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430 subscribers, and only two episodes had been released. This was going better than Natasha had expected it to. Of course, Jay had told her that most people were tech savvy and would therefore easily migrate to a new platform to follow someone they liked enough, but even still. Two episodes and already that many subscribers? Ridiculous. The inbox for the website they'd created was already flooded with many e-mails - either subscriptions to the newsletter, the site itself or simply congratulatory sort of stuff - and she was having a hard time sifting through all of it. It was while doing the third episode that Jay finally snapped.

"We need to hire an editor," he'd said, making Natasha groan.

"I don't want to bring more people on, we already brought on Sharla, and that was more than I wanted," Nat whined, "Do we need to hire an editor?"

"Dude, I can not make everything and edit it, I simply don't have the drive to do that. It's too much work for one man, even one as great as I am," Jay said, making her laugh as he added, "I'll vet some folks, we'll find someone, okay?"

"We could just put an ad online," Nat replied, "We could just...you know, throw something up somewhere saying we're looking for someone to do a small editing job for us. Who knows what kind of response we would get."

"That's exactly what I'm afraid of. Who knows what kind of response we would get. We could wind up with a lunatic if they're not carefully vetted," Jay said, "I'll ask my former film teacher at the local college if he knows any good students. He's trustworthy, and I know he wouldn't just turn someone awful loose on us."

The door opened and Violet and Courtney entered, pulling their packs off and dumping them on the floor. Violet sat beside her mother, who kissed her forehead, as Courtney collapsed in a chair, exhaling loudly.

"Long day?" Jay asked, going back to his work.

"Exhausting," Courtney said, "Why is school so hard? I mean, they hide behind this excuse that they're preparing us for the real world, but I guarantee you that nobody in the real world is going to ever quiz me on the street about Sherlock Holmes and its literary qualities and influences. Why do they make us study this?"

"Life's a mystery," Jay said, smirking as Courtney glared at him.

"Hey, it's a little late for jokes, alright?" she replied, making everyone laugh.

Natasha took the girls out for pizza that night, while Jay went to speak with his former film teacher. He and Nat made plans to meet the following day and go over some potential editors, which made Natasha extremely nervous. She was terrified of bringing in too many people. She was afraid that, somehow, it would make things too crowded, too complicated, too tense. While she sat downstairs and tried to relax that evening after dinner, Courtney and Violet were upstairs and looking at her website on Courtney's laptop. Sitting on the floor together, scrolling through the comments left by viewers, Courtney just shook her head in awe.

"This is so cool," she muttered, "Your mom is so cool."

"My mom is pretty great," Violet said.

"She's going to wind up really reaching a much wider audience than she ever would have on public access," Courtney said, "...this comment is weird."

Violet scooted closer and together they read over the comment, which read:

"I can't believe it's you. I can't believe you're real. I can't believe I found this. Please know that I look up to you. I am your biggest fan."

Violet and Courtney looked at one another, both perplexed. Who was this commenter, and how could they find out?

                                                                                                  ***

Jay knocked a few times, but nobody answered. He glanced at Natasha, who shrugged and so he knocked again. Again no answer. They were standing in the hallway of a college dorm, with kids milling about all around them. Jay checked the paper as Natasha sighed.

"Are you even sure this is the right room?" she asked, and he nodded.

"Yes, I'm sure," Jay replied, sounding annoyed.

"What's her name?"

"Corrine Welkes," Jay said, "She's supposedly the best editor he's got. Top of her class, already getting gigs here and there, really making a name for herself."

Finally as he raised his fist to knock one final time, the door creaked open and the face of a young, pale woman peeked out through the crack at them. She pushed the long errant bangs of black hair from her eyes and looked back and forth between Jay and Natasha.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

"We're here to talk to you about an editing job," Jay said.

"...okay, come in," Corrine said, opening the door, letting them come inside.

The dorm was completely dark, except for the Japanese paper lanterns she'd strung up across the room, and a batch of computer lights here and there at a work station. She was dressed in an oversized flannel and khaki pants, certainly no slave the fashion, and her hair was black and frizzy and huge. She sat back down at her desk, as Jay and Natasha pulled up neighboring stools and seated themselves.

"What is this job?" she asked, squinting her eyes before adjusting the large glasses sitting on her face and saying, "hey...you're that lady who went whacko on TV."

"I am indeed that lady who went whacko on TV, you got me," Nat replied, chuckling, "not really my finest moment, and after I went whacko at a school assembly, it cost me my job, so. That's actually why we're here. We've started doing my show again but we're putting it on the internet, and we need you to edit it for us. It's simply too much work for us to take on ourselves."

"...does it pay?"

"I mean, sure, why wouldn't it?" Nat asked, "and as profits continue to go up, your pay will increase. It's a joint venture between everyone involved. But I would need the work done well and on time."

"You think I'm not good?" Corrine asked.

"I...I didn't say that, I'm just ensuring that if I'm going to pay you, that you'll do it," Nat said.

"...okay," Corrine said, her buck front teeth biting her bottom lip, "...I want half of my paycheck made out to a separate address though. Can we swing that?"

"Sure, whatever works for you," Jay said.

As Jay and Corrine spoke about specifics, Natasha got up and strolled casually around the dorm, taking in all the posters on the wall - mostly film posters of classic or independent movies - and shelf after shelf of books. A few small glass animals adorned the shelves here and there, and she smiled at that. She liked seeing younger people having an interest in stuff grandmothers would have an interest in. As she picked up a glass turtle and looked at it in her palm, she heard Corrine behind her.

"I got that from a friend in Hawaii," she said, surprising Nat, making her turn, startled, to face her.

"R-really? Well that's pretty cool," she replied.

"I don't get to see her much now, so it's kind of special to me," Corrine said, "it also got me interested in other tiny glass animals. I have a giraffe and a dog and lots others. But the turtle is the best on by far, just because of the memory of who gave it to me."

Natasha smiled and placed the glass turtle back on the shelf.

"I totally get that. I have things that mean a lot to me because of where they came from or who they came from, so I understand completely."

"Can I ask you a question?" Corrine asked.

"Sure, what?"

"Why'd you go whacko?"

Nat sighed and leaned against the wall while Jay filled out some papers for Corrine to sign. Corrine chewed on her nails nervously, her bouncy black hair bobbing as she bit on her fingertips.

"...I think I started to really, like, push how I felt about things down at a certain point, and it finally exploded when he left, culminating in that outburst. But, oddly enough, the truth is freeing. Not the rage, the rage is bad, and I'm trying harder to control that now, but the truth proper is...very weirdly freeing. To finally accept that I feel things, and that it's okay to feel things. You'd think I'd have figured that out a long time ago considering how much of my career has been based around telling complete and total strangers how they feel is valid and that they should take care of themselves, but...I don't know, I just never really extended that lesson to myself, I suppose."

"it can be bad to feel things sometimes," Corrine whispered, "especially when they're things that can get you hurt."

Natasha looked at her, confused, but nodded. Jay called Corrine back over to do the signing, and as she watched them, it slowly dawned on her just what a couple of weirdos she'd gotten herself involved in, and how little this new family resembled the one she once had with her husband. She then crossed her arms and smiled. She really wouldn't have it any other way.

                                                                                                 ***

"It would be very hard to track them down, considering this isn't public access," Courtney said as they glanced at the comment again and again; she tossed her hair and added, "because it's global, it could be anyone from anywhere and we'll never know."

Violet groaned and flopped onto her back on the bed, leaving Courtney on the floor.

"I'm my moms biggest fan," Violet said, making Courtney smile as she continued, "but I, like, wanna know who...uh...who it could be, because...because it...it might be someone we, um, we know or something. Or maybe, like, not, and maybe uh, maybe they are dangerous and scary?"

"I highly doubt someone has it out for a woman who had a public access show," Courtney said, snickering.

"But I have to know, cause, I, ya know, um, like I don't...I don't want someone to hurt my mom," Violet said, sitting up on the bed now, sniffling as though she were going to cry, "I don't...I wanna...make sure she's safe. She's always, like, made sure I'm safe, you know? It's only fair."

Courtney smiled and stood up from the floor, seating herself on the foot of the bed and holding Violet's hand.

"Then we'll do whatever it takes to track them down, okay? Maybe we can ask the guy who's working with her, Jay? He's a tech guy. Maybe he knows what to do," Courtney said, "Whatever it is, Violet, I'll help you keep her safe, I promise."

This eased Violet's worry. Not much, but it did.

                                                                                            ***

"What a weirdo," Nat said under her breath as she and Jay sat in his car in the parking lot of a fast food taco place, both eating equally unhealthy things for dinner; she wiped her mouth on her arm and said, "I just...she's so odd. But you say she's the best, and she did show us that reel of hers and it was really good, so I guess we can't really say no to someone with that level of expertise."

"She was odd, sure," Jay said, taking a big bite, "but often the weirdos are the best in the entertainment world, so I say welcome aboard. It isn't like Sharla isn't weird."

"Are you kidding me? Sharla's the most normal one of us all," Nat replied, laughing as she pushed taco meat into her mouth, "She's literally the most level headed, seemingly human one out of the whole group. She's an actual person and we're all just...just weird cardboard cutouts of people."

Jay finished his food and laid back in his seat, sighing, resting his hand on his chest and exhaling.

"...maybe we're all whackos, and that's why we get along," Nat said, "Maybe we just...needed to find one another to finally have people we trusted in our lives. I don't think I should be looked up to, of course, lord knows I have made a mess of things, but-"

"That isn't fair, dude, you didn't make a mess of things, your ex did. He's the one who walked out on his family, for his own wifes sister, okay? He's the one who fucked up, not you. You're a good person, Natasha. You're such a good person that it's, like, sickening. That's why you draw people to you. They feel safe around you, because you are a safe person. That's the best gift someone can give someone else, is that feeling of safety."

Natasha looked at Jay, who was sitting up in the car now, looking at her. He pulled his cap off, running his hands through his hair and sighing.

"Like, I not only was grateful because you let me work with you, but I was just so...inspired by the fact that your show existed primarily to help other people. You weren't doing it for the money. You've told me that before. You've told me how you did it because people needed help, they needed guidance, and the world was letting them down, and that's just not okay, and you're right, it's not okay. So you stepped up and you said 'listen, these people who are lying to you, religious leaders, politicians, your own family? they aren't the ones you should be listening to. you should be listening to yourself'. You didn't even tell them to listen to you, you told them to listen to themselves, and that's what's wild. It would've been so easy to simply usurp an authority figures place with yourself, but you told these people the only authority that mattered was their own."

Nat put her food down, grabbed the back of Jay's head and pulled him in, kissing him. Jay was surprised, but he didn't resist. She climbed out of her carseat and into his lap, kissing him passionately, feeling his hands in her hair now. It started to rain outside, but they didn't care. She knew Violet was home and safe. She knew the show was well on its way to being a success.

Right now was all that mattered.

Right here.

Her own happiness for a change.

                                                                                             ***

She shut her laptop down and sat cross legged on her bed.

A knock on the door came, and she glanced over at it, as the door swung open and an older woman entered, cheerful and bright.

"Are you still hungry?" she asked, and Noreen shook her head.

"No thank you," she said, "...I found her."

"You did?"

"She's uploading videos to the internet. She has her own website," Noreen said, making the woman smile and nod.

"Well that's great to know," she said, "I'll bring you your medications and a glass of cocoa."

With that the older woman exited, leaving Noreen to lay back on her bed and stare at the mobile hanging overhead. She'd finally found her. After all this time, after all these years, she'd tracked her down, and they didn't even live in different cities or states. All this time they'd been that close to one another...amazing. She smiled and shut her eyes. Doris would be back with the cocoa and her anti-psychotics in a matter of minutes, and she'd take both and go to sleep, knowing full well that now that she had Natasha to guide her...

...there was nothing she couldn't do.
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Allie hadn't been invited to many birthday parties.


Even now, she was sure she was only invited because the mother of the child who's birthday it was forced her to invite her entire class, so as not to cause a ruckus amongst those who hadn't been invited and those who had. Sitting in the backseat of her parents car, the present they'd made her bring loosely held in her lap, Allie couldn't help but feel like she'd be just as out of place here as she was at school.


"When can I come home?" she asked.


"You know, other kids like playing with kids their age," her mother said, turning onto a suburban street and coming to a crawl, "don't you like being around your peers?"


"Not really, they're not very nice," Allie said.


She was 10. This was likely the last birthday party she'd be invited to, as once kids became teenagers, their parents were a lot more lenient in who they made come to their parties and who they didn't. She figured, if nothing else, this was her final chance to eat cake and come away with a favor bag full of candy and puzzles. As the car came to a complete stop and Allie got out, she could hear the sounds of the kids in the backyard, and her eyes scanned upwards over the fence, spotting the roof of a bouncy castle behind the house. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all, she thought.


"I'll be back around 4 to pick you up, okay?" her mom asked, getting out and walking around the car to Allie, leaning down and kissing her forehead, "I love you, I just want you to try and get along with the other kids, that's all. Just try, okay?"


"Okay," Allie mumbled, as her mom watched her walk up to the front door. Once the door opened and the birthday girls mother had ushered her into the house, Allie turned and watched her mother drive away through the window, before following the birthday girls mom into the kitchen.


"You can put the gift on that table there," she said, pointing to a table absolutely overwhelmed with boxes covered in wrapping paper and bows, adding, "would you like something to drink?"


"No thank you," Allie said.


"We have fruit punch, we have soda, what do you want?" the mom asked, and Allie shrugged.


"Do you just have lemonade?" she asked, and the mom nodded, pulling a pitcher from the fridge and pouring her a glass, which she kindly took after thanking her and headed into the backyard with.


It was an absolute madhouse out here. Just as she'd expected it to be, really. Some kids were playing with water guns, other kids were in the bounce house, and some where playing fairly standard carnival games like beanbag toss. This kids mom had really gone all out, and it made Allie somewhat annoyed that she'd never done anything this spectacular for any of her own birthdays, but she also didn't have any real friends, so who knows how fun it'd have been with just her and her parents. She loved her parents, she loved spending time with them, but still. As she strolled across the lawn, sipping her lemonade from the paper cup covered in vaguely legal off model characters from a popular IP, she couldn't help but notice that she didn't see the birthday girl anywhere.


Allie sat down on the swingset in the backyard, and soon heard the creak of the other swing beside her being sat on as well. She glanced over and saw a teenager, maybe seventeen, sitting there and eating a piece of cake. She was dressed nicely, with a top hat and a cape.


"This is delicious, but I can't imagine it's a good idea to give this much sugar to children," the girl said, making Allie laugh.


"Why are you in a costume?" Allie asked, pointing at her top hat.


"I'm the magician," the girl said, "I'm The Marvelous Marcie. It's just something I do for fun and to earn some extra money. Do you like magic?"


"Magic is cool, yeah," Allie replied.


Marvelous Marcie set her now empty plate on the grass, reached into her pockets and pulled out a deck of cards. She then shuffled them, grinning at Allie - who appeared enraptured - the entire time, and then held them out to her. Allie picked a card, looked at it and then slid it back into the deck, which Marvelous Marcie shuffled once again. After she was finished, she picked a card and held it up.


"Is this your card?" she asked, and Allie shook her head; Marvelous Marcie glanced at the card and sighed, "Drats," she said, "What about this one?" she asked, reaching forward and taking a card from inside Allie's shirt pocket. Allie's eyes widened at the trick, making Marvelous Marcie grin.


"How did you..." Allie began.


"Can't tell ya, kiddo," Marvelous Marcie said, tossing her bangs from her face, "but you can learn to do it too. It won't make you the coolest kid in school or anything, by any means, but it'll at least make you the most interesting person at a party, plus you'll likely get paid to do it a lot."


As Marvelous Marcie grabbed her plate from the grass and stood up, she smiled at Allie and headed back inside the house, leaving Allie to wonder at the mysteries of magic, something that now, even as an adult, still marveled her. Most adults lose their sense of curiosity, but if Allie could be grateful for anything in her life, it was that she still was capable of enjoying things like simple card tricks. After she finished drinking her lemonade, the kids all gathered back inside to watch the birthday girl blow out her candles, open her presents, and then the lot of them headed into the living room to play board games.


Allie, however, opted to instead spend this time sitting in the kitchen, watching as Marvelous Marcie helped the birthday girls mother clean things up. This was more welcoming to her, she felt. A mother and magic. The two things she loved most in life.


                                                                            ***


"You need to get out of bed," Effie said, pulling the curtains back on the large window in Allie's penthouse bedroom, then turning to look at her; she put her hands on her hips and shook her head, "You look like hot garbage. Where's that kid you've got helping you?"


"No idea...what...what time is it?" Allie asked, pushing her messy knotted hair from her face.


"It is almost 3pm," Effie said.


"How'd you even get in here?"


"You gave me a key, remember?" Effie asked, walking to the closet and opening it, beginning to pull things out, "Christ, you really need help. I thought you were quitting drinking."


"I am, I'm not drunk and I didn't drink at all last night," Allie said, "I'm just extremely tired. I haven't been sleeping well, I think it's these goddamned painkillers. Also it's weird not having someone in bed with me."


"There's people you can hire to rectify that situation," Effie said, smirking, "This is Vegas, girl, get you some."


Allie chuckled as she swung her legs over the side of the bed and sighed, rubbing her eyes with her palms as Effie continued to dig through her closet.


"Anyway, you asked me to come get you if you ever slept past noon, so here I am. Sorry I couldn't be here sooner, I had a gig this afternoon. But you need to get dressed, something's come up. What the hell is this?" she asked, pulling out a cape from the closet and holding it up, forcing Allie to scramble across the room and take it from her.


"Don't touch that!" she said, "That's very special!"


"Sorry, geez," Effie said, backing away.


Allie held the cape in her hands and ran its fabric against her face, her eyes shutting. She had forgotten it was in there. She thought she'd put it in the storage unit ages ago, but no, here it was, just as nice as it'd always been. Just seeing it brought back a wave of memories, and she smiled. This cape...this cape meant everything to her.


                                                                           ***


"You don't wanna go play a game with the other kids?" Marvelous Marcie asked as she dried her hands on a small towel, looking at Allie sitting at the kitchen table. Allie shook her head and dug her hand back into the chip bowl.


"I don't really like the other kids," Allie said, "I don't know, they think I'm weird."


"But weird is cool, and eventually your peers will come around to realize that and regret not being your friend. Least that's what I have to tell myself, otherwise I was just a friendless loser," Marvelous Marcie said, making Allie laugh; she continued, "that's what's so great about magic. You hold all the cards, literally, as to their interest. You draw them in, you keep them there, you make them impressed and respect you. Life is all about misdirection, just like magic. You lie and you lie and you get people to believe those lies so they'll like you."


"But lying is bad, isn't it?" Allie asked and Marvelous Marcie shrugged.


"Sure, if it's about big things that hurt people, but not when it comes to being a person other people might be remotely interested in knowing, then it's fine," Marvelous Marcie said, unfastening the clip around her cape and pulling it off, looking at it, "everyone in the world creates a persona, someone they think will fit in better with society than who they actually are, because we're all too afraid to let others truly know us. That's all being a magician is. Putting on a face. Impressing others with the most minimal of abilities."


"...can you do magic for a living?" Allie asked, "Like, as a real job?"


"Sure, if you go somewhere like Vegas," Marvelous Marcie said, "But certainly not in a suburb. I'm only doing this to earn money for college. I mean, don't get me wrong, I like doing it, but it's...it's really not a viable way to make a living outside of being an over the top Vegas magician."


Just then the birthday girls mother came back into the kitchen and looked at Marvelous Marcie.


"You know," she said, "It's almost 3. Don't you have another show to get to?" she asked, and Marvelous Marcie checked her watch and gritted her teeth.


"Shoot, you're right, thank you for telling me," she said, grabbing her car keys and heading out of the kitchen before turning back and putting the cape around Allie's neck, clasping it shut in front of her throat and patting her shoulders, smiling, saying, "take my cape, it just gets in the way, and remember...the best trick isn't fooling others, but fooling yourself."


And with that, the Marvelous Marcie walked out of Allie's life.


Allie would ask for a magic kit for her 11th birthday, and she'd get it. Marvelous Marcie had put a bug in her heart that she'd spend the rest of her life chasing, and eventually she'd succeed in ways Marvelous Marcie likely never would've expected. But that's what Allie was good at, really, if her relationship with her parents and Nick had taught her anything.


Subverting expectations.


                                                                          ***


"You ok, man?" Effie asked, sitting on the bed beside Allie, rubbing her back.


"...I'm...I'm sorry, this just means a lot to me," Allie whispered, keeping the cape held close to her chest, "it was what made me want to do magic. It's very....it's very important."


"I get it," Effie said, "but seriously, you need to get up. I found some clean clothes you can pick from."


Effie stood up and gathered up the handful of clothes for Allie to wear, but as she turned back, she saw Allie was still sitting on the bed, looking at the cape in her lap, running her hands over it repeatedly.


"Didn't you ever have, like, a person change the course of your life?" Allie asked, and Effie shrugged.


"Sure, the first time I heard stand up I realize it was what I wanted to do," Effie said.


"Exactly, so you get it," Allie said, "You get what it's like to have someone influence you in such a way that it completely alters the future that you'll have. That's what this cape represents to me. I wore it when my cousin and I originally performed together, but not since Tony found me. But I still keep it close, keep it around, so I'm reminded that there even when it feels like there's no magic in the world, you can make some yourself."


"That's...really beautiful, honestly," Effie said, plopping the clothes down on the bed beside Allie and smiling, "I'm glad you have something that brings you such a level of comfort. Most I've got is my ex and a the first stand up Vinyl record I heard."


Allie chuckled as she stood up and started to get dressed.


"So why did you barge in here and wake me up to begin with? You say I have to go somewhere?" Allie asked as she pulled her blouse down over her head.


"Uh, yeah," Effie said, leaning against the closet door, tapping her feet, "Actually, when they couldn't get a hold of you, the girl from the zoo called me instead. Um, we need to get out there as soon as possible, really, so if you could hurry up and get dressed that'd be great, because I don't know exactly how much time we have."


"...what do you mean?" Allie asked, now eyeing Effie suspiciously.


"...the tiger's been sold," Effie said.


"...what?" Allie asked, feeling all the life leave her body, "my..they're selling my tiger? To who?!"


"She didn't give me any other details other than the zoo is unloading a handful of animals to another person, and they're among one of them," Effie said, "Look, I don't know much, alright? So don't go hounding me for information, I only know what she told me."


Allie finished getting dressed, then quickly called Nick and told him to meet her there. As the girls headed out of the penthouse and down the stairs, they ran into Zoe coming up.


"Where are you going?" Zoe asked, "I was just coming upstairs to look for you."


"I have an errand to run," Allie said, grabbing her arm and leading her back down the stairs with herself and Effie, adding, "and you're coming with me."


                                                                            ***


"Did you know that some magicians work with big cats?" Allie asked her mom once, to which her mother barely acknowledged as she dug through the fridge for ingredients for dinner; Allie continued, "They use tigers and lions and all kinds of other animals but mostly big cats! Do you think I could ever work with a big cat?"


"Anything's possible baby," her mother said.


Allie looked at the booklet that came with her VHS tape and smiled, seeing a man and a woman - magician and assistant - working with a bengal tiger.


"I'm gonna work with a big cat," Allie whispered.

Published on

"Ma'am? I'm going to need you to stay with me, if you can, just for a moment," the man said as he loaded Allie into the back of the ambulance, "Ma'am? Can you hear me?"


Allie nodded, her eyes staring off into space, her lips moving to whisper, "...it hurts so much."


"I know and we're going to get you to the hospital and get you fixed up pronto, I just need you to not lose consciousness yet before I give you this sedative," he said, popping a needle out of a hanging IV in the back of the ambulance and wiping the tip down with a swab, "Miss Meers? Can you do me a favor?"


"What?"


"I want you to count to five, okay? If you could just count to five, you'll be alright, and then you can pass out," the man said, "It's an old trick someone taught me in medical school. It's supposed to confuse your brain, redirect its efforts to something else so it doesn't focus primarily on the shock your body is going through. Can you do that for me?"


Allie nodded, as he patted her shoulder and smiled. She started counting down backwards, her eyes getting heavier with every number as she felt the tip of the needle slip into her arm.


"1...2...3...4...5..."


   ***


Zoe was sitting in her bed at home, staring at the posters on her wall, most of assorted Vegas acts.


All she'd ever wanted to do since she first saw Allie Meers was perform with her, and now she was being given her chance, and she was terrified to take it. Her bedroom opened and Thea stood there, looking at her sister as she sipped her coffee, leaning against the doorframe.


"Why aren't you up?" she asked.


"Nervous," Zoe said, her voice shaky, her fingers fidgeting, "just...unable to get up the guts to go in. Supposed to practice today for the boss, supposed to give, like, a performance, and I just...I worry I'm not going to be able to make Miss Meers confident in my abilities."


"I'm sure it'll be fine, but you can't just stay in bed all day," Thea said, "Remember? That was part of the agreement. I'd let you stay here if you continued to try and get better. Now get up, put some pants on and I'll drive you, okay? We'll stop and get breakfast somewhere fast and easy."


"...I could go for some greasy hashbrowns," Zoe said, smiling a little now as her sister nodded.


"Atta girl," she replied.


After Zoe had gotten dressed, she and Thea climbed into Thea's car and started heading towards Card Shark. They stopped by a burger place and got their breakfast platter, before parking in the Card Shark lot and eating breakfast. As Zoe sipped her soda and Thea bit into her tiny flapjacks, Zoe couldn't help but feel like her sister was really trying to help her, and she appreciated her so much for it.


"...thanks," Zoe mumbled, "for, you know, caring about me."


"You're a pain in my ass, but you're a pain in MY ass, so it's my duty to care about you," Thea said, chewing noisily and then taking a sip of coffee, before exhaling and adding, "but, we did have a deal, okay? Remember that. I need you to keep your end of the bargain up. You've been doing well, but I need you to really follow through, alright?"


"I know, I'm sorry."


"I know you get nervous, I get nervous too. I think we get it from dad," Thea said, "but I'm here, and it seems like this Allie Meers is trying to be your friend from what you've told me, and that sounds good. Just don't give up, okay?"


"Okay," Zoe said, smiling as she climbed out of the car and said bye to her sister, heading into the casino.


Once inside, she spotted Allie at a slot machine, playing mindlessly, pulling the crank every handful of seconds. Zoe stopped by her machine and sat down on a stool, watching her. She'd never really seen Allie just...relax. She'd seen her drunk, passed out, but actually genuinely relax? This was a first, and she was also finding herself hard pressed to consider this "relaxing". She sipped her soda, then handed it to Allie, who happily declined her offer and instead held up a martini glass on the top of the slot machine.


"This early?" Zoe asked.


"What else I have going for me?" Allie asked.


"I thought you were trying to slow down."


"I am, and this is slowing down. I could be four drinks in already. I'm just nursing this one," Allie said, "I'd say for a crippling alcoholic that that's pretty good."


Zoe giggled as Allie pumped quarter after quarter into the slot machine. After a few minutes of people watching, Zoe turned back to Allie and slid her hand into her hoodie pocket, pulling another hashbrown out and biting into it, catching Allie's attention.


"Did you just pull a fried potato out of your pocket?" she asked, "you're like a genie. I want one."


"Heyo," a voice said, as a woman with short brown hair and wearing a suit leaned against the slot machine, "How much are you down this morning?"


"No idea," Allie said, "I started with four cups worth of quarters and now I'm down to this one half, so...not good? What are you doing here? Didn't you have a morning show?"


"Are you kidding? Nobody comes to see a comedian in the morning," the woman said, before grinning at Zoe and waving at her sweetly, "Hiya, I'm Effie Stonem. Who're you? Allie's sponsor?" she asked, nudging Allie in the ribs and winking, making Allie laugh mockingly.


"I'm Zoe, I'm Allie's new partner," Zoe said, "I think I've seen you on TV."


"Unlikely," Allie said, "You have to be talented to be on television."


"Hey, come on, you know that's not true," Effie said, the three of them chuckling, "Yeah, you probably have seen me on television. I get some short gigs now and then on the comedy network. You got a partner? Like how your cousin used to be?"


"Yes," Allie said, clamming up at the thought of that.


Why did everyone in this casino know her personal business? Was she that much of a talkative drunk? She really needed to learn to keep her mouth shut from now on if she didn't want to be constantly reminded of things that hurt her so deeply so regularly.


        ***


"Can you grip this?" Nick asked, as he helped Allie out of her wheelchair and in between the two bars on both sides of her. She locked her fingers of her working hand around one, but struggled to do so with the other, and winced, wanting to cry.


"God, it hurts so much," she whispered, her eyes stinging with tears.


"Okay, okay, it's alright," Nick said, as he helped her back to his couch in the apartment, adding as he stroked her hair, "Hey, it's alright, you'll make progress, okay? It's going to take some time, but you'll make progress, I promise."


He leaned in, listening, as she mumbled under her breath.


"What are you doing?" he asked, "Are you counting?"


"When they came to get me off the stage," Allie said, "this guy in the ambulance, he told me to count to give, because it distracts your brain momentarily from the pain. It's been a pretty useful tactic during this session of physical therapy, let me assure you."


"Huh, I think I remembering being taught that but I don't think I ever actually attempted it myself or offered it as a solution to anyone," Nick said, leaning back on the couch, "...it actually works?"


"I mean, only momentarily, like I said," Allie replied, "but yeah, it does. It at least buys me a few minutes of peace if nothing else. Now I just use it for whenever I feel remotely scared or anxious or nervous. I just...shut my eyes and count to five."


And she'd been doing it ever since.


            ***


"Are you ready?" Allie asked, watching Zoe pace in her outfit in Allie's penthouse as they prepared to head down to the stage for their solo performance for Tony. Zoe, clearly, was not ready, and Allie could all but tell this from just a single glance. Zoe was wearing the old outfit Allie herself had once worn, but it wasn't doing much to calm her down. Allie sighed, finished lacing up her boot and walked to Zoe, putting her hands on her shoulders and making her face her.


"Listen to me," Allie said, "Here's a little trick someone taught me in an ambulance once. I want you to count to five. Just take a deep breath and count to five. It will make your brain be distracted momentarily and clear your head so you can calm down, okay? It alleviates some of the fear. Can you do that for me, partner?"


"O...okay," Zoe replied, shutting her eyes and, inhaling deeply, began counting out loud, "1...2...3...4...5..."


After she finished, she opened her eyes and looked at Allie, still standing in front of her.


"That didn't really work."


"Well, maybe you have to be under extreme duress. To be fair, when he taught it to me, my wrist was barely attached to my arm, so," Allie said, thinking before snapping her fingers and pointing at Zoe, "I got it! I could break your arm!"


"That...seems a bit unnecessary," Zoe replied, trying not to laugh.


"Hey, I'm just trying to help," Allie said, shrugging, the both of them laughing now as Allie patted Zoe's back and said, "See? It did kind of help you distract yourself in a way, didn't it?"


"It actually did, yes, thank you," Zoe said.


"Well, partner, let's go get 'em," Allie said, opening the penthouse door leading to the hallway.


 ***


Shortly after Nick left her, Allie found herself in the penthouse, alone.


She was afraid to be alone. She was always afraid that something bad would happen to her whenever she had the time to be alone. Like perhaps she'd have a stroke, or a heart attack, or finally simply take one too many painkillers and did herself in before anyone could find and help her. Not that she'd want to be helped, to be fair...and it wasn't that she didn't like being alone. That was a whole other thing entirely. She was not one of those people who thinks other people need social contact, no, she thrived by herself. But she was afraid of it, at least, simply because she thought something may harm her if she were alone.


So Allie paced, and she drank, and she paced and drank some more, and she got undressed to just her underwear and she played the baby grand piano in the penthouse sloppily, slurring her words to whatever Billy Joel sound she could conjure up from her mind.


It wasn't until she found herself opening the window in the penthouse that gazed down at the busy Vegas streets below, and climbing onto the ledge that she realized just how sad she really was. She wanted to walk off. Not jump. No. That was too much of a spectacle and she didn't deserve that attention. No, she wanted to merely walk off. She wanted it all to be over. She wanted Nick back, and she knew that she had a pill problem, and a drinking problem, and that she was barely capable of containing them, and that she was on the verge of losing her lifelong dream, and that this might be one of the last nights she spends in this penthouse, a penthouse she's come to call home, even if it's never felt much like home.


But instead, she climbed back through, closed the window, leaned against it...


...and she counted to five.


                                                                            ***


Tony was impressed, he couldn't deny it.


If Allie was still doing as poorly as she had been, it didn't come across in their performance for him. In fact, she seemed more with it and together than she had in ages, and he chocked that up to the mere fact that she had someone to prop up in the act with her. She'd always done better with her cousin, he'd known, so putting her with someone else was a no brainer. Afterwards, while Zoe and Allie drank small glasses of wine he offered them as he lit a cigar for himself, the girls couldn't feel more proud. Tony sat at his desk and smiled.


"You guys were killer, and I think this is going to work out well," he said, "I'm glad to see you're getting along as well as you are."


"Miss Meers is an excellent tutor," Zoe said.


"I think with you two together, it will bring the quality of not just the act up obviously but also the audience. Magic's hurtin', it's hurtin' bad, as I'm sure you're aware. Vegas magic isn't competing as well as it used to, but I think you ladies are talented enough to stay afloat and-"


The door opened and someone summoned Tony out of his office, saying he was needed for a moment. He groaned and stood up, exiting.


"I'll be right back, pardon me ladies," he said, shutting the door behind him as he left.


"...you know," Zoe said, her voice shaky, "I thought you were going to betray me. I thought you were going to be one of those stars who...who says 'you can be here but just stay out of my way', but you're actually not that way at all. You seem to want to help me have a career as much as I want to help be a part of yours. I'm so glad, because you...you were, like, such an inspiration to me as a kid."


"God, don't say that, that makes me feel old, I'm not that much older than you," Allie said, laughing and rubbing her face with her hand, "but...you're welcome, Zoe. I remember what it was like, being that loser kid who was interested in magic, especially if you were a girl. That's bully city right there. We have to stick together, not just as women, but as magicians. If I can't count on you, who can I count on?"


Allie meant this, she did, but she also knew it was somewhat of a lie. She knew Zoe would go to the ends of the earth for her. She knew Zoe would never leave her side. She knew Zoe was 100% dependent on her. She liked that power, and she liked knowing she could have Zoe help her with anything because of the power she wielded over her.


Not that she'd want to go down that road, but hero worship is a disgusting thing, and an even easier thing to use to ones advantage. But, despite that, Allie was actually trying to be a better person. She wanted to get sober. She wanted to stop the pills. She wanted to clean up her act - figuratively and literally - and she wanted to help Zoe create her own. She did actually like the kid, after all.


After the meeting, when Allie found herself alone again that night, she took all the alcohol in the penthouse minifridge and she poured it down the drain, except for a small bottle of expensive whiskey that Tony had given her as a gift for the holidays. Standing there, her hands gripping the counter as she watched it all disappear down the drain, she looked at the pills to her right and she shook her head. No. Not tonight. If Zoe was going to help her, she'd need to help Zoe, and that started with being remotely stable. So instead, Allie did the next best thing. She took a deep breath.


1...2...3...4...5...

Published on
The banging had started again, just like the last few weeks, waking every dog in the neighborhood, cajoling them into fits of barking, filling the night sky with frustrated howls. Melanie groaned, sat up out of bed, put her tiara back into her hair and opened the window, leaning out to see where the noise was coming from. Same place as always...Paul. She crossed her arms on the windowsill and yawned.

"What time is it?" she asked, as Paul stopped his banging and looked up at her.

"6:30 in the morning, I didn't wake you, did I?" he asked, and she smiled sweetly, shaking her head.

"What're you building anyway?" she asked as Paul continued to hammer.

"I'm building an Ark," he replied.

"Why?"

"Because he told me to."

Melanie squinted, a bit confused. She stretched and stood up a bit straighter now, rubbing her eyes.

"Who told you to?" Melanie asked.

"Do you believe in angels, your highness?" he asked, and she nodded.

"I believe in some sort of higher power, some sort of power that guides us along a path of eventual..." Melanie said, stopping and scratching her head as Paul set his hammer down and looked up at her, hands on his hips.

"Destruction?" he asked, and she laughed.

"No, that's not it," she replied.

"Redemption?"

"A path of...like, understanding, you know? It'll show us what we're supposed to do, so if this power tells you to build an ark, then you build an ark! It told me to find my kingdom, and that's exactly what I'm going to do! So what's the plan with this ark once it's done?" Melanie asked, checking the clock beside her on the desk.

"Well, hopefully it'll be done before the flood," Paul said, picking his hammer back up, "I'll save you a throne, if you wish."

The Ark now sat completed, over a year later, in Paul's backyard. And on this very day, the day that would forever change Melanie Irres life, it would in fact be proven useful. Paul wasn't wrong. A Storm was indeed coming, and his ark would be there to save lives.

Just turns out it wouldn't be Melanie who needed the spot within it.

                                                                                             ***

Leah Wilkerson was having a decent enough morning.

She had gotten her coffee with ease, managed to get a good breakfast in, and was now sitting in her office trying to fill out paperwork for potentially upcoming clients for psychiatric evaluation. Her hair pinned back, her nails painted well, she felt more put together than she had in ages, and it was nice. She didn't need a therapist, she was her own therapist. As she scribbled something down, taking another sip of coffee, she heard her office door knocked on heavily, and she glanced up from her desk towards it across the room. The door was locked - Leah always locked her office door in the mornings - so whoever it was couldn't get it, but she was still curious what they could want. So, Leah stood up and strolled across the room, unlocking it and opening it just a tad to see Melanie's face on the other side.

"Miss Irres, what are you doing here?" she asked.

"I need help," Melanie said, "Can I come in please?"

"...well, I have an appointment in two hours, but, sure, you can come in," Leah said, opening the door further, allowing Melanie inside; Leah continued, "this is highly unusual, as I don't normally let people without appointments in to speak with me, but since I'm a friend of Emma's I'll make an exception. What's going on? Do you need a referral for something?"

"I need..." Melanie said, wringing her hands together, "I need help," she repeated.

Leah looked Melanie up and down. She was soaked, likely from the rain outside, and her eyes were red, like she'd been crying or rubbing them for hours. Leah leaned against her desk and motioned for Melanie to take a seat on the couch, which she did.

"Are you alright, Melanie? You don't look very good. Do you want me to call someone?" Leah asked.

"I have to lick your outlet," Melanie said, taking Leah by surprise.

"Ex...excuse me?" she asked, almost laughing.

"I have to lick your outlet," Melanie repeated, "I'm sorry but I don't have the time to explain."

This...was going to be an interesting day for Leah Wilkerson.

                                                                                                  ***

"It's very sweet of you to get Melanie a gift," Emma said, looking at the box Darren had put in her lap in the car; she continued, "Gus told me she hasn't been doing too well. She moved in with him for a bit until she feels her apartment in safe again, which I completely understand, but he says she's an absolute nervous wreck, like she's on the verge of a total breakdown."

"I would expect no less after what she's been through," Darren said, "She needs to know we care about her. I'm not going to hold what happened to me against her, it wasn't her fault. That girl was unhinged. I'm just glad everyone got out of it okay."

Emma smiled and laid her head on his shoulder as he drove. She hadn't been this happy with him in so long, and it felt great to be close to him again. She knew he was right...easy as it would've been to blame Melanie, it wasn't fair. After all, she had enough to deal with as it was.

"So what'd you get her?" Emma asked.

"Wouldn't you like to know," Darren replied, smirking.

As they pulled up to the apartment complex, they could see Gus sitting on the steps outside with Bea, her drinking an ale and him drinking a soda, a bag of chips open in front of them, and an umbrella propped up overhead. Darren parked and got out, Emma following him, as they approached Gus and Bea.

"Hey," Gus said, "What're you two doin' here?"

"We're here to see Melanie," Darren said, "I have a gift for her."

"Well, that's a shame, cause she ain't here," Gus said, "She took off like an hour ago. Didn't say where she was going or when she'd be back, just that she was going somewhere to do something really important."

"What are you two doing outside? It's, like, going to storm," Emma said, pulling her coat up tighter around her.

"We know, we like this weather," Bea remarked, grabbing chips from the bag and eating them noisily, "It makes everything really peaceful."

Just then an enormous crack of thunder was heard overhead, startling Emma, who grabbed Darren's arm tightly, making him wince. Gus and Bea grabbed their things and started to head inside, while Darren and Emma headed back to the car.

"Well, this stinks," Darren said.

"We'll come back," Emma replied.

"uh," Darren said, tugging on the door handle, "...that's...not good. I think I locked us out of the car."

"What?" Emma asked, sounding annoyed, "It's about to start really pouring and you locked us out of the car?!"

"It was an accident, christ, pardon me for screwing up," Darren shouted.

"Hey!" they heard a voice shout from behind them. As they turned to see the house beside the complex, they spotted a man standing there, waving his arms in his rain slicker; he continued, "You folks need some coverage? You can come over here!"

Emma and Darren knew they had no other option, so they hustled on over to the yard and followed the man past the fence and towards his backyard.

"This is supposed to be the worst storm this city's seen in years," the man said, "I'm Paul, by the way. Hear you were friends of the princess. I am too, and you're totally welcome to wait here for her until she gets back, or til the storm passes by, whichever."

"That's very nice, thank you," Emma said.

"Just climb inside and you'll be safe!" Paul said, holding his arms out in pride, gesturing to the ark.

"...you've gotta be fucking kidding me," Emma muttered.

                                                                                                  ***

"You need to lick...my outlet?" Leah repeated, leaning against her desk, "Melanie, can you give me a sensible reason as to why you'd need to lick my outlet? I mean, first of all, it's dangerous, not to mention unsanitary, so you're going to have to really manage to convince me why I should let you do such a thing."

"There's a storm," Melanie whispered, "a really bad storm, and a man told me I had to do it to save us from the storm. I had to save you from the storm. He told me that...that I had to...that you'd be really important to me getting better, and that-"

"Who told you this? Are you taking your medication?"

"Yes, but it...it isn't working well," Melanie said, something Leah could clearly see; she added, "but he told me to save you from the storm. I woke up this morning and he was in my friends bathroom with me, and he said 'Melanie, there's a huge storm on the way, and your therapist is going to be in danger, and if you ever want a real shot at getting better, you have to rescue her and lick her power outlet'."

"...I....don't even know how to respond to that," Leah said, "This man, did he have a name?"

"His name is Allen."

"Allen...isn't that the man you said moved into the building recently?" Leah asked, picking up a pad of paper and starting to write things down.

"He isn't real," Melanie replied, surprising Leah, "he isn't real, but he...he tells me things. He shows me things about...about me and my father, and...and now he's telling me to help you and I can't ignore him."

"You have to ignore him," Leah said, setting the pad and pen back down, approaching Mel and kneeling on the floor so they were eye level; she put her hands on Mel's shoulders and smiled, saying, "You can and you will ignore him, because he isn't real, as you said. Melanie, clearly the medication, the therapy...none of it is working. At least not how it's intended to, and I really didn't want to suggest this but it seems you're having a complete break from reality, so I feel if I don't suggest it you may harm yourself by accident. I think you need real care from highly trained professionals. There's a nice mental home up in Lakeview, I used to intern there, and I know the head of staff. I can get you in no problem, and those people can really help you manage to discern reality from fantasy. I want you to get better-"

"I want to get better too," Melanie said, crying now, "I do! But first I have to lick your outlet."

"Melanie, just listen to me, you're sick, and you know you're sick, but you just said it yourself...YOU want to get better, and that's fantastic. I can help you do that, okay? Just stay here, I'm going to make a call to the hospital and see if I can get you in for a consultation as soon as tomorrow, alright? I'll be right back."

Leah stood up and headed out of the room, leaving the door open as she exited. She walked to her assistants desk and began thumbing through her rolodex, realizing she'd taken her own home for reorganizing and hadn't brought it back in yet. As she looked for the hospital's number, Melanie watched, but her eyes soon glided towards the wall across the office, to the outlet by the desk. She felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up to see Allen standing beside her.

"If you want to get better, if you want to go to the hospital, and if you want this woman to continue being here to help you...you have to do it," he said, "It's the only way."

Melanie nodded, stood up and began heading across the room. She stopped dead center in the middle of the office and noticed Leah was staring at her from the other side of the door, phone to her ear. They were caught in a battle of wills, until Melanie glanced back at the outlet, and then raced towards the door. Leah dropped the phone, letting it hang as she too lunged towards her office door.

"Melanie!" she shouted.

"I'm sorry!" Melanie screamed, shutting the door and locking it, as Leah began banging away.

"Melanie, open this door right now! This is not okay! You cannot be in there alone!" she yelled, but Melanie tuned her out and headed across the room, knelt in front of the wall near the desk, and looked at the power outlet.

"...i want to get better," she whispered, as she stuck her tongue out and pressed it against the power outlet, holding herself there for a few minutes until all the power to the building shut down, all the lights went out and the only two people in the building - Melanie and Leah - were engulfed in absolute darkness. There was only the lightning strikes to brighten up the rooms through the windows, which helped Leah head down the hall until she found a fire extinguisher and carried it back to the door, where she began beating on the old doorknob until it finally fell off. Leah pushed her office door open, and rushed over to Melanie, still at the wall, tugging her away from it.

"Melanie!" she shouted, "that was so incredibly dangerous! You can never do that again!"

But Melanie, lying in Leah's lap, smiling up at her, merely replied with, "...you're welcome."

                                                                                                  ***

"This is creepy," Emma said, shivering as she got closer to Darren in the ark, "...I'm sorry I yelled at you about the car keys, I know it was an accident."

"It's fine," Darren said, kissing the side of her head, "I know things have been rough lately."

"So what did you get her?" Emma asked, looking at the box.

Darren smiled and looked at his shoes, "...uh...it's a collection of old medieval stories, very old, that was signed by some of the authors and illustrators. I..."

Emma looked at Darren, who sighed and scratched his head.

"I don't know how to explain this but...remember when we came back from the ren faire? And we took her home? You were asleep but she was telling me about her dad and...I don't know, Em, I feel very protective of her. Like...like she's a surrogate child or something. I know you don't want children and I don't want to fight with you on that anymore, because I want to be with you more than I want a family, but with Mel, it's like...she needs a father, and even though we're about the same age, I feel like I can sort of be that for her."

"You know we only know her because she had the hots for you, right?" Emma asked, laughing, "This is kind of creepy."

"Shut up," Darren said, laughing, "God! Besides, we now know that was misplaced emotions, given how she's been lately. I feel like I can help her, be that kind of father figure she needs, but...I don't know, maybe I'm being ridiculous."

"I think that's really admirable, honestly," Emma said, taking his hand in hers and kissing it, "I really do. She's...turned our life inside out, but...in kind of the best way? It's weird."

"We could stand to be turned inside out," Darren said, making Emma nod.

"This is an impressive piece of work," Emma said, tapping her feet on the ark, looking up at Paul, "How long did this take you to make?"

"Over a year, ma'am," Paul said, "and you're not wrong about the princess. She needs all the help she can get. What you two are doing is very kind, and I can assure you that she appreciates it deeply."

Darren and Emma glanced at one another and smiled, as she leaned up and kissed his cheek. They could hear the rain pattering down around the ark, and yet no water got inside. Paul had truly built a decent shelter, and they were grateful to be away from the storm. Melanie, on the other hand, wasn't as lucky. She had weathered the storm head on, and had come away broken because of it.

                                                                                               ***

"It's letting up but I wouldn't recommend driving yet," the fireman said to Leah as they stood outside, an ambulance behind them. Leah glanced back over her shoulder at Melanie, sitting in the back of the ambulance, a blanket wrapped tightly around her.

"Is she okay?" Leah asked.

"She seems fine," the fireman said, "lucid enough, not in any pain, I don't think she got electrocuted."

"I still don't understand why she-"

"Actually, as it turns out your buildings power was exceptionally flaky. There was an old antenna on the roof that could've easily been struck by lightning, which had that happened, would've potentially caught the old wires within the building on fire from so much electricity coursing through them. She did the right thing. She shorted everything out with what she did and kept you guys from going up in flames."

Leah was speechless. She thanked the fireman and then started to walk towards the ambulance. As she approached, Melanie looked up from her cup of coffee at Leah and sighed.

"I guess I'm going to the hospital now," Melanie whispered.

"Melanie," Leah said, taking her free hand in her own, "I am going to help you. I am going to help you get better. Being self aware of your illness is the first step and wanting to grow from it is the second. There's no end to progress, you just keep making more progress, but I'm going to be the one who will help you do it, okay? You saved our lives."

"...i'm sorry," Melanie whispered, starting to cry, "i'm so sorry i'm so-"

"Don't even say it," Leah said, "don't. You're fine, no matter how you are. Now we're going to make you even better, okay? We'll take you up to the hospital, get you all checked in, get you a room and create a health plan for you to work from. I'm here with you, alright? Every step of the way, I am your therapist...and your friend, and I won't let you down."

Melanie smiled weakly, as she took the tiara off her head and handed it to Leah.

"Please hold onto this for me," she said softly, "It was from my dad. Just keep it safe until I can have it back."

Leah nodded as the ambulance driver shut the door to the back and got into the drivers seat, heading towards the hospital. Leah got into her car and sat there, looking at the tiara in her hands, feeling her eyes water up. She looked back up at the ambulance as it vanished into the rain and the grey fog, and knew she wouldn't stop until Melanie was better. That she swore to herself.

                                                                                                ***

"Name?"

"Melanie Irres."

"Age?"

"27."

"Reason for stay?"

Melanie and Leah looked at one another, and Leah patted her hand. Melanie cleared her throat.

"I'm mentally ill and I want to get better."

And just like that Melanie was given a room at the mental home, where she'd be able to learn and grow, and come into her own. Gus and Bea would stop by from time to time, and she had therapy with Leah three times a week. Leah insisted she was the only one to treat Melanie with therapy, something Melanie had absolutely no qualms with. But it wasn't until a few weeks in that Darren finally showed his face. He was let into Melanie's room, the man outside telling him he to let him know when he was done, before giving them their privacy. Melanie was sitting on her bed, in her white pants and shirt - the outfit they gave everyone here - as Darren sat on the bed and scratched his forehead.

"...it's been a while since we've seen you," Darren said, "I'm sorry I didn't come sooner, I feel shitty about it."

"It's okay Darren," Melanie said, her voice sounding clearer than it had in months, her eyes brighten than before; she was clearly already doing better, even if only a little; she continued, "thanks for coming now."

"Melanie, how are you doing?"

"I'm...okay. It's weird not having any autonomy, but...at the same time, it's allowing me to do a lot of self reflecting and learning about myself, and who I was. I'm sorry you got stabbed because of me," she said.

"I didn't get stabbed because of you, besides, it was worth it," Darren said, "hey, I wanted to give you something a while ago. but then, ya know."

"I know."

Darren reached into the backpack he'd brought and pulled out the gift, handing it to Melanie. She happily took it and unwrapped it as Darren also pulled out a box of chocolates and put them down beside her. She held the storybook in her hands and smiled at her before looking back up at Darren, smiling at him.

"This is wonderful," she said, "thank you so much."

"I figured, you know, you could use some escapism," Darren said, chuckling, "And I know obviously how much you like fairytales and stuff, so."

Melanie handed the book back to him, pulled her knees to her chest and opened the box of candy.

"Will you read me one?" she asked.

"...yeah, yeah sure," Darren said, picking the book up and clearing his throat, turning to the first story, "Once upon a time, in a far away land, there was a beautiful princess who lived in the biggest castle in the land..."

Progress, as Leah said, wasn't something with an end. But it had a continuous beginning, and that was something Melanie kept in mind. Something that helped her feel hopeful. Because she knew now that every single day was yet another day to start again, to get just a little bit better, and that was something that made her feel lucky. But she'd start on that tomorrow.

Today she just wanted to hear a story.
Published on
Why was someone knocking at Natasha's door? It was only...oh, it was 11. Natasha groaned as her hand left her bedside clock and she stumbled out of bed, pulling on sweatshirt and heading down the stairs. Violet must've gotten a ride to school with Courtney, as she wasn't home, and Natasha certainly hadn't gotten up to drive her. Why was she so tired lately? It didn't make sense. Now that she set her own schedule, did this mean she'd sleep later and later? Waste entire days? She didn't like that idea. Another knock at the door as Natasha reached the landing of the stairs.

"I'm coming, hold the hell on," she said loudly, approaching the door and undoing the locks, tugging it open to find Sharla on her porch; she squinted, making sure she wasn't imagining this, before asking, "...the hell do you want?"

"Wow, you're so approachable," Sharla said, "Can I come in?"

Natasha moved aside as Sharla entered and pushed a brown paper bag, full of breakfast foods from a nearby diner into her chest. Natasha followed Sharla into the kitchen, and watched as Sharla stood in the kitchen, admiring it.

"How are you in such good shape if you eat this kind of crap?" Natasha asked, rooting around in the bag blindly.

"I don't eat it, I brought it for you," Sharla said, "I had a shake."

"Your life must be miserable," Natasha replied, sticking a hashbrown in her mouth, "So what do you want?"

"Jay tells me you're starting an online show," Sharla said, "Not surprising, seeing how things went at the network. Are you interested in taking any other members on? Because I'd love to be a part of an online network, not hounded by Lawrence or his bullshit. I like the idea of owning my property, instead of renting my creativity to someone who doesn't do any of the work."

"Wow, bitchy," Nat said, chewing as she sat down on the kitchen table, "I suppose we could make that work. Did you get fired too?"

"No, I'm actively pursuing other avenues," Sharla said, "from what Jay tells me, what you two are cooking up sounds pretty appealing. The idea of making your own schedule, owning your work, being able to do or say whatever you want. Not that what I do requires such freedom, I just teach people how to live healthier, but it's still worth being my own boss for."

"You talk to Jay often?" Nat asked, furrowing her brow.

"Only when he comes into the building," Sharla said, leaning against the counter, "Why?"

"No reason, just didn't know he had any other friends," Nat said.

"I'm pretty sure you're the only one who has one friend," Sharla said, smirking, "but he admires you, he respects you, and I think his judgement is good enough for me. I'm willing to hedge my bets on your online work, if you're willing to let me."

"We don't even really like one another," Nat said, "Why would I do that?"

"I like you, when did you ever get the idea I didn't like you?" Sharla asked, "Do you not like me?"

"...I don't really like anyone, it's nothing personal," Nat said, "Having your marriage fall apart kind of destroys your faith in people."

"That's fair."

"We can talk about an arrangement, if you really want to, but I need Jay to be here to do that," Nat said, picking up her phone from the table, "Let me get him on the horn so he can get over here."

As Nat sat there, waiting for Jay to answer his phone, she noticed something else. A note left on the fridge door, in someone's handwriting that wasn't Violets. She stood up and walked towards the fridge, picking it off the fridge from the magnet and reading it. It was very pretty handwriting, and it looked fresh, so it had to be from that morning. It simply read, "Picked Violet up, gone to school, have a good day, Courtney."

"Hello?" Jay asked, finally picking up.

"It's Natasha, I need you to come over, we have a situation," she said, "and it's standing in my kitchen admiring my blender."

                                                                                               ***

Sitting on the floor of the school hallway, each checking their notes for the upcoming class, Violet and Courtney were both stressed out, each for their own reasons. Today was the day of The Test, the one most of the students feared taking, mostly because of how damaging it could be to their self esteem. Violet had never taken The Test before, she'd always been exempt, but this year she wanted to finally see it through, even if the results weren't what she wanted. Courtney, on the other hand, was terrified she'd do worse than she did the year before, but things had been so different back then, and maybe she'd feel more at ease this time around.

"Do you think," Courtney started, erasing something on her paper, "that you're really okay with this?"

"I have to be," Violet said, "I have to, you know, face uncomfortable things, right? Like, um, it...it isn't good to just...you know...avoid things, that...that make me feel bad. I have to do this."

Courtney smiled and rubbed Violet's back, nodding.

"Proud of you Vi, that's a really positive attitude," she said.

Violet smiled and continued focusing on her notes, as they waited for the bell to ring, signifying the time to take the test. She was proud of Violet, certainly, but Courtney couldn't help but worry that if things came out in a negative way that Violet wouldn't be upset, and the last thing she wanted was for her best friend to be upset. Especially about something like her mental faculties...

                                                                                                 ***

Sitting in the kitchen, Sharla and Jay were going over a contract of some kind while Natasha paced, continuing to eat from the bag Sharla had brought with her. She was listening, but only just barely, seeing as she trusted Jay to know what he was doing and trusted Sharla not to screw them. However, after a bit, Natasha sat back down at the table and looked at them.

"Does this mean you'd be my employee?" Nat asked, and Jay laughed.

"That isn't really how it works. We're all co-owners," Jay said, "That's how this works. Everyone who signs up at the start is going to be considered a 'founder' of the 'network'. This means we don't pay one another, we all get pay evenly distributed from what we make on the site through merchandise like t-shirts, mugs or whatever other miscellaneous stuff we can conjure up."

Nat nodded, glancing across the table at Sharla as Jay handed them each a pen and passed the papers between the three of them.

"Upon signing this, we're agreeing to be owners together, and we can only negotiate on this after the first year is up," Jay said, "If you're unsure of things, don't sign it. Otherwise, go nuts ladies."

With that, the three of them signed the papers and when Jay finished his signatures, he stacked them all back together, slipped them back into an envelope and put it back into a carrying case. He glanced between the women, both of whom shrugged.

"So," he said, "Who wants to get drunk to celebrate?"

"That's a great idea," Nat said, "I'm buying."

"I could go for a drink, sure," Sharla said.

                                                                                                  ***

Violet wanted to hide.

No, worse than hide, she wanted to disappear. She knew she had to take the test, she knew she had to confront that fear head on, but now that she'd been graded...god her insides were simultaneously churning and on fire. Sitting under the bleachers as it rained around her, she couldn't stop feeling sick, like she was going to throw up, until she heard the sound of someone climbing under the bleachers with her. Violet turned to see Courtney climbing under and settling down beside her.

"I take it it didn't go well..." Courtney said.

"See for yourself," Violet said, handing the paper to Courtney, who took it and read it over.

"...this is...unnecessarily mean," Courtney said, sounding surprised, "like, wow. They're recommending you leave most of your classes for slower learning classes. They're not even, like, trying to hide the fact that they have a low opinion of you."

"It isn't their opinion..." Violet said, sounding remarkably sure, "...it's more...they told me that, um, I was bringing down the grade point average of the school, and that...that I uh, I should, you know, do it so the school doesn't lose funding."

"...what?" Courtney asked, sounding genuinely disgusted now, "that's...just despicable, holy shit. Well, that's discrimination, and we can-"

"Maybe it's just easier."

"Accepting peoples preconceptions about you is not easier, it's simply letting them get away with having bigoted ideals and sends the message that they can treat everyone they view as different like that. You don't want this to happen to someone else, do you? You need to stop it when it starts with you," Courtney said, "I promise, I'll ask my dad and-"

"Courtney, I'm stupid, and I'm sick of pretending I'm not," Violet said, near tears as she grabbed her bag, her paper and got up, heading out from under the bleachers, "Please leave it alone."

As Courtney watched her friend rush away, she felt sick. All she wanted was for Violet to be happy with herself, and that would never happen at this school. At a place where everyone assumed she was dumb, and had now convinced her she was stupid as well. Courtney wouldn't just let them get away with this, she would find a way to make this right, and make Violet realize she was not stupid.

                                                                                               ***

"Holy shit," Jay said, sipping his beer, "It feels good to be an owner of something."

"You're telling me," Sharla said, "I've never really owned anything. Still paying for my car, still paying a mortgage, but at least I'll own my career now."

Natasha was sitting in the booth, turning her glass around and around, looking at the little umbrella in the top. Jay excused himself to go get another beer and some snacks from the bar, leaving Natasha and Sharla alone. Sharla swirled her straw around inside her cocktail and stirred her ice, then took a sip before opening her mouth.

"Aren't you happy?" Sharla asked.

"I...think I have a drinking problem," Nat said, "I didn't take my daughter to school today. I don't even remember last night. I was using alcohol as a way to cope with being left, but now I think it's become more than just a crutch. I'm worried, I guess."

"I can help you get sober, if you want," Sharla said, "I can be, like, your sponsor. Anytime you want to drink you can just call me or whatever and I'll come hang out."

"What are you doing here, seriously?" Nat asked, sitting up now, staring across the table at Sharla, "Like, we never really spoke much, we don't even run in the same social circles, so what are you honestly doing here with Jay and I?"

"I...respected you," Sharla said, glancing down at her glass, sighing, "I really admired the way you just...opened yourself up, no matter what the results were, and used your pain to push forward and help others recognize their own. I'm a fitness instructor, Nat, I'm...everything about me is so fake, and so carefully curated. I churn out social media posts that are so perfectly framed, expertly worded, showing off my latest exercise routine or diet effort and...and I feel like I'm lying to people. I don't want to lie to people anymore. I want to help people, genuinely help people, the way you do."

Natasha was floored. This was the last thing she ever expected to hear coming from Sharla. Sharla had always seemed so well put together, so happy with herself, smug almost, that to learn she admired anything about Natasha shocked her to her core.

"Honestly," Sharla said, circling the lip of her drink with her fingernail, "after what happened to you, I started to question myself, and question all the relationships I'd had with people up to that point, and whether or not I was really putting myself into them the way I should be or whether I was simply dating to avoid being alone, because I work so hard on myself constantly as it is that I can't stand to spend time with myself, because I hate what I've become. I hate what this career has made out of me. So I date people so I can be someone else, part of something else...but that can't be healthy. How do you do it, Nat, how do you admit that you need to be alone, but enjoy it?"

"I..." Nat started, "....I don't know. I don't like myself much either, for what it's worth. But I especially hate who I pretended to be when I was married. Who I was around him...that wasn't me, I simply conformed to his concept of me, how he viewed me, because I figured in order to be loved I had to be the ideal version of who they thought I was. But now that I'm alone, I'm focusing more on my daughter than myself, because I'm terrified to look inwards and find out that the real reason I pretended to be someone else was because there's nobody really there to be."

Sharla stood up and came around to the booth, scooting into it and looking down at the table, before finally just laying her head on Nat's shoulder, taking Nat by surprise. Nat smiled and stroked her hair, trying to comfort her friend...and her new business partner.

"Jeez," Jay said, upon re-approaching the table, "All it takes is a few drinks and you guys get intimate huh? Nice."

"Shut up," they replied in unison, laughing.

                                                                                                   ***

Sitting in her room that night, waiting for her mom to come home, Violet couldn't help but sit on her bed, swaddled in her blankets, headphones on without playing so she could hear the sound of the rain outside her bedroom window. She suddenly heard a knock at her window, and looked towards it to see Courtney standing in the tree outside her bedroom window. Violet crawled to the side of the bed and undid the latch, so Courtney could pull it up and climb through into the room.

"Why are you in my tree?" Violet asked.

"Because I figured nobody would answer the door if I knocked," Courtney said, shaking her head and pulling leaves and twigs out, adding, "Violet, please just listen to me. I've known you for like a year now, and seriously, you're not whatever they think you are, okay? You just learn differently, and there's nothing wrong with that. Fuck their stupid grade point average, alright? That doesn't justify their treatment of you, and you don't exist solely to make a school, or anyone for that matter, look better, okay?"

Courtney knelt at the end of the bed and put her hands on Violet's shoulders.

"You are Violet, and simply existing in a world that hates us is more than enough honestly, because all we're doing by being here is proving them wrong when they say we shouldn't be," Courtney said, "I know what it's like to be different, to be treated poorly. That's why I want to support you, and tell you there is nothing wrong with you, but there's something wrong with a school that tries to tell you there is."

Violet smiled wide and put her arms around Courtney, hugging her tightly. This surprised Courtney, as Violet wasn't often good with affection, but she happily hugged her back. They were best friends, they were all the other one had, and they needed to be there for one another.

The Simple girls rarely had friends outside of one another, but with Sharla and Courtney respectively, it felt like their world got a little bit bigger, despite the ugliness that existed around them, and they were grateful for it.

Nat was right, Courtney and Sharla had realized.

It really was easy to be nice to people.
Published on
"Melanie," Allen said, pacing as she sat on the chair, looking at the photos hanging from the clothesline strung across the apartment, barely lit up, "you need to know that these are things you've buried, things you haven't faced, things you need to open yourself up to and overcome. Until then, there can be no real progress."

"I've made progress!" Mel said, on the verge of tears, "I...I've been on medication, and I've been going to group therapy, and...and..."

"You and I both know that isn't enough. It wasn't enough for your fathers sister, and it won't be enough for you," Allen said, crouching in front of her so their eyes were level; he exhaled, scratched his forehead and smiled, adding, "Melanie...please trust me. We all just want to help you. Listen to us."

Melanie wiped her nose on the sleeve of her turtleneck and nodded, trying not to cry more.

She knew she was sick.

She just hadn't expected to be as sick as she was.

                                                                                                ***

It was morning.

Bea had gone for a jog as she did every morning, while Gus went to spend the day with his daughter. This left Melanie all alone in the apartment, something she was somewhat uneasy with, even in Gus's apartment. The concept of being alone had been shattered for her ever since Lisa had attacked. Now she felt she was being watched, even in the softest silence, she felt she was always being watched. Standing at the window, looking out as she sipped her cup of tea, her tiara on her head, she couldn't help but think about Lisa. She tried not to, but the betrayal hurt far too much to overlook. After a bit she heard the toaster oven ding, and raced to get her croissant from it, cutting it open to butter it, before sitting back down to eat breakfast.

As she ate, Melanie pulled the tiara off her head and turned it over in her hand, looking at it. This was the last part of her princess identity she still clung to, even when on medication, mostly because it was an accessory, and something her father had given to her. She couldn't bring herself to give it up and pack it away with everything else.

Chewing, she heard someone in the hall, and looked up towards the door to see a manila envelope slide under Gus's door. Melanie hesitated at first, but finally got up and walked, cautiously, towards it, bending down to pick it up. It merely read, "Please Come" on the front, and underneath that was the signature, "Allen". She had been wanting to get to know him better, he seemed like he could be a good substitute father figure, and she needed that. As her fingers played with the clasp on the back of the envelope, she could hear the sound of a door shutting, and figured it must be Allen re-entering his apartment. She gave up on the envelope, tucked it under her arm and headed out into the hallway, walking down to his apartment.

"Allen?" she asked, mouth still full of croissant as she knocked, "Allen? It's Mel. Are you there? I got your envelope."

No answer.

Melanie put her hand on the doorknob and turned, and was surprised when the door easily swung open. Melanie stepped inside, and was surprised to see the apartment was nothing but black. No discernible furniture, no wallpaper, nothing, except for a single lamp swinging over a chair, and clothesline hung all around, with developing photos hanging from them.

"Allen?..." she asked again, stepping inside.

The door swung shut behind her, and she turned to it, being caught by surprise. As she turned back, she saw Allen standing over a pan, holding a pair of tongs as he developed more photos.

"Allen?" she asked.

"Hey, I was hoping you'd come over," he said, "Please, have a seat."

"I got your envelope," she said, "...what are you doing?"

"I am unearthing memories," Allen said, clipping yet another photo to the clothesline, "please, take a seat," he said again, motioning to the single chair in the room. Melanie did as was suggested, and sat in the chair, until she realized she recognized the people in the photos...herself, her family, her father...these were all photos taken during her adolescence.

"...Allen, what...what is this?" she asked.

"It's everything you need it to be," he said, turning around and pulling his latex gloves off, setting the tongs down in the pan, "it's what you need right now. You're not doing well, Melanie. You know you're not doing well. You trusted the wrong people, you stopped taking medication - though we are proud of you for starting again - and you're unsure of yourself. I'm here to help you realize what it is you actually need."

"...who...who are you?" she asked, and Allen laughed.

"Melanie," he said, "Melanie, I'm you. Well, sort of. I'm a...a projection. You needed an older man around to help you sift through things, and that's what I'm here for. Think of me as your consciousness. The part of your brain that's well enough to know it's ill, and wants to get better."

"I am crazy," Melanie whispered, and Allen sighed.

"You're not crazy, Melanie, you're sick, there's a difference. But if you keep working with yourself, you'll overcome it, and you'll get better. It's not a straight line, and it takes a lot of effort, but it needs to be done. Don't you want to be well?"

"I don't want to do this," Melanie whispered, sounding like a mixture of angry and scared.

"Melanie," Allen said, pacing as she sat on the chair, looking at the photos hanging from the clothesline strung across the apartment, barely lit up, "you need to know that these are things you've buried, things you haven't faced, things you need to open yourself up to and overcome. Until then, there can be no real progress."

"I've made progress!" Mel said, on the verge of tears, "I...I've been on medication, and I've been going to group therapy, and...and..."

"You and I both know that isn't enough. It wasn't enough for your fathers sister, and it won't be enough for you," Allen said, crouching in front of her so their eyes were level; he exhaled, scratched his forehead and smiled, adding, "Melanie...please trust me. We all just want to help you. Listen to us."

Melanie wiped her nose on the sleeve of her turtleneck and nodded, trying not to cry more. Allen plucked one of the photos off the clothesline, and handed it to her. She took it and glanced at the photo, which showed her and her father in his hospital room, as she read to him from her favorite storybook. She felt the tears well up in her eyes, and wanted to sob.

"You were a child," Allen said, "You tried to hide all of this, and that's completely understandable. Your brain did what it had to do at the time in order to ensure survival. But now it's time to heal. It's time to grow. Your brain has stagnated long enough. Do you remember that day?"

"Mhm," she said, nodding, "I read my favorite story to him, and he was so happy to see I had learned to read. Truth was, I didn't even need to read it. I knew it by heart because of all the times I'd had him read it to me at bedtime. He read it to me when I was sick, so I thought maybe...maybe if I read it to him, he might get better."

"Children are often naive like that," Allen said, "and that's perfectly understandable. But he didn't get better, did he?"

"No," Melanie whispered, shaking her head as the tears rolled down her face, "he didn't. This was near the end. He died a few days later."

"You were only 7. Children usually don't know how to deal with that kind of loss, especially when they're as close to their parents as you were with your father. But look at his face, look how happy you made him, even at the end when he was in tremendous pain and facing down the barrel of his mortality. You still made him happier than ever, that's how proud he was of you, that's how much he loved you."

Melanie cracked a little smile, wiping her tears on her sleeve again as she handed the photo back to Allen. Allen took it and clipped it back up, walking down to the end of the clothesline.

"Melanie," he said, "therapy, medication, they're good starters, but you can't just do them and expect to get better. It takes more work than that. They don't just instantly cure you, and a lot of times, people have setbacks, relapses, and that's perfectly okay. Your just lucky your hallucinations are nice and helpful. How about this one."

Allen unclipped another photo and walked back, handing it to Melanie who stared at it for a few moments, before feeling her chest tighten and her eyes water up again. She looked up at Allen in surprise, shaking her head.

"I don't want to talk about this one," she said.

"You need to, because you've already been dealing with it lately," Allen said, "It's perfectly okay, Melanie. Go ahead and tell me about her."

"She was...she was the only person who was nice to me in middle school," Melanie said, "She used to stick up for me when the other girls made fun of me. Until Lisa...I just always assumed I'd appreciated the support, but Lisa made me realize that it...it was probably something more. Something deeper. I always thought she was pretty, and when I used to make my storybooks about my kingdom at home, I'd always make her the Royal Guard, always there to protect me."

Allen knelt in front of her and placed his hand on her knee, smiling at her.

"It's okay," Allen said, "You've been fighting it for so long, you wanted to escape so badly from who you are that you devolved into this princess persona, simply because princesses always find prince charming, and you thought that's what your father would've wanted. But...your father would've loved anyone who loved you the way he did, wouldn't he? Wouldn't he just want you to be happy?"

"I...guess," Mel said, looking at the photo again, showing her and the girl from school sitting on the bleachers during lunch and laughing, eating; she grimaced and mumbled, "...I don't want to be this way."

"There's nothing wrong with it, Melanie."

"I know, but...but I'm already sick, and people will just use that against me. They'll say 'oh, you just think you're...this way...because you're mentally ill', people always utilize a persons...interests...as weapons against them. I can't have that."

"The only person doing that to you right now is you," Allen said, "Please, stop running from it."

"...i can't," she whispered, crying again, "i...i can't. i already have so much else wrong with me, and Lisa...Lisa showed what happens when you...when you're..."

"Lisa was an outlier, Melanie, she isn't the end all be all example," Allen said, "Melanie, I want you to look at me and say it. You'll feel free once you do. Please, I promise nobody is going to judge you for it. I want you to be happy, I want us to be happy. But we can never be happy if we keep trying to escape from who we are."

Melanie took a few deep breaths and looked back at the photo. She could remember the girls laugh, even to this day, and she hated herself for it. She hated herself for being different. Then she thought about Emma, and Gus, and everyone else. They weren't ashamed of who they were, and they'd all worked hard to get better or fix things around them. The only holdout was Melanie. She wanted to be like them too. She wanted to be well, and happy, and in love. But Lisa...

"...she...she hurt me so much," Mel said, "what if I can never open up again because of what she did?"

"You will," Allen said, "Trust me, you will heal from it. It was traumatic, certainly, and it will create trust issues, but you will heal. But you need to take the first step. You know you made your father happy, you know you make Gus happy with your friendship, so why don't you start trying to make yourself happy? Say it, Melanie. Please. It's eating away at us."

Melanie sighed and shut her eyes, handing him back the photo. He sighed and took it, walking back to clip it back up when he heard her speak.

"I hated myself back then for feeling that way," Mel said, "but maybe...I could learn to love being...gay."

Allen smiled and turned back to face her.

"I'm proud of you, proud of us," Allen said, "Don't you feel better now?"

"Not particularly, no," Melanie whispered.

"Well, you will, give it time," Allen said, walking back towards her, another photo in his hand, "Let's do one more. How about we finally revisit the one you don't want to visit the most. The day you left."

"God please, no, I...I can't-"

"You can, and you will," Allen said, dropping the photo in her lap.

This photo took her back to the day she finally left the house, the day she and Shane had their most explosive argument, the day he told her to her face he was sick of having to clean up after her, sick of how crazy she was. Things he'd since taken back, but that had stung nonetheless for many years, despite his numerous apologies.

"He was going through shit," Melanie said, "I know that now. I may have even known then. But I needed him to be my brother, and he was tired of being my brother. He wasn't even a brother, he was a keeper. A janitor for all my messes, of which there were far too many. He told me nobody wanted me there. He told me mom had wasted her potential on me, and that dad..."

She tried to hold back from crying, but the tears came anyway.

"...and that dad would hate what I've become, even though I knew full well daddy would never hate me," she said, "...he was just angry, and he lashed out at me. So I cut contact, and I left, and I took the money my parents had entrusted to me to get my own apartment and made my own life for myself. I lived on that money for so long, never even thinking about getting a real job or having a real life, and instead I was able to retreat further into my delusions because I didn't have anyone telling me they were, in fact, just that. By the time Gus met me, I was so far gone, living so deep within the fantasy I'd crafted for myself, that I didn't even really know who I was anymore."

"Shane loves you," Allen said.

"I know he loves us," Mel said, "and I've forgiven him, and he's made up for it. But here I am again, making things hard for him. Dating his ex, all because she was trying to get back at him. I've always just been a problem for Shane, and he...he has a life of his own. It isn't fair to expect him to save mine. He was so mean that day though...shoving me against the wall and screaming at me how crazy I was...that he was embarrassed of me, and that he wanted a normal sister."

"People have been nasty to us, Melanie," Allen said, "but all that should really do is not enable us to believe they were right, but work harder to prove they were wrong. Don't you want to prove them wrong?"

Mel smiled and nodded, finally stopping crying. Allen smiled back at her, and looked at the envelope under her arm.

"You never opened that?" he asked, and she shook her head.

"You should."

Allen went back to developing photos, as Melanie finally unclasped the back of the envelope and slid out a thin collection of papers. She flipped through them, her brow furrowing, until she looked up at Allen, confused.

"Allen...what is this?" she asked.

"That, Melanie...is what you were diagnosed with when you were a little girl," Allen said, "You found those papers when you were a little girl, but you never really understood what they meant. Now you're old enough to grasp it."

"...'It is our professional opinion that Melanie Irres, age 11, suffers from Schizoaffective and Dissociative Identity Disorder. We will recommend medications and therapists to help combat this combination. She states she often feels detached from her own life, as though she's merely watching it play out, or is in an entirely separate life altogether, believing she is a princess from a long lost kingdom. Please see the attached...'. Allen...I..."

"Melanie," Allen said, undoing his apron and setting his tongs back down, pulling his gloves back off, "perhaps by medical definition, yes, you're crazy. But that word is so outdated, and so misleading. And it's not like you can't live a perfectly healthy life with those disorders. They're just disorders. Just another facet of your personality that make up the entirety of who you are. And who you are...who we are....is Melanie Irres, a deeply closeted, severely ill young lady, who has found a support group, who has a family, and who's finally ready to get better. So never let your diagnosis define your entirety, because it's just a small microcosm of your person. You're not 'crazy'. You're Melanie. And that's a beautiful thing."

Melanie stood up and threw her arms around Allen, sobbing as he laughed and stroked her hair gently.

"There there," he whispered, "it's okay, you're okay. You don't have to do this alone."

Melanie wasn't sure how long she stood there, hugging Allen, but after a while, the door opened, and the landlady of the building was standing there, looking at her. Melanie turned and looked at her.

"Mrs. Irres? What are you doing in here?" she asked.

The light now filling the room, Melanie could see it was empty. There was no clothesline covered in photos, there was no chair, and there was no Allen. Melanie smiled and looked at the landlady, shrugging.

"Just admiring the space," she said.

                                                                                            ***

Lying on Gus's couch that night, staring at the ceiling and thinking about her day, she couldn't help but feel good. She felt like she could finally shut the door on the first part of her life, and really move forward and progress. But something irked her...why had her parents hidden this information from her? She chewed on her lip and realized she had to confront her mother, or her aunt, and get this information out in the open. She needed to know why she was never told what she suffered from.

And she wanted to.

She was just scared what the truth would do to her.

Build forward...or break down.
Published on

Allie could feel the tile under her hands, the cool of the bathrooms air conditioner keeping her from overheating as its hum filled the room. She groaned and reached up, gripping the toilet and pulling herself up, sitting now against the side of the bathtub. She exhaled and rubbed her face, feeling sick to her stomach. How could she keep doing this to herself? She needed to stop, but she couldn't. Allie stumbled as she got up, and grabbed the bathrobe from the wall, pulling it over her underwear as she exited the bathroom and headed to the kitchen. Upon entrance, she heard a spoon stirring, and turned to see Zoe standing there, cooking.


"Jesus!" Allie shouted, tugging the robe tighter around herself, "What are you doing here?!"


"I...you had me come over last night, remember?" Zoe asked, "You called and left me a voicemail."


Zoe dug her phone from her pants and flipped it open, plugged in her passcode for her mailbox and played it, holding it up so Allie could listen.


"I don't wanna be alone," Allie said on the machine, "and you're the only, like, person who can be around me, so you should probably do that. Please come over. I'm in the bathroom."


Zoe shut her phone and put it back into her pocket, then continued cooking as Allie sat herself down at the counter and ran her hands over her face. She felt embarrassed, but was thankful she wasn't waking up to an empty penthouse again. Zoe put a mug of coffee down in front of Allie, and Allie smiled and thanked her as she gripped the handle and lifted it to her lips, sipping it.


"What are you making?" she asked as she finished drinking.


"I'm making scrambled eggs," Zoe said, "Because we have a job to do today."


"We...we do?" Allie asked, "this is news to me."


"Your cousin called," Zoe said, "It's her daughters birthday, and she wants you to come perform some tricks. I told her we'd be delighted to take that offer."


"Oh god, not Megan, right?" Allie asked, and Zoe nodded, making Allie throw her head back, groaning louder, "ughhhhh, I can't stand her, she's so...perfect. She's everything my parents wish I were. Everything I probably could've been had that not happened."


Zoe finished cooking and scooped some scrambled eggs and bacon onto a plate, sliding it in front of Allie and handing her a fork before going back to serve herself.


"Well," Zoe said, stuffing some bacon in her mouth, "I'll be there, and I'll keep things on track. I'll make sure we do the job, don't get sucked into any familial drama and get out of there with nothing going wrong, okay?"


Allie smiled a little, and began eating. As she chewed, she couldn't help but wonder why, other than hero worship, Zoe was working so hard to make things easy for her. Whatever the reason was, Allie was appreciative, even if she didn't outwardly show it, because lord knew lately she was having trouble keeping herself on task. Maybe this situation would work out after all, and maybe, in the end, things would get better for a change. The girls finished eating, and Allie went to find something for Allie to wear for their afternoon at a kids birthday.


Zoe, sitting on the bed while Allie dug through her enormous walk in closet, couldn't help but feel self conscious as she played with the ends of her hair. After a moment, Allie came out with stacks of clothes over her arm, and tossed them onto the bed beside Zoe.


"There's a lot here that I used to wear when I started out, and you look about my size, so something here should work. We'll get you your own outfit eventually, but for today, cause it's such short notice, you'll have to wear a hand me down," Allie said.


"That's fine, I don't mind," Zoe replied, beginning to sift through what had been brought out.


"I'll have to dip back into the stuff I learned as a kid in order to come up with anything that won't frighten them," Allie said as she shut the closet doors and lit up a cigarette, puffing on it, adding, "thankfully kids are easily impressed, so it shouldn't be too hard."


"This one is pretty," Zoe said, pulling out a robins egg blue leotard with red trim, the whole thing shimmering in the light, and Allie nodded.


"That was one of my favorite pieces," she said, "If that's what you like, feel free to wear it. I'll let you change."


Allie exited the room to give Zoe some privacy. Zoe stood up from the bed and undressed, then pulled the outfit on and was surprised to see it fit her snug as can be. She walked to the body length mirror in the corner of the room and admired herself, smiling. She couldn't believe her luck. She was not only helping her hero, but she was also wearing one of her hero's favorite outfits from her own career. After she picked out a pair of knee high boots to go with her outfit, Zoe resurfaced in the living room to find Allie was also dressed in her usual magicians outfit.


"Heyyy," Allie said, seeing her, "You look good! I see I was right, you're totally my size."


"I took some of your boots," Zoe said, showing her legs off.


"Eh, it's fine, I've got a million of them. Come on, let's get outta here," Allie said.


With that, the girls exited the penthouse, and headed down through the casino to a rental car Zoe was able to procure from the casino, so they could show up in style. As Zoe drove, Allie continued smoking and blowing the smoke out the window, thinking about how long it had been since she'd actually seen her cousin, or her cousins daughter for that matter. After she'd become addicted to the painkillers, she'd been somewhat uninvited to most of the family get togethers that took place near her, for reasons she completely understood, even if she wasn't happy about.


But today, she'd show them all. With Zoe's help, she'd show them that she wasn't the screw up they all thought she was. After all...how hard could it be to impress children, and the adults who acted like them?


                                                                                   ***


"I told you not to invite her," Megan said as she stuck candles into the princess cake, her husband Jeff, standing behind her, mixing up some fruit punch in a large glass bowl for the kids to enjoy. He sighed and turned around, facing her.


"I thought it was the nice thing to do," he said, "She'd be working, so she would be out of circulation, and besides, Lane keeps asking me why she can't see her anymore, and I don't think it's fair to keep her apart from her family just because we might have a problem with them."


Megan sighed and finished pushing in the last candle, looking up at Jeff; she said, "I guess, I guess that's fair. Our judgement of Allie is not her judgement of Allie. And who knows, maybe she's gotten better. I doubt it, but I suppose strangers things have happened."


The glass sliding door leading to the backyard opened up, and Lane came in, wearing her princess outfit for the party. She looked at her parents, who smiled at her.


"Is Allie coming?" Lane asked.


"Her friend said they'd be here, sweetheart, so don't worry," Jeff said, reaching down and stroking his daughters hair. She lit up at this news, and raced back outside to tell all her friends.


"Her friend?" Megan asked.


"Some woman answered the phone, said she worked with Allie," Jeff said, standing back up and going back to fixing more snacks for the kids, "Said they'd be here as soon as possible."


"Huh, maybe she finally got a sponsor," Megan said, making Jeff smirk.


                               ***


Zoe pulled up the house Allie instructed her to stop in front of, and parked. Zoe turned the car off and undid her seatbelt, then exhaled as she looked at the steering wheel. Allie put her cigarette out, spritzed herself with something to hide the stench of smoke, and then glanced at Zoe.


"You okay?" she asked.


"Nervous."


"This isn't even an actual show, it's for children," Allie replied, "What's got you nervous?"


"...okay, so, despite all the practice I've done and being a fan forever, I've never actually...performed in front of anyone," Zoe said, taking Allie by surprise.


"You've got to be kidding" Allie thought to herself...Tony had given her an apprentice with no actual experience? Jesus, they were really starting from the ground up then. Allie had her work cut out for her. But, she figured, perhaps this was a blessing in disguise, because if she had to focus on helping Zoe get better at her craft, then she'd have less a chance to get fucked up, which could be good for her. Allie sighed and took one of Zoe's hands, patting it.


"You'll be fine," she said, "I'll be right there, so just follow my lead, alright?"


Zoe nodded, and the two of them got out of the car, heading up the walk to the house. As they approached, they saw a curtain in the front window flutter, and suddenly the front door swung open, and Jeff came out.


"Hey Jeff," Allie said, throwing her arms around him, hugging tight, "It's so good to see you again."


"Yeah, you too, you look good. Um, I'm gonna need you two to come in through the side door, so the girls don't see you and get overly excited. Lane has been asking when you'd arrive all morning," Jeff said, leading the girls through the side gate and to the side of the house. He opened the door and together the three of them slipped into the house.


It looked exactly as it always had; perfect in every way. The sort of home you'd see in a magazine, the sort of home that was clearly kept after well by the perfect couple, and this made Allie feel inferior. Despite living in a penthouse suite, she didn't live in a home, and that made her feel homeless by extension. Sure, she lived in a Casino penthouse, but this space actually felt lived in, and that made a big difference. Jeff led the girls upstairs to his and Megan's bedroom, and shut the door behind them.


"I'm glad to know Lake is excited to see me," Allie said, and Jeff smiled.


"Yeah, she's really stoked. This your friend?" he asked, nodding at Zoe.


"This is Zoe, yes, she's working with me now on my act," Allie said.


"That's surprising, I can vividly recall you saying you'd always work alone," Jeff said, crossing his arms.


"Well, I was young and foolish," Allie said, making him laugh.


"Well," Jeff said, "Everyone is in the backyard, except for Megan who's in the kitchen, so just head down and out whenever you feel you're ready. There's snacks in the kitchen too, but they're more for the kids than adults, so Megan may chastise you for taking some."


Allie nodded, and Jeff left the room. Zoe began pacing, tugging at her hair, clearly nervous. Allie began looking around the bedroom, trying to soak in all the newness of her cousins life and what had changed since they'd last seen one another. The bedroom was so well kept, not a single sock out of place, and this made Allie feel like even more of a mess than she already did. She finally noticed Zoe, and put her hands on Zoe's shoulders, turning her to face her.


"Hey," Allie said, "it's okay, you're okay, I'm right here, everything is going to be fine, and if it isn't, they'll blame me, not you. I'm the one with the addictions and vices, you're just the assistant."


Zoe nodded, and after a few moments of gathering themselves, she followed Allie downstairs.


                        ***


The first time Allie saw her cousin with her baby, it was at a show in a small venue in downtown Vegas. A small dingy little place called The Fishbowl, somewhere she frequented for ages before Tony discovered her, and still went back to now and then for old times sake. Jeff and Megan said they'd come, and come they did, baby in tow. After the show, Megan and Jeff decided to have a few drinks so Allie could drive them home. Allie had rarely been the designated driver, but she tried not to drink on nights she performed, at least before the show.


Sitting there at a table in the corner, away from everyone else, holding this little child swaddled in blankets while Jeff and Megan got their buzz on, Allie couldn't help but feel like she had an audience who actually would be wow'd by her skills, and so, using her free arm, she did simple tricks with the metal rings, which - as predicted - easily excited little Lane. From that night on, Lane had an incredible appreciation for Allie's magic, and Allie, even at her lowest, always made sure to give Lane special gifts for her birthday.


So to be there today, to perform for Lane's birthday...she knew this was important, and nothing, not even herself, would fuck it up.


                                                                                    ***


"How's your arm?" Megan asked, as the girls entered the kitchen.


"...it's there, so," Allie replied, "that's gotta count for something, I guess."


Megan chuckled and walked over to Allie, surprising her by giving her a hug, which Allie reciprocated. She hadn't seen Megan or Jeff in a year or two now, and now being welcomed into the home, treated like family yet again, she welcomed it. As the hug broke, Megan looked at Zoe.


"Is this your friend?" she asked.


"This is my friend Zoe, she's working with me on my act," Allie said, "She wants to do what I do, so I'm showing her the ropes, helping her get a leg up."


"That's really cool," Megan said, reaching out to shake Zoe's hand, which Zoe happily let her do. Megan then picked up the tray of cupcakes and turned back to Zoe, asking, "Would you mind taking these out to my husband? He's in the backyard now."


Zoe obliged, and exited the kitchen as Megan folded her arms and leaned against the counter, looking at Allie.


"You look like shit," she said, "How's Nick?"


"...Nick dumped me," Allie said, looking at the floor, "which, I mean, I guess I can't blame him, but it still hurts. Still, I understand his decision."


"Took him long enough."


"You're telling me."


"Are you drinking?"


"...kind of? I mean, I'm trying to taper off, cause my boss at Card Shark is giving me grief, but I am trying at least," Allie said.


"And pills?"


"Still taking them, still in immense pain," Allie said, "I don't think that's going to change anytime soon."


The door slid open and Zoe came back in. Megan and Allie shut up upon her re-entrance, and Megan picked up the cake and began walking outside with it, leaving the girls alone. Zoe stood against the sink where Megan had leaned and looked at Allie.


"Are you okay? Was she being mean to you?" Zoe asked, and Allie shook her head.


"No, she was just...being Megan," Allie said, "We grew up together, we have a lot of history, so for her to see me do to myself what I've done...it hurts her. Sure, my predicament wasn't entirely my fault, I got attacked by a tiger, but...I haven't really been trying to make it better either. I guess I just sort of accepted at some point that if you're in show business, any kind of show business, then eventually you wind up hooked on stuff to cope."


"...you know, that night it happened," Zoe said, "Tiger attack aside...that was the best magic show I've ever seen."


Allie smiled and wiped her eyes on her sleeve.


"C'mon kid, let's give these children what they want," she said, putting her arm around her partner and walking into the backyard with her.


                                                                             ***


Actually, that history Allie had mentioned? It was much deeper than just growing up together. For the longest time, Allie and Megan had been a team. Neither one had any siblings, so they considered one another their sister, and as such, the girls had a bond that could not be broken, or so they thought. When Allie told Megan she was finally going to go for her dream, Megan wanted in, and for a while the two toured as a duo.


The Astounding Allie and Magnificent Megan.


When Megan met Jeff, it put a strain on the act, and Allie took it personally. She was happy for her cousin, certainly, but after that soured, she promised never to be part of a duo again. She never really wanted to in the first place, she had only bought into the idea because she and Megan had been so close growing up that it felt like the right thing to do, but once Megan left, that was when she decided to go solo forever. A few months after the split, Allie was discovered by Tony.


And that night, sitting in the theater with her husband - their daughter being babysit at home - Megan couldn't help but feel guilty as she watched her cousin's arm being torn to shreds on that stage, her screams filling the auditorium as people fled in fear. Jeff tugged on Megan's arm, trying to get her to leave with him, but she refused to budge. This was her fault. She'd left Allie. She'd caused this. Allie never would've gotten this risky if Megan had still been around.


Megan lived with that regret every single day, but she never told Allie this.


Allie had enough problems as it was.


                                                                                   ***


Afterwards, sitting in the bar on the main floor of Card Shark, Allie and Zoe were eating bar food while the sounds of machines rang out behind them. The show had gone well, Jeff and Megan thanked them for their participation, and overall the day had been a success. Allie downed a small glass of bourbon and set the glass back on the table.


"You know," she said, "I never really thanked you for being there this morning and making me breakfast. Or for making me do the show today. I suppose I should, right? That's, like, what friends do?"


"You don't need to thank me," Zoe replied, popping another shrimp off the lip of the cocktail glass in her mouth, "I've got my own selfish motivations as you know. My career won't progress if you don't work, so. But yeah, you're welcome."


Allie chuckled and took one of the shrimp for herself, dipping it in cocktail sauce before eating it.


"She used to be my partner," Allie said, "She used to do magic with me, like you're doing now. But she found love, she wanted a family, she decided magic wasn't worth it. Decided I wasn't worth it, I guess. I can't really blame her, she seems much happier now, but..."


"But?"


"...but in some way, I kind of wish I could have what she has. She has a life, she has a family. What do I have? I have a penthouse suite in a casino. I have everything I wanted, except what I actually needed. That's the thing nobody tells you about success. It's hollow, it's empty-"


"Plenty of people have said that, you're not being original by parroting it," Zoe said, interrupting.


"-but," Allie continued, "you accept it, because at a certain point, you feel so selfish for being so famous, for taking the money of actually hard working people, that you figure you don't deserve anything better. So you stay in your penthouse suite and you order room service and you do your magic show and you get your arm nearly torn off by a tiger. At least that's what happened to me. Sure, now I have unlimited access to painkillers, but that only makes people judge me for that too. It's a never ending cycle. There's no facet of my personality not open to public degradation, even from those who don't know a single thing about me. So you wanna be a magician, or a musician, or a movie star or whatever? You want to achieve your dreams?"


Zoe nodded, as Allie slid back from the bar and stood up, pulling her coat on.


"...then you have to give up who you actually are. The dream is a nightmare. I'll see you for breakfast. We have practice tomorrow."


Allie turned and headed towards the elevator, back up to the suite. As she stood there, waiting for it to arrive, she heard shoes walking beside her and stopping. She glanced to her side, to see Zoe standing there.


"...I don't think it's a nightmare," Zoe said, "in a nightmare, you're usually alone. You're not alone."


Allie smiled, and the door to the elevator opened. Both women stepped inside, and Allie pressed the button for the suite.


"What do you think about French Toast?" Zoe asked.


And the doors shut.

Published on
"Do I have to do this?" Violet asked, sitting at the kitchen table as Natasha prepared her breakfast. As she finished and set the plate on the table in front of Violet, Nat took a seat at the table across from her daughter and sighed.

"I think it's important that you have your father in your life, even if seeing him is painful for me," Nat said, "Because this is about you, not me. You deserve to have him around."

"But he...uh....he doesn't..."

"He doesn't what, kitten?"

"He doesn't like me," Violet whispered, and Natasha laughed.

"Are you kidding me?" she asked, "He loves you to death. It killed him having to leave you, believe me, that was the one silver lining for me, was the pain he got from not being able to be around you anymore. Your father adores you, sweetheart, so just try and work with him, okay? Don't be stubborn like me."

The doorbell rang, and Natasha stood up, heading to answer it as Violet dug into her scrambled eggs and buttered toast. She could hear them speaking hushed to one another in the foyer momentarily, until they both entered the kitchen. It'd been almost a year since Violet had seen her father, and now seeing him standing here, she realized how little she recognized him. He had short pepper grey hair and stubble, wearing jeans, boots and a button down shirt with the collar done up, he didn't even look like a father, which made her feel all the more awkward.

"Hey hunny," Stephen said, sitting down next to her as Natasha poured him and herself cups of coffee; he took it from her and sipped, then smiled at Violet, adding, "You look very good."

"Thanks," Violet said, focused on eating.

"How's school been?" he asked.

"I have a friend," Violet said.

"Well that's excellent," Stephen said, "Everyone should have at least one friend."

"Yeah, I wonder what that's like sometimes," Natasha said, making Stephen smirk.

Just then there was another knock at the door and Natasha excused herself once again to answer it, leaving Stephen and Violet together. Violet finished eating the eggs and moved onto finishing the toast as her father cleared his throat, took another long sip of coffee and lowered his voice.

"Sweetheart, I know this must be awkward, so we're gonna do whatever you want okay? This weekend is all about you, I just want to make you feel comfortable," he said, "So if you have any suggestions for things you'd like to do, I'm all ears."

Natasha and Jay came back into the kitchen, Jay holding his laptop bag in one hand and a lot of charts under another arm.

"Oh," Jay said, "You...you didn't say you had company."

"It's fine, it's just my ex," Nat said, "Sit down Jay, you want some coffee?"

"Uh, sure, yeah," Jay said, setting his stuff down at the table and sitting down across from Stephen and Violet, next to where Nat's seat was; he turned his attention back to Nat as she got him coffee and he said, "So I brought over some charts, metrics and stuff about how this is going to work, financially and otherwise. I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"Not anymore than anyone else," Violet said, surprising her folks with her articulate statement. With that, she got up, and excused herself to the bathroom before getting her bags. As they hard her rush up the stairs, Stephen pointed at the charts and looked at Jay as Nat sat back down, giving Jay his coffee mug.

"What's this all about?" Stephen asked.

"We're taking the show online," Nat said, "That way we have full creative control, are entitled to all the benefits and can say whatever we want without fear of being silenced."

"That's a great idea," Stephen said, "You can probably reach a broader audience anyway, given the proliferation of internet access in the household at this point. Everyone uses the internet, not everyone watches public access television."

"My thought process exactly," Nat said.

Violet came back down and said she was ready to go. Stephen stood up, said goodbye to Nat and took Violet's bags out to his car. Nat got up and walked around to her daughter, pulling her in close for a hug, which she happily gave her mom. Natasha stroked Violet's hair and whispered into her ear.

"If you feel uncomfortable at any moment, and it all becomes too overwhelming, just say the word and I will come get you, okay?" she said, and Violet nodded; Nat smiled, kissed her daughters forehead and added, "Love you kitten, take care and I'll see you soon."

"Love you, um, too, uh, mom," Violet said, following Stephen out to his car.

Natasha watched them pull away from the kitchen window, until she noticed Jay was turned in his seat, looking at her.

"You okay?" he asked.

"...I really don't know," she mumbled, "Alright, let's look over these charts."

                                                                                             ***

As Violet sat in the passenger seat, she couldn't help but feel like a stranger to her father.

To be fair, she felt like a stranger to almost everyone, her mother included in many aspects, but this was different. This was her father. This was one of two people she shouldn't feel like a stranger to, and yet she did. She watched him fiddle with the air conditioning and start playing music at a low volume, so as not to overwhelm her, and she realized she didn't know a single thing about him. He and her mother had clearly loved one another so much they decided to have a baby, but she didn't know much beyond that he was her father, and maybe she should take the time and make the effort to get to know who he really was, and what really made him leave.

"D...dad?" she asked.

"Yeah pumpkin?" he asked.

"Um...wh...why did you, uh, leave us?" Violet asked, and Stephen sighed.

"Um, I....there were a lot of reasons, but I guess really what it comes down to is simply not feeling like I was important to your mother anymore," he said, "she had her show, and of course you and her were always closer than you and I have been, and I just felt...abandoned. When you build a life with someone only for them to then cut you out of it - intentionally or not - it messes with your self worth. But I never stopped loving her in some ways, and I certainly never stopped loving you to death."

"Then why didn't, um, you know, uh...why didn't you come back?" Violet asked.

"Adult relationships are complicated, there's a lot of factors," Stephen said.

"They aren't more complicated than any other kind," Violet said, "They...that's just, um, an excuse that, like, adults use, you know? To like...uh...not...not want to figure things out. My friend at school, she was born a boy, and our friendship is not complicated at all."

"Well, it's not romantic, so."

"I...I guess, sure," Violet said.

He had a point. Platonic and romantic were different, and perhaps that wasn't a very fair comparison. Violet pulled her sweaters long sleeves over her hands and flapped the ends of them, smiling at the stimulation. Stephen exhaled and turned the radio off as he came to a stop at a red light.

"Look, sweetheart," he said, "what happened to this family was my fault, okay? Even with what I just said, I made the decision to drastically alter things. Your mother isn't in the wrong, and you especially aren't. We both love you tremendously, you're the best thing in our lives, okay? Now do you have any idea what you wanna do for the day?"

Violet thought for a while, and then nodded.

"I wanna go to the zoo," she said.

                                                                                             ***

Jay was typing away furiously on his laptop, sitting at Natasha's kitchen table as she paced around the kitchen, drinking her third cup of coffee, a box of open Biscotti's on the table that they'd both been picking at. Jay finally paused and looked up at Nat.

"Christ," he said, "You're making me anxious and I've only drank one cup."

"Was I wrong? To do this to her?" Natasha asked, "I mean, I just...I figured she'd need her father. My sister and I grew up with our father distant and aloof, and it kind of fucked us up. All we ever really wanted was for dad to, like, notice literally anything that we did, and it killed us that he didn't. I'm just trying to make sure she's covered emotionally, you know?"

"Nat," Jay said, standing up and walking to her, stopping her, his hands on her shoulders, "All you do is think about other people. When you're not doing your show, you're expanding that energy on your daughter. It's admirable as hell, but it's perfectly fine to be selfish once in a while. What do you say we knock off work and go somewhere?"

"Like where?" Nat asked, brushing her bangs from her eyes.

"I don't know, man, anywhere. Just...somewhere where you don't have to worry about how poorly you might be doing things for others. Let's go to an arcade or something," Jay said, "I'm itching to play some Pinball."

"Alright," Nat said after a moment, grinning, "Yeah, that'd be cool."

They grabbed their respective coats and headed out the door, climbing into Jay's car and heading off to the downtown, where the biggest (and one of the only remaining) arcade was. Upon entering, the flashing lights nearly blinding them and the sound of machines in every direction pounding at their eardrums, Jay and Natasha couldn't help but feel like kids again themselves. Jay led her over to the pinball section, and together, side by side, they picked tables and began playing.

"You need to relax once in a while," Jay said.

"It's so very hard when the world is constantly fucking you up the ass," Nat replied, making Jay cackle.

"I mean, sure, you're not wrong, but trust me, you won't be able to commit yourself to the work you need to get done if you're constantly questioning every single thing you think or say. You need to be able to focus."

"We were best friends, man," Nat said as she flayed on the flippers, scoring more points, "We were best friends until we had a kid, and then suddenly we were parents, and parents can't be best friends, they have to be parents."

"That isn't true at all, my folks are absolutely best friends. I think it just depends on how you approach it."

"I know I let my work get in the way, and I know Violet became my end all be all concern," Natasha said, pulling the spring back and releasing another ball, "but...I don't think that's exactly a bad thing, right? I mean, I was being a mom, you're supposed to be there for your child."

"Nat, you're a great mom," Jay said, "and I'm sure under the right circumstances a great wife too, and you know I'm on your side and not his. Lord knows I was there, I saw how much he hurt you. You don't owe him anything. Certainly not an explanation. Lord knows he didn't give you one."

Natasha stopped and looked at Jay, who also stopped and looked at her.

"Why are you helping me so much?" she asked.

"...because you...you hired me right out of college, and I had, like, no experience and I just want to give something back to the person who gave me everything," Jay said, pulling another few quarters from his pockets and splitting the stack between the two of them; he added, "Because when you give so much and nobody gives anything back, that isn't being a good person, that's being taken advantage of. You deserve better than that."

Jay turned, pushed another quarter into the slot and continued playing as Natasha stood and stared at him. This young guy she'd known for so long, who had been with her show since it started, was now her closest friend and business associate, and she smiled, because she realized then and there that she'd lost a husband, but gained a new best friend.

                                                                                                ***

"Why did you want to come to the zoo?" Stephen asked as he and Violet strolled through the exhibits, finally stopping in the reptile section, where they watched a large python squirm around in its enclosure. Violet sipped her drink as Stephen bit into his sandwich they'd bought there, and she sighed.

"I guess because it's, um, like...what you...you know...are supposed to do with your parents?" Violet said, "I don't...I don't know what a family does together."

This statement broke Stephen's heart, and he started feeling like he and Natasha had somehow failed her as parents. She watched the python snatch a mouse that was dropped in its case, and watched it eat the mouse entirely, while Stephen ate his sandwich and watched his daughter.

"I'm sorry," he finally said, "I'm sorry we weren't-"

"Don't be sorry," Violet said, her voice cold and flat, "...you're no different than most parents."

When they went to Stephen's apartment that night, and after Violet had fallen asleep, Stephen called Natasha, but she didn't answer. He paced in his kitchen and prepared to leave a quiet somewhat irritated voicemail for her, but instead he hung up and sat down at his kitchen table, sighing and running his hands through his hair. How could he tell her this sort of thing? That their daughter felt like she didn't have a family? He'd done enough damage already, and decided he'd handle this himself.

He looked over at the couch and watched Violet sleep, her headphones playing white noise as she snored, and he smiled. He really did love his daughter, just like he'd loved Natasha. Violet was so much like her, that it scared him. He stood up, walked to the couch, sat down on the ottoman and stroked her hair gently. How could he have walked out, people had asked him, because they assumed that once you have a marriage or a family that your own wants immediately vanish, but in the end it had been pretty easy, aside from inadvertently hurting his daughter and wife.

He didn't regret doing it, but he did regret having to do it.

And he felt like perhaps that, if nothing else, at least cleansed him of some guilt.
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"Your shampoo sucks," Bea said, coming out of the bathroom, drying her hair as Gus laid on the bed, reading a magazine and eating some nuts from a plastic tub. He looked up at her and raised an eyebrow.

"Well," he said, "I don't really know what it is I'm buying, for what it's worth. I know nothing about what's good for my hair, I just picked the bottle that I like the best."

"You choose your shampoo bottle based on its color and design? What are you, a child?" Bea asked, laughing as Gus sat up and made room for her to sit down; she threw the towel on the floor and put her hand behind his neck, pulling him, their lips almost touching.

"If I am, then that makes this really creepy," Gus said, "Someone should report you."

She laughed and kissed him, just as a knock come at the apartment door. Gus kissed her once more, then stood up and headed to answer it while Bea got dressed and went to blowdry her hair. Gus opened the door, finding Melanie standing there in jeans and a turtleneck, her hair pulled back into a ponytail. She looked far more normal than he'd ever seen her, and it felt...weird.

"What's up neighbor?" he asked.

"Um, I need a big favor please," she said.

"Of course your highness, anything for you."

"I...I need to stay with you for a while."

"...oh."

Gus exited the apartment and shut the door behind him, the two of them now standing in the hall as he watched Melanie start to pace, clearly under pressure of some kind.

"It's just...ever since Lisa, and that whole...thing...I haven't really felt safe in my apartment, and I'm...I'm scared to go back in. It would just be for a few days, maybe a week, while I get my locks changed and get a security system installed. Please? I really don't want to be alone, Gus."

"I mean, I guess, sure," Gus said, shrugging as he leaned against the wall, "Why not? Bea is here a lot, but maybe safety in numbers will make you feel better. You're back on your medication right?"

"Mhm, started last night," she said, "It takes a little bit to kick in fully, but I am taking them again."

"Good, good," Gus said, "Yeah, I guess just pack a bag or two and come on over. You can sleep on the couch. It isn't super comfortable but it's what I have."

"Thank you Gus," Mel said, smiling and hugging him, "I feel safer already."

After the hug broke, he watched her head back into her own apartment, presumable to get packed. Leaning against the wall, he shook his head and exhaled deeply. He was her best friend, and he wanted to make her feel safe, but how far could he go before jeopardizing his own life? It was a tough line to balance on, and he finally started to understand how Shane must've felt his whole life. The door to the apartment opened and Bea came out, now dressed in a halter top and shorts, putting her arms around his neck and kissing his cheek.

"What's going on?" she asked, "What're you doing out here?"

"...I don't even know," Gus replied.

                                                                                                 ***

Darren was standing in his hospital room by his bed, his bag on the bed as he packed it, when he heard the door open and Emma stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. He twirled his black marble cane with the gold eagle head a few times in his hands, making her shake her head and rub her face as she chuckled.

"My god, this is what I'm going to have to get used to?" she asked.

"Baby, you're livin' with a class act," Darren said.

"Yeah well, class, how about you get your act together and we get out of here?" Emma said, "I'm parked in a employees space and I could get towed. Do you have everything packed up already?"

"For the most part," Darren said, "There's something we have to stop and do on the way home though."

"What?"

"Just an errand I have to run."

Emma eyed him suspiciously, but nodded in agreement. She took his bag after he zipped it up and handed it to her, and then - with a flourish - walked out of his room on his cane as over the top as he could, making Emma shake her head again.

"My god, if I knew this was going to be insufferable I wish you'd just died," she muttered, still laughing under her breath.

                                                                                                 ***

Melanie pulled her bags into Gus's apartment, while Bea stood in his kitchenette, eating peanut butter out of the jar with a spoon and watching her. Gus was making up the couch for Mel to sleep on, adding some nice pillows and a quilt. Melanie sat down in a chair and sighed, tugging gently on her ponytail out of nervousness.

"You want something to eat or whatever?" Gus asked, as he finished dressing the couch.

"No, I'm okay," Mel replied, "I'm just not feeling well."

"Want some peanut butter?" Bea asked, mouth full of it as she held the jar and spoon out, making Mel and Gus stare at her, Mel trying not to crack up.

"Gross dude," Gus mumbled, "that's been in your mouth."

"I'm just trying to be nice, jeez," Bea said, going back to eating it as Gus finished the couch and he and Mel sat on it. He rubbed her back as she ran her hands over her face, exhaling deeply.

"Look, you know you're welcome to stay here long as you need to," Gus said, "You're not in the way or anything, okay? I know what happened was terrifying, and I don't want you to have to be alone until you feel completely safe in your apartment again."

"Thank you Gus," Mel said, "...but what if I never feel safe again?"

"Then I guess you're welcome to rule this kingdom," Gus said, smiling, making Mel chuckle.

Bea, standing there and watching this, admired Gus's openness and realized just how lucky she was to have him as her own. She smiled, best one can while eating mouthfuls of peanut butter, and promised herself that that night she would show Gus just how grateful she was for him being not just a great friend but also an excellent boyfriend.

That night, when Bea and Gus left, Melanie paced in the apartment and rifled through Gus's things, putting in a CD into his stereo system and playing it loudly, not thinking how it might affect the neighbors, but caring more about drowning out her thoughts. After everything Lisa had told her, she was terrified to trust anyone again. Even her faith in those she did know and trust seemed to be wavering a smidge, and she hated that.

As Mel stood at the window and looked out over the city at its twinkling night lights, she couldn't help but think that somewhere out there was a girl, a girl who had hurt her in ways she'd never been hurt before, and yet...she wanted nothing more than to talk to her, and figure out why she hadn't been good enough for her.

                                                                                              ***

"Where are we going?" Emma asked, starting to sound exasperated by the amount of driving Darren was doing. Darren merely smiled and shook his head, not answering her at all in any manner. Emma sighed and just leaned her head against the window, looking at all the cars they were passing by. After a moment, she asked, "...is this something you need to do, or want to do?"

"...both, actually," Darren said, "It's both. It has to get done and I want to do it. I know I'm supposed to be resting, and I will as soon as I finish this errand, but until then I need to do this."

"Alright," Emma said, shutting her eyes and reaching over, gripping his thigh, feeling his hand reach down and grasp hers, stroking the back of her hand. She smiled and sighed, trying to rest. It had been a rough few months - and an especially rough few days - and she was so happy to just have Darren back, touching her. This calmed her tremendously, and she quickly grew to realize just how much she still loved him, despite their issues.

After what felt like hours, Emma woke up, and Darren had parked and was now opening her car door, helping her out. She stretched and yawned as Darren took her by the arm with his free hand, his other resting on his cane head, and he smiled at her.

"This way please," he said.

"Alright, whatever."

They had come all the way downtown, down near the docks, and Emma was curious. Darren had never made any sort of statement about wanting to see the ocean, but here they were, walking alongside a dozen or so boats sitting in the gentle water, bobbing ever so slightly. As they walked, Emma couldn't help but wonder when he'd planned this. Sure, he'd had plenty of time to be alone in his hospital room, but this seemed like it would've taken longer than just a few days to put it all together.

"Darren, this is very romantic and everything, but I am so exhausted, and very hungry," Emma said, yawning again, "I really need to get something to eat."

"Don't worry, we'll have something to eat," Darren said, as they turned a corner and saw a table set up on the dock, complete with a beautiful lace tablecloth, candles and two chairs. A small metal bucket filled with ice was beside it, chilling a bottle of wine, and there was a woman standing there, who - upon seeing them approaching - began playing violin. Emma felt her eyes begin to water, as she lifted her hand to her face in shock.

"What...is this?" she asked.

"What do you think it is?" Darren asked, as he pulled her seat out for him, letting her sit down before he went to the other seat and sat down himself. He leaned his cane against the table and sighed, looking across the table at her.

"...why are you doing this?" Emma asked.

"Because when I was lying in that apartment, stabbed and bleeding in agonizing pain, I realized that I might die and you'd never know just how much I love you. How much I admire you. You deserve that," Darren said, "All I could think of was 'I need to stay alive, if only to see her one more time', because I didn't get to ask you something I meant to ask for ages. Something I'd put off forever."

A waiter came to the table and set down a small metal tray down, pulled the lid off and revealed a small glass full of vanilla ice cream, Emma's favorite, and in the top of it popping out, a ring. Emma looked at the ring and then looked at Darren, who just nodded and smiled. She reached towards it and pulled it out from the ice cream, looking at it now in her hand.

"This is-"

"It's 33 carrots," Darren said, "It was my grandmothers. Emma, whatever issues we have, we will work them out, because I can't imagine my life without you. I don't want to split up over one little indifference, and I will do whatever it takes to make this work. I love you, and I've loved you for so long now that I don't know that I could live a life that doesn't include loving you. I definitely know I don't want to try though."

Darren, helping himself up with his cane, stumbled around the table, took the ring from her finger, dropped slowly to his knee and took her hand as he slipped it on her finger. Emma couldn't help it anymore, she was sobbing now, the biggest smile on her face.

"Emma, will you be my wife?" he asked.

"Absolutely baby," Emma whispered, leaning in, kissing him.

But that night, in the car ride home - after they'd eaten on the dock and been serenaded by the violinist - Emma couldn't help but wonder if this was merely a reaction to his near death experience, or if he actually wanted to marry her. Twisting the ring around her finger, its rose gold band flickering under the brief moments of overhead streetlamps splashing the cars interior with light, Emma knew that whatever the reason, she couldn't argue with the decision. All she'd ever wanted was Darren, and he was willing to sacrifice whatever it was he wanted to be with her.

And that killed her.

                                                                                              ***

Melanie was sitting on the couch, staring at Gus's phone, and breathing heavily. Gus and Bea were still out for the night, and this was the only chance Melanie might get. She took a swig of water, popped her meds and swallowed, then picked up the phone and dialed a number. It rang a few times, before someone finally answered.

"Hello, this is Warwick Mental Health Hospice, how may I direct your call?" the receptionist asked, and Mel sighed.

"My name is Melanie Irres, and I...I'd like to speak to a patient if I can. Um, their name is Lisa and-"

"Patients are not allowed to have personal calls," the receptionist said, "and frankly, that particular patient, if it's the one I'm thinking of, isn't allowed to have any outside interactions at the moment. Would you like me to take a message I can give them at a later date?"

"...no, that's okay. Th-thank you," Melanie said, hanging up and staring at the phone.

She'd opened herself up to someone, and it had backfired. She began to think back to when she met Gus, and Emma and Darren and how it seemed like everyone pitied her, or simply put up with her, at the risk of their own lives and happiness, and she felt worse. Melanie laid down on the couch and hugged a pillow to her chest, starting to sob. Even after all that had happened, even after what she'd done, all Melanie wanted to do was talk to Lisa and ask her...

...ask her why she had to be the dark wizard who threatened her kingdoms peace and prosperity.
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Allie could hear the screams echoing around her, she could hear the sounds of someone firing a gun and the sound of a tiger growl, but she couldn't focus clearly enough on one singular thing long enough for it to make a lick of sense to her brain. All she did know for certain was that she was on her back on the floor, staring up at the stage lights overhead.


"Jesus fucking christ," she heard someone scream nearby, as a stage hand raced to the stage from the audience seating area and leapt up, crawling towards Allie. She could feel them touching her, but she didn't know where, and she could hear their walkie talkie going off, but she couldn't make out the words through the static. As her head rolled to her side, she looked at her left hand and noticed her wrist was bent backwards, and crimson red, muscle sticking out. It looked nearly detached from her arm, and yet she couldn't feel anything. She'd later learn this is a common occurrence when dealing with serious trauma and pain.


"Fuck," Allie mumbled, "that sucks."


And then she blacked out.


                                                                                      ***


"Did it hurt?" Zoe asked, as she and Allie sat in the casino at the slot machines, Allie pumping quarters from a plastic cup into the machine as Zoe drank some pink fruit drink with very little alcohol in it.


"What? Almost losing my hand?" Allie asked, and Zoe nodded, making Allie sigh; she shrugged and said, "I don't think so. I was so out of it when I woke up that I...I couldn't really feel anything, and then the painkillers they prescribed me were so heavy duty that I couldn't feel it after that either. Took a long time before I could really use my left hand again though, and even now it doesn't fully work properly."


"You're so lucky it didn't attack your face," Zoe said softly, and Allie laughed.


"Lucky? Is that what you'd call it? I'd rather they destroyed my face," Allie said.


"What happened to the tiger?" Zoe asked, and Allie shut her eyes, breathing deeply.


"So," Allie asked after a moment, "Got any ideas for your stage name?"


                                                                                     ***


Zoe opened the door to the house and hung her car keys on the little hook by the door before getting further in. She pulled her jacket off and headed into the kitchen, finding her sister there, making a pot of coffee. As Zoe opened the fridge, she raised a brow at this.


"Coffee?" she asked, checking her watch, "It's really late."


"I have to work on something all night," her sister, Thea, said.


"Oh okay," Zoe replied, pulling out the carrot juice carton from the fridge and then, grabbing a glass from the cabinet, poured herself a glass. As she leaned against the counter and watched Thea pour herself coffee, Zoe couldn't help but think about what Allie had asked her at the casino, about her stage name. She cleared her throat and, tying her hair up, asked her sister, "Do you think you could help me come up with a stage name?"


"Why?"


"You do graphic design and advertising, I just figured you might be able to help better than anyone. It's so hard because nothing starts with a Z," Zoe said, "But I need one if I want to keep my job."


"Could always make up a word," Thea said, sipping her coffee, "Something like The Zantabulous Zoe."


"I'm not 10, although..."


The girls laughed as Zoe sat at the table, Thea seating herself across from her, still sipping on her coffee.


"I'm working with Allie Meers," Zoe said quietly, "You know her? Remember? The woman who got attacked by her tiger, almost lost her hand?"


"No shit, really?"


"Yeah, and she's really cagey. I mean, she's been fairly nice to me, but she...I don't know how to explain it," Zoe said, "she's clearly still very troubled by it. I mean, understandably, as it was probably traumatic as all heck, but I just...I asked her about it tonight, and she wouldn't even really discuss it much."


"Well, don't put her off too much," Thea said, standing up and patting her sisters shoulder, "you need this job."


As Thea left and headed upstairs to her home office, Zoe sat in the kitchen and thought back to that moment, the moment she saw Allie's hand nearly ripped from her arm. Being in the audience that night, standing and staring at the sight as Allie struggled to free her wrist from the tigers mouth only to hear the ripping of flesh and cracking of bone, and hearing Allie scream. Fuck, that scream. She never forgot that scream, ever. She could recall crowd shuffling around her, fleeing for their lives - even though nobody else was in any danger as the tiger had been chained to its post on the stage - and her eyes absolutely transfixed on her hero, bleeding in front of them all.


A regular child might think, "This is terrifying", and be scared away from that profession forever.


But Zoe was not a regular child. If anything, all she thought was...


"This is what I wanna do for a living."


                                                                                       ***


The phone rang, and Nick's hand fumbled around in the dark, grasping for it. He saw the time on its face, 3:15 in the morning, and he groaned. He answered and lifted the phone to his ear, mumbling into the receiver.


"M'ello?" he asked.


"Can you drive me somewhere?" Allie asked, and Nick exhaled, rubbing his face with his free palm, sitting up in his bed new.


"Are you too drunk to drive?"


"Somewhat, but I also can't go alone," she said, and he knew immediately what this was about.


"Yeah, I'll come get you."


Nick got dressed quickly, got into his car and headed over to Card Shark. He found Allie sitting outside, a bottle of beer in her hand in a paper sack, wearing torn jeans and a white t-shirt with a black jacket. She climbed into his car, buckled her seatbelt and he continued driving. Neither one said a word at first, and Allie began turning his radio dials, until she stopped on a late night rock station. She finished her beer, tossed it into his backseat and rested her head on her fist, looking out the passenger window.


"How's your wrist?" Nick asked.


"Always the nurse," she whispered, making him smile.


"Force of habit."


"It's fine. I'm still taking painkillers, obviously," Allie said, "thanks for taking me. I don't like doing this by myself. Try as I might, I'm still pretty fucking terrified of it."


"I get it Al, you don't have to explain it to me," Nick said.


After a good half hour drive, Nick parked and climbed out of the car, Allie doing the same. They'd driven to a small private animal rescue, generally where stage animals go once they retire; animals from circus acts, animals from vegas shows, they all eventually wound up here. As they climbed out of the car, they saw the guard station light come on, and the door open, as a tall, lanky woman with thin glasses and oak brown hair stepped out in her uniform.


"Oh, it's you guys," she said.


"Hey Jenny," Nick said, "Can we get in?"


"Sure," she said, "Let me just shut the cameras off for a minute."


After Jenny killed the cameras, she opened the gate and the three of them walked inside. Allie walked well among them, clearly lost in her own thoughts, leaving Nick and Jenny to walk behind her. Jenny twirled her keyring on her finger as they walked, glancing at Nick every now and then. She spoke, keeping her voice low, so as not to draw Allie's attention.


"You guys haven't been here in a while," she whispered.


"Well, we wouldn't be now except that she needed me to drive. We broke up," Nick said.


"Really?"


"Yeah," Nick replied, "I mean, I ended things, she wasn't...anyway. Thanks for letting us in."


"Of course," Jenny said, "It's a tradition at this point."


After a few minutes of walking, the three of them stopped at a large enclosure, spotting a few tigers within it, lounging and sleeping. Allie stopped and, leaning against the rail, stared into the enclosure in the darkness of the night, looking for her tiger. As soon as her eyes caught him, she wouldn't let her eyes wander again. But the tiger was indifferent, it merely yawned, stretched and laid on its side. Nick and Jenny just stood back, watching from afar, as Allie did her usual ritual.


To think this one moment from this one animal, a few seconds was all it took, would alter her life forever. If it hadn't been for this tiger, she wouldn't had gotten addicted to painkillers, and she wouldn't be the mess she was today. All because of this fucking tiger. Standing there, tears rolling down her face, she couldn't imagine what her life might be like had he not attacked...would she have met someone else besides Nick? Would she have started drinking more anyway? Who knows. She used to be so clean, so sober, and now...now she couldn't stand to look at herself in the mirror. Allie wiped her face on her coat sleeve and felt a hand on her shoulder, glancing to her side to see Jenny standing there, touching her.


"You okay?" she asked, and Allie shrugged.


"How can I ever be okay?" she whispered, "...I'll never be who I was, and I hate who I've become."


"I'm sorry, Allie," Jenny said, and Allie nodded, then turned to face Nick.


"Take me home," she said.


Nick drove her back to the city, and as they pulled back up at the casino, and thus her penthouse, he waited for her to get out of the car, but she was hesitating. She was picking at her tears in her jeans, chewing on her lip, like she wanted to say something.


"You okay?" he asked.


"Thanks for taking me..." she muttered, and Nick nodded as she added, "uh...do you want to come up? You know...come upstairs? It's late, you could get something on my room service since it's all comped anyway. Could just hang, watch TV or something. Or, you know."


"Heh," Nick chuckled, "Much as I appreciate the offer for sex so late at night, I don't think it's a great idea."


"Come on man," Allie said, "Just cause you don't want to be with me romantically doesn't mean we can't have fun, right?"


"Allie-"


"Nick, just...it's not me, right? It's not....it's not because I'm ugly is it?"


"Jesus, you're not ugly, Allie, fuck. You're beautiful, and you-"


Allie wiped her makeup off her face, revealing the long scar on one side of her face, trying extremely hard to keep herself from sobbing. She wasn't really drunk, and she wasn't on pills at the moment. Nick could tell this was coming from somewhere deep inside, something that she was really struggling with.


"Now tell me you believe that," she said.


"Why do you want people to hate you so much?" Nick asked, his voice lowering.


"...i don't know, and i don't care what other people think about me...i just want you to love me," she said.


Nick shook his head and looked away. Allie opened her car door and stepped out, shutting it behind her, not saying a word as she headed inside. As Allie got off the elevator moments later and headed to her door, she spotted someone sitting by it, asleep. Allie approached and nudged them with her shoe, waking them up, only to realize it was Zoe.


"What are you doing here? It's so late," Allie said, as she helped Zoe up and they entered Allie's penthouse.


"I think I came up with a name," Zoe said, yawning, "I couldn't wait until tomorrow to show you, since we have rehearsals tomorrow. I was thinking perhaps I could go with something like The Zealous Zoe!"


"Zealous?"


"It's the only word I could come up with," Zoe said, "If you have any suggestions, please, let me hear them."


Zoe stood there and watched as Allie took her jacket off and walked to the minibar, pulling out a box of chocolates and then, as she was heading back across the room, stopped to stare at her face in the vanity mirror over the dresser. Allie reached up and touched the scar on her face, then looked back at Zoe before holding the candy box out, offering her one, which she happily took, popping it into her mouth.


"That tiger you asked about," Allie said, "he did this to me. Before I came to Vegas, all I wanted to do was perform magic, but eventually you needed to up your game each time, and before I knew it, I was using a tiger. I didn't have to do any of those things. I just wanted to be the best. I wanted to be on top. Animal magic was where it was, and I bought into the pressure. You wanna be like me? Don't. And don't buy into pressure. Don't have a stage name. Just be Zoe, because unlike me, you're cool enough."


Zoe stood there, eating another chocolate, her face frozen in surprise.


"You barely know me and you're saying this?" she asked.


"Yeah, I am, because I don't want to see another magician turn into what I've turned into," Allie said, "Now if you'll open this bottle of wine, I'll show you my scrapbook of the news clippings and gruesome surgery photos I had taken. You know you wanna see it."


It was true, she did want to see it. Zoe nodded, taking the wine and opening it as Allie went and pulled the scrapbook from the bookshelf. Sitting on the couch, plopping the book open with Zoe at her side, still munching on chocolates as Allie started to pour them some wine, she smiled.


"Here's my hand nearly off at the wrist, you can see bone," Allie said.


"Cool," Zoe replied, as Allie took a chocolate from the box.

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About

So Happy Together is a dramedy about couple Aubrey & Brent. After Aubrey plays an April Fools joke on Brent that she's pregnant, Brent confesses out of panic that he actually has a secret daughter with an ex wife, and everything changes overnight.