for the time being, so I appreciate you letting me use your garage," Nat said.

She and Stephen had gone out to lunch, her treat, as payment for him letting her store some of her work equipment until she could get an actual studio set up outside the home. Sitting in the BBQ restaurant, chowing down on a plate of spareribs together, Nat couldn't help but feel like, not too long ago, this had been her entire life. Doing things with this man, a man she loved, and now here they were, as if nothing had changed. Stephen licked his fingers clean and picked up his glass of soda, taking a long drink while shaking his head.

"Don't worry about it, man," he said, "I got plenty of space in there. Besides, you'll be moving it back out soon enough, so it's not in an inconvenience in any way."

"I hate looking for studio space," Nat replied, "I really do. It's so frustrating. And then I feel like I'm going too commercial on top of that. I like doing things in the house because it still feels personal, ya know? But once you're in a studio, you feel so corporate, and that's how people view you."

"Trust me Natty, no one thinks you're corporate," Stephen said, smirking, making her laugh.

"Anyway, it's just some lights, cables, a few smaller cameras, stuff like that. It's all in my trunk, I just don't have anywhere to store it in the house proper. Though, I do like the idea of removing all aspects of the work from the house so Violet doesn't feel as interrogated. She's been having a lot of trouble adjusting lately."

"Really?" Stephen asked, picking up another sparerib and biting into it.

"Yeah, she says people, mostly older women with daughters, are coming up to her and talking to her and it's making her very uncomfortable so I figure, ya know, best I can do is just remove some of the stuff that reminds her of what it is I'm doing, what she's a part of, and maybe make the house feel more like a home."

"That's admirable," Stephen said, "she can also always come stay with us anytime she wants. She's always welcome."

"That's a nice gesture, and she should see her father more often, but seeing how she is I just don't see it happening much," Nat said, laughing, as Stephen joined her. It was true, and he knew it wasn't personal. Violet was just a person who liked her privacy in the comfort of a familiar space, and her bedroom was that space. When she'd lived with them before, she'd never really felt 'at home', so the last thing Stephen would ever want to do is make his daughter feel even more uncomfortable for the sake of his ego. He loved her to death, and only wanted her happy, and right now...right now she was very happy.

                                                                                                        ***

"Okay, so, uh, so they have, I got, ya know, lots of different candy and chips and stuff, they have a lot in the machines," Violet said as she re-entered Courtney's bedroom. Courtney was still in bed, recovering from surgery, and Violet was keeping her company. She sat down on the side of the bed before Courtney tugged her on the arm, insisting that she get fully onto the bed, which she happily did, laying beside her. Together, the girls watched TV on mute and chowed down on junk food.

"It's weird," Courtney said through a mouthful of nouget, "I don't feel different at all. I always heard some girls say they felt different after getting it done, but I feel like the exact same person, more or less. I guess that's just because I AM, but still. Though I do hurt a lot, and it's going to take a bit before I can walk again."

"Who's helping you do, um, like, the dilation?" Violet asked.

"A female home nurse comes in to do it," Courtney said, "because my dad doing that would be fucking weird."

The girls laughed as Violet laid her head on Courtney's shoulder and they continued to snack.

"I'm glad you're okay," Violet said softly.

"Of course I'm okay! It's just some surgery," Courtney said, "I mean, yeah, it's kinda major, but it's not life threatening in any way. Did you...did you think I might not be?"

"I don't know," Violet said, shrugging, popping candy into her mouth and chewing as she added, "I guess I just have gotten, ya know, like, really uh, really used to people going away unexpectedly. I'm just glad you didn't go away."

Courtney smiled and rested her head against Violet's, her free hand lacing its fingers through hers, causing Violet to blush deeply. Violet had never had these feelings before and now they were so incredibly intense, and she didn't know how to handle them. Courtney turned her head and planted a kiss on the side of Violet's, making her breath catch in her chest, her heart beating rapidly.

"You're my best friend," Courtney said, "I'm not going anywhere."

Friend. That word used to make Violet so very happy. Now it just made her so deeply sad.

                                                                                                         ***

"Why do you have seven boxes of Christmas decorations?" Misty asked, standing in the garage, setting a box of cables down. Stephen turned away from her and towards Nat, jerking his thumb towards Misty.

"Does she have to be here?" he asked.

"She keeps me entertained, she's like a jester," Nat said.

"I've often been called a clown, but never a jester. I like that," Misty said.

"Besides," Nat continued, "she's taking notes on every aspect of my life so that this book can be perfect. That means she needs to get to know you, know our dynamic. You were my husband, Stephen, the father of my child, you're kind of a crucial point of understanding here."

Stephen unloaded the last box and, together, the three of them headed into the house. Once inside the kitchen, Stephen opened the fridge and pulled out some bottles of water for everyone, which they gladly took. Misty sat down at the table as Nat hopped up onto the counter, Stephen still standing in the center of the kitchen, all of them taking nice, long drinks.

"Boy," Stephen finally said, wiping his mouth on his sleeve, "been a while since I did some grueling physical labor."

"You moved 3 boxes, Stephen," Nat said, "that hardly qualifies as 'grueling'."

"Hell it hardly qualifies as 'labor'," Misty added, making Nat laugh.

"Look, I don't need to stand here and be insulted by my ex wife and her fanfic author," Stephen said, making both women laugh as they continued relaxing from the labor, drinking their waters. Truth be told, things between Stephen and Nat were so good lately, and she thought part of that was just because of the livestream. He'd seen, firsthand, what her family, him included, had meant to her, and taken it to heart. They had no interest in getting back together of course, but it was better than it had been in a long, long time. Misty finished her bottle then stood back up.

"So, where is your bathroom?" she asked.

"It's the third down on the right down the hall," Stephen said, and Misty thanked him, then excused herself.  Once she was out of earshot, Stephen looked back at Nat and grinned, shaking his head, saying, "she's weird."

"I know, I like her," Nat said, laughing.

"Aren't you worried about this book she's writing though?" Stephen asked, "I mean, seriously, what if it winds up being an unintentional hit piece?"

"At this point, I think I'd deserve it," Nat replied, shrugging. Just then a scream came from the hall, and Misty came quickly back out, stopping at the kitchen and looking at the ground as both Stephen and Nat looked over at him with confused looks on their faces.

"Um," Misty said, "uh, not to alarm you but there's two naked women in your bed. I think I picked the wrong door."

Stephen and Nat glanced back at one another briefly before getting up and briskly walking back down the hall, Misty a bit behind. Once they entered, they saw what she meant. Sitting there in the bed, the sheets pulled up around her, was Corrine, and beside her, partially dressed, was Ashley.

"...this doesn't go in the book, got it?" Stephen asked, looking back at Misty, who nodded with vigor.

                                                                                                          ***

Violet and Courtney were still laying on the bed, in the same position as they had been for the last few hours. Violet had dozed off a few times, and when she awoke, she was surprised to find that Courtney was squeezing her even tighter, as if she were a plushie of some kind, bringing her great comfort, and this made Violet happy. After a bit, Violet sat up and yawned, then looked at Courtney.

"You gonna go home?" Courtney asked, "my dad can drive you."

"I don't want to, but, um, well, it's late, and-"

"You could just stay the night, we could have a good ol' fashioned slumber party," Courtney said, sitting upright a bit, "when I was little, I was always so jealous of the girls in my class getting to do things like that, and I always wanted so desperately to be included. Now we can."

Violet wanted to stay, but she also felt as though that would be crossing some kind of boundary, with how she felt towards Courtney these days.

"You don't have to," Courtney said meekly, "it was just a suggestion."

"No, I, um, I want to, but uh...but, well..." Violet stammered to find the words, "I don't..."

Violet felt her eyes swell up with tears, and she bit her lip to keep herself from crying. Suddenly she felt a hand reach out and grab hers, squeezing gently. She looked up and saw Courtney's face, smiling warmly back at her.

"I know," she said.

"You...know?" Violet asked, "you know, um, like, that I should go home or?"

"No, I know," Courtney said, "I know how you feel. You're not very subtle, hah."

Violet felt her stomach churn. She was afraid of whatever words were going to come next.

"Why don't you stay here tonight, we can have a slumber party, eat snacks and watch movies and stuff," Courtney continued, "and...and maybe talk about it, cause...I don't feel that different from you."

Violet's eyes widened, and she nodded, slowly. She then nuzzled up against Courtney, the way she had been just a minute ago, and felt her anxieties melt away as Courtney's fingers ran through her hair once again. Within minutes, she was asleep, a real dream come true.

                                                                                                       ***

Misty in the backseat, Corrine in the passenger and Nat driving, they were on their way back to Nat's home after the incident earlier, and nobody thusfar had said a word. Corrine had her arms wrapped around herself, thinking about what Stephen and Ashley were discussing. Nat seemed fuming, but without really saying anything it was hard to tell. Misty leaned up between the seats and cleared her throat.

"For what it's worth," she said, "you're in fantastic shape."

Corrine turned her head and looked at Misty, one of her eyebrows raised.

"...thank...you?" she asked.

Nat finally pulled up to the house and Misty immediately exited the car, needing to rush inside and finally use the bathroom. Given all the hubub that had happened back at Stephen's, she never did manage to get the chance to go. Sitting now in the car alone, Corrine looked at Nat, who still had her hands gripping the steering wheel, and she sighed.

"You must hate me, and...and I understand, and if you don't want to be my friend anymore and you want me to move out, please just-"

"Why would I hate you?" Nat asked, finally turning her head to face Corrine, "...he cheated on me with my own sister, then left me for her. And now, you've stolen her away from him, doing the exact same thing, but to him. It's like the most fucked up but acceptable form of karma I've ever seen. If anything, I'm thankful for you, Corrine. You just got back at him in a way I never could, and god I'm thankful for you."

This...wasn't what Corrine had expected.

"But...but what I did was totally inexcuseable," Corrine said, "like, I think I broke up a marriage."

"Yeah, well, so did he," Nat said, "if anything, I'm more shocked by my sister being into women than anything else."

Corrine and Nat sat there for another minute, and then Corrine leapt towards her and hugged her so tightly, surprising Nat, making her laugh. Nat had spent her entire life helping others, pushing them to be themselves, to do what makes them happy, so why did Corrine possibly think she might be judgmental towards her for following her exact advice? If nothing else, Corrine was happy it was all out in the open now, and they could maybe move together normally now, as a group.

Course...that was if Stephen could ever get over the betrayal.

"Hopefully you've taken some of what we've discussed today and manage to apply it to your life. I just want you to be the healthiest, happiest version of you that you can be. And while I still have your attention, I'd like to say that this episode is sponsored by Freelings, a journal with daily instructional steps to help you feel your feelings more freely," Nat said, holding up the book, "and I for one, fucking hate myself for it."

"Alright, cut," Jay said, stepping away from the camera, and rubbing his hands over his face, "alright, that was funny, but, ya know...maybe don't insult the advertiser. It was one of the least sleazy we could manage to find."

"The whole thing about selling stuff to people I'm trying to help just feels gross. I recognize we need the financial backing, but...there has to be a less intrusive, slimy way to go about it, right?"

"Advertising on the whole is slimy and intrusive," Misty said, sitting at the table, taking notes for the book, "but it can often be presented in a way that isn't so. That's the trick, I think, to find a way to make it appear like you're genuine about what it is you're attempting to sell to them, and not just using your platform as a way to make excess income at the expense of your gullible audience."

Jay turned and looked at Misty, who was eating a bagel. She just shrugged and went back to work as he scoffed and turned back to the camera.

"Listen, we cannot survive on subscriber base and merch payments alone," Jay said, "I know it's awful to hear, and everyone likes to complain a singular 15 second adspot now, but it's just true. Advertising is what pays for things. Plain and simple. It's why television worked the way it did for so many years. Not necessarily because it was the only option with no real alternative competition, but because its model flat out worked. So just try to recognize that Corrine and I picked the best possible ones for you to work with, and let's shoot this thing right."

"I guess you're right," Nat said, sighing and looking at the journal in her hands, "...I just wish..."

A moment passed as Jay prepared for another take.

"...I just wish I wasn't a salesman," Nat whispered.

But, truth be told, her money was, in fact, going to good causes.

                                                                                                         ***

"I'm scared," Courtney said, sitting propped up in the hospital bed, Violet standing next to it. Violet was holding one of Courtney's hands, squeezing reassuringly, as Courtney tried to brace herself for the coming operation. After a moment, Courtney exhaled and added, "it's so funny, without your mom this might not be happening for a while, and it's all I've wanted for a long time now, but I'm still so scared."

"I think it's, uh, normal, ya know, to be scared of medical stuff," Violet replied, "no matter what it is. I think that's natural."

"...you're not gonna see me differently, are you?" Courtney asked, and Violet gave her a confused look. Courtney sighed and explained, "because, ya know, you've known me this way for so long now, you won't...this isn't gonna change how you see me, right?"

"I could never see you as, um, I guess, ya know, anyone other than who you are," Violet said, shrugging, "so no?"

Courtney smiled and blushed. Violet really was her best friend, she knew she could count on her support no matter what. But the idea...the idea of having her bottom surgery, of being, physically, identical to a cis woman, it still scared her. This was a big part of her identity for so long now, and yet it still made her anxious to know that, in a few short hours, she would no longer be the person she used to be, physically anyway. That was going to take some getting used to. A nurse entered and told Violet she would have to leave a minute, as they began to prep Courtney for surgery, and Violet nodded in understanding response.

"You'll be here when I wake up?" Courtney asked.

"Where else am I gonna go? I don't drive," Violet said, making her laugh. Courtney took Violet's hand in hers, their fingers interlaced, and brought it up to her face, rubbing her hand against her cheek, sighing comfortingly.

"Thank you," Courtney whispered, as Violet blushed and nodded slowly. After this, Violet was forced to take leave of the room, and wound up back in the waiting area where Corrine, who had driven her here, was still sitting, reading an outdated magazine. Violet plopped herself down in the chair beside Corrine and chewed nervously on her fingernails as Corrine turned the page of the magazine and scoffed.

"This might've been good advice two years ago, but it's pretty outdated now," Corrine said, "medical science moves fast."

"Can I ask you something? And you have to promise not to tell my mom," Violet said, getting Corrine's attention. Corrine put the magazine in her lap and turned to face her fully.

"Sure, what's up?"

"Um, well...when you...when did you, ya know, growing up, realized that, uh...ya know...you..." Violet started, before trailing off and looking down at her hands in her lap, clearly anxious, "...when did you first like girls?"

Corrine's eyes widened in surprise. She'd never taken Violet as someone to even have crushes, but let alone one on the same sex. Corrine exhaled and leaned back in her chair, folding her arms as she bit her lip and thought about it. When had it started? She'd never had a crush on a boy, that much was certain, but when had she first officially crushed on someone? For a good chunk of her adolescence, Corrine had been entirely detached from social interaction for the most part, opting to avoid her peers and instead spend time alone. So...Freshman year in high school, maybe?

"I think when I was...15," Corrine said, "I mean, in hindsight, there were definitely girls I thought were pretty when I was little, but I didn't really understand what that meant until later on, you know? But the clues were always there, even if I was bad at picking up on them. But then, when I was a freshman in high school, whoo boy. There was this girl in my science class that I just lost my mind for. She had this long, wavy chocolate colored hair and these amber eyes, and she was really, really smart. Wanted to go to college for genetics and stuff. That was probably my first major realization."

"I never thought I would, ya know...feel, um, feel anything romantic for anyone," Violet said, almost shaking, "cause I...I'm not, uh, I'm not, ya know...normal."

"You're perfectly normal," Corrine said, putting a hand on Violet's back and rubbing comfortingly, before adding, "...why don't you want your mom to know?"

"I don't know."

"You know she wouldn't judge you, right? Hell, her entire identity is based around accepting others and helping them be happy as themselves, why wouldn't she want that for her own daughter?" Corrine asked, before adding, "I mean, sure, things change a bit when it's your kid, sometimes, but I don't see your mom as one of those kinds of people. But if you don't want me to say anything, then your secret is safe with me."

Violet smiled and nodded, still staring at her lap. It felt good to get it out of her. To have said it at least once. Even if it wasn't to the woman she trusted most in the world.

                                                                                                      ***

"I know how you feel," Misty said as she and Nat sat at the table while Jay worked on lighting; Misty continued, "the idea of having to accept any kind of questionable funds with equally questionable morals is...it makes me uncomfortable. I'm lucky inso that I only write for others, not myself, and that means the money is already taken care of. But for those out there attempting to make a name for themselves via their text, I can only imagine how frustrating the whole thing must be, trying to secure some kind of finances when you know all they want in return is for you to shill."

Nat nodded, half listening. She was eating chips and dip, but watching Jay work on the set in the corner of the kitchen, where they often shot outros. All she could think about was how gross it felt to have to whore herself out to simply continue to do what she'd always done.

"In a way," Nat finally said, "the freedom leaving the station gave me is also crippling me creatively, because now I'm publicly funded, sure, but not on the same level as the station. Sometimes I wonder if it's even worth it to stay in the business, just because of that."

Misty finished her bagel and licked errant cream cheese off her fingertips before sipping her coffee, then setting her mug down on the table loudly with a thunk, causing Nat to fully look at her.

"It's funny, the way we both interact with our respective mediums; here you are, insisting you want to help others, being openly yourself, presenting things the way they are or should be and hoping those listening take your advice to hear for the betterment of their lives. Meanwhile I'm trying to be anyone other than me. I want to live in the shadows, do my work and stay unbothered."

"Did you ever write for you?" Nat asked, and Misty grimaced.

"Once, but...but not anymore, and not in a very, very long time," Misty replied, "that's the thing most people don't tell you about art. It's only worthwhile if it's financially viable."

"See I don't agree with that," Nat said.

"You don't have to, and you're right not, but when dealing with the corporate world...it's sadly the truth," Misty said, before going back to jotting down notes in her little booklet. Nat sighed and looked back at Jay, who was now adjusting features on the camera, and she wondered how he really felt about all this. Sure, he and Corrine went through and they gathered what they assumed to be the best of the worst possible sponsors, but did he really accept things as they were, or was he also angry with her, the way she was angry with herself, for having to go down this route? Especially now with the influx of new fans from her livestream, and needing the extra money to cover it, bandwidth costs and all. She wanted to ask him.

But she was afraid of hearing what she didn't want to hear.

                                                                                                        ***

Corrine, after dropping Violet back off at home, went to Ashley's. Sitting cross legged in the bed, wearing nothing but her oversized sweater while Ashley returned with two cups of tea, Corrine couldn't help but feel weird about the interaction she'd had with Violet that afternoon. Clearly the kid was going through some kind of identity crisis, and, okay, she had asked Corrine not to tell her mother...but she had said nothing about telling her aunt. Corrine knew it was fucked, to out someone when they didn't want to be outed, but she needed advice. Ashley, after handing Corrine her cup, also climbed back onto the bed and sat back, leaning against the headboard.

"You know," Ashley said, after taking a sip, "I don't think I ever needed liquids as much after sex as I do with you."

"Is that a good or a bad thing?" Corrine asked.

"I'd say it's a positive, it means you wear me out," Ashley remarked, winking, making Corrine chuckle. Corrine then turned and faced her, legs still crossed, holding her cup between her hands.

"I need to ask your advice on something," Corrine said, "...and please don't talk to Nat about this, but...Violet told me today that she might have a crush...on a girl. She came to me for advice, asking when the first time I ever had one was, and I told her my experience. But the whole thing has left me wondering...what about you?"

A pause, and Ashley thought about it. Well, outside of the nurse in the hospital, there hadn't been one woman in particular she could think of that had been an 'awakening' of sorts, but she also, admittedly, had never liked women, or at least not accepted having liked them, until after her illness. She hesitated answering, lifting her cup to her lips and taking a sip.

"I was never with any girls, I didn't grow up liking girls, I didn't have feelings for woman until after I got better and, even then, they were pretty sparse, minimal, nothing major. So no, I don't have a 'story' like other queer women might, but that doesn't make me any less queer. Sexuality is fluid, after all, for a lot of people and can change over time. I think I just was so deep in the closet, trying to be so perfect, that I wasn't willing to let anything ruin that for me, you know? And then you showed up."

"I ruined it for you?" Corrine asked, half grinning.

"It was more like being punched in the face, this sort of...sudden holy shit moment where I realized, the moment I sw, what it was I was missing and what I'd always been looking for. So no, until you, nobody else ever piqued my interest romantically, if that's what you're asking."

A brief pause, as silence filled the room and Corrine swallowed her pride.

"Then what makes you think I'm so worthwhile? Why should I believe you won't just leave me for someone else?" she asked, near tears.

"Whoa, hey, what's....what's going on, are you okay?" Ashley asked, scooting forward, putting her cup down on the bedside table and placing her hands on Corrine's face, lifting it to look at her; she added, "Corrine, why would you...why would you think I would do that? Haven't I made it crystal clear that you're all I want?"

Corrine nodded and Ashley smiled.

"Exactly," she whispered, continuing, "so there's no reason to be afraid of me leaving or this ending. And as for helping Violet, you did your best, I'm sure, but maybe I'm the one she should talk to. I am her aunt, after all."

"You can't tell her I said anything," Corrine said, "I promised her-"

"I won't, but when the time comes, she needs to know I'll be there."

"And when will the time come? When will we be out together?" Corrine asked, and this one surprised Ashley, because she herself wasn't sure. She was still with Stephen, she was still technically in a heterosexual relationship, and she was, in a sense, having an affair with Corrine. When would she feel comfortable ending her ongoing life for something different?

"I don't know, but...but we'll make it happen soon, okay?" Ashley whispered, kissing Corrine on the forehead, "because, frankly, you're too special to hide from others."

Corrine pushed herself into Ashley and cried, while Ashley ran her fingers through her hair, comforting her. Corrine had a point. It was wrong to continue living in shadows, at least in their situation. If someone doesn't want to come out of the closet yet, that's understandable, but to be married to a man and still sleeping with a woman, that was an entirely different set of circumstances, and Corrine deserved better. They both did. And Ashley knew her time with Stephen was at an end. History or not, it was over.

It just kind of hurt to admit it.

                                                                                                        ***

Nat was standing in the checkout line of the grocery store, picking up a frozen pizza and a handful of other items, when she felt a tap on her shoulder. She jumped a bit, while retrieving her credit card from her wallet, and turned just to notice Sharla standing there in her workout attire. Nat laughed, a hand to her chest, and nodded.

"Okay, don't do that again," Nat said, "you damn near spooked me half to death. I was so focused."

"Sorry, I'm just trying to be friendly," Sharla said, the both of them laughing now; Sharla then asked, "how're things going? We haven't spoken much since before the livestream."

"It's...weird," Nat said, unsure of how to explain it, before turning to fully face her and asking, "hey, do you have sponsors?"

"Sure, gotta. Can't survive otherwise," Sharla said, holding up her water bottle and shaking it, "like this company, they gave me a free bottle and all kinds of free healthy waters-"

"The fuck is a healthy water? Isn't all water healthy?"

"Yeah, drink leaded water and then come talk to me," Sharla said, chuckling, "anyway, they give me all sorts of perks just for featuring the bottle in my work."

"But you...you don't actually...advertise it?"

"No, it just being there is enough. The way I saw it was that I felt bad for trying to sell things to people who are just trying to stay in shape, get in shape, etc. I didn't want them to feel as though I was taking advantage of them looking for help by me trying to sell them useless crap. And sure, what I'm advertising isn't harmful by any means, it's a goddamned water bottle, but it still made me feel uneasy. So, I told them, I'll do this but under one condition...I don't say anything about it. It's just there. People see me use it, and some like it aesthetically and others like me enough to just be inspired to buy one and that's that. It's a prop. That's how you have to look at it."

Nat nodded slowly, taking this advice in. Sharla had a point. Look at advertising as a prop, just something to be seen during filming, and perhaps she could quash the gross feeling actually advertising it gave her in her stomach. Nat finished paying for her things, and then, after bagging them, looked back to Sharla.

"You know, you're really business savvy," Nat said, "I'm glad to have you on the team."

"Well thank you!" Sharla replied excitedly, sounding genuinely touched. She paid for her items, and together they started walking out of the grocery to their respective vehicles.

"So what do you think about a journal that encourages people, with templates, to express how they feel on a given day?" Nat asked.

"I think it sounds pushy," Sharla said.

"Yeah, that's what I thought too," Nat replied.

"Do you want another cup of coffee?" Nat asked the woman sitting across from her in the living room, her hands shaking while holding her now empty coffee mug.

"I think if you give another cup you might kill her," Corrine whispered, making Nat chuckle.

"I'm...I'm okay," the woman said, setting the mug down on the table by the couch and exhaling slowly, as if trying to gather her nervous demeanor before speaking; after a moment, she opened the notebook in her lap and pulled a pen from her shirt pocket, then said, "how about we start with your influences?"

"That's been done to death, that's like, the first thing they ever ask you when you get interviewed, even if you've been asked it a million times before. Everyone wants to start at the beginning. I think it's more interesting to start at your worst point. Like, how about, when my husband left me for my sister?"

A quiet came over the room as Jay ran his hands over his face while standing behind the couch, and Corrine snickered to herself. The women nodded solemnly and shrugged as she uncapped her pen.

"Well, you, I mean, it's your story, so sure, wherever you want to start is where we'll start, I've got not emotional stake in this whatsoever," she said, making Nat's eyes widen. The level of honesty took her by surprise, as she didn't often run into that trait from people in this industry. Nat shifted on the couch and cleared her throat.

"Right, well, uh, I guess the first thing that comes to mind when remembering that is how absolutely incompetent it made me feel. I mean, here I was giving advice to strangers every day on living their best lives and being happy with the people they love, and yet I couldn't even see what was going on right in front of my own face. Sure makes you feel stupid in retrospect. It's had its silver linings though, cause it helped me meet new people who are now important to me, but I won't say that it didn't ruin the life I had. If we'd just...no, not we....if I'd just talked to him, maybe it all could've been avoided."

Jay, leaning against the wall, heard the stairs creak and looked over to see Violet coming down the steps cautiously, pulling her bookbag strap over her chest. She stopped and watched her mom talk to this stranger in their living room before looking at Jay, who just smiled at her as Courtney came up behind her, having slept over the night before.

"Hey, you girls want to go get some breakfast?" Jay asked, and they nodded. He was relieved. He didn't want to be here to witness this. Jay grabbed his car keys and, with the girls in tow, headed outside. He figured they'd get some kind of pastry somewhere - specifically so he could get coffee - and then he'd drop them off at school. Anything to remove himself from what he saw as the fracturing of a well oiled machine.

                                                                                                            ***

"I don't think she needs advertisers, at least not the ones she's getting," Jay had said to Corrine the night before, when they were in the editing bay, discussing the influx of advertisers looking to turn Nat and Violet into influencers; Jay continued as he paced, "they aren't interested in her message, they're interested in getting someone people deem trustworthy to spread their message."

"Dude, will you stop pacing, you're driving me nuts," Corrine said as she sat staring at her monitors in her chair, "there's like a million places to sit, just pick one."

"It's just...they're trying to co-opt and then corrupt, you know? I'm not saying she's like a...a cult leader or someone with a lot of pull to people to make them ultimately rearrange their entire lives, but people DO trust her enough to take her advice seriously and this newfound fame has only brought in even more people. Parents. Families. Estranged children. And now here come the swooping vultures, ready to take advantage of that as much as they possibly can."

"My guy, they're just advertisers. They're allll sleazy, there's no varying degrees of sleaziness. If you're sleazy, you're sleazy. You're overthinking this. Besides, what are the odds that she even entertains the idea? Sure, money is enticing, but she's not stupid, Jay, give her some credit," Corrine said, tapping away on her editing board.

"I just don't wanna see her screw up, and I don't wanna see her screw Violet up. She did what she did to get her daughter back, not to gain noteriety, that's just been an unintended side effect. I'm afraid if she goes down that path, the same thing will happen again," Jay said, forcing Corrine to exhale loudly and turn around in her desk chair to face him.

"Okay," she said, "I'm only gonna say this once, because if you don't listen the first time then clearly you've indicated I am not worth listening to and so why bother repeating myself if nobody listens. She's smart. She's said multiple times that she's doing the show for the sake of those who need guidance, not for the monetary reward or the clout. With all that in mind, don't you think we should, oh I don't know, give her the benefit of the doubt?"

Jay sighed and nodded, sitting on the couch and crossing his arms.

"Yeah...yeah I guess you're right," he said, "just makes me anxious. First she's got this ghost writer coming in, and then the meeting with the advertisers, it just feels like so much is changing so fast."

"I'm no fan of change, lord knows," Corrine said, "but not all change is bad."

This statement surprised Jay, seeing how Corrine was often such a gloomy, negative person, but ever since being with Ashley, Corrine's outlook had changed a bit. Now she kind of welcomed it, since it was actually in her favor for once. Jay took in what she'd said, and he knew she was right. Nat was smart, especially when it came to her work, and she wouldn't jeopardize both that and her reborn relationship with Violet just for some cash.

...still...a part of him wondered.

                                                                                                          ***

"I hate this," Violet said, "I don't, um, I don't like this at all."

"I feel it, kiddo," Jay replied.

Jay, Courtney and Violet were sitting in the parking lot of a fast food establishment, having gotten their breakfast off the menu. They were still sitting in the car, parked a bit aways from the restaurant as they ate. Jay picked up his coffee cup and took a long sip while Violet bit and chewed, then set her breakfast sandwich down in her lap and sighed.

"She wasn't, ya know, she wasn't, uh, supposed to do this," Violet said, "she was, um, she was supposed to do the opposite. I thought it'd be different."

"It is different, for what it's worth," Jay said, "I mean, for one, she wants to include you, not that you want that. She should listen to you about that, and don't worry, I'll keep trying to get her to. But Violet, and I hate saying this because it means I'm acknowledging the fact of the matter myself - something I hate - we need advertisers, sponsors, otherwise the thing is unprofitable and unable to continue being made. MY issue is the advertisers she's courting."

"I don't mind, ya know, um, yeah, the book, the lady with the book," Violet said, "but yeah, what you said. About the...the advertisers. I don't like that. They're just after her cause of me."

"Yep. And that's what pisses me off most. Vultures, the lot of 'em," Jay said, "but Corrine told me the other night to just trust in your mother that she wouldn't do anything to harm you and your relationship with her, especially after what she did to get you back, and I do feel like she's right in that regard. Nat's always been about putting others first, helping them with what she does. I don't think she'd run the risk of hurting you again, unintentionally or otherwise. I think you leaving really opened her  eyes."

"If that's true, then why is she still meeting with these people?" Courtney chimed in, surprising Jay, who just sighed and shook his head in response.

"I wish I could tell ya. Obligation? Politeness? There's a certain attitude one has to cultivate to succeed in the entertainment industry and sadly, more often than not, you can't just outright ignore people, so maybe she feels as though she owes them her time. But one thing she doesn't owe them is her show. That's what it comes down to. Listening is cheap. Entering a partnership? That'll cost her, and she knows it."

Jay wasn't wrong, but he still had a sinking feeling in his gut that Nat was entirely capable of fucking up.

Mainly because she had, so many times, regardless of her intentions being in the right place.

                                                                                                    ***

"It all stemmed from a place of worthlessness within myself, I guess," Nat said, "this feels oddly therapeutic."

"I get that a lot," the ghostwriter replied, writing something down without looking up.

"My parents, our parents, they weren't...they weren't bad parents by any means but they were very emotionally unavailable, and I think that stunted my sister, and only enforced me to be even open more so. I wanted to help others. Ever since I was a little girl, I wanted to do the right thing, take care of people, animals, whatever. I always saw the best in others, their full potential, but...never in myself. At least not until my ex husband did."

"It's weird," the ghostwriter said, looking up from her notebook, "people always tell you that you can't find your worth in other people, and only in yourself. It's almost as if they feel trust is somehow untrustworthy if it comes from other people. I'm not saying there's a level of co-dependency that is unhealthy, but there's a level that also makes total sense, because, well....people want to be loved, and to tell someone you can't be loved until you love yourself, that's putting all the blame on an already likely overly internally judgemental person."

Nat straightened up in her posture, surprised by the ghostwriters statement. After a moment, she just shrugged and went back to writing in the notebook.

"Just something that always bothered me," she finished.

"What's your name?" Nat asked, "I'm sorry, that's so unprofessional of me, but I don't remember peoples names until knowing them a while."

"It's fine, nobody ever remembers me, that's what makes me perfect for this job," the ghostwriter said, "my name is Misty LeClaire."

"That's a stripper name," Corrine said, making Nat laugh under her breath and then immediately apologize; Corrine just shrugged and added, "what, it is."

"It's fine, she's not entirely wrong," Misty said, "I'm not happy with it, but at the same time my name is already so fake sounding that when people see it inside a book, they automatically don't think I'm a real person, so it grants me an extra layer of privacy, which I, for one, really appreciate and need. I don't want to be famous, especially not for telling other peoples stories."

Nat nodded, getting an odd sense of detachedness from her. Suddenly a knock at the door, and Corrine stood up, going to answer it. Nat looked back at Misty, who was adjusting her small round spectacles as she kept writing in her notebook.

"You wanna hear a story?" Nat asked, and Misty shrugged, still looking down as she mouthed "whatever", so Nat continued, adding, "when I was a little girl, I went to a taping of this show on public access cable. It was of this woman, Tammy Truman, and she wore this bright pink suit with black trim, and she had this really nice, straight, golden brown hair. Anyway, I went because my aunt was very 'support the arts' type, she often donated to the stations, listened to public radio, stuff like that. So there I am, I must've been about 9, and I'm watching this woman talk to the audience about 'finding their solace'. Didn't know what the hell that meant, but I could tell it resonated with the audience cause they were all kind of weepy and listening intently. Even as a kid you can read the room, tone is easy to pick up, even if it's silent. So anyway at one point she asks this woman to come up on the stage with her, this older woman, maybe in her early to mid 60s, and she asks why she's struggling to fiind her solace, and the woman tells her it's because her daughter, daughters husband and their two children died in a violent car accident recently, and how can one find solace in a world that's so hell bent on showing us pain?"

Misty finally looked up, now clearly listening.

"...and Tammy Truman, she just...she listened, and she nodded, and when all was said and done, she told the lady 'if you can't find solace for yourself, finding it for others is good too'. I know she meant, like, accepting the loss, knowing her family isn't in pain now and that these things happen and things change, but...to me...that meant that you could help others find solace when they struggle to, just like she showed herself doing that very afternoon. After that, I realized two things: the first was that I wanted to help people the way Tammy Truman helped people, and the second...was that I wanted to get paid to do it. Couldn't go to school to become a therapist, that takes too damn long, comes with too much risk, but public access? That was open to anyone willing to try, and goddammit was I willing to try."

Misty tapped her pen on the notebook, chewing on her lip, before they both looked up to see Corrine and another woman entering the room.

"I thought you got lost," Nat said.

"Yeah, how long does it take to answer a door? It was like 7 feet away," Misty added, making Nat smirk; if she was joining in on the barbs, she was clearly letting her walls down, and Nat appreciated that.

"Hello, I'm Marsha Goldblatt, from Sinful Sadness," the woman said, holding her hand out to be shaken, but nobody shook it. After a moment of awkwardness, she retracted her arm and cleared her throat, adding, "well, it's a pleasure to meet you."

"Sinful Sadness?" Misty asked, "isn't that the depression meal kit?"

Everyone looked towards her before looking back at Martha.

"Well, we like to think that we offer easy to put together meal preparation kits for people who, maybe, are just too depressed to cook healthy otherwise. Now, unlike a lot of other kits such as these, ours doesn't bank entirely on their dietary habits. We aren't aiming to make people feel bad that they can't be bothered to cook better. Most of those kits take advantage of the fact that people are busy, tired, or simply lack the facilities to do so, but we're not like that. We're not shaming anyone. We're trying to help people."

"But showing them here's another thing they can't do and taking money from them?" Misty asked, making Nat and Corrine smirk a bit, as Martha glared at her before fixing her face and smiling fake towards Nat once more.

"We know that a lot of people suffer with cooking when they are in a deep depression, and that's why we want to help. We provide healthy food that's extremely easy to create a meal from, so much so that my seven year old can do it, and we just want them to know that there are people out there who care about them, and the way they're taking care of themselves. Who think they deserve better."

"They deserve better? Than...the way they treat themselves? That's the kind of thing you tell trapped in an abusive relationship, not someone struggling with crippling chronic depression," Misty chimed in once more, "all that's gonna do is make them go 'well, I can't even treat myself right, you're right, I AM pathetic', and honestly what's more disgustingly capitalistic than a company pretending to care about your needs, and be your friend, under the guise of making money off you? Hell, so many are so transparent now that they aren't even pretending anymore."

"Does she have to be here?" Martha asked, pointing towards Misty.

"No," Nat said, "she doesn't, but I want her to, because everything she said is true. Look, I'm sure your company, as are many others, are formed with the best of intentions, but she's not wrong. You're making the consumer feel worse every step of the way. Frankly, and forgive me if this is rude, but...if anyone doesn't need to be here, I think it's you."

Martha stared in disbelief momentarily, before briskly thanking them for their time, turning on her heel and exiting from the house, slamming the door on her way out. Nat looked back at Misty and smiled.

"So," Misty said, "where were we?"

"I like this girl," Corrine said happily.

                                                                                                     ***

Violet was laying on her bed staring at her ceiling with her headphones on, listening to white noise, when Nat entered. Violet sat up as Nat got closer, but she merely motioned for Violet to lay back down, and then laid down beside her. Together, mother and daughter, they lay there in silence for a bit, just listening to the nothing that surrounded them. After a few minutes, Violet nestled up to her mom and hugged her, resting her face on her chest. Nat smiled and stroked Violet's hair.

"I was really mean to someone today," Nat said.

"Did they deserve it?" Violet asked.

"Vi, nobody ever deserves to have someone be mean to them, I mean, unless they're, like, actively hurting others or something, then I suppose it's justified. And I guess she kinda was, actually. But still. Actually, it wasn't even me who started it, it was the ghostwriter. I like her. I think I'm gonna work with her on this book. But as far as the advertisements go, I don't know how comfortable I feel. I'd like to find something not sleazy and intrusive."

Another few moments passed as Violet nodded and yawned in response.

"Mommy?" she asked, and Nat grinned, loving that her daughter still called her that even at this age.

"Yes love?" she replied.

"I don't like advertisers either, they make me feel gross," Violet said, "and I don't like being used to make money."

"I'm not using you to make money, am I?" Nat asked, sounding hurt, but Violet just shook her head.

"No, you're, um, you're okay, you're good, but I don't like the idea of them doing it. People I don't know are coming up to me, and they're, uh, they're talking to me like they know me and it makes me very uncomfortable."

"Well, the next time they do that, just be rude back," Nat said, "and if that doesn't work, kick 'em in the shins."

"I like you when you're mean," Violet said, the both of them laughing.