Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

- Reputation -

“Okay, okay, calm down,” I tell Burton as I pour the cat food into his bowl. He buries his head into it and starts to eat before I’m even finished. I shake my head at him, closing the bag and putting it back onto the shelf. I kneel down to pet him, but he hisses at me, pushing his bowl away from me and continues to eat.

I roll my eyes. “Yeah, sure. Just go on and forget the fact that I am feeding you every single day of your life, huh?”

I turn my head to the door and look around, searching for my other cat. “Taylor?” I call. “Aren’t you hungry?”

I can hear a muffled meow from somewhere down the hallway, but Tay doesn’t show up. I stand up, sighing. “Okay, I’ll just let Burton eat everything alone, then.”

Right as I’ve said these words, my phone starts ringing. I look around for a second before I spot it on the kitchen table where I put it just minutes ago. The display reads Evermore.

“Hey,” I say, picking the phone up.

“Hey,” she answers. “Are you busy?”

I look at Burton who is still eating his and Taylor’s cat food, his head buried in the bowl so that I can only see the top of his head and his ears. “Not really,” I say. “Why are you asking?”

“I was thinking maybe you wanna hang out for a while? We’re at Centennial Park.”

A flash of White comes rushing through the crack in the door and stops about two feet in front of Burton. His head shoots up and he bares his teeth, hissing at the other cat. Taylor tilts her head and looks at the bowl in front of him. He just grabs it with his paws and tries to pull it away from her.

I raise an eyebrow at him, but he doesn’t react, still shielding the bowl from Taylor with his tiny paws.

“And who exactly is we?” I ask Evermore, pushing the bowl away from Burton and towards Taylor with my foot. He looks at me with a death-stare, but finally lets Taylor eat something, too.

“Oh, it’s just me, Folklore and Lover. Those two are boring me to death.”

I crouch down next to Taylor and carefully scratch her behind her ears. “Maybe learn something from it and come right when I call you, next time?” I whisper.

“What did you say?” Evermore asks through the phone.

“Nothing,” I answer. “I was just talking to Taylor.”

“Oh, okay. Tell her hi from me.”

I look at Taylor and raise an eyebrow. “Evermore says hi.”

She lifts her head and looks at me questioningly for a second, before she continues eating.

“I guess I’m supposed to tell you hi back?”

“Kay, thanks.”

Burton slowly toddles over to us, seemingly having gotten over the fact that I gave ‘his’ food to Taylor. I get up and grab my keys from the kitchen counter, looking back at my cats for a second, before I leave the kitchen. They are peacefully eating side by side now, having forgotten their usual feud over the food – at least for the moment.

“So?” Evermore asks. “Are you coming?”

I turn my phone on speaker and put it onto the shelf, grabbing my jacket.

“Already on my way.”

“Kay, cool. I’ll see you in a few minutes, then?”

“Yeah,” I say and slip into my boots.

I hear someone scream at the other end of the line, followed by a laugh.

“Yeah sure,” Evermore shouts to them.

“I gotta hang up now,” she tells me.

“Okay, bye.”

“Bye,” Evermore replies before she hangs up.

“Taylor, Burton?” I call. No reply. “I’ll be gone for a while, be good cats, okay?”

They still don’t show any sign of recognition. Sometimes I feel like most of the time, my cats could literally be dead and I wouldn’t even notice until I tried to feed them.

I slip my phone into my jacket pocket and leave the house, locking the door behind me.

The walk to Centennial Park takes about fifteen minutes.

When I arrive there, I immediately spot Evermore and the others by one of the ponds. She is chasing her sister along the shore, while the third girl, Lover, is standing at the side, watching them. She looks in my direction and our eyes meet, a small smile settling on her lips.

She turns her attention back to Evermore and Folklore, telling them something. Just a second later, both of them stop running and look over at me. I lift my hand and wave. “Hey!”

Evermore drops her bag to the ground and looks at me, a small smile crossing her lips. “Took you long enough.”

I raise an eyebrow. “I only took, like, a few minutes. Not an hour or something.”

“Still.”

“Wow, thanks, Evy,” I say, rolling my eyes.

“Anyways,” she says, glaring at me because of the nickname, “This is Lover, but I think you guys already know each other, right?”

“Kinda,” I reply, giving Lover a quick glance. As far as I know she’s in my history class and I think I remember seeing her at most of Evermore’s birthday parties, since I moved here. Other than that, I’ve barely seen her around.

Evermore looks at her phone’s lock screen and then at us. “Are you guys hungry? Cause we could go and get some pizza.”

I raise an eyebrow. “It’s four pm.”

“And?” Evermore asks. “I still want to get pizza.”

I roll my eyes. “You’re such a child sometimes.”

“So,” Lover pipes in. “Are we getting pizza now or should we just stay here and argue for the rest of the day?”

“Mhm, sure,” I grumble, starting to walk toward the pizzeria.

The others follow close behind, and Evermore soon catches up to me.

“Have you finished your physics essay, yet?” she asks.

“Yeah,” I say. “I’ll probably have to work over it once more, but I think I’m done with the first draft.”

“Can you help me?”

I turn my head to look at her, raising an eyebrow. “How am I supposed to help you?”

“I don’t know, just… help me. Somehow.” She looks at me with a pleading look in her eyes. “Please?”

I shake my head. “It’s not that hard, Evy.”

“Ugh, I hate it when you call me that.”

“Okay, sure, Evy,” I say, a small grin spreading across my face.

She glares at me while we walk out of Centennial Park and onto the streets of our small town.

“What?” I ask. “It suits you.”

“No, it doesn’t,” she protests. “It sounds like a nickname for some cute baby rabbit or something.”

“I was thinking of a cat, actually,” I tell her.

She snorts. “Yeah, sure. Maybe you should consider getting another cat so you can name her Evy.”

Lover catches up with us, walking beside me, with Folklore on her other side. We take up most of the street, but it doesn’t seem like anyone really cares.

“You have a cat?” she asks, looking at me.

“Two, actually,” I answer.

“That’s cool.”

Evermore sighs. “Lover, please.”

“What? I was just asking.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Lover loves cats,” Folklore pipes in. “She has one, too.”

“Kay, cool.” I give her a quick glance from the side. “What’s its name?”

“Benji,” she says. “Well, actually Benjamin Button, but I just call him Benji most of the time. He’s a Ragdoll and, like, a super model or something.”

“And he’s really cute,” Folklore adds.

Evermore groans. “Can we please talk about something other than cats now?”

I ignore her, looking at Lover instead. “Do you have any pictures?”

“Sure,” she says, fumbling for her phone. She unlocks it and opens the gallery, scrolling through her photos, before giving me her phone. “That’s from last summer, I don’t think I have any newer ones that are good.”

I look at the photo. It shows Lover with a young Ragdoll cat in her arms, smiling at the camera. Unlike now, the tips of her blonde hair are dyed blue, instead of pink.

I hand her phone back to her. “He’s really pretty.”

“I know.” She smiles at me. “What about your cats? Do you have any pics?”

“Yeah, wait a sec.” I pull out my phone and scroll through my gallery. There aren’t that many photos, and most of them are in black and white, so it doesn’t take me that long to find one. “They’re American Bobtails,” I say when I’ve opened the photo, handing her my phone.

“So, this is Taylor,” I tell her, pointing at the white cat. “And the grey one’s Burton. They don’t really like each other or me most of the time, so this is, like, the only even kind of good photo that I got of both of them.”

“Oh my god, you did?” Evermore asks from besides me, before Lover can even open her mouth to respond. “Can I see?”

I raise an eyebrow at her. “I thought you didn’t want to talk about cats?”

“I don’t,” she answers. “I just want to see that photo.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Lover gives me my phone back with a small smile on her lips. “They look cute. I wish I could see them in person, some time.”

“Maybe you can,” I reply, passing on my phone to Evermore.

“Awww, thanks,” Lover says, smiling at me. “You’re really nice.”

I raise an eyebrow at her, but don’t say anything. She doesn’t have to know that I don’t actually mean what I just told her.

“Wow,” Evermore exclaims, my phone still in her hands. “Burton doesn’t even look like he’s planning to kill you and Taylor, for once.”

“I know right?” I say, snatching my phone back from her before she can start to scroll through my photos. And I know she would.

“Hey!” she protests, but doesn’t make any attempts to get it back, instead turning into the street to our left and taking the stairs up to the pizzeria. “What pizza do you guys want?”

We settle for two simple cheese pizzas that we can share and sit down on the sidewalk outside of the pizzeria, waiting for our order to be ready.

“So,” Evermore says, “what are you guys up to this weekend?”

“Nothing really,” Lover replies.

“Me neither,” I say.

Lover looks at Folklore. “What about you?”

Evermore raises an eyebrow. “She’ll spend all the time reading, what else did you expect?”

Folklores rolls her eyes. “And how exactly would you know that?”

“Cause you rarely do anything else.”

Folklore stays silent after that.

“See,” Evermore says, triumphantly.

Lover sighs next to me. “Leave her alone, Evermore. It’s not like you’re that different from her.

“Thanks,” Folklore says, giving Lover a small smile. Now that I think about it, I’ve rarely ever seen Folklore smile.

“So, if none of us have any plans for this weekend,” Evermore says, changing the subject, “Can’t we all have a sleepover or something?”

“Um, sure,” Lover replies. “I’ll have to check with my mom but I think it should be alright.”

“Cool,” Evermore says, her eyes drifting to me. “What about you, Rep?”

“I don’t know,” I say, hesitantly. “I’ve… got a lot of school work to do, so I don’t think so.”

Evermore groans. “Oh, come on, Rep. Just this once.”

“No, sorry.”

Lover’s gaze drifts from Evermore to me and back. “Why ‘just this once’?”

“Cause I’ve been trying to talk her into having a sleepover with me for, like, the past two years,” Evermore tells her. “And she always comes up with some stupid excuse.”

I roll my eyes. “It’s not my fault that I don’t have as much free time as you do.”

“You could’ve done your school work right after we got it, instead of waiting until the deadline is only a few days away.” She looks at me accusingly.

“Well,” I say, “fact is, I didn’t. So, I have to do it now.”

“Ugh, you’re killing me.”

“Can’t you do your homework real quick and then have a sleepover with us?” Lover chimes in.

I look at her. “I can’t just write a five-page-essay real quick.”

“Please?”

I want to tell her no, but the pleading look in her blue eyes just won’t let me.

I sigh. “I’ll think about it, okay?”

“Thanks.” She smiles at me. “I can try to help you with that essay, if you want to.”

“Mhm, I think I’ll manage to do it on my own, but I’ll let you know if I should need any help.”

“Promise?”

“Yeah.”

Evermore raises an eyebrow at me, but doesn’t say anything, instead turning to Lover.

“How’d you just do that? You have to teach me.”

In that moment, a guy comes out of the pizzeria with two pizza boxes. “Your order is ready,” he says.

Evermore gets up to take the boxes from him and gives him the money. “Thanks.”

He smiles at her, shortly, and then goes back inside.

Evermore looks at us. “Should we go back to the park?”

“Sure,” Lover replies, getting up and holding out her hand for me. I get up on my own, ignoring her for the moment.

She just shrugs, holding her hand out to Folklore instead, who takes it.

We walk back toward Centennial Park, the boxes still in Evermore’s arms. I catch up with her, trying to open the top one, but she turns away from me. “Forget it. You can wait until we’re at Centennial Park and then you might get some pizza.”

“But I’m hungry,” I complain.

She raises an eyebrow. “Weren’t you making fun of me for wanting pizza just a while ago?”

I roll my eyes. “It doesn’t matter now, just give me that pizza.”

“No.”

“Can I have a slice?” Lover asks from behind us.

Evermore hesitates, but then turns around to walk backwards and let’s Lover open the box and take a slice.

“Hey!” I protest. “You’re not being fair.”

She sticks out her tongue at me. “It’s all your fault.”

Before I can think of anything mean to say to her, Lover hands me her pizza slice. “This is for you.”

I take it, a little surprised. “Um, thanks?”

She smiles. “You’re welcome.”

“You can’t just betray me like that, Lover,” Evermore chimes in.

Lover’s eyebrows scrunch together, and I can’t help thinking how cute it makes her look.

“I didn’t betray you,” she says, snapping me out of my thoughts. “I was just trying to be nice to Reputation.”

“Yeah, sure.” Evermore rolls her eyes. “You were just trying to be nice to some random girl you just met instead of being on your cousin’s side. Whom, by the way, you’ve known for the better part of your life.”

“Exactly.”

“You’re such a traitor,” Evermore declares, making an attempt to put her hand to her heart, but quickly giving up when the pizza boxes are threatening to fall to the ground. “Shit, these boxes are fucking heavy,” she breathes.

Lover holds out a hand. “I can take one,” she offers, but Evermore shakes her head. “No thanks, I don’t trust you anymore,” she says, playfully. Her gaze drifts to me. “Actually, I trust none of you guys, before you get any ideas, Rep.”

I take a bite of pizza, raising an eyebrow, but don’t say anything. Folklore is right behind us, typing something into her phone.

I turn my head to look at her. “What are you writing?”

“Oh, um…” She puts her phone into her pocket. “Just a few lyrics that came to my mind.”

“Can I read?” Evermore chimes in.

“No? I’m not really finished yet,” Folklore says.

“Still?”

Lover pipes in before Folklore can respond. “Just leave her alone, Evermore. You know that she doesn’t like it when someone’s reading her lyrics.”

“Yeah, sure.” Evermore rolls her eyes.

We turn left and enter Centennial Park, sitting down at the shore where I met the others earlier. I put the last piece of pizza into my mouth, quickly chewing it and swallowing, before reaching for one of the boxes.

Evermore swipes my hand away, looking at me with a taunting look in her eyes.

“You just had a slice. I want to eat something, too, now.”

I roll my eyes. “Oh, I’m sorry. How rude of me to not let the mighty Queen Evermore take a pizza slice first. Please forgive me, your majesty.” I bow my head just a little.

Evermore snorts. “Really Rep? And you call me childish?”

“Just shut up and take your pizza,” I tell her.

She shakes her head, a grin spreading across her face. “You’re impossible.”

My gaze drifts to Folklore and Lover, who are sitting opposite from us, already sharing one of the pizzas. I notice that Lover is watching us, a smile on her face. Our eyes meet for a second, but she quickly looks away.

Before I can think any more about it, Evermore passes me the pizza box. “I’m gonna kill you if you take more than one slice.”

I snort. “Yeah sure. And then you’ll end up in jail without any pizza at all.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Don’t underestimate me. I have a boating license, remember? No body, no crime.” She takes a bite of her pizza slice, looking satisfied with herself.

“You wouldn’t even know how to kill me,” I point out.

She glares at me. “Don’t act like I’m a child. I’ve read enough crime books to know at least a little about murder.”

“Hey, guys,” Lover pipes in, “can’t we all take a picture?”

“Sure,” Evermore replies, dropping her plans about killing me. For the moment, at least. She pulls out her phone, gesturing for Folklore and Lover to come and sit next to us.

I groan. “Do we really have to do this?”

“Yes.” Evermore holds out her phone, turning on the selfie mode. “Everybody smile. Don’t look so annoyed Rep.”

I force myself to smile at least a little bit while Evermore takes a photo. She puts her phone back into her pocket when we’re done.

“Can you send it to me, later?” Lover asks, sitting back down on her spot.

“Sure,” Evermore replies. “I’ll send it to y’all when I’m at home.”

Chapter Text

- Lover -

I lie in my bed and stare at my phone, scrolling through Instagram. Evermore still hasn’t send me the photo, so I open her profile, clicking the DM button.

misstaymericana17: Hey

She doesn’t respond, so I just drop my phone and reach for the book on my bedside table, instead. Folklore gave it to me last week, insisting that I should read it. I manage a few pages, before I reach for my phone again. Evermore still hasn’t responded, so I send her another DM.

misstaymericana17: Evermore, answer me

Still waiting for a response, I open up her profile again and scroll through her following list. Folklores account is shown right at the top, but most of the other accounts she’s following are either famous singers and actors, dark-academia-aesthetic accounts or people I don’t know.

I’m about to close the list again, when an account called @reputaytionsnake13 catches my eye. I open the profile, hoping to find some pictures, but the account is private. The only photo I can see is the profile picture, which shows a girl from behind, standing on some kind of bridge that overlooks a city – London, I think.

Nevertheless, I recognize her immediately. The way she’s standing there, like she was a queen, and the color of her straight hair, somewhere between dark blonde and light brown. Not to mention the username. It was what made me open her account in the first place.

I take my eyes off the picture, reading her bio instead: Be like a snake. Be nice to people until they step on you.

There are three snake emojis after that. I draw my eyebrows together, trying to understand whatever this quote is supposed to mean. For a while, my finger still hovers above the Follow-button.

But before I can decide whether to press it or not, my phone vibrates, showing a new DM from Evermore in my notification list. I open it.

lonelywitch: hey

misstaymericana17: Can u send me the photo pls?

lonelywitch: yeah sure
lonelywitch: forgot about it yesterday
lonelywitch: sry

misstaymericana17: No problem :)

lonelywitch: [photo]
lonelywitch: here you are

misstaymericana17: Thanks <3

I open the photo and get up, walking into the hallway and over to our printer.

“Lover?” my mom calls from the kitchen. “Did you give Benji his food, already?”

“No,” I reply, pressing print on my phone. “I’ll do it right away, just tell him to wait a second.”

“Okay.”

I take the photo out of the printer and go back to my room, putting it onto my desk.

Mom is sitting at the kitchen table, eating breakfast when I enter the room, while Benji paces the floor, meowing when he sees me. I bend down to pet his head and then take the cat food out of the cupboard, opening it and pouring some into his bowl.

Mom pats the chair next to her, folding her newspaper and putting it to the side. “Come here, darling.”

I take a plate and a toast from the counter and the sit down with my mom. She smiles at me. “So, what have you been doing yesterday?”

I reach for the butter and spread it on my bread. “Um, not that much. I was in the park with Folklore, Evermore and this other girl, Reputation.”

“Okay,” mom says. “Was she nice?”

“Yeah? I guess she was.”

Mom watches me, an unreadable expression on her face, before she takes a sip of coffee. “Maybe you want to invite her over some time?”

I reach out for the strawberry jam. “Mom, please.”

“What?” she asks. “You need some friends, Lover.”

I focus my gaze onto the toast on my plate as I cover it with a thin layer of jam. “I have Folklore,” I say. “And Evermore.”

Mom sighs and gets up from the table, leaving her plate in the sink. “I know, darling. It’s just… don’t get me wrong, they’re great friends for you. But sometimes, I just feel like you should have other friends, too. Outside of our family.”

I put down my toast onto my plate. “Mom, they’re just my cousins. It’s not like we live in the same house or see each other every day, or anything.”

“I know, darling.” She sighs. “I have to go now, or I’ll be late for work. Sorry.” She gives me an apologizing smile. “I’ll be back for dinner.”

“Mhm,” I murmur. “Sure.”

She grabs her keys from the kitchen counter and plants a soft kiss onto my forehead. “I love you.”

“Love you too.”

She’s already halfway out the door, when she turns around again. “Oh, and darling?”

“Yeah?”

“Could you please do the dishes later?”

“Yeah. Sure.” For her sake, I force myself to smile a little.

“Thanks, you’re the best!” With that, she’s out of the door, and just a minute later I can hear the apartment door falling shut behind her.

A few hours later, I’m sitting on the couch, wrapped up in a blanket and with a chocolate bar on my lap. I’m clicking through Netflix, trying to find something that I can watch, when a movie called The life of Rebekah Harkness catches my eye. I’m pretty sure folklore recommended it to me a while ago, so I click play, and the intro starts playing.

Benji hops up onto the couch and lies down next to me, his back pressed against my leg. I watch him, smiling, as his eyelids flutter close.

I’ve been watching the movie for barely twenty minutes, when my phone starts ringing. I glance over at where it is laying on the coffee table, already half expecting it to be my mom with her usual questions about if everything is okay and if she remembered to turn off the hearth.

But the display reads Evermore <3.

I reach over to grab my phone and pause the movie.

“Hi?”

“Hey,” Evermore replies through the phone. “I just wanted to check if you’ve heard anything from Rep? Because of the sleepover, I mean.”

I shake my head, even though she can’t see it. “No. Why would she even tell me whether she’s able to come or not?”

Evermore sighs. “Okay. I don’t know, it’s just that she’s ignoring my messages and calls, so I thought maybe you talked to her or something. But nevermind, I’m just gonna try to call her again.”

“Okay.”

Evermore pauses for a second. “Do you wanna come over anyway? We don’t need to have a sleepover or anything, but I’m kinda bored, so I thought maybe you wanna hang out?”

“Sure, I reply, picking up the control again to turn off the tv. I'll have to finish watching the movie another time. “I’ll be right there,” I tell Evermore, as I get up, careful not to wake up Benji.

“Okay, cool. See ya.” She hangs up.

The walk to Evermore’s and Folklore’s house takes about half an hour. When I ring the doorbell, Evermore pulls the door open just a few seconds later. “Hey.”

“Hey,” I reply, stepping inside.

I take off my jacket and shoes and follow her upstairs and into her room.

“Folklore’s at her guitar lesson,” she says and sits down on her bed.

“Okay.” I let my gaze drift through the room. Evermore has been living here for as long as I can remember, and the beige wallpaper with the brown pattern on it is still the same as it was years ago.

The tall bookshelves that are covering almost one entire wall, and the vintage desk in front of the window are all made of the same dark wood.

I walk over to said desk and look at the half-finished painting that is standing there on a small easel.

It shows a willow tree, its branches bending in the wind. The colors are darker than what most people might would’ve used, but I wouldn’t have expected anything else from Evermore.

“It’s beautiful,” I say and turn around to look at her. She smiles a little. “Thanks. I think I’ll have to work over the leaves later.”

I sit down next to her. “So, what are we gonna do now?”

“Honestly? I have no idea.”

We’re both quiet for a while, hanging after our thoughts, until Evermore eventually breaks the silence. “Have you really not heard anything from Rep?” She asks.

I shake my head. “No. I already told you that, though.”

Evermore sighs. “Yeah, I know,” she says. “It’s just that I’m kinda mad at her right now, cause she ditches me every single fucking time I ask her to hang out.”

“But she came yesterday,” I throw in.

Evermore scoffs. “Yeah, sure. Cause she was bored.”

I look at her, confused. “What’s so bad about that?”

“That she only ever has time for me when everyone else is busy.”

I stay silent, and watch her, not quite understanding what she’s trying to say.

“You know,” Evermore says after a short silence, “I just wish she would at least try to find a little time for me sometimes.”

“Maybe you just need to give her a few days. I’m sure she’ll come back to you eventually.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” She doesn’t exactly sound convinced, but drops the topic after that.

“So,” she says, her eyes wandering around the room, “what do you wanna do?”

I shrug and try to come up with something. But before I can, Evermore gets up and grabs my hand, pulling me along with her. “I’ve got an idea,” she exclaims when we’re out of her room. I follow her down the stairs and into the kitchen.

Evermore stops and turns around to look at me. “How about we make some cookies?”

I grin, already pulling out my phone to find a recipe. “Sure.”

Before I can even open Google, Evermore is next to me and snatches the phone out of my hand.

“Hey,” I complain, but she just ignores me.

After a few seconds she holds the display in front of my face so that I can see the recipe she opened. “We’re either gonna make these cookies or none at all,” she declares.

I frown. “Chai cookies?”

“Yes.” She hops onto the kitchen counter and opens one of the top shelves, pulling out a bowl.

“I didn’t know you liked chai tea,” I say, still frowning.

“Well, I don’t,” she says. “But 1989 made these cookies for one of her parties this summer and they were so good.”

She hops off the counter again and strolls through the kitchen, pulling out several ingredients, and puts them onto the working surface.

When I take another look at the recipe, I realize that it’s from 1989’s blog, all written in her handwriting.

“Okay, so you can start with beating the butter,” I tell Evermore while I make my way over to the oven.

“Already on my way,” she declares.

I take the baking trays out if the oven and then put it on 350°F.

“Can you turn on some music?” Evermore asks.

“Sure, what kind?”

“Um…” she thinks for a second. “Whatever.”

I scroll through Spotify, deciding on a mixed pop and indie playlist that we both created together with Folklore a few months ago.

Half an hour later, we sit at the kitchen table, waiting for the cookies to finish baking, when Folklore peeks through the door. “Hey guys.”

“Hey,” I reply, getting up to hug her. She drops her guitar bag on the floor and returns my hug, her eyes quickly finding the light from the oven in the otherwise pretty dim kitchen. “You’re making cookies?”

“Yeah.” Evermore turns off the oven and opens the door. The scent of chai and fresh cookies immediately fills the air. “God, I’m starving,” Folklore declares.

We settle for a simple icing, quickly covering the cookies with it and adding some cinnamon. Then we take a plate full of cookies into the living room and settle on the couch, blankets wrapped around all three of us. Folklore reaches for a cookie and takes a bite, while Evermore scrolls through Netflix.

“Oh my god, this is so good,” Folklore says through a mouthful of cookie. She swallows. “By the way, have you heard anything from Reputation?”

“No.” From the way she says it, I can tell that Evermore is still mad at her.

“Oh, okay,” Folklore says. Then, as if on some kind of intuition, she switches the topic. “By the way, I talked to Speak Now earlier today and she said that she and Red overheard some of the teachers talking, and apparently some kind of event is going to start next week, but they couldn’t get any details.”

Evermore stops furiously attacking the controller and drops it into her lap. She turns her head and looks at Folklore, eyebrows slightly furrowed. “What does ‘some kind of event’ mean?”

“I don’t know,” Folklore replies. “Speak Now thinks it’s some sort of show, but I’m not sure.”

“Did she say anything about, like, what kind of show it’s gonna be?” I ask.

Folklore shakes her head. “She didn’t tell me any details.”

“Oh, come on,” Evermore groans. “You have to know something about this show or whatever it is.”

Both of us look at Folklore expectantly. She sighs. “I already told you all I know.”

“Liar.” Evermore pulls out her phone and starts typing something. I glance over her shoulder to get a better look, and realize she’s texting Speak Now on Instagram.

“Can we watch something now?” Folklore asks, already chewing another cookie.

“No,” Evermore replies, her eyes fixated onto her phone’s screen. “I’m gonna get all the information out of you dirty liars first.”

Folklore looks at me, her expression something between desperate and amused. “Why doesn’t she believe me that I don’t know any more than you two?”

Before I can think of anything to say, Evermore drops her phone onto the couch with an exasperated sigh. “Why do people always have to be cryptic? I need answers. Now.”

“What did Speak Now say?” I ask, glancing at her phone, but unable to make out any of the texts they’ve furiously sent back and forth.

“Nothing understandable,” Evermore responds, already picking up her phone again. “I’m going to force her to talk to me now.”

She hits the video call button and just a second later Speak Now’s face appears on the screen. She’s grinning widely, her dark brown curls held back from her face in a ponytail, as usually.

“Heyyy Evermore!”

Evermore glares at her. “You better tell me right now what all of this is about.”

Speak Now raises an eyebrow. “Or what?”

Evermore scowls. “Do I really have to repeat all of my threats?”

Speak Now seems to consider it for a second. “Nah, I’m good, thanks. They were already scary enough in text.”

I scoot a little closer to Evermore, and my face appears next to hers in the small rectangular box in the corner of her phone. “Hey, Speak Now,” I say.

She beams at me. “Hey, Lover. Jeez, I haven’t seen you in ages.” She studies me for a moment. “Is your hair pink?”

I take a strand of my hair in my hands, twirling it around my finger absentmindedly. “Yeah.”

She grins. “Suits you.”

I smile. “Thanks.”

Evermore rolls her eyes. “Are we done with the reunion talk now? Cause I actually want answers, you know.” Her eyes lock on Speak Now.

The other girl grins at something slightly off to the right of the camera. “Red says I’m not supposed to tell you anything.”

“Since when do you listen to what other people tell you to do?”

“Since I think it’s funny to annoy you.”

By now, Evermore looks like she’s actually going to murder someone if she doesn’t get her answers soon. “Shut up and just tell me what all of this is about.”

Speak Now sighs. “Alright.” She gets up, and covers the mic with her hand, causing a flow of disruptive images of her room to flash over Evermore’s screen. I hear her talking to Red but can’t make out the words.

Evermore scowls at her phone. “I swear-“

She is interrupted when Speak Now’s face reappears on the screen a moment later. “Okay, so we couldn’t get any details, but-“ Her eyes flicker around quickly, as if she wants to make sure that no one is overhearing us talk. “-I’m gonna tell you everything I know.”

“Finally,” Evermore mutters under her breath.

The couch gives in a little when Folklore flops down next to me, her eyes on Speak Now.

“Apparently,” Speak Now says, “They have this show planned.”

“Yeah, we already know that,” Evermore puts in.

“I wasn’t finished yet,” Speak Now continues, glaring at Evermore. “You can’t just interrupt me all the time.”

“Then get to the point.”

“I was getting there.” The ceiling behind Speak Now is moving and it’s obvious that she is walking somewhere. “So, as I said, there’s supposed to be a show. And as far as we understood it’s gonna be some kind of contest, too.” She looks at us through the screen. “For singing and songwriting.”

“What!?” Evermore practically shrieks into my ear. “Are you serious?”

Speak Now’s face splits into a wide grin. “Yep. One of us all is so going to win.”

The phone is ripped from Speak Now’s hands, followed by an irritated “Hey!" and a moment later Red’s face appears on the screen.

“It’s me,” she announces. “I’m going to win.”

Evermore grins. “Never.”

Speak Now snatches the phone back from Red. “This is sure going to be one hell of a contest.”

I can only agree on that.

Chapter Text

- Fearless -

Rain is pouring down, soaking through my clothes and down to my skin. I usually love rainstorms, but right now I just want to be inside in the warmth and put on some dry clothes. Maybe I should’ve listened to my mom and brought a jacket, after all.

I curse under my breath. Where is Debut? She should’ve been here nearly five minutes ago.

Just when I want to leave for school without her, she rounds the corner, panting. “Sorry,” she gasps between breaths, “I had to help Tim find his math book; he really doesn’t know how to keep track of anything.”

“It’s okay,” I say, setting off to our school. Tim is Debut’s seven-year-old brother and I’ve only seen him a few times when I was over at hers, since we became friends in seventh grade. But I’ve seen enough to know that she’s right. That boy really doesn’t know how to keep track of his things.

The hallways are filled with people when we arrive at school, as always in the mornings. We leave our bags in our lockers and take only our English books with us.

Abigail is already sitting on the windowsill outside of the classroom, her nose buried in a book. I flop down next to her, peeking over her shoulder to see what she’s reading. She looks up at me. “Hey Fearless.” Her gaze flicks to Debut who is standing next to me. “Hi Debut.”

“Have you done the math homework?” I ask her.

Abigail’s eyebrows scrunch together. They are the same auburn red as her frizzy hair. “Yes, why?”

“Can I copy it later? I forgot it was due today.”

She rolls her eyes at me. “Are you ever going to learn to keep track of your schedules?”

“No,” Debut replies, her eyes on me. “That isn’t ever going to happen. “

I shoot her a glare before turning back to Abigail. “Please? I promise I’ll do it myself next time.”

She sighs. “Alright, but only this once.”

I grin. “Thanks, you’re the best!”

In that moment our teacher arrives, and unlocks the classroom. The three of us hurry inside, claiming two tables at the very back of the classroom. Abigail and I sit next to each other in the third row while Debut takes a place at the table behind ours. A few moments later a boy flops down next to her, I think his name is Corey. But before I can comment anything on it, our teacher Miss Becky greets us. “Good morning, everyone,” she says cheerfully. A few murmured ‘Good Morning’s are all she gets in return, but she seems to be content with that.

“Before we start today’s lesson,” Miss Becky continues, “I have an announcement to make.”

I groan internally. When a teacher is this happy about an announcement, it’s practically doomed to be some stupid assignment or group project.

But Miss Becky’s next words catch me of guard.

“We teachers have noticed that many of you students are interested in poetry and songwriting, and we found that we wanted to encourage your talent. So, we are going to arrange a contest for everyone who wants to participate. You can write either a poem or a song, and it can be about anything you want. The only condition is that it should be no longer than four minutes.”

Miss Becky grabs a stack of sheets from her desk and starts handing them out. “You can find some more information on these flyers. I would ask everyone here to at least think about participating, try to write something and see if it works out. There’s a great prize to win that I’m sure many of you will love.”

The people who sit in the front of the classroom and already have gotten one of the flyers are whispering excitedly, pointing at something on their papers.

Abigail nudges my arm with her elbow, leaning over to me. “That contest would be something for you, huh?”

I turn to look at her. “Maybe. I mean, if the prize really is as cool as Miss Becky said, then I’m definitely in.”

_____________

- Folklore -

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Evermore stares at the flyer in her hand, a look of disbelief mixed with excitement on her face. “They can’t be serious. I bet this is a dream and I’m going to wake up, any moment now.”

“I’m here too, and I can tell you that it isn’t a dream,” Lover says from where she’s sitting on the floor, her back resting against the wall.

Evermore actually looks up from the paper for the first time in a while and rolls her eyes. “Well, dream-you would definitely say that and then laugh her ass off when I wake up and find that she’s a liar.”

Lover shrugs. “Then don’t believe me if you just want to keep staring at that paper like it’s the most amazing thing you’ve ever seen.”

“Well, it is,” Evermore shoots back. The morning sunlight gets caught in her brown hair, making it shimmer golden and her eyes are gleaming with excitement. “It’s Dorothea, you know? The Dorothea.”

“Sure,” Lover replies, gazing into the distance. Or well, at the opposite wall of the corridor.

“What, aren’t you excited about this at all?” Evermore asks.

Lover turns to look at her. “Of course, I am. I’m just not sure if I’ll participate.”

“You should,” I tell her. “You’ve definitely got the talent. And the prize-“

She interrupts me. “I know. I just don’t… feel like singing in front of the whole school.”

Evermore shakes her head. “Come on, Lover. At least try.”

“I’ll… think about it.”

“Well, that’s something at least.”

I turn my attention back to the paper in my hands, equal to the one Evermore has been staring at ever since she got it from our teacher. I’ve scanned it quickly once, but haven’t really read all of the details. There’s plenty of time for that now, before we have our next lesson.

Poetry and songwriting contest, it says at the very top.

We’ve come to notice that many students at our school are talented poets and songwriters, and we therefore only found it fitting to arrange a contest for all of you.

All you have to do is write a poem or a song, that can be about anything you want. It should have a maximum length of four minutes and has to be originally written by you.

You may participate together with a friend, or even in larger groups, but please notice that the price will still be same if you win, and you are expected to find a solution, as to how you will split it up fairly, yourself.

All contributions will be performed at a show on April 19^th, where all students and their families are invited to watch. A selected jury will then pick out three winners, who all get the same prize: 2 tickets to the Dorothea concert in New York on July 13^th, next summer. Please note that this prize is for one contribute, NOT each person who is involved.

Applications for everyone who wants to participate need to be in latest April 1^st. Please feel free to contact me or any other teacher if you have any questions.

Have fun and be creative with this project!

Sincerely, Miss Becky (English teacher)

Mail: [email protected]

I look up from the flyer and my eyes meet Evermore's. She’s already watching me. “This is crazy, right?”

I nod. “Yeah… I honestly wouldn’t have expected any of the teachers to know what kind of prize we would want.”

Evermore tilts her head to one side. “You’re right,” she says. “Although… As stupid as they are sometimes, they seriously couldn’t have missed the fact that Dorothea is famous. She’s like… the most known singer right now. The music industry, Taymerica’s Sweetheart, and whatever else they want to call her.”

I think I can hear a faintly bitter undertone in her voice. Dorothea started out as an un-known indie artist with only few listeners. Evermore has been a huge fan ever since Dorothea dropped her second album a few years ago. It is only natural that she is a little protective, trying to keep the music to herself. But I guess at the same time she’s also grateful for Dorothea’s recent success.

Before I can think any more about it, 1989 joins our little group and takes a seat next to me on the windowsill, but her eyes are on Evermore. “You’re going to win this competition at any price, aren’t you?”

The thoughtful expression that has been on my sister’s face just moments before, now gives place to a wide grin. “Of course,” she says. “I mean I already wanted to win before, but now that I know the price, I just have to. After all, it’s Dorothea we’re talking about.”

“And one of her hopelessly sold-out shows,” 1989 adds. Then she looks at Evermore in slight confusion. “You said before.”

“Well, yeah. Apparently Speak Now and Red accidentally overheard some of the teachers talking about a songwriting contest, so we already knew. Not about Dorothea, though.”

“Oh, okay.” For the first time since 1989 has joined us, she really seems to notice me and Lover. I’m used to it, though. The “cool” girls always just talk to Evermore. But it’s not like I care anyway. Not really.

“By the way,” 1989 says after a moment of silence, “I talked to Reputation this morning. She said she isn’t going to London in autumn break, after all. I think they rescheduled it to Thanksgiving or something like that.”

“Oh, so she’s still alive,” Evermore scoffs. “That’s good to know.”

1989 raises an eyebrow. “You guys had a fight?”

“Not exactly.”

1989 opens her mouth, but before she can say anything, Lover looks up from the bracelet she’s been toying with. “Are you going to participate, 1989?” she asks.

I don’t know how she does it, but somehow Lover always finds the right moment to interrupt a conversation before it gets ugly. Or, in other words, before Evermore loses her temper.

1989 turns to her, a quick look of confusion at the sudden change of topic crossing her face, but then she smiles. “Yeah, definitely. I just don’t know what kind of song I want to write, yet.”

Lover nods, her expression distant. “You should have quite a good chance to win.”

“Thanks, I guess.”

_____________

- Red -

The coffee is still hot when I reach the common room. I sit down on the window ledge, putting my books beside me. Heavy raindrops are running down the window and I watch them, pretending they were racing against one another like I used to when I was a little kid.

I close my eyes, taking a sip of hot coffee out of my mug. I should probably work on my physics assignment instead of sitting here – But honestly, how could our teacher be cruel enough to make us write a ten-page essay only two weeks into the semester?

“There you are.” I open my eyes again to find Speak Now standing in front of me, her arms crossed over a purple sweater. “Why haven’t you answered my messages?”

“What messages?” I ask, confused.

“The messages I sent you like half an hour ago,” Speak Now declares. “I thought you’d check your phone some time, but apparently I was wrong.”

“Sorry,” I murmur, pulling out my phone. Indeed, there are sixteen new text messages from Speak Now and even one missed call. I skip through the messages, not bothering to read what they say.

“I was just going to grab myself a coffee, but there were… quite many people that had had the same idea.”

Speak Now narrows her eyes. “And you didn’t hear your phone ring?”

I shake my head, trying to stop myself from looking annoyed. “It’s muted. You should know that by now.”

Speak Now sighs, sitting down beside me. “Yeah, okay. Sorry for getting at you like that. I didn’t mean to.”

I nod, taking another sip of coffee while I watch Speak Now. Her brown hair is pulled up into a ponytail like it always used to be, even when we were still kids, barely out of kindergarten.

She stops staring out of the window to look at me, instead. “What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing…” I let my gaze drift through the common room, taking in the matching armchairs and couches, as well as the other students hanging out in here. There are more than usual, due to the rainy weather outside.

I can feel Speak Now’s eyes on me, still watching every single one of my moves.

“Do you think there will be many people participating?” I ask.

Speak Now’s eyebrows scrunch together in thought. “You mean in the song contest?”

“Yeah.” I take another sip of my coffee, earning a disgusted look from Speak Now. She doesn’t say anything about it, though. We’ve already had that discussion a long time ago.

She shrugs. “I don’t know. Probably. I mean everyone here does love Dorothea. The question is just how many out of these people really have a talent for music themselves.”

I nod. “You’re right. Have you already started writing a song?”

Her green eyes light up. “Yeah, not that much, but I’ve got a few lines, at least.”

I can’t help but smile a little at her almost childish excitement. “Can I hear?”

“Sure.” She picks up her phone and scrolls through her voice memos, then stops once she finds the right one.

“So, um, this is just a first idea kind of thing, but I was thinking… well, just listen, I guess.” She grins and presses play. Almost immediately a faint guitar melody is audible from her phone’s speaker. She waits a few beats, somewhat nodding her head to the music and then starts to sing quietly, partially reading the lyrics from her phone.

The way you move is like a full-on rainstorm

And I’m a house of cards

You say my name for the first time, baby

And I fall in love in an empty bar

And you stood there in front of me just close enough to touch

Close enough to hope you couldn’t see what I was thinking of

Drop everything now

Meet me in the pouring rain

Kiss me on the sidewalk

Take away the pain

Cause I see sparks fly whenever you smile

She pauses the music after that and looks up at me. “I haven’t gotten anything more, but it’s a start.

“It’s perfect,” I say, setting down my half empty coffee mug on the window ledge between us.

Speak Now smiles at me. “Thanks. I just kinda feel like I should perform this song, because I love the honesty of it all.”

I raise an eyebrow at her, a small grin spreading across my face. “Who is it about then?”

She dismissively waves a hand through the air and rolls her eyes, but I don’t miss the faint blush in her cheeks when she says, “No one specific.”

“If you say so.”

I probably don’t sound very convinced, because Speak Now glares at me. “Really.”

“Mhm, sure.” I have to try hard not to laugh at her partially embarrassed expression. “I won’t tell anyone.”

She throws up her hands in exasperation. “Red, you are insufferable.”

“Love you too,” I say, quickly taking a sip of coffee to hopefully hide my amusement.

“I should’ve known better than to play that song for you,” Speak Now mumbles.

“No. Really, Speak Now, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have made fun of you, it’s just… I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she says after a moment. “That’s just what friends do, right?”

“Right,” I say, grabbing my books and the now completely empty coffee mug, and stand up. “We should go now if we don’t want to be late to math class.”

Speak Now groans. “Please say we don’t really have math now. I hate math. It’s just weird numbers and letters that don’t make any sense.”

I roll my eyes at her. “Oh, come on. I might help you.”

She sighs unnerved, but eventually gets up and follows me to the lockers.

“You know,” she says after a moment. “If you really help me, I might actually tell you who that song was about. Someday.”

Chapter Text

- Evermore -

“You could’ve at least answered my texts, you know.” I stand, my arms crossed over my chest, in front of Reputation and glare at her.

She looks up from her notebook and sighs. “Evermore, please-“

“No,” I cut her off before whatever excuse she wanted to say can leave her lips. “Just listen to me. I’m so sick of this. I can’t with you anymore, lately. You’re always busy, you don’t ever have any time for me at all. And for some reason you can’t even bother to answer my texts. I’m so done with this!”

She slowly puts down her pen. “Evermore.”

“What?” I’m furious. I’m so fed up with her calmness and ignorance that I simply can’t stand it any longer. “What, Reputation?” I ask again, forcing myself to sound at least a little calmer. “I don’t want your apologies. I only want you to make some time for me. Or just leave it be, whatever.”

She rolls her eyes. “Evermore, calm down.”

“I am calm.” Clearly, I’m not. But I’m not doing her the favor of admitting that.

“Sure. But I wasn’t going to apologize.”

For some reason, that hurts even more. “Fine,” I say through gritted teeth. “Then just tell me why you never have time for me.”

“You’re not being fair,” Reputation demands. “It was one time and you’re acting like I’m a total bitch or something.”

“Well, maybe that’s because you are,” I throw back at her, and then turn around to stomp off. Before I leave the library, I look back over my shoulder to glare at her once more. “Just leave me alone, okay?”

Even if I would never admit it, I am a little taken aback by the quick look of hurt, that flashes across Reputation’s face.

_____________

- Reputation -

I spend the next two days trying to talk to Evermore, but she ignores all of my attempts at conversations and leaves my texts unanswered.

On Wednesday afternoon, I find myself sitting at a table in the History classroom alone, twenty minutes before the lesson starts. The past days it has been raining almost nonstop, and even now, dark clouds are hanging deep in the sky.

I notice Lover only when she sits down next to me. Startled out of my thoughts, I turn my head and look at her. Her blonde hair with the pink tips is up in a ponytail, which I don’t think I’ve ever seen on her, but it suits her nevertheless. She’s wearing a washed-out pink sweatshirt with a yellow print, over blue jeans, and I notice that all her outfits seem to consist of at least three different colors.

“Hey,” she says, smiling at me.

I raise an eyebrow. “I didn’t realize you had this class.”

She shrugs. “Well, it’s nice seeing you, too.”

I roll my eyes at that, but it does nothing to discourage her socializing. “How have you been, lately?”

“Fine, I guess.”

From the way her eyebrows scrunch together, I can see that she doesn’t believe me. “How are things going with Evermore? She seemed to be pretty mad at you the other day.”

I ignore her, and take up a pen and start scribbling a small snake onto the table. If it bothers Lover, she doesn’t show. I can still feel her eyes on me, though, so I sigh and look up. “Well, she was.”

“You should talk to her, you know.”

I lean back in my chair and cross my arms, still looking at her. “Trust me, I’ve tried.”

Lover nods, clearly in thought. “Listen, I don’t know what exactly this is between you guys, but you really need to talk about it. I know Evermore and I know that she can be… complicated sometimes. But she’s worth it. Really.”

“Sure.”

Lover sighs. “Reputation, listen. Things haven’t always been easy for Evermore, and I think she’s going through a lot right now, too. I know that I probably shouldn’t interfere with this, but you two seemed to get along so well before. Don’t let her stubbornness about whatever this is take that friendship away.”

I know that she’s right in some way, but I’m not admitting that and I’m not going to try to talk to Evermore again before she doesn’t apologize. I’m sick of people accusing me of things I didn’t do or trying to tell me what to do. My reputation is already pretty much in ruins, so what do I care anymore?

Lover is still watching me, waiting for an answer.

“I don’t need you to tell me what I should or shouldn’t do,” I snap at her and reach for my notebook.

She just shrugs. “Okay, sorry. I was only trying to help.”

“Well, I don’t want your help.” With that, I turn away from her and start scribbling the words, that are on my mind, into my notebook.

Reputation precedes me, they told you I’m crazy

I swear I don’t love the drama it loves me

“You are going to work on a group project,” our teacher declares when there are only a few minutes of the lesson left.

Internally, I groan. Group projects are our teacher’s fun idea of getting us to spend time together and get to know each other. So, naturally, I hate them. I consider going to our teacher after the lesson and asking him if I can work alone instead, but in the next moment he already crushes that fantasy.

“You all will be working in groups. I don’t want to see anyone doing this on their own. However, I will let you choose the groups yourselves. You can work either in pairs or in a group of three, but no more. The task is to create a presentation based on a historic event and link it to society today. You should also explain how it affects individuals as well as the whole world. All presentations will be finished and turned in, four weeks from now.” He pauses, his gaze drifting to the clock on the wall. “We end the lesson now. Have a good day, everyone.”

The moment he has finished speaking, excited chatter breaks loose in the classroom, as everyone tries to find a partner for the project. I roll my eyes at them and start stuffing my books and pens into my bag, when Lover nudges my arm.

I turn and do my best to glare at her. “What?”

“Do you wanna work together?”

I open my mouth and already have a refusal on the tip of my tongue, but then I change my mind. As far as I know from Evermore, Lover’s grades are passable, if not even good, and if I’m going to do this project, I might as well do it with someone who cares. Even if I’m not quite sure how I’m supposed to survive four weeks of Lover’s constant optimism, it’s still better than working with one of those kids who don’t give a shit about their grades.

“Sure,” I say, making it sound as indifferent as possible.

Lover smiles at me. “Cool.” She grabs her backpack and slings it over one shoulder. “You have any more lessons today?”

I shake my head.

“Me neither.” She is actually silent for a few moments while we leave the classroom together and walk through the hallway.

“How are your cats?” she asks then.

“Fine, I guess,” I reply.

“That’s good.” She stops at a side door and glimpses outside to where a single car is parked at the side of the street. “My mom’s picking me up, so I gotta go,” she says.

“Okay.”

She pushes the door open and steps outside, but then turns back to me. “I’ll see you?”

“Yeah.”

She smiles at me once more, and then the next moment she is gone.

When I pull into the driveway by my house, it is once again pouring. I pull the hood of my sweatshirt over my head and grab my things before sprinting to the door.

Both of my parents are still at work, but Austin is sitting on the kitchen floor, Burton purring in his lap. I set down my bag on the counter and search the fridge for something to eat.

“There’s pizza in the freezer,” Austin says from where he’s still sitting on the floor. “Mom said we should eat that. She has to work longer.”

“Great,” I grumble, but get the pizzas anyway. In a matter of minutes, they’re in the oven and I sit down at the table, scrolling through my phone. Evermore is still ignoring all of my pathetic attempts of talking to her, and for a moment I consider sending her another text. But in the end, I don’t.

I put my phone aside and watch Austin. Burton looks half asleep in his lap, and my little brother is running his hands through the cat’s fur, completely lost in thought. I can’t see Taylor anywhere, but then again, she’s hiding most of the time.

“Did you already feed the cats?” I ask Austin.

He looks up, confused for a moment, but then his expression clears. “Yeah. Not Karyn, though. You have to do that yourself.”

“I know.”

Even if Austin is only ten, and basically just super annoying most of the time, I have to admit that at least he is reliable. He carefully lifts Burton of his lap and gets up to sit at the table with me, his blond hair tousled as always.

Burton meows once and then toddles out of the kitchen, probably to search for his sister.

I look at Austin. “Do you know how long mom has to work?”

He shakes his head. “No. By the way, can you… help me with something?”

I raise an eyebrow. “Depends.”

“Please?” He asks, a pleading look in his eyes.

“I can’t just say yes, you know,” I tell him. “You have to tell me what it’s about, first.”

He sighs. “Fine. I want to paint my room.”

“You want to… paint you room? Just like that?”

“Yes.” A defensive look takes over his face. “But mom said I can’t do it myself, so I need your help.”

I hesitate. “Maybe… I mean, not now. But maybe I’ll do it sometime, during autumn break or something.”

A grin splits his face. “Thanks, Rep. You’re the best sister ever.”

I roll my eyes. “You only have one.”

He sticks out his tongue at me. “Exactly.”

_____________

- Evermore -

When I walk out of my piano lesson, it’s pouring again. I don’t really mind the bad weather – actually I kind of like it. It’s almost as if the rainstorm is trying to represent my emotions. I internally roll my eyes at that. Why the hell am I thinking in metaphors now?

“What are you scowling at?”

I turn my head, startled at the voice. I didn’t notice the boy before, but now he pushes himself off the wall he’s been leaning against, and starts to walk alongside me.

“None of your business,” I snap.

“Oh?” He seems taken aback for a moment but then quickly regains his confidence. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude or anything.”

I allow myself to glance over at him, but keep a steady pace. He’s wearing a dark blue hoodie and his muddy blonde hair falls into his eyes, making him push it back every so often. He looks kind of familiar and I feel like I should probably know him, but I can’t figure out why or how. A grin spreads across his face when he catches me looking.

I sigh in annoyance. “It’s fine. And you are?”

“Matthew,” he answers. “But my friends just call me Matt.”

“Well, good for you then. I’m Evermore and my friends also call me Evermore.”

He rolls his eyes at me, still grinning. “Well, yes. I already know your name. I believe we have science class together?”

“Yeah, right.” So that’s why he seemed familiar.

There is a short silence, then he clears his throat. “So… are you walking home?”

“To the bus stop, actually.”

“Let me walk you there?”

“I’m perfectly capable of walking to the bus on my own. Thank you very much.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t doubt that. But I just thought maybe you’d like to keep my company for a bit longer?” A sheepish grin settles on his face and makes me roll my eyes.

“If you insist.”

“Yes.”

Once we reach the bus stop, I take shelter under the roof, and Matthew does the same. Why he is still here, I don’t know. At least he’s quiet, and the only noise is the rhythmic sound of raindrops hitting the roof over our heads.

It’s freezing and I’m pretty sure my clothes are completely soaked with rain, but luckily the bus arrives just a minute later.

Before I enter the bus, I turn around to look at Matthew. “I guess you can go now? Thanks for walking me, though.”

“No problem.” He smiles at me. “I’ll see you around?”

I roll my eyes at him, but for some reason I can’t help but quickly smile back. “Yeah, sure.”

The bus is almost empty, save for a few people in the back, so I flop down in one of the seats and put in my earplugs, scrolling through my phone while I blast Dorothea’s Renegade at full volume.

A notification lights up on my screen.

forestgirl: Heyy, how are you? I just got back to my dorm & thought I’d catch up with you. is everything going okay so far?

I smile at my phone and then click onto the notification to answer her.

lonelywitch: yeah, everything’s okay, I guess. it’s kinda quiet without you around tho
lonelywitch: how’s college going?

forestgirl: It’s great! the coffee on campus sucks tho
forestgirl: And I miss y’all

lonelywitch: we miss u too <3

forestgirl: Aww thnx <3
forestgirl: You had your piano lesson today, right?

lonelywitch: yeah, I’m actually on the bus home rn

forestgirl: Was it good?

lonelywitch: ig. I couldn’t rly concentrate tho cause rep and I had a fight earlier this week and we haven’t been talking since

forestgirl: Oh, not that shit again
forestgirl: Rly sucks

lonelywitch: yeah
lonelywitch: and then there was this strange dude from one of my classes who insisted on walking me to the bus stop after my piano lesson

forestgirl: Ohhhhh I see ;)
forestgirl: Was he cute

lonelywitch: wtf NO stop it
lonelywitch: I didn’t even know his name and he’s definitely NOT cute, just an annoying idiot

forestgirl: NOOO poor boy
forestgirl: Shame on u
forestgirl: Do u at least know his name now

lonelywitch: well yeah. It’s matthew
lonelywitch: but apparently his friends call him matt

forestgirl: Ohhhhhh so it’s you and matt then? ;)

lonelywitch: still no. that’s so gross.

forestgirl: Lol sure
forestgirl: I should probably go and write my stupid essay now, but I expect updates about you and matt

lonelywitch: forget it. there will be absolutely NO updates.

forestgirl: We’ll see ;)
forestgirl: Ily <3

lonelywitch: lyt <3
lonelywitch: (but don’t think that means you’ll get any updates because as I said there will be absolutely none)

forestgirl: sure ;) <33

Folklore is sprawled out on the couch when I get home, a book in her lap. I flop down next to her and peek over to see what she’s reading. When I catch the name Betty from the text, I sigh. “Are you really reading that again?”

Folklore looks up from her book, eyebrows scrunched together. “Yeah?”

I roll my eyes at her, but she doesn’t react, just going back to her book, instead.

“I’m gonna get us some food, I guess,” I tell her, before vanishing into the kitchen. There are some pumpkin pie leftovers in the fridge, and I put them into the microwave, just when my phone lights up with a notification. At first, I think it’s my older sister again, but then I see who the message actually is from.

Reputation.

I sigh. There’s no point in avoiding her forever, is there?

So, I open our chat.

reputaytionsnake13: can we talk?
reputaytionskake13: oh, you’re online
reputaytionsnake13: evermore pls don’t ignore me again

lonelywitch: wasn’t going to, actually

reputaytionsnake13: that’s good ig?
reputaytionsnake13: listen I’m rly sorry because of last weekend
reputaytionsnake13: but I swear I actually couldn’t come
reputaytionsnake13: maybe we can just like hang out another time instead?

lonelywitch: omg stop the rambling, rep
lonelywitch: that isn’t you
lonelywitch: but I believe you, just maybe tell me next time? instead of ignoring my texts, I mean

reputaytionsnake13: oh, shit. so that’s what this all is abt
reputaytionsnake13: I’m so sorry evermore

lonelywitch: it’s okay, just don’t do it again.

reputaytionsnake13: I won’t
reputaytionsnake13: so, are you free this weekend?

lonelywitch: I think so

reputaytionsnake13: cool, wanna hang out?

lonelywitch: sure

reputaytionsnake13: it’s a date

I take the heated-up pie back to the couch and pass Folklore one piece, while I take the other.

We spend the evening binge watching our favorite tv-shows, Folklore occasionally glaring at me and telling me to be quiet when I drop my usual smartass comments.

Even if I never was and probably never will be as close to Folklore as I am to our older sister, It’s still nice to have someone around.

“By the way,” I say when we’re halfway through the third episode. “Rep and I are talking again.”

Folklore shifts where she’s curled up against me and lifts her head. “Well, that’s good.”

I smile. “Yeah. And Woodvale also texted me earlier. Apparently, coffee on campus is shit.”

“Yeah, she told me something similar.” My sister tilts her head and pulls the blankets tighter around herself. “Which reminds me… Who the hell is Matt?”

I groan. “No one. What did Woodvale say about him?”

“Just that you thought he was cute.”

“This traitor,” I reach for my phone, but before I can even unlock it, Folklore snatches it away from me.

“So, is he cute?”

“No. Well, maybe. I don’t know.”

She grins. “Aww, so Woodvale was right.”

I glare at her. “No.”

“No?”

“I do not like him romantically in any way, whatsoever.”

“Mhm, sure. But you think he’s cute.”

“I don’t.”

She raises her eyebrows and I sigh.

“Folklore, please stop that. Okay, maybe he’s kinda cute, but he isn’t my type anyway.”

“If you say so.” Something about her voice makes me think that she doesn’t fully believe me, but I decide to just ignore it. She leans her head against my shoulder, her attention returning to the TV. But after a moment she shifts, changing her position again.

“I miss her.”

I turn to look at her. To my surprise, tears are glistening in her eyes. There’s something a little unsettling about seeing her like this.

“I miss Woodvale too,” I say.

Folklore sniffles. “It’s so quiet without her around. And it hasn’t even been a month yet. I don’t know how I’m supposed to do this.”

“Me neither.” I shift and put my arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer. “But she’ll be here for autumn break, right? Let’s focus on that, instead.”

“You’re right.” Folklore puts her head back on my shoulder and then suddenly smiles. “Did you know Lover and Reputation are working together for a group project?”

“What?”

“I know.”

“How the hell is that supposed to work? They’re literally the exact opposites of each other.”

Folklore actually grins at that. “Well, yeah. It’s definitely not going to work the way it’s supposed to. I just haven’t figured out yet, whether they are the kind of opposites that really, really hate each other, or the ones that attract each other.”

Chapter Text

- Speak Now -

“Oh, come on!” Red slams her physics book shut and glares at it. “This doesn't make sense anymore.”

I turn to look at her, a pile of books, still waiting to be sorted into the shelves, in my arms. “Maybe you should give it a pause?”

“But I just want to get this over with, quickly.” She’s staring at her notes, her eyebrows furrowed. “What the hell is this supposed to mean?”

I put the books onto a random shelf and make my way over to the table Red is sitting at, peeking over her shoulder. “God, I have no idea,” I tell her. “You should really give it a pause.”

She sighs. “Okay, maybe you’re right... need any help with those?” She nods her head into the direction of the piles of books that I still have to put back on the shelves.

I grin. “I’m always right. You don’t need to help me, though.”

Red gets up and grabs the pile of books that I left on the shelf earlier. “I know, but it might help me clear my thoughts.”

I shrug. “Sure, I mean... I’m not gonna stop you from doing my work.”

She rolls her eyes at me, but then smiles as she starts sorting the books into shelves. I grab my own pile and get back to work, too.

Somehow this has kind of become our thing.

I spend the evening working at the library and Red comes along to study, and, occasionally, help me with my work.

I study the inscriptions on the book spines, searching for the right place to put a book, when the sound of loud music tears me from my thoughts. It’s some song that Red loves… we fell in love in october?

“Sorry,” she mutters, pulling her phone out and answering the call.

I sigh, rolling my eyes. How many times have I told her to mute her phone in the library, and she still doesn’t know?

I watch Red, her brows slightly furrowed as she listens to whatever the person on the other end of the line has to say. “Sure,” she says after a while, “just give me a few minutes, okay?”

She hangs up and looks at me. “Jake got off work earlier and he asked if I wanted to, like, go on a date.”

“Oh,” I say. “Okay.”

She sighs. “Speak Now, I’m sorry. I know we were gonna hang out after this, but he’s so busy these days and I just… I don’t want to dump him now that he managed to make some time for me.”

I force a smile onto my lips. “Yeah, sure. I get it. It’s fine, you can just go. I don’t really care, anyway.”

She watches me for a moment, a thoughtful expression on her face. “You sure?”

“Yeah.” I hate how wrong the sweetness in my voice sounds, hate how fake my smile feels. But I hate it even more when she nods and gives me a quick smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah.”

I don’t look at her when she leaves, instead pretending to be busy with the books. Once she left, I grimace. “Stupid Jake,” I mutter under my breath, continuing to sort the books into the shelves. It’s probably strange for me to hate that guy, even though I don’t really know him. But from the few times I’ve seen him, and from what I know from Red, he’s a jerk. Even if she’d never admit it. Honetly, I have no idea what she even likes about him, or why she’s still thinking the two of them will work out after he dumped her… what? Three times?

“Who’s stupid?” I didn’t notice John was here, but now he’s standing right next to me.

I smile at him. “Oh, no one important.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You sure?”

“Mhm.” I flip open the book in my hands, searching for the stamp that reads which section it belongs in and then start making my way down the passages between bookshelves. He follows me.

I do my best to ignore his presence as I sort book after book into the shelves, but I can feel his eyes trained on me. Eventually, I look up to meet his gaze. “What is it?”

“Oh, nothing, You just look cute when you’re working.” He’s leaning against the shelf, in a completely relaxed manner, the muscles on his arms showing. And his tattoos.

I avert my gaze, hoping he doesn’t notice the blush on my cheeks. “I’ll be done in a few minutes,” I tell him, then make my way to another section. Surprisingly, he doesn’t follow me this time.

Once I’m done with all of the books, I find John sitting at the same table where Red was studying for physics just minutes before. “Hey,” I say when I reach him. He gets up, looking me over once, a small grin on his face. “Hey.”

I twist a curl of my hair around my finger, not knowing what to do. Usually, I don’t get nervous this easily,

But John has something unsettling about him. Maybe it’s his smile, or the tattoos, or the way he talks – I don’t know for sure, but there is something about him.

He takes a step in my direction and I find myself gazing into his eyes. They’re green, too, I notice. I don’t know why I’ve never realized that before. Maybe I was too busy, trying not to blush.

“Wanna find a quiet place somewhere?” he asks.

I nod. “Sure.”

Before I even know what is happening, he already has hold of my hand and drags me through the library, to an abandoned section at the very back, completely empty of other people.

I stop, turning my head to him and smile. “I didn’t realize you knew the library this well.”

“Well,” he says, a crooked smile pulling at the corners of his mouth, “I’ve been spending a lot of time here, lately.”

“Exams coming up?” I ask.

He shakes his head, still smiling. “I was here mostly just to see you.”

My cheeks heat, and I’m pretty sure he can tell just how embarrassed I am, because he laughs quietly. “You know, you’re kinda cute when you’re blushing.”

I playfully hit his arm, my cheeks still burning. Before I have the chance to pull away, he grabs my wrist and holds it firmly in his hand. I look up at him and raise an eyebrow, questioningly.

“Hey there,” he murmurs, his free hand reaching up to cup my cheek. And then, his lips are on mine.

I’ve been kissed before. Not quite as often as I’d like to say, but at least a few times. Yet, the way his lips move against mine rhythmically, his tongue brushing over my teeth, still has my knees going weak. He slightly pushes against me, and I stumble back against a shelf, pulling him with me. He grins down at me. “So eager, huh?”

“Says you,” I mumble against his lips, before I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him into another, much deeper kiss. I’m pretty sure my cheeks are still ablaze, and since we’re in the library, anyone could walk by and see us. But I find that I don’t care at all.

My eyes flutter shut and I let myself sink into the kiss, feeling John’s strong arms around me, his lips on mine, then on my jaw, my neck.

Stupid Jake and stupid Red. If she wants to be with him this bad, then I might as well let her. She won’t listen to me anyway, no matter how many times I tell her that that boy isn’t good for her.

And I can find other ways to spend my time, rather than running after her.

_____________

- 1989 -

I sit on my bedroom floor, dozens of polaroid pictures and handwritten notes splayed across the light blue rug. Most of the pictures are of friends, some of my mother. A few even have me in them. The notes are mostly patches of lyrics and poems, waiting to be written into something longer, more understandable.

I pick up one of the notes, read the text, then crumble it and throw it into the paper bin. Sometimes I wonder where all the shit that I wrote down even came from.

Time passes as I sort through the mess, occasionally stopping to stare at a photo or put a good note to the side, so I will remember it later. There’s tons of photos from my freshman year of high school, of me with friends who’s names I can hardly recall. I throw most of them away. Most of the photos of schoolfriends that I keep, are showing either Reputation or Evermore.

I stop for a moment when I find a sticky note, clearly written in a haste, with the letters half falling off the paper. Frowning, I try to decipher what’s written on it, and come to the conclusion that it must be Evermore’s. Who else would’ve written something poetic like One for the money, two for the show, I never was ready, so I watch you go; Sometimes you just don't know the answer, 'til someone's on their knees and asks you, and then used fuck in the next sentence?

Grinning, I pick up my phone and take a picture, sending it to her.

lostinwonderland: [attachment photo]
lostinwonderland: Is that yours? ;)

I then proceed by taking the small stacks I’ve created, and stuffing some of them into my drawers. My phone lights up from where it’s lying on the floor. I pick it up, along with the remaining stacks and make my way over to the photo wall, as a friend once named it.

lonelywitch: omg
lonelywitch: I KNEW this had to be somewhere
lonelywitch: I’ve been searching for the longest time, I swear
lonelywitch: tysm, ur my hero 1989

lostinwonderland: Aww that’s sweet
lostinwonderland: What does “for the longest time” mean exactly?

lonelywitch: idk
lonelywitch: like a year, maybe?

lostinwonderland: Wow, okay
lostinwonderland: I’ll give it to you tomorrow

lonelywitch: kay, thnx <3
lonelywitch: ur the best

lostinwonderland: <33

I start taping the photographs and lyrics to the wall, wherever there is a blank space. This wall is probably the most personal thing in my room, patches of my life brought together in a huge collage, with chains of light in between, throwing a warm glow over it all.

It’s not that I’d complain, really. My room is big, with pretty furniture and huge windows that look out over the city. But sometimes it just feels a little… empty. I’m alone most of the time, with my mom dead and my father constantly traveling around for business. Sometimes he takes me with him, but when I have the choice, I almost always prefer to stay at home. At least here I have my friends.

My hand hovers over a polaroid picture of my mother and me. I remember it being taken by my dad, shortly before she died, when I was still a little child – maybe nine or ten. Back then he was home more often, not as caught up in his job as he is today. I guess it’s his way of trying to move on after her death, putting all of his ambition into his job. For me, it was music that saved me.

My mother smiles at me from the photograph, her long hair just as black as mine, her hazel eyes shining in the sunlight. Maybe that’s why he’s always on the run, I think. Because he can’t stand to see me and think of her.

My phone buzzes. For another short moment, I stare at the photo, then break away to read the text Evermore sent me.

lonelywitch: are u coming to the party next week?

lostinwonderland: Don’t know yet, why?

lonelywitch: oh I just thought it would be fun yk
lonelywitch: but I don’t wanna go alone and folklore isn’t coming cause she’s folklore

lostinwonderland: Okay maybe I’ll go
lostinwonderland: Do u know if Rep is coming?

lonelywitch: yay!!
lonelywitch: idk, but can we just force her to come?

lostinwonderland: sure

lonelywitch: we’re such good friends fr

___

the best trio

lonelywitch, lostinwonderland, reputaytionsnake13

lonelywitch: hey rep
lonelywitch: party next week on friday
lonelywitch: we’re all going

reputaytionsnake13: no

lostinwonderland: Come on

lonelywitch: I can ask the others if they want to come too

reputaytionsnake13: who’s “the others”?

lonelywitch: oh, you know
lonelywitch: speak now, red, lover
lonelywitch: and folklore but I’m like 113% sure she won’t come
lonelywitch: she’s never up to any fun
lonelywitch: but ig neither are u

reputaytionsnake13: fine
reputaytionsnake13: I’ll think about it

lostinwonderland: Yayyyy

lonelywitch: omg I KNEW I’d get you

reputaytionsnake13: I haven’t even said yes yet

lonelywitch: but u will

The door slams shut downstairs, and I put my phone aside, hurrying to pick up the remaining photos and stuff them into a small box.

“I’m home,” my father calls from downstairs just a moment later.

“Coming!” I tell him.

When I enter the kitchen, he’s already sitting at the huge table, newspaper in his hands and a box of Chinese takeout food sitting in front of him. He lifts his gaze shortly to look at me, then nods his head towards the kitchen counter. “That’s for you.”

I take my food and sit down opposite of him, the table feeling vacant and much too large between us. I pick at my food, eating little, while he continues reading. There’s no smile for me, no How was your day?, or anything else that might resemble a normal family dinner.

Eventually, he sets his newspaper down. I stop, a spark of hope rising in my chest, despite the odds, that maybe, he will finally acknowledge me. That maybe he will for once show that he still cares for me.

“I need to go to London next month,” he says instead. “For business.”

I try not to show my disappointment as I listlessly move a carrot to the edge of my food box. “Okay.”

He stands up and pours himself some coffee. “I was thinking you should come along.”

I stare at him, somewhat taken off guard. “Why?”

“Because it’s the safest for you. I don’t want to leave you here all by yourself.”

“I’m almost seventeen,” I tell him. “I can take care of myself.”

He sighs. “It’ll only be a week, 1989. It’s not that long.”

I drop my fork. “A week?”

“Yes.”

“I have school, dad! I can’t just miss all my lessons.”

He watches me carefully, as if I were a bird he’s trying hard not to scare away. “You can still do your assignments from there. And it’ll be a good opportunity for you to get a better insight into business life.”

I open my mouth, desperately searching for something to say, that will change his mind. “What… What if I don’t want to get-“

He interrupts me before I can finish my thoughts. “You will come, 1989.” Then he looks at me, and his gaze softens just a little. So little, I might as well have imagined it.

“Besides,” He says, “London is such a beautiful city. You wouldn’t want to miss that.”

I think we both know that I won’t see a thing of London. That I’ll just be sitting inside, doing my school work or being forced to listen to boring business meetings that I couldn’t care less about. But I don’t say any of that.

Instead, I push my food away from me and stand. “I’m not hungry anymore.” I tell him and then go to my room, where I sit on the floor and continue what I’ve done before.

I can’t help thinking how ironic it is that I sit there, amidst tons of photos of people I love, and yet feel so alone.

_____________

- Speak Now -

When we leave the library almost half an hour later, I feel undone, my hair messy and my lips swollen. John doesn’t look much better, but he doesn’t seem to care. His arm is settled around my waist and his step light, as we stroll through town.

We walk down the block, past an antiques shop, flower stalls and glowing street lanterns.

“Should I walk you home?” John asks, his lips nearly grazing my ear, making me shudder. “Not yet,” I murmur.

“Okay.” He pulls me closer, his arm strong around me, his fingers lightly brushing against my waist. I wish I could stay in this moment forever. But of course, I can’t.

“Speak Now?” someone shouts from across the street. I look up and see Fearless grinning at me, another girl with auburn hair next to her.

I force a smile onto my lips. “Hey.”

They walk over to us, the auburn-haired girl eating a huge cotton candy. John lets go of me and steps back just a bit, keeping a respective distance between us. I wish he wouldn’t.

Fearless throws her arms around me. “I haven’t seen you in ages!”

“More like two weeks,” I murmur, hugging her back. She breaks away, glancing at John and then back at me. I give her a look that I hope tells her to shut up. And to my surprise, she does.

John clears his throat, drawing my attention to him. “I probably should get going,” he says, giving me a sly smile. “I take it you’ll get home safe?”

“Sure,” I reply, forcing a neutral expression onto my face. I can’t let him know how much I hate seeing him walk away. Not without seeming needy.

“Okay.” He hesitates for a moment, then plants a quick kiss on my lips. “I’ll see you around.”

And the next moment he is gone.

Fearless grins at me. “Was that your boyfriend?”

“Um.” I shift uneasily. “I don’t know, not really?”

She raises an eyebrow. “How can you not know?”

“Um, we just kinda… made out?” I say. “We’re not dating though, I think.”

Fearless’s eyes widen. “Gosh, I’m sorry. Did we interrupt anything?”

“Not really,” I say.

The auburn-haired girl lifts her gaze from the cotton candy to look at us. “I didn’t interrupt anything, Fearless. That was you.”

Fearless rolls her eyes. “Sure.” Turning to me, she says, “That’s Abigail, by the way. Don’t know if you’ve met before.”

“Nope,” Abigail comments, then grins at me. “That guy was hot.”

“He was,” Fearless says.

“I know,” I murmur, glancing down the street to make sure that John isn’t lingering, overhearing us. Even though that’s a completely silly thought.

Fearless takes Abigail's hand, starting to pull her down the street. “We were going to the park, do you wanna come along?” She asks, looking back at me.

Chapter Text

- Folklore -

Friday flashes by in a blur and before I’ve even noticed it, I’m in the middle of my guitar lesson on Saturday afternoon. My hands fly over the guitar strings almost effortlessly, as I play Dorothea’s Safe and Sound, while singing along to it.

Once I’m finished, my teacher nods in approval, a smile on her face. “You’re getting better every time,” she tells me, then, with a quick glance at the clock, adds, “I think we’re done for today, but keep practicing at home.”

“Of course.” I return her smile and collect my music sheets together, getting up to leave.

“Oh, and Folklore?” she says.

“Yeah?”

“Surely, you’ve heard of the contest? I really think you should give it a chance, try to write something and see if you feel like participating.”

Of course, she means it encouraging, but I can feel my smile wavering. “Yeah,” I tell her. “I’ll think about it.”

“Good.” She smiles. “Have a nice day.”

“You too.”

On my way outside, all I can think about is how disappointed she will be if I won’t participate. Sure, it would probably be fun and exciting, something new. But I know that I wouldn’t be able to stand up there on a stage, singing a song all by myself, while the whole school watches me.

I shake my head and step outside, being greeted by the golden autumn sunshine warming my skin. Right when I reach the bus stop, a bus pulls in, and I take a seat by the window, pulling out my headphones and putting them on before I scroll through my phone.

After just a few seconds of searching, I find my note that I’d been working on the week before. It’s mostly just one mess of half-finished lyrics and guitar chords. In my head, I can see it all clearly, the notes forming a perfect melody, the way it’s all supposed to get together. Yet, it seems I can’t get it written down.

My phone buzzes and a new message pops up in my notifications.

misstaymericana17: Heyy, do you wanna hang out?

I look out the window for a moment, at the passing street signs and traffic lights. Then I answer her.

mirrorballcat: sure
mirrorballcat: I’m on the bus home rn if you wanna come

misstaymericana17: Think I can still catch it?
misstaymericana17: Where is it?

mirrorballcat: if you run
mirrorballcat: should be at the bus stop near u in like seven minutes

misstaymericana17: Okay
misstaymericana17: I’ll give my best :)

mirrorballcat: :)

After that, I reopen the note, but I still can’t seem to make much sense out of the things I’ve written down there. One particular line catches my attention, though: When you are young, they assume you know nothing.

I think I wrote that when I was at Centennial Park with the others, but I’m not sure. It doesn’t matter either. What catches my attention, is how perfectly it portraits everything about Betty from Just A Summer Thing. Internally, I picture Evermore rolling her eyes at me, and for some reason it makes me smile.

You’ll never get anywhere with writing songs about book characters, she’d once told me. Only a nerd like you would do that.

Of course, her words had made me feel insecure and question myself. But in the end, I’d just shaken my head about it and moved on. What did I care if people liked my music or not? It was fun, and so I’d keep writing.

I glance outside quickly, trying to figure out where the bus was now.

mirrorballcat: four minutes
mirrorballcat: hurry

misstaymericana17: On my way!!

I go back to the note, scanning it for more useful lyrics, but there are none to be found. At least not at the moment. When you are young, they assume you know nothing is stuck in my head on repeat, a melody slowly forming to the words.

I stare out the window for a while, new words coming to me and gently weaving themselves into the fabric of the song. I quickly write them down before they can vanish again.

A friend to all is a friend to none
Chase two girls, loose the one
When you are young, they assume you know nothing

The bus halts, and my eyes wander to the front, where Lover enters the bus, quickly buying a ticket before she flops down in the empty seat next to me. “Hey,” she says, sounding a little out of breath.

I take off my headphones and stuff them into the side pocket of my guitar bag. “Hey.”

“Had fun?” Lover asks. “What were you doing with your phone?”

“Hm?”

“When I came in,” she says. “You were busy typing something, I think.”

“Oh, I was just… trying to write a song.”

“Cool.” She smiles at me, then her expression turns thoughtful. “Are you gonna participate? In the contest.”

I hesitate. “I’m not sure.”

“Oh?” Her eyes find mine, and she seems genuinely surprised. “But you’re good.”

I sigh, leaning back in my seat. “Everyone says that.”

“Well, it’s the truth.”

I smile a little at that. “Thanks, Lover. It’s just that I’m not sure I’ll be able to write something good enough. And I think I’m too scared to perform in front of so many people.”

She thinks about that for a moment. “It won’t be that many people, right? I mean, sure, there’s many persons at our school, but it’s not like everyone is going to come. I get your point, though.”

“Maybe,” I say. “But I think it’s still too much attention for me.”

She’s silent for a moment, then she says, “You could perform together with someone else, you know, so you don’t have to do it on your own.”

“Yeah. I guess I’ll just have to find someone.”

She smiles, then points outside. “See, it would be much worse if we had to perform in there.”

I follow her index finger with my eyes, and see that she’s pointing at the stadium. Despite the fact that Swift City is more the size of a large town than a city, it still has its own stadium. That’s kinda weird, if you ask me, but on the other hand it’s barely bigger than two or three gyms put together, so maybe it can’t really count as a stadium.

I laugh. “Well, yeah. I guess that’s a plus.”

“See?” Lover grins at me. “Oh, by the way, I wrote this new song that I wanted to play for you. But it isn’t finished, yet.”

“Okay.” I watch her, wondering what this is about, but for the moment she doesn’t seem willing to give me any more information.

“Evermore is at Reputation’s,” I tell her when we enter the house. “Apparently they’re besties again.”

“Okay, cool,” Lover says.

I look at her. “By the way, how’s your project going?”

“Oh,” she says, taking off her shoes and jacket, “we haven’t started yet.”

She follows me into the living room, where I set down my guitar and look at her. “So, songwriting time?”

She grins, sitting down at the piano, and pushes back the keyboard cover. “Sure.”

I settle on the floor, looking up at her while she gently starts to play a few chords, then stops and looks at me.

“Actually, I kinda wrote this about you.”

“Oh?” I can’t hide the surprise from my voice.

She smiles. “Well, it’s nothing even near finished, but I just wanted you to hear what I have so far.”

I slightly tilt my head and smile back at her. “Okay, then go on.”

Her fingers gently push down the keys, forming a simple, yet beautiful melody. To my surprise, the usual Lover pop music is completely absent, instead having been replaced by something a lot more indie.

School bell rings, walk me home
Sidewalk chalk covered in snow
Lost my gloves, you give me one
"Wanna hang out?"
Yeah, sounds like fun
Video games, you pass me a note
Sleeping in tents
It's nice to have a friend

She stops then, her hands hovering above the keys, and looks at me. “Well, that’s it for now.”

“That was amazing, Lover,” I say, feeling a smile settle on my lips. She wrote this about me.

“Thanks.” Lover smiles back at me, then looks down at her hands on the piano keys. She gently plays a new accord, then another one.

“See,” she says, “I can’t decide if I should go with a chorus for this one or not.”

I blink, confused. “What?”

“Well,” Lover continues her soft piano melody, her eyes never leaving the keys, “I know that every song is supposed to have a chorus, but I just… I’m not sure it really fits with this one. It’s kinda more like a poem? But as a song.”

“Oh?”

“See, it’s about friendship.” She stops, her eyes meeting mine. “There isn’t something like a chorus with that. Friendships don’t just repeat themselves. They’re all… different from each other. Always.”

I nod slowly, trying to make sense of what she’s saying. “Yeah… I think I get it.”

“So, do you think I should just add another verse instead?” she asks.

“Sure,” I reply. “Just try it and if it doesn’t sound good, you can always add a chorus in between, you know.”

She nods and goes back to playing the same soft melody, then stops after a few accords. “Should it be, like, about the same friendship, but at another time, or about a different kind of friendship?”

I raise an eyebrow. “What different kind of friendship?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” She keeps her eyes on the piano while she answers. “Just… something.”

“Okay?”

Lover sighs. “Like, a different friendship. Just… what you could have with another person, maybe at a different age? Since the first verse is about a childhood friendship.”

“Like, as in a relationship?”

“For example.”

“Mm-hmm,” I say. “Sounds like an interesting idea. You should try that.”

“Okay.”

She takes up the melody again, humming along to the soft notes the piano is playing.

Church bells ring, carry me home
Rice on the ground, looks like snow
Call my bluff, call you “babe”  

She stops, looking back at me. “I feel like something is missing.”

I shrug. “I don’t know. It sounds pretty good to me.”

She smiles. “Thanks, Folklore.”

The front door opens, then slams shut and we both turn around to Evermore entering the living room.

“Oh, hi Lover,” she says, her eyes landing on our cousin. “I didn’t know you were here.”

Lover gets up, gently moving the cover back over the piano keys. “Hey.”

Evermore’s eyebrows furrow slightly. “What were you playing?”

“Oh, I was just messing around. Trying out a new song.”

I might have imagined it, but I think Evermore’s eyes light up at that. “For the contest?”

I sigh. “Is everyone only talking about the contest now?”

Evermore rolls her eyes at me. “Oh, come on, Lore. It’ll be fun.”

“Yeah.”

“See, it’s not like anyone forces you to participate, but I think you should.”

I say nothing. I just really wish people would shut up about this stupid contest for once, and leave me alone. I’ve never been a natural. I can’t just go up there, on a stage, and perform a perfect song. Not with everyone watching me, waiting for a mistake. All that I can do is try, and try, and try again. But sometimes I feel like I can’t even do that.

Evermore vanishes into the kitchen and reappears just a moment later, with a bowl of chocolate pudding in her hands. “By the way,” she says, between swallowing spoons full of pudding. “There’s a party next Friday, I thought maybe you wanna come?” Her eyes are on Lover and I wish I could say that I don’t care, but it would be a lie. The way she just ignores me stings.

“Oh, um,” Lover starts, clearly caught off guard. “I’m not really the party type.”

Evermore sits down on the floor next to me, still shoveling chocolate pudding into her mouth like she’s starving.

“You can still come,” she says. “It’s nothing too big, just a bunch of kids from school.”

Lover hesitates. “Okay,” she says eventually. “I’ll… think about it.”

Evermore looks like a huge weight just has been lifted of her shoulders. “Thank god.”

Lover looks confused. “Why?”

“Oh, I told Rep that you’d come,” Evermore explains, putting the empty bowl aside. “And Speak Now and Red, but apparently, they’re both ‘busy.’”

“Oh?”

“Well, at least now Rep can’t say that she won’t come.” Evermore looks utterly pleased with herself. “Oh, and 1989 is coming too, by the way.”

I want to cry. She’s really invited everyone to this party, except me? Well, of course I don’t really do parties, everyone knows that, especially Evermore. But a part of me feels like she still should’ve asked. I’m so sick of being excluded from everything. It’s almost as if I’m some old toy that she wants to get rid of, but can’t bear to throw away.

For the first time since she’s arrived, Evermore really looks at me. “You okay, Lore?”

“Yeah,” I lie.

She looks like she wants to say something more, but instead she just turns back to Lover. “Do you want to stay for dinner?” she asks, then, with a glance at the clock, adds. “I think our parents should be home soon, latest in an hour or so.”

“Sure,” Lover replies, watching me with a somewhat concerned expression. She doesn’t say anything, though.

“Hey,” Evermore says, suddenly getting up. “How about we all facetime Woodvale?”

Lover’s eyes light up. “Oh, I haven’t talked to her in ages.”

“I’ll be right back,” Evermore says, practically already running out of the room and up the stairs, probably to get her laptop. Her bowl still sits on the floor, completely forgotten.

I sigh and pick it up. Lover follows me into the kitchen quietly, her eyes on me as I put the bowl into the dishwasher, but she stays silent. Until I turn around to face her, that is.

“What’s the matter?” She asks, her voice quiet, probably so Evermore won’t be able to hear us.

“Nothing,” I say, not meeting her eyes.

“No, something’s wrong,” she insists. “You know that you can tell me, right? Anything, really.”

“I know, I’m just tired.” It’s a lie. It’s always a lie.

I try to ignore the concerned look on her face as I push past her, back into the living room, and let myself sink into the soft cushions of the couch.

“Folklore-“ she starts, but is interrupted when Evermore bolts back down the stairs, laptop in her arms and grins at us, before flopping down next to me. “Got it,” she says.

I can feel Lover’s eyes on me while Evermore turns on her laptop, and I do my best to ignore her. I don’t really want to have that conversation right now.

She seems to understand, because she sits down on Evermore’s other side without another word.

“Hey guys!” Woodvales grins at us from the screen, her light brown hair hanging around her face in loose waves, her greenish hazel eyes sparkling.

I can’t not smile.

“Hi Woodvale,” Lover says, leaning over Evermore to turn up the volume. “How are you doing?”

“Oh, I’m good,” Woodvale replies. “College is a lot of work, but I’ll manage. How’s your mom? and Benji?”

“They’re fine. Everything’s still pretty much the same here, but I miss you.”

“Awww.” A somewhat sad smile replaces the wide grin on Woodvale’s face. “I miss you too. All of you.”

“You’ll be here for autumn break, right?” Lover asks.

“Yeah, I will. We should all get together and watch a scary movie on Halloween.”

“Can we please not?” I ask.

Evermore raises an eyebrow at me. “Why? You scared?”

“No. I just don’t like movies like that.”

“Like what?”

“You know, like the ones that you and Woodvale always watch.”

“Oh, come on,” our older sister interrupts us from the screen. “It’ll be fun, Lore, just give it a chance.”

A quick glance at Lover tells me that she isn’t too excited about my sisters’ idea, either. I open my mouth to tell them, but then an idea starts to form inside my head. It’s stupid, really. But there’s a small chance that it could work.

I sigh. “We’ll see.”

Chapter Text

- Lover -

On Sunday evening, I find myself lying on my bed once again, with Benji curled up against my stomach. Both of us are dozing away in the late afternoon sun that shines in through the big windows. My hands move through his soft fur, and his light snore is the only sound I can hear, save for some faraway cars and city noise.

I sit up and brush back my hair with my fingers, careful not to push my cat off of the bed as I reach over to grab my phone from the nightstand.

I’ve opened Instagram and found her profile in a matter of seconds. Reputaytionsnake13. How many times I’ve contemplated pressing the follow-button in this past week, I’ve lost count. I don’t know why I’m so hesitant. I need to ask her about our history project, so I have a reason to reach out. On the other hand, I could just wait for Wednesday and ask her then.

But for some reason I feel the need to talk to her now. And if I wait too long, my excuse for sending a follow request might not be valid anymore.

I take a deep breath, and then I press follow, before I can lose my nerve again.

And wait.

Requested, the button reads.

I don’t know how long I lay there and wait for her to accept my request, but at some point, my mom comes back home from her shift at the hospital. I keep glancing at my phone every now and then – while we eat, while we watch a series together, even late at night when I’m supposed to sleep.

But no notification comes.

_____________

- Reputation -

Misstaymericana17 has requested to follow you. The notification popped up on my screen yesterday evening, right before I went to eat dinner. I ignored it. I’ve ignored it since.

Now I’m on my way to school, trying to continuously ignore these words, that seem to have been burnt into my brain. Misstaymericana17 has requested to follow you.

I need to get my head straight.

I pull into a parking lot and turn off the motor of my parents’ car, before I reach over and grab my phone from where it’s laying on the passenger seat.

The notification is still there. To be honest, I’m not sure why I’m holding back. Sure, I don’t just accept requests from random strangers, or even most people I know. But this is Lover. One hundred percent. And I need to talk to her anyway, eventually, so I might as well start now.

With a sigh, I accept her request. For moment I think about just leaving it at that, but then I send one back.

I put my phone down and close my eyes. Why did I ever agree to this? That day when she asked me to work together, I should’ve just said no. Come up with an excuse, told her that I already had a partner. Although that would’ve been a pretty obvious lie. But probably still a lot better than this.

My phone buzzes and I open my eyes to read the notification: Misstaymericana17 has accepted your request.

Great. Just great. What the hell have I gotten myself into?

I’m about to open the car door and head for first period, when another notification lights up the screen.

 misstaymericana17: Hey Reputation

I wait for her to write something else, to send another message, but nothing happens. Does she seriously expect me to small talk over Instagram DMs?

Everything in me screams to just ignore her, like I’ve managed to do for the past thirteen or something hours. But, despite that, I find myself replying to her silly message.

reputaytionsnake13: hi.

misstaymericana17: Are you free after school someday this week?
misstaymericana17: I was thinking we could maybe start to work on our project
misstaymericana17: If you’re okay with that, of course

reputaytionsnake13: i guess

misstaymericana17: Cool, u free on Tuesday?

reputaytionsnake13: yeah, i think so

misstaymericana17: Can we meet at the library after school, then?

reputaytionsnake13: yeah sure

misstaymericana17: Cool, I’ll see you then!

_____________

- Lover -

Tuesday comes sooner than I anticipated.

I stand outside of the school, waiting for Reputation. Evermore left a few minutes ago, telling me to have fun. I’m not entirely sure what she meant by that, but I have long ago given up on trying to understand her.

“Hi.”

I look up from my phone to find Reputation standing in front of me, her blondish-brown hair straightened, and her sharp eyeliner perfectly drawn. Just like always. She’s obviously listening to music, but one of her headphones dangles loosely in the air, which I guess is her way of trying to show that she isn’t completely distancing herself from me. Though I could swear, the music is so loud that I can still hear it.

“Hey,” I say and smile at her.

She doesn’t return my smile and I try not to think too hard on it.

“So… should we get going, then?”

“Yeah.” She glances at me shortly and then starts walking in the direction of the library. I follow her, an uncomfortable silence stretching between us.

“What are you listening to?” I ask, feeling a little awkward.

She looks at me, and I am taken aback by how strikingly blue her eyes are. No, not entirely blue, there’s some undefinable purple-ish undertone… What’s the color called?

“You okay?”

I blink, looking away. I hope that my cheeks aren’t as red as they feel. Only now I realize that she already must have answered my question. “Yeah. Sorry, what did you say?”

“I said I’m listening to music.”

The way she says it, completely serious and with a certain amount of underlying disinterest, almost makes me laugh. I probably would, if I weren’t still so embarrassed about earlier.

“Yeah, I know that,” I say instead. “But, like, which artist?”

She’s quiet for a moment and I already think that she won’t answer my question, but then she says, “Right now? Billie Eilish.”

“Oh, cool. Is she your favorite singer?”

“Don’t really have a favorite.”

“Well, that’s fine.” I gesture to her still unused headphone. “Can I…?”

She looks at me, eyebrows furrowed, her expression half confused, half annoyed. But then she wordlessly hands me the headphone, so I guess that’s a win.

The library is nearly empty when we get there, save for a few kids in the children’s book department, and some students scattered around the small tables. We sit down at one in the back.

While I pull out my history class notes and some pens, Reputation just watches me silently. After years with Folklore as my best friend I’m used to someone quietly observing everything I do, but Reputation’s silence is different. Not like the calm quiet of Folklore, but instead more confident, almost… dangerous. In some way.

I clear my throat. “So… I guess we should probably start by picking a topic. Got any ideas?”

Reputation shakes her head. “Not really.”

I’m about to make a suggestion, when Speak Now appears behind Reputation, a wide grin on her face. “Heyyy!”

I smile at her. “Hi, I didn’t know you were working here.”

“Well, now you know.” She walks around the table and peers over my shoulder. “What are you working on?”

“A project for our history class,” I tell her.

Her eyes light up. “Ohhh, I see.” She eyes my notes. “Did you even get anything done yet?”

“Not really,” I tell her.

She sits down on the chair next to me and puts her head in her hands, watching me, a grin still on her face. “So Evermore was right, huh?”

I furrow my eyebrows in confusion. “Right about what?”

“Oh, you know…” She leans forward in her seat and reaches out for one of my notes. I try to snatch it away before she can take it, but she’s too fast.

“No, I don’t.”

Speak Now rolls her eyes at that, grinning once again. Then she hands back my notes and gets up. “Well, I should probably get back to work. But I’m sure you guys will figure this all out.” She winks at me. “Just don’t forget your project.”

The next moment she’s already gone. I shake my head and look at Reputation. She just shrugs.

“So,” I say, quickly glancing at my notes, “um, what if we just do the Taymerican revolution? I mean, I know that it’s probably pretty basic, but there are many things that we can link to society today, and-“

Reputation lifts her hand in a stop it gesture, and I’m pretty sure that she’ll tell me exactly why my idea is stupid. So, I hurry to say, “It’s okay if you don’t want to, though. We can just pick another topic.”

She shakes her head, a small grin on her lips, that takes me completely by surprise. I can’t tell if it’s sincere or if she’s just mocking me, though.

“No, it’s fine,” she says. “We’ll do the Taymerican revolution.”

I breathe out, somewhat a little relieved. “Okay, good.”

We spent the next two hours working silently, only exchanging a few words every now and then, when it’s necessary. I am positively surprised by how well it goes. To be honest, I’m not sure what I was thinking when I asked Reputation to partner with me on the project. I guess it was just one of my stupid impulsive decisions that I later proceed to regret, more often than not.

For a time, I thought that this would be one I’d really regret, thanks to Reputation’s I don’t give a shit attitude. But it seems she still does care, somewhere beneath all of that.

I pass her a page of notes I just scribbled down, and let her read through it. She pulls out her headphones and shuts her laptop, where she’s been watching some films, and nods in approval. “Yeah, that’ll work.”

“Good.” A glance at the big clock on the wall tells me that it’s already later than I had anticipated. “I should probably go home,” I tell her, and start picking together all my notes.

“Me too.” She stuffs her laptop and some loose papers into her bag and stands. “Need a ride?”

I look up at her, startled. “What?”

An amused grin settles on her lips. “Yes or no?”

“Um,” I say, “thanks, but you really don’t have to…”

“It’s no big inconvenience, really.”

I sigh. “Okay, fine.”

Her car is still parked in front of the school, so we walk back. We’re mostly silent, but somehow it isn’t as awkward anymore.

Once we get there, she throws her bag in the back of the car. I keep mine with me as I sit down in the passenger seat, and she raises an eyebrow at me. “Don’t you wanna leave that back there?”

I shake my head, my arms wrapped around my bag. “It’s not that far.”

“Whatever.” She starts the car and pulls out of the parking lot. I stare out of the window, trying to ignore the way she looks when she’s concentrating, or the quiet music that is playing from the car’s speakers and that sound so much like her. Of course, it doesn’t work.

“Where do you live?” she asks me. I glance over at her, but her eyes are firmly fixed on the road.

“Cornelia Street.” I say quietly.

She doesn’t show any reaction, just says, “Okay.”

I reach over to turn up the music, but stop mid-air, remembering myself. “Can I…?”

“Huh?” She glances over at me, then pulls into the street to our right. “Yeah, sure.”

“Thanks.” I turn the volume up and the sound of music fills the car.

Visions I vandalize, cold in my kingdom size, fell for these ocean eyes

You should see me in a crown, I’m gonna run this nothing town

I glance over at Reputation, wondering whether this is a song she listens to often, but her expression doesn’t give anything away. Somehow, I feel like if she were a character in a TV show, that song could easily be her character theme song.

“Are you coming to the party on Friday?” she suddenly asks, snapping me out of my thoughts.

“What party?” I say, startled by the sudden change in topic.

She looks at me for a moment, one eyebrow slightly raised. “Evermore didn’t ask you?”

I open my mouth to answer her, but then remember what Evermore said on Saturday. “Actually… yeah, she did a few days ago. It was kinda random, though, to be honest. I guess that’s why I didn’t remember at first.”

A small grin settles on Reputation’s lips. “Well, yeah. Sounds like her.”

I smile a bit. “Mhm. So… are you going?”

“Hm?”

“To that party, I mean.”

“Maybe.” She’s quiet for a few moments, as she pulls into Cornelia Street, then adds, “Evermore will probably drag me along anyway, no matter what… Which house?”

“Twenty-three,” I say.

Reputation parks the car in front of the house, and I unfasten my seatbelt.

“Hey, thanks a lot for the ride,” I say.

“Sure,” she replies.

I open the car door and get outside. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah.”

When I give her a quick smile before closing the car door, she actually smiles back. I hurry to the front door, only noticing that her car is still firmly parked in front of my house, when I’m already inside.

I quickly take the stairs, listening to the faint sound of her motor starting outside, then getting quieter by the second. When I look out of the stairwell window on the next floor, her car is gone.

Mom is sitting on the couch when I enter the apartment, Benji purring in her lap. She smiles at me. “Hi, sweetheart.”

“Hey.” I dump my schoolbag onto a chair and then flop down next to her.

“Who was that?” She asks, casually, as she keeps petting Benji.

“Hm?” I look at her, confused. “Who?”

She raises her eyebrows and nods into the vague direction of the big windows that overlook the street. “Someone dropped you off.”

“Mom! You’re stalking me?”

“God, no.” She smiles, watching me thoughtfully. “I just happened to walk by the window and see you get out of a car.”

I watch her, somewhat unconvinced.

Usually, she doesn’t really get involved too much with what I do when I’m not at home. I guess she just trusts me to not do anything stupid or hang out with the wrong people. But at the same time, it also seems a lot like her to spy on me, trying to figure out if I’m like… dating someone. Not that something like that would ever happen, especially with Reputation, but I guess mom is just really willing to read something into every single friendship I have, that isn’t with Folklore or Evermore. Sometimes I think I should start befriending boys, so that at least she won’t be able to ship me with all of my friends.

“Why so sceptical? Is there something going on that I’m not supposed to find out?” She says it with an innocent expression, but I can see the corners of her mouth twitching, like she’s trying hard not to smile.

My cheeks heat slightly. “Mom!”

She grins. “Aww, come on. I’m just messing with you.”

“Yeah, sure.” I roll my eyes, but I’m pretty sure that my cheeks are still red.

“So,” she asks, watching Benji as he hops down from her lap and walks over to me, rubbing his head against my legs, “who was dropping you off?”

“Reputation,” I murmur, reaching down to pet Benji’s back. He purrs.

“Oh?” my mom says. When I look up, I can see her watching me, thoughtfully. “Reputation, huh?”

“Yeah,” I say, “we were working on a school project.”

“And then she just offered to drive you home?”

“Mhm.” I get up, and go to the kitchen to get Benji his food. Mom follows me.

“Are you going to see her again?” she asks, while making herself a cup of coffee.

I hesitate, pouring the cat food into a small bowl. “I guess…?”

I put the bowl onto the floor and watch Benji eat.

To my surprise, mom drops the topic after that, instead asking, “And else? How’s everything going?”

“Good?” I say.

She raises her eyebrows, looking at me over the rim of her cup. “That sounded like a question.”

I shrug. “Yeah, I guess everything’s good.”

She smiles. “That’s nice to hear.”

“Mhm…” I look out of the window. It’s already starting to get dark and from our third-floor apartment, I have a great view over all the city lights. They somehow remind me of small light bulbs on a Christmas tree. Sometimes, when I can’t sleep, I just sit by the window and look at the lights outside, pretending I’m back home.

“You sure you’re okay?” Mom is watching me, a somewhat worried look on her face.

I force a smile. “Yeah.” Before she can dig deeper, I quickly add, “by the way, I wanted to ask you something.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, um…” I look around the room. “Look, Evermore asked me if I wanted to come to this party or something on Friday, and I was wondering if that’d be okay…?”

Mom hesitates. “And where exactly is this party?”

I shrug. “Dunno. But Evermore said it’s nothing big, just a bunch of her other friends.”

Mom looks into the distance with a thoughtful expression.

“Okay, fine,” she says after a moment. “You can go, but only if you promise to stay with her, or someone else you know, the whole time. And you’ll be home latest at midnight.”

I smile. “Thanks, mom.”

“Sure.” She looks at me, the ghost of a smile on her face. “Wait, is Reputation also going to that party?”

So much for having dropped the topic. I sigh. “Yeah, probably.”

Mom grins at me. “Oh, so that’s why you’re so eager on going, huh?”

“Mom!” I can feel the blood rushing into my cheeks. But part of me wonders if maybe she isn’t completely wrong.

Chapter Text

- Folklore -

“Hey.” Lover slumps down on the couch next to me, and glances over at the book in my lap. “What are you reading?”

“Oh, you know…” I close my book and look over at her. “The same as always?”

She takes her eyes off the book and nods approvingly. “I still think it would be way better if the two girls ended up together, though.”

Since I forced her to watch the film adaptation of Just A Summer Thing with me, a few years ago, Lover seems to have made it her sole purpose in life to rant to me about how Betty should choose Augustine over James. I’m not sure I agree with her, but I do get her point.

“Well, you can always write a fanfic about them,” I tell her.

“I’m not good at creative writing, Folklore.” A grin spreads across her face. “But you could do that. I’d read it, for sure.”

I sigh. “Maybe someday. But I still prefer Betty and James as a ship.”

Lover rolls her eyes. “James is honestly just so… eww.”

I smile a little. “Oh, come on. He’s just a boy. And he apologized in the end, right?”

“Yeah,” Lover says, “but that’s no excuse. By the way, talking of creative writing and stuff… have you thought some more about the contest?”

I try to keep my smile up. Lately, it seems impossible to have a conversation longer than two minutes that doesn’t land on the topic of this contest. With anyone.

I don’t say that to Lover, though. “Yeah… I’m still not sure about it, but I think… I think I might try.”

She smiles warmly at me. “Cool. I haven’t actually started writing my song, yet, but I have a pretty clear idea about it. Still have to find a way to deal with my anxiety, though.” She chuckles lightly, and I find myself smiling a bit. It’s always nice to know that I’m not the only one who’s super nervous about this.

“Actually,” I say, “I’ve been thinking about what you said the other day.”

She looks at me, questioningly. “Oh?”

“You know, about how I should perform together with someone else.”

She nods. “Yeah.”

“I think,” I start, “I think I could manage. If I’m not alone up there. Guess I’ll just have to find someone with a similar music style who’s willing to pair up with me.” I sigh.

“Mhm.” Lover smiles and glances at the clock. “You should go and find her now.”

“What?” I stop and stare at her, confused. “I didn’t even say-“

“Oh, come on,” she interrupts me. “I think we both know exactly who you’re gonna ask.”

When I don’t reply, she nudges me slightly with her elbow. “You’ll be fine. We still have twenty minutes left until our English lesson starts, so go and ask her.”

“Okay,” I mutter. I glance back once before I leave the common room, to see Lover giving me a thumps-up and a reassuring smile.

I find Evermore in the back of the school library. When she hears my footsteps, she turns around and looks at me, a stack of old books in her arms. “Hey, Lore.”

“Hi,” I say. Then, before I can lose my nerve, I add, “I wanted to ask you something.”

“Yeah?”

“About the talent show...” I stop myself, letting my gaze drift over the broken book spines, reading their titles without recognizing them. “I was thinking maybe we two could-“

“Oh,” Evermore says, slightly surprised. She pauses long enough for all my hopes and confidence to slowly shrink away to nothing. “Listen, I'm so sorry and this is totally not because of you, but... actually I was thinking about, like... doing my own thing.” I can hear in her voice that she really is sorry, but I'm not sure whether she would've said no to someone else, too.

“It's okay.” My voice is strangely dry. “I get it.”

I turn to walk away when she grabs my wrist. “It's not because of you,” she repeats. “Really, Folklore. I just...”

I pull my hand back. “It's okay, I said.”

She opens her mouth to say something more, but before she can, Reputation appears behind her.

“There you are,” she says, “I've been searching everywhere for you.”

“Hey,” Evermore replies, a smile on her face, all the sorrow and apology, that have been there mere seconds ago, simply vanished. “What's up?”

Reputation's eyes dart to me for a second, before she looks back at Evermore. “I was gonna ask you if you want to team up for the competition.”

“I...” Evermore starts, her gaze drifting to me, almost as if she’s going to ask for my permission, then back to Reputation. She doesn't say anything for a while, but I don't need her to. I can read the look in her eyes well enough.

“It's okay,” I say again. I find I say these words pretty often lately. It's okay. Not fine, never good, it's always just okay.

But apparently no one notices.

Evermore looks at me again and bites her lip. “I don’t... I mean... I'm sorry.”

“I said it's okay,” I repeat, feeling tears rise in my eyes. “I'm fine on my own anyway.”

I turn around before she can say anything more, before she can notice the tears in my eyes, before Reputation can make some stupid comment that I know would push me over the edge.

I rush out of the library, my vision already blurring, and ignore Evermore’s voice calling my name.

“What's wrong?” Lover asks when we walk to our lockers after English class.

“Nothing,” I mumble, fumbling for my key.

I can feel her worried look on me as I open my locker and put my books inside, carefully sorting them in alphabetical order.

“Yes, it is,” she says after a moment of silence. “What happened?”

I don't respond, instead starting to sort my pencils, even though there’s absolutely no need to do that.

“Folklore?” she tries again after a few seconds.

“What?”

“What happened?”

I drop the pencils into my locker and turn around to face her. “It's okay, really.”

She doesn't say anything, just watches me silently instead.

I sigh and slam my locker shut. “Evermore said no. Are you happy now?”

Lover’s eyebrows knit together in confusion. “Why would she do that?”

“Because she’d rather team up with Reputation? How the hell am I supposed to know?”

Lover sighs, leaning against the locker next to mine. “Okay.” She looks around the corridor before her eyes find mine. “I could team up with you, if you want.”

I force myself to smile, even though I feel like crying. “It's okay, Lover. I'll figure something out on my own,

you don't have to screw your whole performance just because of me.”

“It’s okay, really. I’ll do it for you.”

I shake my head. “I’ll be fine on my own. Really.”

“You sure?” she asks, looking at me, worried.

“Yeah. I'll be okay.”

I’m not okay. Once I get home, I throw my things into a corner, grab my book, and run outside, through the garden and over the meadow. I don’t turn back once, don’t slow down until I reach the small creek by the woods. Then I sink down into the ankle-high grass and let the tears flow.

Time passes, but I just stay there, looking down at my reflection in the troubled water.

A breeze ruffles through the trees, and I look up. The old wooden swings are swaying back and forth in the wind, the ground beneath them covered in grass and weeds, a sign that no one has used them in a long time. When I was still a kid, the ground always used to be muddy, bare of any plants.

Evermore and I came out here to play all the time when we were in kindergarten. Sometimes we were able to get Woodvale to come along with us, too. Other days, I came here with Em. We were always running around laughing, hiding in the trees. Until she had to go.

I don’t remember what her face looked like. Or how she used to be. What stayed after all these years apart, is the feeling I had when I was with her. I felt like I finally belonged somewhere. Like I was wanted, completely and unquestionably wanted.

What I do remember is that she always wore her hair in braids. Sometimes only two, other times dozens of smaller ones. And that all her clothes were at least three numbers too big. She had once told me that her mom wanted to save money, that she’d said Em would eventually grow out of her clothes anyway, so they might as well buy larger ones right away.

I can almost hear her laughter echoing over the meadow, even now.

“Come on, Folklore!” Em grinned at me from where she was standing on the ground. I could only see her face in flashes, every time I flew past her on the swing. “Just jump!”

I glanced down at the small creek as it came rushing toward me. Two of my fingers slowly loosened their grip around the swing’s rope. Time seemed to slow down, and for a moment, I thought I might do it. I might jump, and then I would grow wings and fly over the woods like all those fairies in the books and movies.

I grasped the rope tight and shut my eyes closed. Tried to stop the swing, but it was too high, my feet couldn’t reach the ground. “Em!” I cried out.

“What?” she yelled back. “Just jump! It’s fun, I promise!”

“I can’t. It’s too high.”

“Ugh, fine.” She ran towards me and grabbed one of the ropes as the swing sailed past her. It took some effort from us both, but after a few moments, I was safe, back down on solid ground. “Thanks,” I managed. I was still feeling a bit dizzy.

She grinned at me. “No problem.” Her hair was wet and some loose hair strands were sticking to her face. I thought she looked like she had just been on an adventure with pirates. I opened my mouth to tell her this, just when someone called my name.

I turned around and saw Woodvale walking down the meadow, her flowery skirt blowing in the wind. She stopped right in front of us, and her eyes drifted to Em for a moment. I could see that she wanted to ask what had happened, but she didn’t actually say anything, so I didn’t tell her either.

“Your dad is here,” she said to Em. “He wants you to come.”

“Fuck!” Em’s hands flew up in an instant, and she tried to wrench the water out of her many small braids, but it didn’t really seem to work.

“You’re not supposed to swear,” I said, simply repeating what my mom had told me hundreds of times. Or not me, really. I’d just happened to be there when Evermore said bad words. Which she did almost every day.

Em glanced at me for a moment, still fighting with her hair. “Well, I don’t give a shit.”

Woodvale sighed. “Whatever. I’ll tell him you’ll be there in five minutes?” She didn’t even wait for an answer, instead just walking away.

Em let her hands fall to her sides in surrender. “Well, my dad’s gonna kill me for sure.” She glanced down at herself and grimaced. Her clothes were still all soaked wet.

“You should come, live with me,” I said.

She looked at me, a funny expression on her face. “Why’s that?”

“Your dad’s always mad.” I shuddered a bit. “If you lived here, you wouldn’t have to hide anymore. And we could be pirates,” I quickly add. Em loved pirates. Surely, this would convince her?

She just rolled her eyes. “My dad isn’t always mad.”

I knew it was probably a lie, since I had only ever seen him mad, but I didn’t say that to her. I think if my dad was mad, I wouldn’t want to talk about it, either.

“Oh,” I say, quieting my voice to a whisper. “I’ve been meaning to tell you something.”

Em furrowed her eyebrows. “What?”

“I think your house is haunted.” I paused, for the dramatic effect. “That’s probably why your dad is mad so often. He’s just so annoyed with the ghosts, but he doesn’t even know they exist, so he can’t do anything about them.”

Em grinned. “We have to go on a ghost hunt, then.”

“Yes!” I smiled. Then I remembered something I’d wanted to tell her since last weekend but had forgotten to do until now. “Hey, Em?”

“Yeah?”

“You know, those folk songs? The one’s that we learned about at school, that people come up with and then pass on to their children. Can our friendship be like that?”

She thought for a moment and then nodded, a smile on her lips. “Yeah,” she says, “I’d like that.”

She held out her pinky finger to me, and I linked it with mine.

When she looked at me, her expression was more serious than usually. “Promise,” she said, “that our love will be passed on like folk songs. So that it will last forever.”

“I promise,” I said.

It’s started raining. Not much, but I can feel the small drops on my skin, running down my cheeks. I should have brought a jacket, probably.

I wrap my arms around my body and tilt my face up towards the rain. Dark clouds are hanging low in the sky. I smile just a bit. Something about rain is just so calming to me. Maybe simply the fact that even in nature, sometimes there’s a breaking point, and then you can’t do anything to stop the tears from falling.

I stay there for a few more minutes, but it’s getting cold, and I don’t want my book to get damaged from the rain, so I head back to our house.

Evermore is home, too, by now, and she tries to talk to me when I get inside, but I just ignore her and go straight into my room, locking the door after me.

I change into some more comfortable clothes and pull my wet hair out of the buns I always wear it in, letting it fall freely over my shoulders. Then I sit down on my bed, my guitar in my lap, a notebook and a pen, as well as my phone, lying next to me. I open the notes I’ve been working on, lately and play a few chords on my guitar. Stop. Do it all over again. For some reason, it sounds wrong. Not wrong musically, but wrong in an it-doesn’t-sound-like-it’s-supposed-to way.

After a few more tries, I sigh and fall down backwards onto the mattress. The steady sound of raindrops hitting my window is the only thing I can hear. It’s calming, almost like soft music. I just keep staring at the ceiling, thoughts drifting into my mind and then vanishing again, before I can understand them. At some point, I start quietly humming a melody to myself. Then the humming turns into words that I sing quietly, barely just a whisper.

I knew you, dancing in your Levi’s, drunk under a streetlight, I
I knew you, hand under my sweatshirt, baby kiss it better, I
And when I felt like I was an old cardigan, under someone’s bed
You put me on and said I was your favorite  

The last notes fade into the silence of my bedroom, all noise reduced to the sound of rain once again. I lay there for a moment, completely still. Then I sit up at once.

“Holy shit,” I mutter to myself. I grab my notebook and pen and flip open an empty page, hastily starting to write down the new lyrics. Once I’m finished, I also add the older lyrics from my phone.

Then I open Lover’s dm on my phone.

mirrorballcat: omg I think it’s working

misstaymericana17: What?

mirrorballcat: the song
mirrorballcat: for that contest
mirrorballcat: I think I have an idea

misstaymericana17: OMG YESS!!!!
misstaymericana17: U need to show me pls

mirrorballcat: haven’t really gotten that far yet, but I promise I’ll play it for you when it’s done
mirrorballcat: I literally don’t even have any music to perform the lyrics to, yet
mirrorballcat: that part is not working, for some reason

misstaymericana17: Noooo :(

mirrorballcat: but the lyrics are good I think so that’s something :)

misstaymericana17: Can I see?? PLEASE?

mirrorballcat: okay fine
mirrorballcat: [attachment photo]
mirrorballcat: it’s from betty’s perspective about james

misstaymericana17: Omg Folklore this is pure genius!!
misstaymericana17: Pls girl u are SO gonna win that contest fr

mirrorballcat: not so sure about that, but thanks <3

misstaymericana17: Soooo
misstaymericana17: Have you talked to Evermore?

mirrorballcat: no
mirrorballcat: I don’t think I want to talk to her right now, tbh

misstaymericana17: Oh
misstaymericana17: Well, that’s okay <3

mirrorballcat: <3

I turn off my phone and just sit on my bed, looking out the window at the meadow and the woods behind our house. The trees are swaying with the wind, and everything looks slightly blurry, due to the now pouring rain.

For some reason, my thoughts circle back to Em. It’s been over a decade since I last saw her, but for some reason she is still stuck in my head. I don’t even remember her full name. Em is just a nickname I gave her after we’d been friends for a while. She’d always preferred it, and I guess after she left, her real name just slowly faded from my memory, and the only thing that stayed were those two letters. Em. I don’t know what they mean. It could be anything – Emily? Emma? I could probably ask my parents, or even Woodvale or Evermore or Lover. But… It doesn’t really matter anymore, does it?

Sometimes I think things would be easier if she was still here, because then I’d have a real friend. Other than Lover, that is. But, then again, lots of things seem great in theory, but you can never really know what the reality would look like. Maybe she’s changed. I have changed, that’s for sure.

I guess truth is, I’ll never know. There’s no way I’d ever meet her again – I don’t even know where she lives now.

She’s just disappeared from my life.

I need to finally accept that.

Chapter Text

- Lover -

“Maybe this one?” Evermore holds up a light purple top with spaghetti straps.

I eye it skeptically. “I don’t know, isn’t that a bit cold?”

Evermore lets herself fall down onto my bed with a defeated sigh. “Girl. You can’t just ask me for help and then say no to everything I suggest.”

I lay down next to her and stare at the ceiling. “I know… I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she mumbles.

“I just…” I pause for a moment, “I just don’t want to get all dressed up. Something comfy would be nice.”

She rolls over and looks at me. “Then why don’t you just wear a sweater and jeans?”

I stay quiet.

“Lover?” She nudges my arm. “Hello?”

“It seems a bit… too casual? I don’t know.” I sigh. “God, I really can’t even get dressed for a party by myself.”

Evermore grins. “Yeah, that’s why I’m here. Oh, wait a sec.”

She gets up again and walks back over to my closet, grabbing a dark pink sweater with a print that reads Paris and a blue tennis skirt as well as a pair of leggings.

“It’s September,” I tell her.

She raises an eyebrow. “So what?”

“I don’t want to wear a skirt. It’s cold.”

“You’ll survive.” She throws the clothes into my arms. “Put them on. Now.”

I complain some more, but in the end she wins the argument like she always does and I end up putting on the clothes she picked, anyway.

When I’m done, Evermore quickly looks me up and down­- once, then nods approvingly. “That’ll work. Can I do your hair and makeup too?”

I nod. “Sure.”

_____________

- Evermore -

I’m currently putting Lover’s hair up, when my phone vibrates.

“Can you just check my phone?” I ask her, pulling another strand back. “My hands are kind of occupied right now.”

“Yeah, of course.” She reaches over and grabs my phone from where it’s laying on her desk. “Reputation is texting you.”

“Oh?” I finish doing her hair, half of it still down while the other one is up in a small bun, then glance over her shoulder. “What is she saying?”

“That she doesn’t want to come tonight.”

I groan. “Oh. My. God. We already had that discussion. Tell her she doesn’t have a choice. I’m forcing her.”

I pull up a small hair strand I had missed earlier and fasten it with a pin, then make sure that everything is sitting firmly and won’t be undone within a few minutes. The sound of Lover typing something into my phone suddenly stops. “Oh, wait,” she says.

I grab another hairpin from her desk and place it into her hair. Just in case. “What?”

“This is a group chat,” she informs me. “Someone else just replied to her… Lost in Wonderland?”

“Oh, right.” I take a step back to admire my work. “That’s 1989. I’m done now, by the way.”

Lover hands me my phone and stands up to look at herself in the mirror. “Wow, thanks, Evermore.” She smiles at me, and I just nod, reading through the group chat that is still open on my phone.

the best trio

lonelywitch, lostinwonderland, reputaytionsnake13

reputaytionsnake13: I don’t want to come to the party.

lostinwonderland: Girl, no
lostinwonderland: You are obligated to come
lostinwonderland: We haven’t hung out in ages

reputaytionsnake13: but I don’t want to go to that party.

lonelywitch: reputation.

reputaytionsnake13: is… that supposed to be threatening?

lonelywitch: yes. 1989 is right, ur obligated to come.
lonelywitch: it’ll be fun, trust me

reputaytionsnake13: ugh. parties are so boring.

lonelywitch: they’re not
lonelywitch: just bring ur boyfriend or something

reputaytionsnake13: no.

lonelywitch: well okay? it was just an idea
lonelywitch: but there will be lots of other good-looking people you can make out with if you’re bored
lonelywitch:  me and lover r getting ready rn

lostinwonderland: Omg
lostinwonderland: Wait are u flirting with her??

lonelywitch: wtf no
lonelywitch: i’m just trying to get her to come to the party

reputaytionsnake13: why do you always talk about me like I’m not even here.

lonelywitch: cause i was talking to 1989
lonelywitch: anyway, rep u are coming, with or without your bf
lonelywitch: idc if u bring him, but it might make things more fun for u yk
lonelywitch: also we all get to be drunk so that’s gonna be fun

reputaytionsnake13: okay fine.
reputaytionsnake13: I’ll ask him.

Another notification pops up, and I open it, quickly glancing at Lover once. She’s currently occupied by her phone, too, rapidly typing something. I don’t know who she’s texting, but my first guess would be Folklore. Mainly because those two rarely text anyone else.

sadautumngirl: Is that party tonight still happening?

lonelywitch: yeah

sadautumngirl: Okay
sadautumngirl: Speak Now isn’t coming, right?

lonelywitch: i don’t think so
lonelywitch: why?

sadautumngirl: Okay
sadautumngirl: I might come

lonelywitch: yayy!!

_____________

- Lover -

I don’t know what I thought this party would be like, but this is definitely not it.

We arrived about ten minutes ago, and I already wish I had just stayed home. There are way more people here than “just a bunch of Evermore’s friends,” but somehow she still manages to know almost everyone’s name.

I do my best to follow her through the crowd, dodging the other kids as good as I can. “Evermore, wait!” I call after her.

Either she doesn’t hear me, or she just ignores me. Judging by how loud it is in here, it’s probably the former.

Somehow, I manage to grab her arm and force her to stop in midst of the moving crowd. She turns around and looks at me, eyebrows furrowed. “What?” she yells over the music.

“Can we go?” I ask. “Please?”

She shakes her head. “No, come on, we just have to-“

Whatever words she was going to say never leave her mouth.

“Evermore!” 1989 throws her arms around Evermore, pulling her into a hug. “You’re finally here!”

“Yeah, hi,” Evermore replies.

“Have you seen Rep?” 1989 asks. Then her eyes find me, and she smiles, but it doesn’t really reach her eyes. “Oh, hi, Lover.”

“Hi,” I reply.

“No,” Evermore says. “I thought maybe she was with you, but… I swear to god, if that bitch doesn’t show up, I’m gonna-“

“Evermore.” I look at her, scolding. “Don’t call her that.”

My cousin just rolls her eyes. “Yeah, sure. Sorry.”

She grabs my hand and pulls me further into the crowd, 1989 following closely behind us.

“Hey,” I protest, trying to free myself from her grip, but she won’t let me go. It’s kind of embarrassing that she’s stronger than me, considering the facts that, 1. I’m older (even if it’s just by a few months), and 2. I’m almost a whole head taller than her.

She suddenly stops in a room at the back of the house and sits down on a windowsill, finally letting go of my hand.

I glance outside. It’s dark except for the dim light beams from the street lanterns, so I can’t really see much. I look at Evermore. “I want to go home, please.”

She’s typing something on her phone and I’m not sure she even heard me. “Evermore?” I try again.

“Wait.” She puts her phone to her ear, gesturing for me to be quiet.

I look around. There’s not as many people back here as there are at the entrance – I can actually move without having to worry that I will accidentally bump into someone. The music is also a bit quieter, kind of muffled through the walls, and there are no disco lights. That’s a huge plus.

Yet, I still don’t feel even just slightly relaxed.

I notice that 1989 is no longer with us, and a moment later I spot her on the other side of the room, talking to some girl I don’t know. Right, I remember, she’s popular. Everyone knows her.

Since Evermore is still on the phone, I consider leaving by myself, but I’m not sure I’d even find the way back outside. So, I just stay where I am.

“Lover!” I turn around at the sound of someone calling my name and find Red walking towards me.

I smile “Hey!”

She hugs me, then pulls away and looks at me, a small grin on her lips. “You look great.”

“Oh, thanks.” I touch my hand to my hair, self-consciously. Evermore did a great job with getting me dressed up, but a few strands of my hair are already loosening, and either way, I’m not so sure I really look good tonight. Prettier than usually, I guess, but still not even nearly as beautiful as everyone around me.

“You too,” I say. It’s an understatement, really. Red looks stunning in her white blouse and black pants, hair pulled back into a simple ponytail except for a few dark red strands that frame her face. Her cherry lipstick and golden hoop earrings only add to the look and make her look even more magnificent.

“Thank you.” She smiles warmly at me. Then, her gaze drifts past me, to Evermore. “Who is she talking to?”

“I don’t know,” I say. “Probably Reputation?”

“Yeah, right.” Red rolls her eyes. “Those two are unbearable sometimes.”

“Actually, they’re pretty nice most of the time.”

“Oh?” she raises an eyebrow. “I didn’t realize you and Reputation were close.”

“I- We’re not. I mean… I’ve only talked to her a few times, and I’m not sure if we’re… If she, like, even considers me a friend.” For some reason my mind goes back to what my mom said to me a few nights ago, about how she thought I wanted to go to this party because of Reputation, and of the knowing look on her face. But that’s all ridiculous, right? I don’t even like her like that.

Nonetheless, I can still feel my cheeks heat.

“We’re… What I’m trying to say is that… we’re not… that close,” I conclude. God, this is embarrassing.

“Oookay.” By the grin on Red’s face, I can tell that she doesn’t fully believe me, but I keep my mouth shut, afraid that, if I say anything more, it will only make things worse.

“So,” I say, changing the topic, “How are you doing?”

“Oh, I’m okay.” She’s still smiling, but somehow it looks a lot more forced than her easy smiles just moments ago. But then again, maybe that’s just my imagination. Probably.

“That’s nice,” I say.

“Hey, Red.” Evermore is suddenly next to me, finally off the phone. “Does anyone else want a drink?”

“God, yes please,” Red says. “I need something really strong right now.”

Evermore furrows her eyebrows. “Why? Did something happen?”

Red shrugs. “Nothing bad, I guess. I just don’t want to have to think so much right now.”

“Okay.” Evermore looks at me. “You want anything, Lover?”

“A soda,” I reply. “And I also still want to go home.”

Evermore rolls her eyes at me. “I’ll get you a soda. Just wait here, okay?”

I nod, since I don’t really have a choice and Evermore and Red vanish in the crowd, leaving me alone. I sit down on the windowsill Evermore was sitting on earlier and wait.

The room is full of people, but I don’t think anyone really notices me, which is actually good because I don’t want to have to talk to any strangers.

I check my phone. There are two new DMs from Folklore.

mirrorballcat: heyy
mirrorballcat: how are you doing?

misstaymericana17: Idk
misstaymericana17: I want to go home but Evermore is forcing me to stay :(

mirrorballcat: you know you don’t have to
mirrorballcat: I can pick you up if you want

misstaymericana17: U don’t even have a car

mirrorballcat: I know
mirrorballcat: I’ll just walk
mirrorballcat: or take the bus

misstaymericana17: No it’s okay
misstaymericana17: I’ll be fine
misstaymericana17: But I’m never going to a party again
misstaymericana17: Evermore just left me alone and idk what to do :’(

mirrorballcat: do you know anyone else there?

misstaymericana17: I kinda know Red but she went to get drinks with Evermore
misstaymericana17: And I guess 1989 but I think she hates me

mirrorballcat: what?
mirrorballcat: why would she hate you?

misstaymericana17: Idk, she’s acting kinda weird around me

mirrorballcat: I don’t think she hates you <3
mirrorballcat: maybe she’s just going through something personal, idk
mirrorballcat: btw wasn’t reputation coming too?

misstaymericana17: Yeah I think so but she isn’t here yet

mirrorballcat: okay
mirrorballcat: I need to go now, sorry. woodvale wanted to facetime
mirrorballcat: but text me if you need help or if anything bad happens

misstaymericana17: Ofc!! I’ll be okay, dw <3

I close our chat and check my mail, then look up from my phone. Evermore and Red are still nowhere to be seen, so I open a fanfiction I was reading earlier today. I’ve come about half a chapter further when I get interrupted.

“Hi,” a familiar voice says.

I look up to see Reputation standing right in front of me. She’s wearing a tight black dress that ends at knee-length, her hair all pinned up and eyeliner even thicker than usually. Honestly, she looks more beautiful than I thought anyone ever could be.

“Um, hi,” I manage.

She looks at my phone, eyebrows furrowed. “What are you reading?”

“Nothing.” I quickly turn off the screen and stand up, straightening my skirt. “Um, have you seen Evermore?”

She shakes her head, then eyes my outfit. I suddenly feel way too underdressed. That thought I had earlier about being kind of pretty tonight? Screw that.

I’m nothing next to Reputation in her pretty dress and snake earrings and her perfect make-up and high heels and everything.

“Cute,” she comments, her eyes coming back up to meet mine.

I can feel the heat rushing into my cheeks, but that’s probably just because of how warm it is in here.

“Um, thanks.” I desperately search my mind for something nice I can say to her, that doesn’t sound too indifferent or too obsessive, but come up blank. Before I can make a fool out of myself once again, Evermore luckily comes to save me.

“Here’s your soda.” She hands me a closed can. “Sorry we left you alone so long.” Her eyes find Reputation. “But I guess you had company.”

“Yeah.” I open the can and drink a bit, then notice that Reputation is watching me, a smirk on her face.

“What?” I ask.

“You’re drinking soda?” She asks. “At a party? Seriously?”

I flush, embarrassed for some reason. “Yes, so what?”

She lifts an eyebrow, amused. “That’s… kinda cute.”

Coming from her, it kind of sounds like an insult.

“I’m not cute, I mumble, avoiding eye contact with anyone. Especially Reputation.

I’m not sure she heard me, because she doesn’t say anything more, but I can still feel her eyes on me, and I’m pretty sure that stupid smirk is still on her perfect lips.

“Does anyone know where 1989 is?” Evermore asks.

I shake my head.

“I think she was on the dance floor earlier when we went to get drinks,” Red says.

“Okay. Can we go find her?” Evermore asks into the round.

Reputation sighs. “Fine. But I need a drink first.” She holds out her empty hand to Evermore.

My cousin raises her eyebrows. “Get your own drink.”

Reputation groans. “Girl, just give me some of yours. You literally have a whole bottle of wine in your hand.” She pauses. “Please don’t tell me you’re gonna drink all of that by yourself.”

Evermore raises her eyebrows, grinning. “I’m gonna drink all of that by myself.”

Reputation looks like she wants to punch Evermore in the face and is trying really hard not to give in to that intrusive thought. “You’re insufferable.”

“Love you too.”

Red looks at me, raising an eyebrow. “Told you.”

“So,” Evermore says. “Can we go and find 1989 now?”

“Sure,” Red replies.

I don’t actually want to go to the dance floor, but since I don’t want to be left alone again, I follow along anyway. It’s kind of difficult not to lose the others in the crowd.

Once we’re there, it only takes about five seconds for Evermore to spot 1989. She all but shoves her wine bottle into my hand. “Hold that for me? I’m gonna dance.”

I don’t even get a chance to protest before she vanishes, miraculously somehow managing to push through the crowd despite the fact that most people here are taller than her.

“Come.” Red grabs my sleeve, pulling me to the side of the dance floor.

She leans against the wall, eyes closed, and holds her half empty glass in both hands. “Is it just me or is it way to warm in here?”

“Not just you,” I say, leaning against the wall beside her. “High school parties are gross.”

“I know.” She opens her eyes and smiles a bit. “The hype is really not deserved.”

“Mhm.” I stare at the crowd of dancing bodies, faces lit up in different colors, everyone smiling and laughing.

“Do you mind?” Reputation asks, ripping me from my thoughts. I didn’t even notice that she followed us until now.

“What?” I ask, then notice that she is pointing at the bottle in my hand. “Oh… um, I’m not sure you should drink that.”

She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, sure. Are you really just gonna be a good girl all the time?”

“I’m not-“

“Leave her alone,” Red chimes in. “You can have my drink. I don’t want more, anyway.” She hands her glass over to Reputation who takes it wordlessly.

I try to focus on the crowd, watching the dancing people. But for some strange reason, my mind always seems to go back to Reputation. I feel like her mere presence right next to me is starting to bother me.

Looking for a distraction, I turn to Red. “How long do you think Evermore will be gone?”

“I don’t know.” She’s staring at the dancing crowd, a strange expression on her face.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

“Yeah.” She blinks and her eyes glisten in the colorful light. With a jolt I realize that she’s trying to blink away tears.

“Hey…” I turn to Rep, handing her Evermore’s wine bottle so that I have at least one free hand. She takes it without protesting but doesn’t make any move to help me otherwise. I awkwardly pet Red’s shoulder, not quite sure what I’m supposed to do. “You can talk to me about it, if you want to.”

She wipes her eyes. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s okay,” I say. “Really. I’m not going to force you to tell me anything, but… You know, sometimes it’s just better to talk about the difficult stuff. It makes things easier.”

She nods slowly but doesn’t say anything. I don’t want to push her to talk if she doesn’t want to, so I just wait. The fast-paced pop song that was playing slowly fades out, changing into a somewhat a bit slower song.

I notice that Reputation is gone, but I find that I don’t really care. Like, at all.

“I… I don’t really know where to start.”

I look at Red. She’s avoiding eye contact, still staring at the crowd, new tears glistening in her eyes.

“Do you want a hug?” I ask. She just nods.

I wrap my arms around her shoulders and pull her into a hug, careful not to accidentally spill my soda on her. We stay like that for a moment, until she eventually pulls away. She looks at me, a sad smile on her lips. “Thanks, Lover.”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to, but if you do, I’m here for you and I’ll listen.”

“Yeah.” She nods. “It’s… I… my… my boyfriend and I had a fight last week. And I’m not sure… I mean, I don’t really know what to do anymore.” She blinks. “He’s, like… I don’t know. He’s always so sweet when it’s just the two of us, but whenever we’re around his friends or, like, other people in general he’s just… it’s like he’s a completely different person.” She pauses and looks around, almost as if she’s afraid that someone will overhear. Her cheeks are tearstained and her mascara a bit smeared.

“That… really sucks.” I hand her a tissue. “Maybe you should talk to him about it?”

She wipes her eyes. “I… I tried, but he won’t acknowledge anything he did. Like, he just blames everything on me and acts like I’m the one who’s screwing up our relationship… And sometimes I think that maybe he’s right, but I also know that that isn’t true.” She takes a shaky breath. “I guess… I… I still love him, but I don’t know how I’m supposed to handle this whole situation anymore. Now I’m oversharing, sorry.”

“It’s okay,” I tell her. God, I really wish Folklore were here to help me out. She’s much better at stuff like this than I am. “See, I don’t know him or anything, but… If it doesn’t feel good anymore, then maybe it just isn’t meant to be?”

She nods. “Yeah. Yeah, maybe… I don’t know. God, why are relationships always so complicated?”

I shrug. “I don’t know… I don’t really have that much experience in that area, to be honest.”

She raises an eyebrow at me, a small smile on her lips. To my delight, it doesn’t seem as forced or sad anymore. “Oh? Honestly, I would’ve thought you did. I mean, you’re super kind and pretty, what more could anyone ask for?”

I shrug. “Guess I just haven’t met the right person yet.”

She watches me, a thoughtful expression on her face. “So, is there anyone you’re interested in, like, at the moment?”

A name pops up in my thoughts immediately, but I push it to the back of my mind. “Not really.”

“You sure?” The look on her face makes me think she knows exactly who I was thinking about. I can feel myself blush.

“Yeah… really.”

“If you say so.” She doesn’t really seem to be convinced, but doesn’t ask any more about it, either.

I get out my phone to check the time. 8:31 pm. Time is moving way too slowly tonight.

“Are you going to participate in the contest?” Red asks.

“Yeah, I think so. Are you?”

She nods. “Yeah… Although, I have, like, no idea at all for a song.”

“Well, you’ve still got several months to come up with something. By the way, how did you and Speak Now even manage to find out about the contest before the announcement?”

Red stays quiet and when I look over at her, that strange expression from earlier is back on her face.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I say. “Wrong topic?”

She shakes her head. “No it’s okay. It’s just that Speak Now and I aren’t really… on speaking terms right now.” She blinks. “But yeah, we kind of accidentally overheard some of the teachers talking about it in the teachers’ room.”

I raise my eyebrows at her. “Accidentally?”

She grins. “Well, maybe not so accidentally. It was Speak Now’s idea, though. I’d normally never do that.”

“You two seem really close,” I say, before I can change my mind again.

Red stares into the distance. “Yeah. We are.”

_____________

- Reputation -

It’s 10:17 pm, according to the big clock on the wall. I don’t really know what I’m still doing here. A new drink in my hand, I am standing at the side of the room. People are still dancing – I think they’re even more now than when I first got here, which is ridiculous because seriously why would anyone want to dive right into that crowd of drunk high schoolers?

I take a sip of the undefinable liquid in my plastic cup and immediately shudder. It tastes like soap.

“You good?”

I look up to see an older boy leaning against the wall beside me. He’s definitely handsome, but not really my type.

“Yeah,” I say, unimpressed. “I’m fine.”

He grins. “Good. What’s your name?”

I glare at him coldly. “None of your business.”

His grin drops, but for whatever reason he still won’t leave me alone. So, I leave.

But before I’ve even taken two steps, his hand is around my wrist, pulling me back. “Hey, sweetheart, wait.”

I snatch my hand away from him, twisting his arm in one swift motion. “Don’t call me that,” I hiss and push him away. “And. don’t. ever. touch me again.”

He grimaces in pain, but I’m pretty sure he’ll be fine in a few minutes.

I push my way through the crowd. It feels like everything is spinning slightly, but that’s probably just the lights. I need to find the others… But why?

“Evermore!” I yell over the music when I glimpse a familiar braid of brown hair through the crowd of moving bodies. Of course, she doesn’t hear me.

I push my way toward her and tap her shoulder. “Evy!”

She turns around, surprised, probably ready to punch me in the face in case I’m some creep. When she sees that it’s me, she actually seems relieved. “Oh, hi Rep.”

I grin and hug her. “Heyyy!”

She pulls away, frowning. “God, how much did you drink?”

“Not that much,” I say. “I’m fine.”

She eyes me for a moment, skeptically, then nods. “Okay. Where is Lover?”

“I don’t know, I thought maybe she was with you.” I drink some more of the soap-flavored liquid.

“Well obviously not.” She turns around and taps a still-dancing 1989 on the shoulder. “We have to find Lover, are you coming?”

She nods and follows us through the crowd. It’s easier to push through now that there’s three of us, but I swear half the people here don’t even have eyes.

A girl steps on my foot, which hurts like hell and results in me pouring my drink on her. Evermore quickly grabs my hand and pulls me away before anyone can start a fight.

She swears under her breath. “Reputation, pull yourself together, please.”

“I’m fine,” I tell her again.

She doesn’t answer, and I realize that she’s probably not only angry at me because of almost starting a fight, but also because I left Lover alone.

“You didn’t tell me to look after her.”

Evermore stops and turns around to face me. She looks kind of angry. “No. Because I thought you could form that thought yourself, but obviously not.”

“It’s not my fault you brought her here!” I shout at her. “It’s not my job to look after your cousin just because she still acts like a fucking kid.”

“Don’t talk about her like that, you little-“

“Guys!” 1989 steps between us. “Evermore, calm down. We’ll find her.” She turns to me. “Rep, where was the last time you saw her?”

I look around. “I don’t know… somewhere over there?” I point vaguely in a direction. “Red was still with her.”

“Okay, good.” 1989 looks at Evermore. “See, she’s not alone.”

Evermore scoffs. “Yeah, if Red is still with her now.” She glares at me. “I’ll kill you if anything has happened to her.”

“Can you stop saying that you’ll kill me?” I ask, but they have both already started to make their way through the crowd again, so unless I want Evermore to hate me even more than she already does at the moment, I have no choice but to follow.

Somehow, Lover and Red are still in the exact same spot as they were two hours ago. When she catches sight of us, Lover lifts her hand and waves. Red stops talking and follows Lover’s gaze, smiling slightly when she sees us.

Evermore rushes forward and hugs Lover. I don’t know why, but I feel something similar too slight sting in my chest, seeing them like this. It’s weird.

“You okay?” Evermore asks.

Lover nods. “I’m fine.”

I notice that she is still holding her soda can in one hand.

“Sorry I left you alone again. Reputation was supposed to stay here, but…” She looks at me accusingly.

I roll my eyes. “Still not my fault.”

“You could’ve at least checked on he-“

“Guys.” 1989 looks kind of pissed. She doesn’t get pissed very often. “Everyone’s fine. Stop fighting.”

Evermore sighs and crosses her arms. She’s still glaring at me. “Okay. Fine.”

I raise an eyebrow.

“That also includes non-verbally fighting,” 1989 says.

I pout. “I’m not doing anything.”

She just rolls her eyes. “Does anyone have a drink?”

“Here,” Lover hands her the soda can. 1989 doesn’t look too happy about it, but she takes a swig anyway. “Thanks.”

Lover smiles. “No problem.”

The disco balls create colored light beams that slowly move over her face and highlight all the little details I hadn’t really thought about so much before, like her freckles and the pink lip gloss she’s wearing tonight, and her brown eyeliner that is just a bit darker than her skin. I notice only now that there is a small butterfly drawn diagonally under her left eye. It looks kind of… cute.

She lifts her gaze from the floor and our eyes meet. Everything seems to slow down. The sounds of the party are kind of muffled, far away. I’m not sure the others are even still here. The disco lights are reflected in her blue eyes, like in mirrors, creating an illusion of small stars.

I feel like I can’t think, but my mind has never been this clear.

Then she blushes and looks away, and the moment is broken. Or at least I think she blushes, it’s hard to tell with the moving lights and shadows that pass her face and make everything about her look even more colorful than it already is.

I notice that Red is watching me, a smile on her lips. I raise an eyebrow at her, but she just shakes her head, then looks at the others. “Did you guys have fun dancing?”

“Mhm,” Evermore nods and takes the soda from 1989, drinking some of it. “Yeah, we had fun.” She looks around for a moment then dives behind 1989 and Lover, trying to make herself as small as possible.

I scan the room, frowning. “Who are you hiding from?”

“No one.”

“Yes, you are,” 1989 says, starting to move away from her, which is blowing up Evermore’s cover.

She sighs. “Okay, maybe. Just a dude. From my science class.”

I grin. “Ohhh.”

She glares at me. “Hush.”

Red coughs. “Is your boyfriend really that bad, Evermore?”

She directs her glare at Red. “He’s not my boyfriend. Why does everyone keep saying that?”

“I don’t know, maybe cause he obviously likes you?” Red shrugs. Her eyes are following someone in the crowd, but it’s hard to make out whom.

“Okay, he’s gone,” she tells Evermore. “You can relax.”

Evermore actually looks relieved. “Thank God. That dude is starting to get really annoying.”

Lover furrows her eyebrows. “Why?”

“I think he stalks me or something? I don’t know but somehow he knows exactly when my piano lesson ends and stuff like that.” Evermore rolls her eyes.

“Maybe he just happened to see you there at some point?” Lover suggests.

“Yeah maybe,” Evermore says. Then she looks at me. “Speaking of boys, where’s Tom?”

“At some club,” I say, raising an eyebrow. “Why?”

“I thought he was coming, too. What the fuck is he doing at some club?” She draws quotation marks in the air around the last two words.

I shrug. “Don’t know.”

“Wow, you guys have really good communication.”

“Better than you and that guy from your science class,” I fire back.

“Ouch.” Evermore puts a hand to her heart, grinning. “I’m seriously wounded.”

“Tell Tom we missed him,” 1989 says.

“K.”

“Sorry,” Lover says, “I’m not quite following this conversation. Who’s Tom?”

“Oh, um,” Evermore looks at me, as if trying to tell me that I should answer the question.

Whatever.

I don’t know why she’s making such a big deal out of this.

“My boyfriend,” I say, looking right at Lover.

She blinks. The stars in her eyes are really pretty; I wish I could just look at them for- Before I can even finish that thought, she already breaks eye contact, looking down at the floor instead. “Oh… okay.”

I can’t help but grin. Is she seriously intimidated by the thought of me having a boyfriend?

Well, this is going to be fun.

_____________

- Lover -

“My father is forcing me to go to London with him in like two weeks,” 1989 says.

We are still at the party, all five of us standing in a corner together.

Reputation rolls her eyes, sipping on a drink she got herself by flirting with some guy earlier. “Why do adults always do that?”

“Don’t know,” 1989 replies, “but it’s annoying. Like, I’m almost seventeen, I’m pretty sure that’s old enough to be able to be left alone for a few days. But I guess he thinks I can’t be home alone for more than a day or so.”

“That’s stupid,” Evermore mutters. “He’s an idiot, really.”

1989 smiles slightly. “Yeah, he is.”

“I’m sure it won’t be that bad,” I say, trying to be as optimistic as I can. “London is a beautiful city; I wish I could visit there sometime.”

Reputation looks at me. Her cheeks are rosy, and I’m pretty sure she’s a bit… tipsy, even if she won’t admit it. A while ago, I tried to stop her from drinking more but of course she didn’t listen. “Why do you always do that?” She asks.

“Do what?”

“That… Everything will be sooo great, we’ll be best friends and there’s nothing to worry about, like ever, because everything is just perfect, and everyone is sooo nice.”

I think she’s trying to do an imitation of my voice, but it’s not working. When she’s finished, she fake-grins at me and then takes a swig of her drink.

“I never said any of those things,” I say. My cheeks feel too warm. I know that she’s drunk and she probably never would’ve said any of that while sober, but it still stings.

Evermore coughs. “I object.”

I try to glare at her. “I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did,” Reputation says. “You say stuff like that all the time.”

“You’re drunk,” Red states. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I do.” Reputation half-glares at her. “I can still think clear.”

“Yeah, not so sure about that,” Evermore mutters under her breath.

Red sighs. “Whatever.” She looks at 1989. “But Lover is right, London really is beautiful. My brother started university there last month and the photos he’s taken so far are all amazing.”

1989 shrugs. “Yeah, I guess. But I probably won’t be allowed to leave the hotel, like, at all, so I won’t really see anything of the city. My father is kind of… strict.”

“That’s really fucked up,” Red says.

I look at 1989. “Maybe he just doesn’t let you outside because he’s scared that something will happen to you?”

She laughs hollowly. “Nope. Trust me when I say he doesn’t care about me at all – I’m more of a problem to him than anything else.”

“Just sneak out,” Evermore tells her. “I bet he won’t notice.”

“Nah, he will. And I don’t want to get into trouble.”

Evermore rolls her eyes. “Sometimes you’re too much of a good girl. Just fucking break the rules for once.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being a good girl,” I mutter.

“But it’s boring,” Reputation complains.

For once, I decide to just ignore her.

_____________

- Reputation -

Lover is ignoring me. I can tell because she hasn’t looked at me once since I said that stuff about her earlier, and usually she always keeps looking at everyone and everything around her. It’s kind of funny, like she’s trying too hard to absorb everything that is happening, wherever she goes.

Honestly, I don’t understand her one bit. And it’s really annoying me.

I’ve long ago lost track of what the others are talking about. The only even just slightly interesting thing here is the drink in my hand, but it’s almost empty so I’ll probably have to find myself a new one soon.

I twist the fancy straw between my fingers and glance over at Lover. She’s talking to Red but then suddenly stops mid-sentence – at least I think so, I’m not listening to what they say anyway – and quickly checks her phone. “Hey guys, I should really go now. I promised my mom I’d be home by midnight.”

Evermore rolls her eyes. “We’ve only been here for a few hours.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” Lover gives her an apologetic smile. “But I have to go.”

“Yeah, me too,” Red says. “My mom is coming to pick me up in, like, ten minutes.”

Evermore heaves an exasperated sigh. “Sorry, but you guys are so boring sometimes.”

“Told you,” I say.

She turns to look at me. “No, you didn’t. You said…” she stops, her eyes finding the almost empty drink I am still holding. “Rep, how much did you drink? I’m serious.”

I shrug. “Don’t know.”

She narrows her eyes. “What do you mean you don’t know?”

“Why would I keep count?”

She turns to 1989. “We should probably get her home, shouldn’t we?”

1989 raises her hands in a shielding gesture. “It was your idea to bring her, not mine.”

“I’m not that drunk,” I object.

They just ignore me.

“But you have a car, not me,” Evermore throws back at 1989.

1989 sighs, letting her hands fall to her sides in defense. “Okay, fine. But you’re helping me.”

“Can you please stop talking about me like I can’t hear you?” I ask. “Because I can and I’m also still not that drunk. I can take care of myself.”

1989 raises her eyebrows at me. “Yeah, sure.”

I grin. “See?”

She just shakes her head and turns to Lover. “You need a ride home?”

“Yes, please.” Lover smiles at her.

She looks pretty when she’s smiling.

But I don’t like her like that anyway.

“So, can we leave now?” she asks, her question mostly directed at Evermore.

“Yeah” Evermore says and starts to follow her cousin towards the entrance, leaving me alone with 1989 and Red.

I start to empty my drink, but before I can, 1989 takes it away from me. I glare at her but she stays unfazed, following Evermore and Lover. On the way out, she simply pours my drink into a garbage can.

“Hey,” I protest, but she shows no reaction, instead turning to Red. “So, you don’t need a ride home, right?”

“No, mom’s picking me up,” Red answers.

“Okay, good.”

I reach out and grab 1989’s hand, looking around. “Where did Lover and Evy go?”

She looks confused for a moment but then her expression clears again. “Maybe they’re already outside? How am I supposed to know?”

“I want them to come back,” I complain.

She sighs, exchanging a look with Red that I can’t quite identify. My thoughts are kind of hazy. I feel like thinking takes too much energy.

“Where are they?” I ask again.

“Man, I don’t know!” 1989 exclaims. “We’ll get you outside and then find them, okay?”

“But I want to-“

She glances at me. “Rep, please get your shit together. We can discuss your little crush on her later.”

I stop. Just stand there in the middle of the crowd. My mind a mess.

1989 stops too, and I notice that I’m still holding on to her hand like a little kid that doesn’t want to get lost at the grocery store, so I let go.

“I don’t have I crush on Evermore.” I say.

1989 sighs, unnerved. “Well, obviously not. I was talking about your crush on Lover.”

“What?”

She takes my hand again and starts pulling me through the crowd, towards the exit.

“But I don’t even like her!”

“Yes, you do.”

“No,” I insist. “She’s annoying. I don’t like her.”

Red stifles a laugh and I glare at her. “I. do. not. like. her.”

She shrugs. “Sure. Whatever.”

We reach the exit and the cold autumn air is a welcoming refreshment on my heated skin.

1989 gently nudges my arm and vaguely nods her head into a direction. I follow her gaze and find Lover and Evermore standing at the side of the house, talking to each other. When they catch sight of us, Evermore lifts her hand and waves.

“They’re here,” I tell 1989, smiling.

“I know,” she says.

Evermore comes over to us, Lover following closely behind her. “You guys okay?”

“Yeah,” 1989 says. “We had some… minor inconveniences getting out here, but we’re good now.” She glances at me when she says minor inconveniences, but I don’t really know what she means by that.

“K. So we’re ready to go now?”

“Yeah…” 1989 looks at Red “Do you want us to wait with you until your mom’s here?”

“Yes, please. If you’re not in a hurry, that would be really nice.”

“Of course,” Lover says. “I’ll just call my mom real quick, if you guys don’t mind.” She goes a few steps away and stands on the side, her phone pressed to her ear. I watch her as she waits for her mom to pick up.

“Evermore?” Red’s voice is a sudden disruption in the silence between the four of us, so I turn my gaze away from Lover and look at her.

“What?” Evermore asks, a confused look on her face.

Red glances at something behind Evermore and I follow her gaze. Some guy I’m pretty sure I have never seen before is walking towards us.

“Nothing,” Red says, her eyes still focused on the guy. “Just… don’t freak out. Please.”

Evermore furrows her eyebrows. “Red, what is going on?”

Red opens her mouth, then closes it again.

The guy stops behind Evermore and lightly taps her shoulder. “Hi Evermore.”

She whirls around, the look on her face telling me that she’s been caught off guard.

“Oh,” she says under her breath. “Hi.”

The guy looks kind of worried, his dirty blonde eyebrows furrowing as he looks down at Evermore. For some reason their height difference is really funny to me, but then again Evermore is shorter than, like, almost everyone. So, I probably shouldn’t be surprised.

“I’m sorry,” the guy says, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You didn’t,” Evermore says, her voice steady, back to her normal confident self again. “I don’t get scared.”

He grins crookedly. “That’s good to know.” Then he glances back over his shoulder. “I have to go now, just wanted to say hi to you.” He stops, seemingly only now noticing me, 1989 and Red for the first time since he got here. His confidence seems to shrink just a bit. “But I’ll see you at school?” He asks Evermore.

“Oh… um, yeah. I guess.”

“Cool.” He gives her one more short smile and then he’s gone.

“What the fuck was that?” 1989 asks.

Evermore blows an escape strand of hair out of her face. “No idea.”

“He’s kind of obsessed with you,” Red says, glancing over at where the guy is standing with some other guys – probably his friends.

“Yeah,” Evermore agrees. “I don’t understand why, though. I literally don’t even know him.”

Red grins. “Well, yeah. That look on your face when he appeared behind you was incredible.”

Evermore glares at her. “Not. funny.”

1989 coughs. “It kind of was.”

“Yeah,” I agree, “I don’t even know that guy but I love him already just for annoying you.”

“A match made in heaven,” 1989 adds, grinning.

Evermore looks like she’s ready to punch us both in the face if we make just one more comment. It’s just one of her usual expressions, though. “Why does he have to be so obsessed with me?” she whimpers.

Red shrugs. “Honestly, I don’t know what your problem is. He seems nice enough.”

“Yeah, but he’s annoying as hell.”

Just in that moment, Lover rejoins us, phone still pressed to her ear. “Yes, I’ll tell her,” she says. “Love you too.”

After she has hung up, she looks at Evermore. “My mom is asking if you want to stay over for the night.”

“Yeah,” Evermore responds. “Thanks. Your mom is literally the best.”

I raise an eyebrow at her, but she just ignores me. I feel like everyone is ignoring me recently.

A car pulls into the street and stops a few yards

“That’s my mom,” Red says, giving Evermore a quick hug before she leaves. She looks back once and waves her hand. “I’ll see you guys on Monday.”

“Yeah,” Lover replies. “See you!”

Red smiles and opens the car door and then she’s inside the car and they drive away, leaving just the four of us.

“You guys ready to go?” 1989 asks.

Lover nods.

“I don’t want to go home,” I complain as we make our way to 1989’s car which is parked somewhere down the block.

“Shut up,” Evermore tells me. “You don’t have a say in this.”

I glare at her, but she forces me into the backseat of the car anyway. For some reason, Lover ends up in the back too, with only the empty middle seat between us. I push that thought aside.

1989 starts the car and pulls out of the parking lot. It’s completely quiet except for the engine.

“Hey, can I put on a CD?” Evermore asks after a moment.

“Sure,” 1989 replies.

Lover finally tears her eyes away from the window, instead looking to at the front of the car, where Evermore is searching through 1989’s CD collection. Which is huge – basically it’s just a wooden box with approximately sixty-something different CDs inside, but I know for a fact she has at least one other copy of all those CDs at home and even then, that’s just a fraction of her complete collection. I don’t really understand her obsession with retro stuff, but I guess I’ve gotten used to it by now.

“Oh, wow,” Lover blurts out. “That’s so cool.”

I can see 1989’s smile in the rearview mirror and roll my eyes at her. She should really get that obsession of hers under control. “Thanks,” she says.

Lover leans over just a bit, probably so she can better see the CDs. The box is currently sitting on Evermore’s lap, since its usual spot on the passenger seat is currently occupied by Evermore.

“Ha, found it!” Evermore exclaims just a moment later, holding up a CD. I don’t have to look to know that it’s Dorothea’s moonlit album. It’s not really like Evermore ever listens to anything else. At least not if Dorothea is an option.

“Wait,” Lover says, “can you just go back a couple CDs?”

Evermore sighs. “Lover, we’re not listening to some random album just because you think the cover is pretty.”

I snort. “What?”

“Has happened before,” Evermore says.

In the dim light, I can tell that Lover is blushing ever so slightly. “Shut up,” she mumbles.

Much to my surprise, Evermore doesn’t even try to argue with her, instead going back a couple CDs, just as Lover has asked her to. It’s weird, really. She argues with me all the time, and almost as much with 1989, even though their arguments never last for very long.

"Oh my God, I love that album!" Lover exclaims, then looks up at 1989. "You listen to Harry Styles?"

1989 keeps her eyes on the road but smiles. “Yeah.” She pulls around a corner and then glances over at the CDs in Evermore’s lap. “Which album?”

“Harry’s House,” Lover replies.

I roll my eyes. “Can you two please stop.”

Once again, they simply ignore me.

“Yeah, I love that album too,” 1989 says. “I literally have the CD on repeat, like, all the time.”

Evermore sighs. “Guys, I can’t believe I’m actually agreeing with Rep for once, but really, can you please have this conversation another time? I want to listen to Dorothea now.”

“Just put on the CD,” 1989 tells her. “No one is stopping you from doing that. You can still listen to music even if we’re talking.”

“Fine,” Evermore grumbles, switching on the little portable speaker that 1989 keeps in the front of her car. A moment later the first notes of Carolina echo through the car. The only reason I even know which song it is, is because Evermore has forced me to listen to the album too many times.

Lover shifts a bit next to me, sinking back into her seat. She looks kind of relaxed, compared to how awkward she’s been acting earlier tonight. “Hey,” she asks, her eyes on the back of 1989’s seat. “What’s your favourite song? From the album, I mean.”

1989 is quiet for a moment. “I don’t really know, to be honest. It’s really hard to choose just one.”

“Yeah,” Lover agrees, staring out the window once again.

“Do you have one?” 1989 asks after a moment.

Lover hesitates. “I think for me, um… Little Freak is probably my all-time favorite. But I also really like As it Was.”

“They’re both amazing,” 1989 agrees.

I groan. “You guys are so. boring.”

“Rep, just shut up,” Evermore tells me. “No one cares if you think they’re boring.”

“But it’s so basic that Lover likes Harry Styles,” I complain. “You literally can’t even disagree with me on that.”

“Whatever,” Evermore says. “I don’t really care, to be honest. You’re just trying to start a fight because you’re drunk.”

“I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No.” I glance over at Lover. She’s leaning her head against the window, staring outside. Maybe she didn’t even listen to our conversation. “I’m just saying the truth.”

She turns her head slightly and – for the first time since we got in the car – looks at me. I feel like I can’t breathe. The stars are gone, and her eyes have instead turned into dark blue oceans, shimmering in the darkness. I have the strange feeling that I will drown in them.

And I think I wouldn’t mind it at all.

“Fine, maybe I am basic,” she says. “But you know what? I don’t care.”

She leans her head back against the window and shuts her eyes. “Just leave me alone, please.”

I guess she finally hates me back, now. Isn’t that what I’ve wanted her to do for the past three years or so? Then why doesn’t it feel like a win at all?

For the rest of the ride, we’re all quiet except for the occasional directions Evermore is giving 1989. Eventually, we pull into the street where Lover lives and 1989 stops the car in front of her house.

“Thanks,” Lover says, unbuckling her seatbelt and opening the door. “You sure you don’t need any help with…?”

“No, it’s fine,” 1989 replies. “But thanks for asking.”

Lover smiles quickly and then gets out of the car. I try to ignore the sting that I feel when she doesn’t acknowledge me at all.

She joins Evermore, who is already waiting on the sidewalk and waves once before she turns away and they both enter the house. I’m taken back to that time a few days ago, when I sat in my car, parked in the exact same spot as 1989’s is now, and watched Lover disappear behind that door, just like now.

Somehow that feels ages ago.

1989 starts the engine of her car and we slowly roll down the street, around the corner.

The only sound is the quiet music from the CD player, Dorothea’s voice singing the last notes of Renegade.

It’s not even nearly loud enough to drown out my thoughts.

_____________

- Lover -

It’s 2 AM. Evermore is long asleep next to me, but it just feels impossible for me to go to sleep too. My laptop is sitting at the other end of my bed, the closing credits of some fantasy series that Evermore picked earlier still playing. Even though I’ve been staring at the screen for the past hour or so, I still have no idea what exactly the series is about. I guess my thoughts were kind of occupied by other things.

I reach for my phone, intending to text Folklore and see if she’s still awake, but when I switch on the screen, a new notification catches my attention. To be more precise, a message.

And it’s not from Folklore.

My heart stops for a moment and then speeds up faster than it should.

reputaytionsnake13: your eyes are so pretty.

Chapter Text

- Speak Now -

“Can you get the door?” Emma asks, looking up from the canvas which she is currently painting on her bedroom floor. There’s some blue paint smeared across her cheek, and both her hands are covered in several colors. I’m sprawled out on her bed, with my notes and schoolbooks scattered all around me. Even though I’ve been trying to study for the past two hours or so, I still can’t really concentrate.

“Yeah, sure.” I get up and cross the room, then stop with my hand on the doorknob. “Dad isn’t coming home earlier, right?”

Emma shakes her head, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration as she paints another line. “No, I don’t think so.”

“Weird,” I mutter as I walk down the hall. Who the hell would just randomly ring our doorbell at two PM on a normal Saturday, without any invitation?

I quickly check my reflection in the mirror. Just in case. My hair is a bit messy and I’m just wearing an oversized washed-out t-shirt over leggings. I close my eyes for a second and pray silently that it isn’t John who’s waiting on the other side of the door. Even though that’s extremely unlikely, considering the fact that he doesn’t even know my address. But you never know.

I take a deep breath and open the door. It’s pouring outside.

“Hey,” Red says, her voice small. I blink, astonished.

“Hi?”

She stares at the floor, fidgeting with her hands. It’s a tick she’s had for as long as I can remember. “I just wanted to say that I’m sorry… for dumping you and all that.”

“Oh.” I blink. “It’s fine.”

She looks up, her eyes finally meeting mine. Her hair is soaking from the rain. “No, it isn’t. I was a shitty friend.”

I sigh. “Okay, maybe you were. But you’re here now, aren’t you?”

She chews on her lower lip, and blinks a few times, as if trying to fight back tears. “I’m so sorry.”

I take a step outside, ignoring the fact that my socks get soaked wet with rainwater, and wrap my arms around her, pulling her into a hug. “It’s okay, Red.”

She sniffles, resting her head on my shoulder. “I’m sorry,” she repeats.

I hug her closer and mumble, “Stop saying sorry.”

She breaks away and wipes her eyes, then gives me a shaky smile. “Thanks, Speak Now.”

“Of course. Do you want to come inside?”

She hesitates. “I don’t want to intrude-“

“You wouldn’t be,” I tell her. “You know how much Emma loves you, and my dad won’t be home until tonight.”

“You don’t have to invite me in – I just wanted to see you and say sorry. I really don’t want to bother you, you probably have other things to-“

“Red,” I say.

She finally shuts up and looks at me.

“Stop the rambling, please. I really don’t have anything important to do right now, and we haven’t hung out in forever, so, do you want to stay for a while?”

After a moment, she nods. “Okay.”

I smile at her and take her hand, pulling her along inside. She takes off her shoes and jacket, leaving it on the coat rack, and then follows me down the hall.

I stop by Emma’s room and pop my head inside. She looks up from her canvas, a pencil in her hand and a questioning expression on her face.

“Red and I are in my room,” I tell her.

She smiles and gives me a thumbs up, then returns her focus to the painting she’s been working on.

“So, did your date last week go well, at least?” I ask.

I’m sitting on my bed, with my back leaning against the wall, while Red is laying with her head in my lap. She blows a strand of hair out of her face. “I wish it did.”

Mentally, I roll my eyes. Of course it didn’t. I genuinely can’t remember the last time she hung out with her boyfriend and wasn’t sad after.

“What happened?”

She’s quiet for a moment. “Can we… not talk about him right now?”

“Sure,” I say. “But if you want me to beat him up for you, you know you just have to tell me.”

She looks up at me, the ghost of a smile on her lips. “Yeah, I know. Thanks.”

“No problem.”

We sit in silence for a moment, until I remember something. “Shit,” I mutter, reaching for my phone.

Red follows my movement with her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“I just remembered I promised Fearless and Debut that I’d hang out with them today… But I’ll just tell them we’ll have to do that another time.” I unlock my phone and open our group chat.

Red props herself up on one elbow and shakes her head. “No, it’s okay. I’ll just leave.”

I drop my hand with my phone in it and look at her. “Please don’t go.”

“I didn’t mean to ruin all your plans for today,” Red says. “You wanted to hang out with them, not me. It’s okay, really.”

“I mean… yeah,” I say. “But you’re my best friend. And I want to hang out with you, too.” I pause. “Do you think it could work if all four of us hang out together?”

Red is quiet for a moment. “Don’t know.” She lets herself fall back down onto my mattress with a sigh and stares up at the ceiling. “No offense, but… I don’t really like Fearless.”

I grit my teeth. “I know. But do you think you guys could at least try to get along with each other? Please? Just for today.”

Red sighs. “Fine. I’ll try.”

I smile at her. “Thanks, you’re the best.”

country girls

enchantedfairy, missperfectlyfine, stupidoldpickuptruck

enchantedfairy: Hey guys
enchantedfairy: If you’re still coming to mine today, I just wanted to let you know that Red will be there too

missperfectlyfine: Are you guys finally talking again? :D

enchantedfairy: Yeah

missperfectlyfine: Yayy!!
missperfectlyfine: Was about time
missperfectlyfine: Is 4 PM still okay?

enchantedfairy: Yes! I’ll see you guys then?

stupidoldpickuptruck: Yeah!!! See y’all later :)

I put down my phone and look at Red. She’s watching me, a small smile on her lips.

“What?” I ask.

“Oh, nothing…” She’s quiet for a moment, then adds, “I was just thinking about how much I missed you.”

“Aww, I missed you too.” I start to play with her hair, twisting a strand around my fingers. “We really didn’t talk to each other for over a week.”

She snorts. “Yep. We should’ve just talked it out right away.”

“Mhm. By the way…” I pause, not sure if I should even tell her about this, right now. Her hair is still twisted around my fingers.

“What?” She asks after a moment, when I still haven’t continued.

“I have a boyfriend.” The words leave my mouth before I can really think them through. I keep staring at her hair in my hand, avoiding to look her in the eyes.

Red sits up with a jolt. “What?”

“Just thought you’d maybe want to know,” I mumble, already feeling my cheeks heat.

“Since when?” Red asks.

“Last week? I don’t really know when exactly we started to date, but we are dating now.”

“Oh my God!” She throws her arms around me, pulling me into a hug. “I’m so happy for you,” she mumbles into my shoulder.

I hug her back. “Thanks. Sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.”

“It’s fine,” she says, pulling away to look at me, a smile on her face. “It’s not your fault… we weren’t talking, so I get it.”

“Yeah… still.”

She shakes her head. “No, really. What’s his name? Do I know him?”

I hesitate. “I… I don’t think so. His name’s John.”

Red freezes. “John?”

“Yeah.” I look at her, surprised. “Wait, you do know him, don’t you?”

She doesn’t answer.

“Red?” I ask.

“Yeah… I… no, I don’t know him. But… I’ve heard some stuff. Speak Now, I’m sorry, I really wish I didn’t have to tell you this, but I don’t think you should date him.”

I scoff. “You don’t get to tell me about that.”

“I know…” She chews on her lip, a worried expression on her face. “I’m just… trying to help. Really.”

“I’m not breaking up with him. He’s nice. I don’t understand why you have a problem with us being a couple.”

“He’s a playboy,” she starts, a certain hesitation in her voice. “I just don’t want him to break your heart.”

“I don’t need any relationship advice from you.” It’s hard to keep the anger from my voice. “No offense, Red, but you’re probably the last person I would go to for that.”

She blinks rapidly, keeping her eyes down. “Yeah… I’m sorry.”

I open my mouth to make another nasty comment, but something stops me. It isn’t really worth it, is it?

“Sorry,” I mutter. “I didn’t mean to come at you like that.”

She shrugs, but I can see that there are tears glistening in her eyes. “It’s okay. I know that my relationship is kind of fucked up.”

“Still, I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry.” I wrap my arms around her, resting my head on her shoulder. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” she murmurs. “Just… be careful with John, okay?”

“Yeah,” I say.

We stay like that for a while, just hugging each other in silence, until a quiet meow interrupts that silence. I let go of Red and turn my head, to find Emma standing in the doorway, with Meredith in her arms.

“Hey,” she says, watching us with a funny expression on her face. “Sorry if I interrupted anything. I just wanted to know if your other friends are still coming over later?”

“Uh, yeah,” I reply, pushing a curl that must have escaped my ponytail behind my ear, feeling a bit flustered for absolutely no reason. “Yeah, they are. Why?”

“Oh, just checking.” Her eyes wander from me to Red and then back again. The look in her eyes is one I can’t quite identify. “I thought I’d bake some chocolate cake, if that’s okay with you guys?”

“Good idea.” Red gets up from my bed and crosses the room. “Can I help you?”

“Sure,” Emma replies, her eyes finding mine. “Do you wanna help too?”

I sigh and roll my eyes. “I can watch.”

She just shakes her head, smiling. “Fine. But get Meredith some food first.” With that, she drops my cat to the floor and leaves the room. Red follows her.

Meredith makes her way over to my bed, and hops onto the mattress, strolling around without any destination.

“Let’s go get you some food,” I say and get up.

The only answer I get is a quiet meow.

_____________

- Red -

Thick raindrops hit the window, creating a cozy and warm atmosphere in Speak Now’s small room. We’re all sitting cramped together on her bed, Except for Debut who claimed the desk first chance she got. She’s sitting on it now, dangling her feet, a piece of cake in her hand.

The walls are almost completely covered in black vinyls and vintage band posters, most of them kept in gray scale, while the curtains and rug, as well as Speak Now’s bed sheets, all are different shades of purple. Her room has looked this way for years now, and it’s weird to think that there were once toy castles and princess costumes, that we used to play with, scattered all over the floor.

“Hey, you guys all know Lover and Reputation, right?” I ask.

“I don’t really know them,” Fearless says. “But yeah, I’ve seen them before, I think. Why?”

Speak Now looks up from her cake, her eyes meeting mine. “Wait, what happened?”

“So, I was at this party yesterday… You know, with Evermore and some other people.”

“Yeah?” Speak Now asks.

“And Lover and Reputation were both there, too. And I’m like ninety-nine percent sure that there’s something going on between them.”

“Oh my God!” I can tell that Speak Now is trying to fight back a grin, but she fails. “I know, right? Like, I saw them at the library the other day and I’m not really sure about Reputation, but Lover definitely likes her.”

“Yeah,” I say. “I don’t really know her that well, but I think she likes Lover back. I mean… she kind of got drunk and made fun of Lover. Probably to get her attention or something?”

Fearless giggles. “Wow, that sounds like some really fucked up high school rom-com movie.”

“For real,” Speak Now agrees. She looks at me. “What happened next?”

“Not that much,” I say. “At some point she kind of got sad because Lover and Evermore were gone, but that’s pretty much it.”

Speak Now pouts. “Girlie should just admit she has a crush.”

She looks over at Debut and raises an eyebrow at her. “You okay?”

“Yeah? Why?” Debut looks a bit confused.

“Don’t know,” Speak Now says. “You’re so quiet.”

Debut blows one of her blonde corkscrew-curls out of her face. “What am I supposed to say? You all are just gonna be mean again if I say that Lover and Reputation are weird.”

Speak Now rolls her eyes. “Aaaand Debut (Homophobic Version) strikes again,” she mutters.

“I’m not homophobic just cause I think they’re weird,” Debut protests. “That’s not the same thing.”

“You don’t even know them,” Speak Now states.

Debut just shrugs. “I can still tell that they’re weird. All your friends are weird.”

“I’m not even friends with them?” Speak Now looks amused. “Also, did you just call yourself weird?”

“No, I didn’t mean myself with that. Just all your other friends.”

Speak Now shakes her head, grinning ever so slightly. “You are weird.”

“Shut up,” Debut says.

“Nah, she’s right,” Fearless says. “You’re a bit weird sometimes. Most of the time, actually. But we still love you.”

Debut throws one of Speak Now’s stuffed animals – that always sit on her desk and windowsill – at her. “I hate you.”

“Love you too,” Fearless says, catching the rabbit before it can hit her. “By the way, what’s it with you and that one guy who sits next to you in English class… Corey?”

Debut blushes just a bit. “What about him?”

“You like him, don’t you?” Fearless asks, a grin on her face.

“No idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, you so know. I’m gonna force you to talk to him if you don’t make the first move by yourself next week.”

“You won’t!”

“Yes, I will. I know that you’re never gonna manage to make a conversation with him by yourself so I’m helping you. You can thank me later.”

“That’s unfair,” Debut complains. “I want to know who your crush is, too.”

“No idea what you’re talking about,” Fearless says. “I don’t have a crush.”

Debut furrows her eyebrows. “Yeah. You’re still bad at lying. I’ll find you out, no matter what it takes.”

“How threatening.” Speak Now rolls her eyes at them. “But Fearless is right, Debut. You should totally start a conversation with him and just see how it goes.”

Debut doesn’t look too happy about their advice, but she doesn’t protest either. “Fine.”

“Talking of boys…” Speak Now looks at me. “How’s Ed doing?”

“Who’s Ed?” Debut asks.

“My older brother,” I say, then, directed at Speak Now, I add, “He’s doing good, why?”

“Just wondering,” Speak Now says.

“Wow, okay. Weird change in topic, but I guess it works?” Fearless raises her eyebrow at Speak Now.

“What, it’s not that weird,” Speak Now objects.

Fearless opens her mouth to say something, but Debut is faster. “Wait,” she says, playing with one of her curls. “Your brother’s name is Ed?”

“Yeah,” I say.

A grin spreads across her face. “Red and Ed. Your parents were really creative with y’all’s names.”

“Girl-“ Speak Now starts.

I sigh. “I know. I don’t know what possessed them to do that to us. Naming your children almost the same thing should be illegal.”

“Really.” Debut pauses for a moment, her expression far away, lost in thought. Then, she asks, “Is he at least hot?”

I choke on the piece of cake I was just eating. “Excuse me, what?” I cough out.

“I was just wondering!”

“Yeah, but why do you need to know that?” I ask.

“I just need options,” she says. “You know, in case my crush doesn’t work out. And Fearless and Speak Now are refusing to let me burn down anyone’s house, so…”

“You should get therapy,” Speak Now murmurs.

Debut glares at her. “No, you should.” She turns back to me. “So? Is he?”

“I… don’t know,” I say. “I never really thought about it.”

“Do you have any photos of him?” she asks.

“Forget it,” I say. “You and him isn’t going to happen.”

“I just wanna see what he looks like. Please.”

I shake my head.

“Wait a sec.” Speak Now picks up her phone, and starts scrolling through it. “I’ll find you a photo.”

“Girl, that’s weird,” Fearless says. “You don’t just randomly have photos of your best friend’s brother on your phone.”

“Except I do,” Speak Now mutters, still scrolling, her eyes glued to the screen.

“How did you even get them?” Fearless asks.

“We practically kind of grew up together,” Speak Now says. “Like, he lived in the same house as Red, and I visited there all the time, so naturally there are photos of us all together. It’s not that weird.”

I glance over her shoulder, to see the photos she’s scrolling through. “That’s not photos of us all,” I say. “You stalked his Insta account for them.”

“Shut up,” she murmurs. “I’m trying to find one of us all that isn’t from when we were, like, ten years old or younger.”

“God, just give up already,” I tell her. “You know that there are no recent ones of us all. The only ones you have saved on your phone are from, like, kindergarten, and those weird ones from his Insta.”

“Why do you even have photos from his Instagram account on your phone?” Debut asks, her eyebrow furrowed in confusion.

“I don’t know,” Speak No says.

“Yeah, sure.” I try not to laugh, and look over at Debut. “She used to have the biggest crush on him, so she kind of stalked all his accounts and saved all the photos she could find… Which is actually really weird, now that I think about it. And she also sucks at deleting stuff from her gallery once she doesn’t need it anymore, so that would probably explain why she still has them.”

“Just shut up,” Speak Now tells me, a faint blush covering her cheeks. She isn’t even bothered enough to look up from her phone, though.

“Wait, what? Why did I not know about this, Speak Now?” Fearless asks. “Isn’t it, like, illegal to crush on your friend’s brother?”

“I was like fourteen or fifteen, okay?”

“That doesn’t make it any better,” Fearless says. “You’re sixteen now, so that’s like two years older, at best.”

“Yeah…” Speak Now looks up from her phone. “But I’m much more mature now, trust me.”

I cough. “Um, sorry, but no… not really.”

“Whatever,” she says. Her cheeks are still slightly red. “I don’t like him anymore, so… can we please just drop that topic?”

“I still wanna see him,” Debut complains. “Even though my hopes are kinda down, now that I know you used to like him. No offense, but your taste in guys is kinda horrible.”

Fearless tries to stifle a laugh.

“It’s not,” Speak Now protests. “You’re the one with bad taste.”

Debut rolls her eyes. “Whatever. Did you find a photo or not?”

Speak Now hesitates. “Yeah… but he’s like fourteen or something in this. He looks kind of different now.” She holds out her phone for Debut.

The younger girl stares at the screen, furrowing her eyebrows. “Um, how could you have a crush on that guy?”

“That photo is from years ago!” Speak Now tries to defend herself. “I already said he looks different now.”

“Yeah,” Debut says, handing her phone back. “But just the fact that’s he’s a redhead is kinda a turn-off, not gonna lie.”

“Um, excuse me?” Speak Now turns off her phone and looks at Debut with brutal judgement in her eyes. “Redheads are actually so pretty. You really don’t have taste.”

Fearless snorts. “Girl, you’re down bad.”

“I don’t like him anymore, I just said that people with red hair are pretty.”

“Yeah, not really what I meant, but nevermind,” Fearless mutters.

“I mean,” Debut starts. “It’s different with red-head girls, most of them are actually pretty beautiful… But the boys are just eww.”

I try to suppress a laugh. “Hey, stop being so mean to my brother, he didn’t do anything to you.”

“Sorry,” Debut says, running a hand through her curls. “He’s just not really my type.”

“You’re good,” I say.

“Sooo,” Fearless starts, a grin on her face, “you say the girls are prettier, huh?”

“I didn’t mean it like that! I’m not gay.” Debut’s cheeks are red.

Fearless laughs. “Yeah, sure…”

“I’m not,” the other girl protests. “That’s just weird.”

I look at Speak Now and her eyes find mine. They’re sparkling with amusement.

Idiot, she moths.

Luckily, Debut is too busy discussing with Fearless to notice.

_____________

- Speak Now -

“Are you awake?”

I blink. Red shifts next to me, propping herself up on her elbow. In the dark, I can barely make out the outlines of her face.

“Yeah,” I murmur, my voice sleepy.

“Sorry… did I wake you up?”

“I wasn’t really sleeping,” I say. “Why?”

“I don’t know…” She lies down next to me again. “I couldn’t sleep so I just wanted to know if you’re still awake.”

“Mhm…” I roll over, so that I lie on my side, and wrap my arm around her, burying my face in the crook of her neck. “You okay…?”

Red is quiet for a moment. “I… I think so, yeah.”

I lean back just a bit and look up at her. It takes a moment before my eyes adjust to the darkness. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” She smiles slightly. “I’m okay now.”

The little light, that floods into my room through the door crack, illuminates the soft edges of her face just enough for me to be able to see. She shifts a bit, and a strand of dark red hair falls into her face. I reach out to tuck it behind her ear.

“Are you?” she asks.

“Yeah,” I say. “I’m fine.”

“Good.” She pauses. “By the way… is your mom coming around for autumn break?”

I shake my head. “No… I think she wanted Emma and me to come to New York and visit her, but…”

Red reaches for my hand and squeezes it lightly. “Yeah?”

“I don’t think I want to go,” I say. It kind of feels like I’m betraying my mom by saying that, but honestly, it’s not my problem anymore.

“Why not?”

“I don’t know… I just feel like she doesn’t even care about me anymore, you know?” I pause, trying to read Red’s expression. Right now, it’s difficult to tell if she understands me. “Like, if she really wants to see us, then she should just get a flight here, right?”

Red hesitates only for a moment. “Yeah… Yeah, I think I get it.”

“It’s not like I don’t want to go to New York, or even visit her… Honestly, I think under different circumstances, I’d probably give everything just to be able to spend one day in the city. But at the same time… I just think it’s her responsibility to take the first step. Not ours.”

“We could go to New York, sometime,” Red whispers. “Like, just for fun. She wouldn’t even have to know that you’re there.”

“Mhm…” I shift closer to her, once again burying my face in the crook of her neck. Her skin is nicely warm. She lets go of my hand and instead wraps her arms around me, pulling me close. “You don’t have to go… You know that,” she mumbles into my hair.

“Yeah,” I murmur. “I just wish she would care more about us.”

“Mhm…” Red doesn’t even try to contradict me, doesn’t say anything like I’m sure she cares a lot, even if she doesn’t show it. Words that I have heard about a million times before – from friends, teachers, random people I didn’t even really know. Those words are just lies. Beautiful, useless, lies.

Red’s warm presence next to me, and the comfortable silence of my bedroom, is the only reply I get from her. And I love her for it.

I can feel myself slowly drifting off to sleep, when she suddenly speaks again, her voice soft, nearly just a whisper in the dark. “Your hair smells really good.”

A weirdly warm feeling spreads in my stomach.

“Thanks,” I murmur, feeling a small smile pull at the corners of my mouth.

Chapter Text

- Evermore -

The air is cold when I leave the building after my piano lesson on Wednesday afternoon. I pull my jacket tighter around myself. “Hey?” I ask, my eyes on Lover. She looks up from her phone, smiling at me. “Hey… I had to stay for a bit longer today, so I thought I’d wait for you, and we can take the same bus home?”

“Yeah, sure.” I brush my braid back over my shoulder and look around, subconsciously searching for a familiar head of dirty blond hair. I spot him over at the other end of the building, leaning against the wall.

Lover follows my gaze. “Who’s that?” she asks.

“No one,” I say and start to walk towards the bus stop. Unfortunately, the way there also leads past him.

“Isn’t…” she starts, “Isn’t he that guy you were talking to the other night? At that party?”

I shrug. “Yeah…? So what?”

“Oh, nothing,” Lover says, but she keeps glancing over at him. “I just thought… no, it’s nothing.”

“Kay.” I keep my eyes on the street in front of me. Still, I see out of the corner of my eye how Matt pushes himself off the wall and starts to make his way to us.

I stop, knowing that he’ll catch up anyway if I try to walk away.

“Hey,” he says, once he reaches us. Internally, I sigh. “Hi.”

He glances at Lover once, but then quickly looks back at me, smiling a tiny bit. “How are you?”

“I’m fine.”

“That’s nice.” He looks past me, shifting a little, almost as if he were uncomfortable. “Um… I was just wondering if I can maybe get your number?”

I hesitate. He’s seriously still thinking that he has any chance at all, even after all the times I just blocked him off? Not only the past two Wednesdays, when he insisted on walking me to the bus stop both times, but also several times during science class and almost every single time I ran into him in the corridors at school.

I sigh. “Okay, fine.”

He looks kind of relieved. “Thanks. You can just…” He gets out his phone and creates a new contact, then hands it to me. “Here.”

“Yeah.” I type in my phone number and put Still not your girlfriend. as the contact name. Then I hand his phone back to him. “I gotta go now.”

“Okay.” He gives me an almost shy smile. “I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah.” I glance over at Lover. “Come on”

Once we’re out of earshot, she glances back over her shoulder. “Do you like him?”

“Nope,” I say.

The look on her face makes me think that even she doesn’t believe me.

Reputation is sitting alone at the bus stop, scrolling through her phone. When she hears us approaching, she looks up.

“Hi?” I say.

She switches off her phone and gets up, slinging her backpack over one shoulder. “Hi.”

“What are you doing here?” I ask, raising an eyebrow at her.

“I’m just waiting for my mom to pick me up.” She glances over at Lover for the shortest of moments, a weird expression on her face, that I can’t quite identify. “Why?”

“I was just wondering,” I say.

I realize that, ever since we got here, Lover hasn’t said a word. Which is really untypical for her, considering that she usually always greets people, even if she doesn’t know them that well. And she does know Reputation. Kind of, at least.

I nudge her with my elbow. “Is everything okay…?”

“Yeah. Everything’s fine.” Her voice is strangely cool, almost like she’s trying to block me off.

But before I can investigate further, the bus pulls up. Lover starts to get on it, and I follow her, but turn around once to wave goodbye at Reputation.

“What the fuck?” I ask once I’ve sat down in the empty seat next to Lover.

She turns her head to look at me. “What?”

“Why are you ignoring her?”

“I’m not ignoring her.”

I scoff. “Yes, you are.”

Lover takes a moment to reply. “No… I’m just not trying to talk to her… That’s not the same thing.”

I lean back in my seat and look past her, out of the window, at the moving trees and buildings. “Are you mad at her? Because of last Friday?”

Lover shakes her head, but she doesn’t look at me. “No. I know that she was drunk.”

“Yeah…” I say. “But she still was kind of mean to you, so I get it if you’re mad.”

Lover stares out of the window, the expression on her face one that I can’t quite read. Then, after a moment she speaks again, her voice quiet. “Did she… ever say anything about me? Before… You know, before last Friday?”

“I… don’t know,” I lie. “Why are you asking?”

She shrugs. “Don’t know… I was just wondering.”

I’m almost entirely sure that there is something she’s hiding from me, but before I can ask about it, Lover turns her head ever so slightly and looks at me. “Does she really hate me that much?”

“What?” I ask, a bit confused. “She doesn’t hate you. Trust me, if she hated you, she’d probably act differently.”

She nods but doesn’t say anything more. I doubt that she’s telling me the whole truth, knowing that Lover usually doesn’t get mad at, or ignore, anyone, even if she has every right to do so. Really, it’s weird that she’s ignoring Reputation, when previously she was always trying to befriend her at any given occasion.

“I have to get off the bus now,” she says, as if I don’t already know exactly where she lives.

I get up to let her pass. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

She smiles at me shortly. “Yeah. See you.”

Once I’m back in my seat, I get out my phone and call Reputation’s number.

_____________

- Reputation -

Evermore is trying to call me. For the fifth time within less than ten minutes. I sigh. When will she finally accept the fact that I won’t pick up? I already know exactly why she’s calling anyway.

But I won’t talk to her about that. Not right now and not ever.

I get up and walk across the room to sit down at my piano, and start to play a few chords, just to stop again a moment later. My mind just seems to constantly wander back to last Friday, determined to remind me about that embarrassing message every two seconds or so.

I close my eyes for a moment and try to just breathe, try to clear my thoughts. It’s not like Lover saw that message anyway… hopefully.

I deleted it as soon as I woke up the next morning, anyway.

She was ignoring me throughout the entire one and a half hours of history class today, and later at the bus stop, too. (Or more like, she wasn’t really making any effort to talk to me or even just make eye contact, even though she usually likes to do that with almost anyone.) Which I’m choosing to believe is because I made fun of her when I was… kind of drunk. It probably doesn’t have anything to do with that message. Like, if she had seen it, she would’ve replied… right?

Whatever.

It’s not like I care.

I look down at the piano keys and play the same chords as earlier, but this time I also quietly sing to myself.

You should take it as a compliment that I got drunk and made fun of the way you talk

You should think about the consequence of your magnetic field being a little too strong

And I got a boyfriend, he’s older than us

I haven’t seen him in a couple of months

I go through phases when it comes to love

I’m nothing that you’d want

I sigh and slam the keyboard cover shut and put my head in my hands. Just sit there for a minute. Why am I being like this? Why can’t I just get over it already?

It’s not like I like Lover anyway… in any kind of way. So why is she stuck in my head? Why does she have to be so annoyingly gorgeous???

I try to shake that thought off, as I grab my phone and call my boyfriend’s number, holding the phone to my ear as I wait for him to pick up.

“Hey, Rep,” he answers after a moment.

“Hi… Are you busy right now?”

“No,” he says. “Why?”

“Good.” I tap my pen against the piano, trying to find the right words. “I needed to talk to you about something…”

_____________

- Evermore -

I hesitate for a moment, my hand hovering above the wooden door. Quiet music is playing from inside. It sounds kind of sad, just like most songs Folklore ever listens to.

I knock.

“Yeah?” she asks.

I quietly open the door and just stand there, unsure of what to do.

“Oh,” Folklore says. “I didn’t know it was you.”

“Yeah…” I start. “I… can I come in?”

She hesitates for a moment, but then nods, so I make my way inside, closing the door behind me, and sit down on her desk.

Folklore is sitting on her bed, already in her pajamas, her hair openly falling around her face in soft waves, her eyes focused on a thing she’s crocheting with cream-colored yarn.

“What are you making?” I ask, nodding my head at the thing.

She looks up from it for the tiniest of moments. “Oh, I’m just trying to make a cardigan.”

“Like the one Betty has?”

I can almost see how she’s putting up walls mentally, readying herself for any attack that might come from my side. It pains me. “Yeah,” she says finally, her voice quiet, eyes focused on the cardigan-in-making.

“Cool,” I say.

A small smile settles on her lips, but she still doesn’t look at me.

I know why.

I know we haven’t really talked to each other for about one and a half week, aside from the awkward conversations over dinner, that were needed to keep our parents from getting involved with our… whatever this is.

I know it’s my fault.

I know I should apologize.

But I don’t know how to do that.

We just sit there in silence, her crocheting her cardigan and me watching her do that, the only sound the soft music.

“I wanted…” I start after a moment.

She looks up, her eyes finally meeting mine. Almost hopefully. “Yeah?”

“I… I’m sorry.” My voice sounds strangely small. I take a deep breath and swallow my pride. It’s not like that matters anyway. Not when Folklore is mad at me, not when I made her sad and I ought to fix things as soon as possible. Not when it’s already taken me much longer than it should have to even take the first step. “For ditching you the other day. That was so mean of me and I… I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Folklore looks back down at the yarn in her hands. “Yeah… It’s alright.”

I shake my head. “No, it’s not. I’m so sorry, Folklore. Really. I… I was such a bad sister.”

She’s silent for a moment. Then, she asks quietly, “Can we just forget about it…?”

I hesitate. “Okay…”

She looks up at me, a small smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. “Thanks.”

I get up and walk over to her, sitting down next to her on the bed. “But I really am sorry. I just… need you to know that.” I wrap my arms around her, leaning my head against her shoulder.

“I know…” she murmurs and hugs me back. “It’s okay, Evermore.”

“If… If you still want to do the contest together, then we can do that. I’ll just tell Rep-“

“No,” Folklore says. “You’re not ditching her now. And I’ll be okay, I already kind of have a… beginning of a song. I just need to get the guitar part right. It’s kind of cursed, but I think it’ll probably work out… someday.”

“Are you sure?” I ask. “That you’re okay with doing this alone?”

She smiles at me. “I’m not alone, Evermore. I’ll just be alone up on the stage, but that’s okay.”

I smile back up at her. “Okay.”

“Do you wanna read together?” She asks.

“Yeah,” I say. “I’ll just go get changed first.”

“Hey,” I ask, looking over at Folklore. She looks up from her book, a questioning expression on her face. “Do you know if something happened between Lover and Rep? Else than that Rep made fun of her, I mean.”

Folklore shakes her head. “No… Why?”

I shrug. “Lover was just being a bit weird earlier.”

“Weird in what way?” she asks.

“Just…” I pause. “I mean, it was nothing bad, she was just kind of… ignoring Rep, if you even can call it that. None of them was making any effort to make a conversation, to be honest. But it just… seemed really out-of-character for Lover?” I sigh. “I don’t even know anymore. Maybe I’m just overanalyzing.”

Folklore shrugs. “Maybe.” She looks back down at the book she’s currently reading, her eyes roaming the page. “It does seem a bit odd for Lover, though,” she says.

“Mhm…” I glance down at my book and read the next sentence. Then I slam it shut and reach over to grab my phone from Folklore’s nightstand.

She looks over at me, her eyebrows scrunched together. “What are you doing?”

I unlock my phone. “I’m forcing them to talk.”

My sister doesn’t reply and when I glance over at her, she’s already deeply absorbed in her book again.

There are three new messages from an unknown number, which I know is Matt’s, because I already read them earlier. But I haven’t replied to him, yet.

He’ll have to wait.

For approximately two more hours, I think.

I open my Instagram DMs and create a new group chat.

___

taymerican queens

lonelywitch, mirrorballcat, misstaymericana17, reputaytionsnake13

lonelywitch created the group chat.  

lonelywitch: hey guys
lonelywitch: we should all hang out together again some time
lonelywitch: are you all free next weekend?

reputaytionsnake13: no.

reputaytinsnake13 left the group chat.

lonelywitch: bitch.

misstaymericana17: Idk I don’t think I’m free next weekend :(

lonelywitch added reputaytionsnake13 to the group chat.

lonelywitch: DON’T LEAVE AGAIN
lonelywitch: wait i’ll add 1989 too

lonelywitch added lostinwonderland to the group chat.

lonelywitch: 89 are u free next weekend?

lostinwonderland: Noooo I’m going to London :(

lonelywitch: oh right
lonelywitch: guys pls why are you all constantly busy

misstaymericana17: I’m not, I just can’t hang out next weekend

lonelywitch: yeah whatever
lonelywitch: we should all watch a movie together or something like that

misstaymericana17: Yeah, sounds great

lonelywitch: maybe sometime next week?
lonelywitch: @lostinwonderland can you just go on a strike and stay here

lostinwonderland: Lmaoo
lostinwonderland: I wish

lonelywitch: okay so how about next Friday?

misstaymericana17: That would probably work!! :)

lostinwonderland: I won’t be back from London by then
lostinwonderland: But have fun guys :)

lonelywitch: k
lonelywitch: i know folklore is free cause she’s literally sitting right next to me
lonelywitch: rep?

reputaytionsnake13: still no.

lonelywitch: no you can’t or no you don’t want to

reputationsnake13: I don’t want to.

lonelywitch: yes you do
lonelywitch: next friday it is
lonelywitch: we can hang out here if that’s fine with everyone

misstaymericana17: Okay!!
misstaymericana17: Still not sure if I’m free, but I’ll check with my mom later

lonelywitch: you are both obligated to come

Chapter Text

- 1989 -

The door opens with  a bang, and I practically jump in my seat, quickly shoving my phone under my book, thinking that my father has come by to check if I’m actually doing my schoolwork.

But when I turn around, it isn’t him I find standing in the doorway, but instead a girl around my age, her bleached hair cut to chin-length. She’s wearing skinny jeans and a black bomber jacket, paired with an orange top and sneakers in the same color. Somehow, she manages to pull the outfit off effortlessly.

I’m pretty sure that I would look ridiculous in a jacket like that, but she just looks… cool.

I wait for her to apologize or just leave again, because she clearly isn’t supposed to be here. Maybe she confused this room with another one.

But instead, she just grins at me, closes the door behind herself and then strides over to where I’m sitting. She sits down on the desk next to mine, her feet dangling in the air, and eyes me.

“Hi?” I say, taken aback by her sudden appearance.

“Hi,” she replies, then glances over at my English book and the notes that still lie openly in the desk. “What are you reading?” Her British accent is heavy, and somehow it just makes her even cooler than she already is.

Before I can answer the question, she hops down from the desk and snatches the book away from me. “You’re reading that shit?” She looks up and raises an eyebrow at me. “Seriously?”

“It’s for school!” I try to defend myself. “And anyway, it’s not even that bad.”

She shrugs and puts the book back down on my desk. “I guess I just don’t like books very much.”

“Yeah…”

We’re both silent for a moment, then I say, “Uh, sorry, but… who are you?” I feel like I should know. Like I should recognize her. She looks kind of familiar, but I honestly have no idea where I’ve seen her before.

“I’m Karma,” she says. “I think we met at that ‘party’ the other night, right?” She draws quotation marks in the air around the word party, rolling her eyes.

“Oh,” I say. “Yeah, right.” I vaguely remember being introduced to the daughter of one of my father’s business partners. I feel stupid for not remembering her right away.

In my defense, she looked different back then. She was wearing a fancy dress, and her hair was pinned back, a far more serious expression on her face, compared to now.

Nice to meet you, she’d said. Then I had been dragged away to say hello to more strangers I was supposed to get to know for when I would join my father’s business after I finished school. That was his idea about my future, anyway.

“Your name’s 1989, right?” Karma asks, pulling me out of my thoughts.

I nod. “Yeah.”

“So…” Karma’s eyes once again land on the stuff from school that is still lying openly on my desk. “Are you just gonna sit here all day and do boring schoolwork?”

“I… think so?” It sounds more like a question than an actual statement. “What else would I be doing?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Karma glances out of the window for just a second and then her eyes are back on mine, a somewhat mischievous expression on her face. “Something more fun. Wanna get out of here?”

“Shouldn’t you also be doing schoolwork…?” I ask, trying to dodge her question. Trying desperately to ignore the way my heart speeds up at the way she’s looking at me. Trying to ignore the things that my brain is now picturing as something more fun.

Karma shrugs. “Nah. I literally live here in London, and I got off from school early today.”

“Okay,” I say, fidgeting with some of my notes, avoiding looking her in the eyes. My cheeks feel a bit warm. “Yeah… It was really nice talking to you, but I  should really get back to studying now.”

Karma raises an eyebrow at me. “Do you really want to do that, though?”

“No… Not really,” I admit. All the reading is already tiring, and I’ve barely made it through the first two chapters. “But I still have to do it at some point, so…”

“Okay, sure.” Karma picks up my click-pen from the desk and turns it over in her hand, then looks up at me again. “But can’t we hang out now and then you can do that school stuff later?”

My first instinct is for some unexplainable reason to just say yes. To run off to wherever she wants to go. But the voices of reason in my head tell me that this is a bad idea. “I… don’t know,” I say instead.

“Oh, come on. I promise I’m not as boring as your schoolwork.”

I try to stifle my laugh. “Yeah, I wasn’t expecting anything else.”

She looks at me, an expectant expression on her face. “So…?”

“I…” I hesitate. “Please don’t take this as an offense or anything, but… I didn’t… come here to make friends.”

Amused, she raises an eyebrow at me. “You do realize that you don’t need to always have everything all planned out, right? Have you ever been to London before?”

“Yeah,” I say. “Mostly just in boring hotels, but I’ve also been to the city center before.”

“Kay.” Karma’s eyes wander to the window again and she just stands there for a moment, looking out over the city. “I can show you some nice places that you probably haven’t been to before, if you want to.”

“I don’t think I should leave the hotel,” I tell her. “My dad will probably just get mad at me.” I hate how childish I sound. Maybe Reputation was right with what she said at the party last week. Maybe I should really just try to loosen up and break the rules sometime. Even though she was drunk and mostly just ranting about Lover… she still had a point, I guess.

“Oh, come on,” Karma says. My click-pen disappears in her pocket and she starts to leave. When she’s already halfway out the door, she turns back once more, her green eyes flashing dangerously beautiful in the sunlight that streams in through the window. They almost look like gems. Like a long lost, cursed treasure. “I know some places.” She winks at me and then she’s gone.

Reluctantly, I get up and follow her, leaving my schoolwork behind on the desk.

Karma is waiting for me outside the hotel. She’s leaning against the building’s wall, scrolling through her phone. When I open the door and step outside, she looks up and breaks into a smile. “Oh, so you came after all?”

“Yeah.” I glance back over my shoulder, just to make sure that no one is watching us.

Karma chuckles. “Girl, relax. We’ll be back before anyone even knows you were gone.”

“If you say so.”

“Yep.” She takes off, down the block, and I follow her without thinking too much about it. “Let’s get out of this town.”

We take the subway to someplace I’ve never been before, sitting next to each other in the half full wagon. “So…” Karma starts, turning to me. “Did you have any fun at that ‘party’ the other night?”

“Well…” I grimace. “It was pretty boring.”

She laughs. “Yeah. I really don’t know how they ever got the idea to call those things parties. They’re anything but. Though…” she stares into the void for a moment, a somewhat distant expression on her face. “I guess sometimes they can be pretty fun. It’s like all these men think they’re so important for some reason.”

I scoff. “Yeah. They really do.”

She looks at me, raising an eyebrow. “I take it you don’t think of them as important?”

“No.” I shake my head. “I probably wouldn’t even be here if I had any choice. But my father is convinced that I’ll join his company pretty much as soon as I’m done with school.”

Karma nods slowly, a thoughtful expression on her face. “So… what do you want to do then?”

I hesitate, not sure if I should tell her or if she would just laugh at me like most other people that I ever dared to tell about my dreams. But the way she’s looking at me, with genuine interest in her eyes… There’s just something about her that’s making me want to forget about all these insecurities, that makes me want to break the rules, makes me feel a bit reckless.

In a good way… I think.

“I want to be a singer. Make music, write songs, go on tour… you know, just all that stuff.”

“Oh, that’s cool,” she says. “Have you written any songs so far?”

“Yeah… I actually have this whole blog where I post music sometimes. And other stuff too, of course, like photos and recipes and everything…” I drift off. “But, um, I could probably show some of the songs to you later… if you want to?”

“Sure,” she says, a smile on her lips. “I’d love to hear them. And you need to give me the link to that blog, please.”

I nod, then ask, “What about you? Like, what do you want to do…?”

“Like professionally?” She thinks for a moment. “I don’t really know. I mean after I finish school this year I’ll probably go to university but I haven’t really thought too much about what I’m gonna do after that. probably join my family’s business?” She laughs quietly. “God, now I’m just being boring as hell. But yeah, I might take over the whole thing someday. So, like, basically I’m gonna be the king.”

“I could be your queen,” I say, feeling a weird rush of confidence.

She looks at me, one eyebrow raised, her eyes sparkling mischievously, and a small grin on her lips. “Oh?”

I can feel the heat rush into my cheeks, already regretting my words. “Just forget I ever said that. Please.”

She shrugs and gets up. “We’ll see. Come on, we have to get off the subway here.”

The sun is warm on my bare arms, and it almost feels like it’s summer break again, even though it’s already October.

I walk on the sidewalk next to Karma, glancing at her every now and then. Of course, she notices, and turns her head ever so slightly, flashing me a smile. “Something wrong?”

I look away. “No. Sorry.”

“Kay.”

She stops in front of some small store, that I hadn’t even noticed before because it’s pretty much wedged in between two taller buildings, and opens the door, stepping inside. I follow her.

The inside of the shop is cramped with postcard racks, stacks of boxes, and shelves full of tourist souvenirs lining the walls.

“Hey, 89 come here.” Karma’s voice cuts through the silence inside the store. I turn my head to locate her, making my way through the labyrinth of racks filled with all kinds of souvenirs – postcards, keychains, small stuffed animals…

I find her standing by one of these racks, holding one of the many small necklaces in her hands. She looks up at me, her deep green eyes meeting mine. There’s the faintest hint of a few freckles on her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. “Aren’t these just cute?” she holds out her hand with the necklace in it for me to see.

It’s a delicate silver chain with a small paper airplane charm, and another charm that looks like one of these pink glittery round fake gems.

“It really is,” I agree.

“They have them in lots of different colors too,” Karma says, turning her gaze back to the rack which, as I notice only now, contains dozens of these same paper-airplane necklaces.

She spins it a bit, her eyes roaming the rows of necklaces. Then she stops, taking one of them off the rack, and shows it to me. “This would look so cute on you. The color kind of reminds me of your eyes.”

The necklace she’s holding has a light blue gem, which, indeed, comes very close to the color of my eyes. I try to ignore the way my heart speeds up at her words. It’s not that special that she knows my eye color. She probably just noticed while we were talking earlier – there’s absolutely no reason for me to get excited about the fact that she memorized that little detail.

“You know what?” she asks, a crooked smile on her lips as she looks up at me, her eyes sparkling in the flickering light of the ceiling lamps. “We should get matching ones. Kind of like those friendship necklaces, you know?”

“Oh…” I blink. “Yeah, sure.” My heart flutters weirdly inside my chest and I smile at her. I kind of like the way she makes me so nervous without even trying to.

She gives me a strange look, but her smile doesn’t drop. “You know, you’re a bit weird sometimes. No offense, though. It’s kind of cute, actually.”

Without waiting for an answer from me, she turns back to the rack, spinning it again, searching through the rows of necklaces. “Damn. Don’t they have any orange ones?”

My mind is a bit fuzzy, but I try my best to concentrate on the task at hand and help her search through the seemingly never-ending rows of necklaces, small paper airplane charms and gems.

“Here, found one,” I say, fishing out a necklace with an orange gem, that was hidden behind a stack of ones with green gems.

“Aww, thanks.” She flashes me a smile when I hand her the necklace. “You’re my hero.”

I return her smile. “No problem.”

“Which color did you want?”

“I… think I’ll just go with the blue one,” I reply, glancing down at the necklace in my hands.

“Okay.” She reaches out and takes it from me, starting to make her way to the checkout counter.

“I can pay for myself,” I say, hurrying after her. She shakes her head putting both necklaces on the counter. “Nope. This is on me.”

“But-“ I start to protest, but she shushes me with one look.

“You can pay next time.”

Next time? Like, she wants to hang out with me again after this?

“We’ll take that and two ice creams,” Karma tells the guy behind the counter, flashing him a polite smile. It looks nothing like the Karma I’ve gotten to know in the past couple hours.

“That’s twenty-two, ninety-six,” he says.

Karma gets out her wallet to pay, while he gets our ice cream ready, and when she puts the money on the counter the sleeve of her jacket shifts back just a bit, revealing a black beaded bracelet. There’s a single white letter pearl on it, but before I can see what it says, the sleeve is already back in place, covering the bracelet again, and she’s taking the ice cream cones from the guy, handing one to me before she snatches the necklaces from the counter and makes her way back to the door, with me following closely behind her.

Outside, Karma stops and turns around to look at me. “Hey,” she asks, a smile on her face. “Could you help me put my necklace on?”

“Yeah, of course,” I say, taking the small package from her and handing her my ice-cream to hold. I unpack the necklace and stand behind her, then put the delicate chain around her neck before securing the clasp again.

“Thanks,” she says, turning around to me. I give her a smile in return, accepting the two ice-cream cones she hands me to get her hands free before she steps behind me to put my necklace around my neck. I do my best to stay still as she fumbles with the clasp, her fingers gently brushing the skin of the nape of my neck.

Feeling my cheeks heat ever so slightly, I look down at the ice cream in my hands. It’s already partially starting to melt.

This is perfectly normal, right? People get friendship necklaces and stuff all the time, don’t they? And it doesn’t matter that we’re doing it even though we’ve only known each other for less than twenty-four hours. And she’s definitely not taking too long to fasten the clasp… That’s just me imagining things.

Karma steps back, her hands dropping from my neck, my skin suddenly feeling a little too cold without her touch there, even though the sun is still shining and it’s actually quite warm.

I hand her her ice cream cone and smile. “Thanks.”

Karma’s eyes drop to the charms of my necklace for a moment and then come back up to meet mine, a smile pulling at the corner of her mouth. “Told you this would look good with your eyes.”

Heat rushes into my cheeks, but before I get any chance to respond, she adds, “We can go over there,” with a nod of her head. I look in the direction, but all I can see is more houses on both sides of the street, and a few parking lots.

She sets off down the street, licking her cone once to stop the melting ice-cream from dripping, her free hand sliding into mine, interlocking our fingers. I try my best to ignore the way it makes my heart beat faster.

The there Karma was talking about turns out to be not exactly one place but rather just this part of the suburbs in general. We saunter down the street, still holding hands, both of us eating our ice creams, a silence, that isn’t really comfortable, but definitely not awkward either, stretching between us.

Karma stops in the middle of a bridge, dropping my hand to get out her phone instead, her ice-cream cone still in her other hand. I raise my eyebrow at her. “What are you doing?”

“Just taking a picture.” She grins at me, her eyes sparkling in the afternoon sunlight. “You know, you’re gonna need some photos for that blog of yours if you’re staying in London for two weeks.”

“Okay, fine,” I say, posing with a peace sign, my face right next to hers as I look at the phone camera, smiling. As soon as she’s snapped a selfie, I return to eating my ice cream.

“Hey, 89, smile,” Karma says, looking at me from behind her phone, and reaches forward to push my sunglasses – which were sitting on the top of my head – down onto my nose.

“What the-“ I start, unable to suppress a small grin, but she shushes me and takes another picture. I reach out to cover the camera but she turns away just in time, both of us giggling now.

“Come on,” she complains, a grin playing around her lips, “just let me take a photo. You’re really cute.”

“You already took two!” I remind her, ignoring that last part… for the moment.

She shrugs, grinning up at me. “Can’t have enough now, can I?”

I roll my eyes at her, but can nonetheless feel the heat rise into my cheeks. Still, I’m not able to get that stupid treacherous grin off my face. “Fine. If you insist.”

By the time we’ve finished our ice creams, Karma’s phone’s gallery is filled with dozens of goofy photos of the two of us – some of them selfies of us both, some others ones we took of each other, a grin on our faces in each of them.

She looks up from her phone, turning the screen around for me to see. “You look especially cute in this one, see?”

I shrug. “Maybe? I don’t know.”

She eyes me for a moment, then nods. “Yeah. You definitely do. This-“ she nods at her phone- “still doesn’t do the real-life version of you any justice though.”

Her words and the way she looks at me make my heart flutter.

Without taking her eyes off of mine, Karma tucks her phone away, and reaches out, her hand gently ruffling through my curls. “You’re literally so cute.” She smiles at me.

“Shut up,” I say, my cheeks once again feeling a bit too warm.

“Oh, maybe I will,” she says, her eyes dropping down to my lips, staying there just a beat too long for it to be able to pass as an unintentional slip. My heartbeat quickens as her eyes come back up to meet mine, and I can feel myself get lost in the deep green of them.

She leans forward and presses her lips to mine in a short kiss.

“Is that okay?” she asks, pulling back just enough to look at me.

“Yeah,” I breathe. My heart is beating way too fast.

She smiles “Good.”

The next moment, her mouth is back on mine again, her eyes fluttering shut, and she kisses me in a way that I know is gonna screw me up forever.

Chapter Text

- Lover -

“Just text me when you know what time I should come and pick you up again, okay?”

I nod and start to get out of the car. “Yeah, I will. Thanks for giving me a ride.”

“Of course, sweetheart.” My mom smiles at me. “Have fun.”

“Thanks!” I shut the car door close and all but run up the stairs to Folklore and Evermore’s house, then ring the doorbell.

After only a moment, Folklore opens the door, smiling at me. “Hi, Lover.”

“Hey,” I say, handing her the bowl full of cupcakes that I made yesterday after school. “Sorry I’m a bit late, I had to help my mom out with something.”

“It’s alright,” she reassures me as I follow her into the living room.

Evermore and Reputation are already there, sitting on the couch, talking. When we enter the room, they both look up and for a moment Reputation’s eyes meet mine. I can’t read the expression on her face.

Your eyes are so pretty.

Her words from that Friday two weeks ago echo in my mind. The words she texted me in the middle of the night when she was drunk and probably not thinking her actions through.

The message was gone when I checked the next morning.

I look away, determined to ignore her even now. She didn’t mean it, I know that. And it’s fine, really. I don’t care if she thinks my eyes are pretty or not and it’s not like that would change anything anyway.

“Finally,” Evermore says, looking at me. Then she turns to Reputation. “Rep, scoot over here so Lover can sit on the couch too.”

“I don’t-“ Reputation starts, but then just sighs and moves closer to Evermore, making some space for me.

I hesitate for a moment, running through my options inside my head. I can’t really leave now, can I?

So I sit down next to her, trying to make myself small and leave as much space between us as the couch allows.

Folklore puts down the bowl with my cupcakes on the coffee table where several other bowls filled with mini pizzas, cookies, chips and candy already are sitting. Then she grabs the remote and sits down in the armchair to my left, putting on the movie we agreed to watch together.

I take one of the mini pizzas and try to concentrate on the intro of said movie, but it’s hard to do that when Reputation is sitting right next to me and we haven’t talked in two weeks and she probably hates me even more now and for some reason I really care about what she thinks of me, even though I have literally no reason for that.

It shouldn’t matter, right? I should be able to just shake it off and move on, to ignore the things she said to me when she was drunk, forget the way it hurt because she’s really just a stranger to me. I know nothing about her. At all.

But somehow, since that time Evermore introduced me to her “new friend, Reputation” on her fourteenth birthday party, Reputation has been constantly present in my life.

I guess I just thought that if Evermore liked her she had to be nice. I guess I thought that if they were friends, maybe she could become my friend too. I guess I thought that maybe if I tried hard enough, I could get her to like me. But I was wrong.

Your eyes are so pretty.

I close my eyes for a moment and try to get the image of that message out of my mind, try to erase the words.

When I woke up on Saturday morning, tired and still wishing that I had just said no to that whole going-to-a-party-with-Evermore-and-her-friends thing in the first place, and checked my phone, finally gathering the courage to acknowledge Reputation’s message, to open our chat instead of just reading the notification over and over again, to maybe even reply… it had been gone.

At first, I thought that maybe it had all been a dream, but the screenshot I’d taken the night before was still there. (I can’t even remember why I took a screenshot in the first place, now it just seems stupid.)

She’d deleted the message.

Not even sent a sorry.

I look back at the TV screen, determined to not think about that stupid message or anything else that happened that night for one more second. Or how I thought we were well on our way to becoming friends when she agreed to working together with me for our history class project. How she seemed to finally act normal around me when we hung out at the library after school. How she gave me a ride home. The way she smiled at me for the shortest moment.

But I don’t need her to like me.

Really, I don’t.

_____________

- Reputation -

It’s dark outside, now, and the room is lit only by the TV screen and the dim light of a lamp next to Folklore’s armchair – she’s been crocheting something out of cream-colored yarn for the entire time since we started watching the movie about an hour ago.

For some reason, Lover’s presence right next to me is so unnerving to me. I am highly aware of the fact that she keeps as much distance to me as possible, which is about two inches of air between us. She’s probably still mad at me because of the things I said about her at that party two weeks ago.

She hasn’t talked to me ever since.

My eyes betray me, finding their way to her. She’s sitting with her knees pulled up to her body, watching the movie with a distant expression on her face, like she’s completely lost in that fictional world. A strand of hair is falling into her face, making me want to-

Nevermind.

I turn my gaze back on the screen, trying to focus on the movie. Somehow that seems impossible. My thoughts always go back to her.

It’s not like we used to talk to each other before that stupid party either – at least not on a regular basis. But she always said hi to me at school, or wherever else we ran into each other. And it’s not like I miss talking to her – God, I don’t even like her. Like, at all. But history class feels too quiet when she’s sitting right next to me, ignoring me for the entire lesson, not sparing me even just one glance.

Next to me, Lover shifts slightly, changing her position. For the shortest of moments, her hand brushes against mine, sending an electric shockwave through my body.

Faster than I can even react, she pulls her hand away again – so fast I almost would’ve thought she got burned. “Sorry,” she mutters under her breath.

I turn my head to look at her, trying to ignore the way my heart beats stupidly fast inside my chest. Her eyes are focused on the TV screen, but when she realizes that I’m watching her, she glances over at me. The light from the TV is reflected in her eyes, her features somehow looking even softer in the dark than they usually do.

I turn my eyes back on the TV screen without saying anything, keeping my expression cold. I don’t want to have to think about her stupid eyes for even just one more second.

I don’t. even. fucking. like her.

“Do you guys want to play a game or something?” Evermore asks once the movie is over.

“Um,” Lover hesitates, “I don’t know… sure?”

“Cool.” Evermore looks up from her phone, her eyes on me. “You in?”

“I… Actually, I have to go now. My mom’s coming to pick me up in like five minutes.” I leave out the part about how I texted her half an hour ago, asking her to pick me up as soon as the movie would be over.

Evermore rolls her eyes. “Why do you always ghost us? Like, literally always.” Her phone buzzes in her hand and she looks down at it, not even waiting for an answer from me. She types something into her phone, then waits for a moment before she types again.

“Who are you texting?” Lover asks. She’s still keeping a couple inches distance to me.

“No one,” Evermore replies, her eyes still on her phone. It’s an obvious lie. She types out one more message, then puts her phone away, looking at me.

“Are you free tomorrow? And before you say no – because I know you would – just let me remind you that we still have to write our song for that contest.”

“Don’t you have like half a year left to do that?” Folklore asks without looking up from the thing she’s crocheting.

“Well, yes,” Evermore says, “but that’s beside the point.” She raises an eyebrow at me, questioningly. “So?”

“Yeah, sure,” I say.

She actually looks surprised for a moment but then quickly covers it up with a nonchalant expression. “Good. I’ll come over to yours at two PM.”

“Okay.”

My phone buzzes and I check it to see a new text message from my mom. “I’m gonna go now,” I tell the others and get up, relieved that I can finally get away from Lover.

Evermore follows me into the hallway, watching as I put on my shoes and slip into my jacket. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah.”

She nods. “Okay. Bye, then.”

“Bye.”

_____________

- Lover -

“Did something happen?” Folklore asks, looking up from the cardigan she’s crocheting.

I start to gather up the bowls and plates from the coffee table. “No… why?”

She shrugs. “I just thought you were really quiet. You and Reputation, I mean. So I thought maybe you had a fight or something…?”

I shake my head, forcing a smile. “No, everything’s fine.”

Your eyes are so pretty.

“Okay.” Folklore looks at me for a moment, a somewhat weird expression on her face. “If you ever need to talk about it, I’m here for you.”

“Thanks, Folklore, really,” I say. “But everything is alright. We’ve just never really gotten along that well.”

She just nods.

“I’m back!” Evermore exclaims, entering the room from the hallway.

She takes the heap of bowls and plates from me. “Thanks, Lover.”

“Of course,” I say. “You’re welcome.” My eyes search the room for more things we need to clean up, when a tote bag slung over the back of a chair catches my eye. It’s dark gray, with a black snake winding itself over most of the front. “Isn’t that…?”

Evermore follows my gaze, sighing when she catches sight of the bag. “Reputation’s. Yep.”

“Is she still around here somewhere?” I ask.

Evermore shrugs. “I don’t know. I mean if you run outside right now, you might be able to give it to her before she leaves.”

I hesitate for a moment. A voice inside my head tells me to just fuck it. To pretend like I never even saw that stupid tote bag in the first place. But it’s kind of hard to do that with Evermore and Folklore both watching me, waiting. And besides it would be mean.

Sighing, I reach for the tote bag. “Okay, fine.” I do my best to ignore the smug look on Evermore’s face when I walk into the hallway, slipping on my Nikes as fast as I can.

Your eyes are so pretty.

The voice inside my head is mocking me now, I can hear it clearly. I ignore it as good as I can and open the door, running out into the pouring rain, Reputation’s tote bag in my hands.

A few houses away, I spot her figure, walking on the sidewalk, heading for a car that is parked down the street.

“Reputation!” I call. “Wait!”

She whirls around at the sound of her name, her eyes widening for a split second when she catches sight of me.

I stop right in front of her, holding out the tote bag. “You forgot this.”

“Oh.” Her eyes drop down to the bag in my hands, and she takes it, her fingers brushing mine for the shortest moment. I try to play it cool, but I’m pretty sure I’m blushing nonetheless.

She looks up at me, her face wet from the rain, illuminated only by the streetlights.

“Thanks,” she says, her eyes unmoving.

“Yeah, of course.” I smile at her. I don’t really know why I’m smiling now, when just a few minutes ago I was mad as hell at her. She just has that effect on me. “I’ll see you at school?”

She just nods.

For a moment I think that maybe I should hug her, maybe I should just forget about everything that happened, all the reasons to why I’m still pretty sure that she hates me. I start to move in but then I change my mind, covering the motion up by tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. My eyes find their way to the car that is still parked just a few houses away, the headlights on. “Um, you should probably get going. I think your mom’s waiting.”

She blinks. “Yeah. Yeah, of course.”

With that, she turns around and heads off, leaving me alone in the rain. She didn’t return my smile. She didn’t say anything to me for the whole night, up until now.

For a moment, I just stand there on the sidewalk, heavy raindrops falling down on me, drenching my hair and clothes wet, watching as Reputation gets in the car. I can almost imagine her footprints on the sidewalk where she stood just moments before, looking at me with that closed off expression, like she didn’t care about anything at all.

I don’t know what that all is about, and I really want to say that I don’t care. But that would probably be a lie.

Chapter Text

- Evermore -

The next day I sit on the bus to Reputation’s, blasting Dorothea’s music through my headphones, and watch the trees and houses of our city roll by outside the window, when my phone buzzes in my pocket.

lostinwonderland: Heyyy how are you? :)

Right. 1989 is still in London. I’m honestly surprised by how little I’ve heard from her in the past week. After she constantly complained about having to go, I kind of expected to get at least one major shitstorm – about her dad, business meetings, or whatever – in my DMs every day.

lonelywitch: i’m ok
lonelywitch: how’s london so far?

lostinwonderland: It’s actually pretty fun

What? I frown at my phone.

lonelywitch: what

lostinwonderland: Yeah right
lostinwonderland: I wasn’t expecting it to be Lol

I watch the three dots jump up and down, vanishing and then appearing again as 1989 types what must be a really long message. A quick glance out the window tells me that I’m almost there.

lonelywitch: i’m gonna meet up with rep now
lonelywitch: bye

The three dots disappear and for a moment nothing happens. Then she sends a new message.

lostinwonderland: Ok

I wait for the small dots to reappear, for her to finish whatever essay-length message she was going to send me, but they don’t. Then I see that she’s offline. Ok? That’s it?

With a shrug I switch off my phone and get off the bus at the next stop.

“Maybe something like this?” Reputation asks, plucking the strings of her guitar, playing a few chords before she puts the guitar down again. “We’re not getting anywhere with this, are we?”

“Nope.” I look up from the notebook in which I’ve been scribbling down our ideas for lyrics, chords, melodies – just pretty much everything you need for a song in general – for the past two hours. “I’m not sure we’ll ever get anything done, to be honest.”

Reputation shrugs. “I guess maybe not.”

“Hey,” I say, putting down my pen, and look at her. “Did you and Lover have a fight or something?”

She tenses for a moment, then picks up her guitar again and plays one string at a time, not meeting my eyes. “No. Why?”

“I don’t know. You’re just acting weird around each other, I guess.”

“Yeah. You do know that we’ve never been friends, right?” She abruptly stops playing the guitar and swears under her breath, looking around the room for a moment. “My fingers hurt. Did you see my guitar picks anywhere?”

“Nope. Don’t you always keep them in your drawer?” I ask, deciding to ignore the not so subtle change in topic. She’ll never talk to me about Lover anyway.

“Well yeah, but they’re not there,” she says.

“Okay, well, maybe they’re somewhere here.” I start to look through all the stuff on her desk that I pushed aside earlier to make room for my sketchbook – mostly notes and schoolbooks.

“Don’t-“ she starts, but then just heaves a defeated sigh.

After a moment of searching, I throw one of the guitar picks at her. “Ha. See, I’m always right.”

She rolls her eyes and continues to play approximately the same chords as earlier, changing it up only a bit. “Sure. Now stop looking through my stuff.”

I turn back to the desk, intending to put the stuff aside again, when a few words on a piece of paper catch my eyes. You should take it as a compliment that I got drunk and made fun of the way you talk. I pick the paper up and start to read the next line, furrowing my eyebrows.

“What the fuck is this?”

“Hm?” Reputation is still playing her guitar, not even sparing me a single glance, a certain confusion in her voice. “What’s what?”

“This,” I say, clearing my voice before I start to read the next line out loud. “And I’ve got a boyfriend, he’s older than-“

The music stops abruptly. “Give that back.”

I look up at Reputation. She’s glaring at me, her perfectly drawn eyeliner making her look even more intimidating than she already is anyway.

She starts to get up, holding out her hand. “Evermore. Give that back right now.” I might be mistaken, but I think I can see a faint blush in her cheeks.

I raise an eyebrow at her, starting to feel a grin pull at the corners of my mouth. “You can’t just write some sappy love song about my cousin and leave it lying around here, and then expect me not to find it and tease you about it.”

Reputation stops, just standing next to her bed, and stares at me. There’s definitely the ghost of a blush on her face now. “What?”

After a moment, she seems to have caught herself again. “It’s not about your cousin, what the fuck.”

I just raise one eyebrow at her and then look down at the paper in my hand, starting to read the first line from it. “You should take it as a compliment that I got drunk and made fun of the way you talk? You sure that’s not about her? How many people do you make fun of when you accidentally get too drunk at parties?”

“It’s not about her.” She insists, glaring at me. “Now give it back.” Before I can react, she’s already snatched the paper away from me and sits back down on her bed, still glaring at me.

“Hey,” I protest. “Not fair. But can you please play that song for me? I want to know what it sounds like.”

“Forget it.”

I sigh. “Oh, come on.”

She just glares at me.

“Okay, fine,” I say, getting out my phone. “I guess then I’ll just send all the stuff I managed to read before you took that paper away from me into our group chat, so everyone can see. If you prefer that option.”

“You won’t.”

“Oh, yes, I will.” I look up at her. “Unless you changed your mind?”

She just silently glares at me for a moment, then sighs and picks up her guitar, starting to play the song.

“God, Rep” I say, once she’s done. “Since when are you writing sad shit like that? Last time I checked, that was Folklore’s job.

“It’s not that sad,” Reputation tries to defend herself.

“Um…” I look at her, raising one eyebrow. “I go through phases when it comes to love, I’m nothing that you want? That is fucking sad.”

Reputation shrugs. “Whatever. It just sounds sad on the guitar, that’s all.”

“Then… don’t play it on the guitar?” I say.

“Yeah, I wrote it on the piano,” she starts, “but as you can see, I don’t have a piano in my room, so.”

“I don’t think it sounds any happier on the piano, to be honest,” I murmur.

She just ignores me.

With Reputation, most of the time it’s pretty hard to tell if she’s mad at me or if she’s just being somewhat of a bitch in general, but I’m pretty sure she is mad now.

“But it’s good to see that you actually can write songs like that, too,” I say, picking my pen up again. “Maybe we can really make this work, after all.”

_____________

- Folklore -

“I’m gonna go and try to get my math homework done before our lesson starts,” Lover says, grabbing her tray off the table, and gets up. Before either of us can object, she’s already gone.

Evermore rolls her eyes, taking a sip of her orange juice. “This whole thing is seriously starting to get weird.”

I open my mouth to ask her what thing she means, but before I can, Reputation sits down at our table. Oh. So that’s why Lover left.

“I’m also gonna go if that’s okay with you,” I say, looking at Evermore. She just shrugs, so I get up and leave my dirty dishes on the tray trolley, before I exit the cafeteria.

I walk over to the other end of the building, where our lockers are located, but Lover isn’t there – she probably already found herself a quiet place to study.

I get my math books and some pencils and then start to make my way to the mathematics classroom. I’m just about to round a corner when I stop. A quiet piano melody fills the air, so quiet I almost wouldn’t have noticed it at first. That alone is nothing special, of course. As far as I know, there’s some rooms with pianos, guitars, drums and stuff somewhere in our school. I’ve never been there before, though – it’s a place where mainly the theatre kids hang out, although I’m pretty sure Speak Now and Red also are there during breaks, sometimes.

What really catches my attention is, that the melody seems to perfectly go along with the lyrics I wrote for my song. I knew you, dancing in your Levi’s, drunk under a street light, I.

I can hear it clearly inside my head. It fits the song perfectly.

I hesitate for only a moment before I turn around and follow the music, like an invisible string, trying my best to figure out where it’s coming from. My heart beats fast and I can’t stop the voices in my head from shouting at me, What the fuck are you doing?

I don’t know. I do my best to ignore them. My feet just keep walking, carrying me toward the music until I find myself in a corridor I’ve never been to before, the music now much clearer, coming out of one of the rooms. I stop, just staring at the door, unsure of what I should do.

“You can go in, you know?”

I jump at the sound of a voice and turn around to find two girls sitting on a windowsill, one of them holding a notebook which she is currently writing something down in with a fountain pen. The other girl is looking at me, her eyes unnaturally dark, an unreadable expression on her face. She has one knee pulled up against her body, and her brown hair is falling around her face in soft waves.

“I… Yeah, thanks,” I say, reaching for the doorhandle. I don’t really have a choice now, do I? Unless just turning around and bolting would be a socially acceptable option.

“Anthy,” one of the girls says behind me – the blonde one, I think, “you know you don’t have to-“

I open the door and slip inside, closing it again behind me. I don’t hear the rest of her words.

Sitting at the piano, with his back to me, is a boy. He keeps playing that same melody, either not having noticed me or not bothering my presence behind him.

“What are you doing here?” he asks after a moment, an odd undertone to his voice, that I can’t quite identify.

“I…” I start, trying to figure out how to explain the situation to him. What the fuck was I thinking just walking in here?

He finally turns around, his eyes widening when he sees me. “Oh, sorry. I thought you were someone else.”

Someone else? “It’s okay,” I say, forcing a smile. “I’m sorry for… just walking in on you.” Was he waiting for someone?

He smiles, shaking his head. “No, it’s alright. Why are you here, though?”

“I… heard you play the piano,” I start, “and I really liked that melody you were playing so… I guess I wanted to ask what song it’s from?”

He runs a hand through his hair, leaving it even messier than it was before. “Oh, um… It’s just a piece I wrote, nothing too good.” An embarrassed smile pulls at the corners of his mouth. “Thank you, though.”

I stare at him. “You… wrote that? By yourself?”

He shrugs. “Yeah.”

“That’s cool,” I tell him. “It’s really beautiful.” Realizing something, I add, “Are you going to participate in that song contest?”

He shakes his head. “No, I don’t think so… Are you?”

“Yeah,” I say.

“Do you already have a song…?”

“Kind of.” I hesitate for a moment, not sure how far I should go with this. “I, um, have some lyrics, but I can’t seem to come up with the instrumental part.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure something out,” he says, smiling at me. “You still have plenty of time, too.”

“Thanks…” I hesitate. “You know, that melody you were playing kind of…”

“What?” he asks, his eyes on me.

I shrug. “No, it’s nothing, I just… Sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you.” I reach for the doorhandle behind me. Why am I here? Why am I talking to this random boy I just met when most of the time I’m struggling to say more than just one sentence to people I’ve known for years?

“You’re not bothering me,” he says. Then, a thoughtful expression on his face, he asks, “What were you going to say? About the melody…?”

“Just…” I hug my books closer. “That I thought… it kind of seemed to fit with the lyrics I had written. Not all of it, obviously, but a part… Yeah.” I shrug. My cheeks feel warm. I can’t decide if I want to run or keep talking to him.

“I could write it down for you,” he offers, “if you want to use it for your song.”

“Um… you don’t have to do that.” I force a smile.

“It’s no problem, really,” he says. “By the way, what’s your name?”

“Folklore,” I say.

He smiles, grabbing a piece of paper and a pen. “Okay. I’m Joe.”

_____________

- Lover -

“Hey.” Evermore sits down next to me in the grass, staring straight ahead, out over the football field.

“Hi,” I say.

She turns to look at me. “Already finished your math homework?”

“Yeah.” I twirl a blade of grass between my fingers. “It was pretty easy.” I only had two questions left to do.

“Cool.” She blows a strand of hair out of her face and just keeps looking at me, like she’s expecting me to tell her something. I know what this is about. She probably wants to know why I bolted as soon as I saw Reputation in the cafeteria, earlier. Because I felt like an idiot. Because my brain kept replaying all the embarrassing things  did, trying to be her friend. Like running out in the pouring rain just to give her her tote bag after I ignored her for the entire night. She really must think I’m a weirdo by now.

“What?” I ask after a moment, when Evermore still hasn’t said anything.

She sighs. “What the fuck happened with you and Rep?”

“What do you mean…?”

She rolls her eyes. “C’mon Lover. I’m not stupid. You guys have been avoiding each other ever since that party two weeks ago and neither of you seems to be willing to talk about it. I mean, I get it that you’re not the best of friends or whatever and really you don’t have to get along, but this is getting ridiculous.”

I say nothing.

“Are you still mad at her?” Evermore asks.

“I’m not mad.” I watch a group of students passing by on the path downhill. “I just… I don’t know. I’m pretty sure Reputation actually hates me.”

Evermore doesn’t say anything for a while. Which is very unusual for her, considering that she’s one of the most talkative people I know.

I turn my head toward her. She’s watching me, a weird expression on her face. “Why the fuck would you think that?”

“I… don’t know,” I say. But I do know, don’t I? “She’s just always acting weird around me, like she doesn’t want to talk to me and she gets annoyed all the time and avoids me and then sometimes she makes fun of me, so…” I drift off, not sure what more I’m supposed to say. It’s pretty obvious that Reputation hates me, right?

Okay, maybe hate is too strong of a word, but she definitely dislikes me a lot.

Evermore is still looking at me with that weird expression. “You… really still think she hates you?”

I shrug. “Yeah, I guess?”

For a moment she looks like she wants to punch me. Then she just grins, shaking her head. “God, Lover, I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again – Rep doesn’t hate you. She’s literally writing sad love songs about you in secret. I swear to God… you two are never going to get your shit together, are you?”

My heart is beating way too fast at her words. “She’s not writing love songs about me,” I say.

Evermore rolls her eyes at me. “Yes, she is. I literally saw it. With my own eyes.”

“You’re lying,” I say, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks. She’s probably just trying to fool me. It wouldn’t be the first time.

She shrugs. “Okay, fine. Don’t believe me then. But she doesn’t hate you, okay?”

With that, she gets up and leaves me alone again.

She’s literally writing sad love songs about you in secret. It doesn't make any sense. Why would anyone write love songs about me, out of all people? Why would Reputation do that? Your eyes are so pretty. I push the thought away. Evermore was just messing with me.

But if Evermore insists that Reputation doesn’t hate me… Maybe at least that part is true.

Maybe I should try to give her another chance.

_____________

- Folklore -

When I step out into the corridor again, The two girls from earlier are gone, the only trace of them a ripped-out piece of paper on the floor, reading the same words over and over. I look at it for a moment, frowning before I head off to class.

After I sit down next to Lover at our shared table, I slip the paper on which Joe has written down the chords for me into my math book and try my best to concentrate on the lesson at hand. But all I can think about are the seven words on that ripped-out paper on the floor, written down in cursive, elegant handwriting, repeating themselves over and over again.

I love you, it’s ruining my life.

Chapter Text

- Reputation -

I get to the history classroom less than two minutes before the lesson starts. Lover is already sitting at our table and doodling something in her notebook. She doesn’t look up when I sit down next to her. Maybe she’s still ignoring me.

I try to concentrate on what the teacher is saying, but Lover keeps glancing over at me every few minutes when she thinks I won’t notice, and I can’t help but wonder if she knows about the song. As far as I know, Evermore could’ve run to her first chance she got and recited half of the lyrics without ever letting me know about it. Which is so stupid, really, because that song was most definitely not about Lover. And it doesn’t matter that Evermore thinks it is.

I take a few notes and then glance over at the clock on the wall. Great. I still have to survive another forty minutes in here.

Her shoulder brushes against mine and I’m immediately thrown back to last Friday, when she accidentally touched my hand. And when she ran outside just to give me my tote bag, and how I thought for a moment that she was going to hug me but then she didn’t, and how cute she looked in the dark with her hair all wet from the rain and-

God, why can’t I just get her out of my mind?

Lover is scribbling in her notebook and when I sneak a look at it, I see that it’s mostly cats and small hearts, some of them with an arrow through them. And four lines of words that seem to be lyrics from a song I don’t think I know. But we figured you out / we all know now / we all got crowns / you need to calm down.

As soon as our teacher ends the lesson, I grab my pens and my notepad and stuff them into my bag, desperate to get out of here as soon as possible. I start to get up, but before I can, someone taps my arm and I turn around, finding myself face to face with Lover.

“Hey, um,” she starts, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Like she’s nervous. “Are you free today…?”

Simply the idea of having to spend another afternoon alone with Lover makes me want to run away. Maybe it’s because I can’t seem to breathe when I’m around her, or maybe it’s because I’m still not sure whether she likes me or hates me and I don’t know what to do about it. Or maybe it’s because I always talk myself out of things like this and barely ever hang out with anyone these days. Not since….

“It’s okay if not,” Lover says, snapping me out of my thoughts. “I was just thinking that… maybe we could finish our project. Since we have to turn it in next week.” She looks down at the table, her cheeks slightly red. “But it’s okay. We’ll figure something out.”

I shake my head, trying my best to ignore the voice inside my head that is still screaming at me to run. Lover is right – the sooner we get this over with the better. “No, I’m free today.”

She looks up and gives me a small smile, looking relieved. “Okay, good. Do you want to come over to mine…?”

I take a deep breath and get up. “Sure.”

We walk to the bus stop in silence, which is fine with me, but when she still hasn’t said more than maybe five words once we’ve got on the bus, it’s starting to feel a bit awkward. I’m not sure I even want her to talk to me… It’s more like I want to just disappear.

“You okay?” she asks quietly.

I glance over at her. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

Lover’s apartment is on the third floor. “My mom’s still at work,” she says, fumbling for her keys. “I don’t think she’ll be home until dinner.”

“Okay.”

She doesn’t say anything about her dad, and I don’t ask, but a small part of me is starting to wonder if maybe her life isn’t as picture-perfect as I always thought it was.

She unlocks the door and steps inside, taking off her shoes and jacket. I follow her down the hall to an open door.

“So, this is my room,” she says, gesturing at the door. “Um, do you like lemonade?”

“Yeah,” I say, glancing inside her room.

She nods. “Just make yourself comfortable. I’ll be right back.”

With that, she leaves me alone.

Hesitantly, I step inside and look around. The first thing I notice are the many different colors. They’re literally everywhere – the pastel-colored pillows and plushies on her bed, a few plants on shelves, a pink guitar leaning against her desk, a lesbian pride flag as well as tons of posters on the walls – most of them colorful lyric posters and some of different singers, bands and actors, half of which I don’t recognize.

About twenty books sit on her windowsill. I don’t recognize any of them, but judging by the titles, they all seem to be queer coming-of-age stories. Which honestly seems exactly like the kind of thing she would read.

A small shelf is stuffed with art stuff – dozens of brushes, canvases and all different kinds of paint. I can’t find any paintings in her room, though. Maybe she doesn’t hang them on the walls.

I turn around and try to take in everything but it’s just so much. And it’s so her.

The wall over her desk is covered in photos, and when I step closer, I recognize Evermore and Folklore in most of them, often alongside Lover. Others show her with a woman that I assume must be her mother – they have the same face.

To my surprise, there’s even a photo with me in it – the one we took at Centennial Park not too long ago, together with Evermore and Folklore. Obviously, I’m not the reason that that photo is on her wall, but maybe it being here means that she doesn’t hate me after all.

A quiet meow makes me whirl around. A small cat is standing in the doorway, looking up at me. I recognize him from that photo Lover showed me a month ago. What was his name…? Benjamin?

“Hi,” I say, crouching down on the floor, and look at him. He hesitantly walks over to me, rubbing his head against my leg and purrs. I gently stroke him.

“Oh, and that’s Benji, my cat.” I look up at the sound of Lover’s voice to find her standing in the doorway, two glasses and a bottle of lemonade in her hands and a smile on her face.

“Sorry,” I say, drawing my hand back. I don’t know why, but I’m feeling sort of… embarrassed. Though there’s honestly no reason for that. I don’t care what she thinks about me anyway.

Lover looks a little confused but doesn’t say anything, instead sitting down on the floor next to me. “So, um, have you worked anything on the project since we last met up?”

“Not really,” I admit, watching Benji as he trots over to a cat bed in the corner of the room, making himself comfortable there, and closing his eyes.

Lover follows my gaze and smiles just a bit. “Me neither.” She pours lemonade into both glasses and hands me one. “Should we just split it up and do some research and then we can make the presentation together?”

“Sure.” I grab my bag and get out my laptop, then open the same document I was taking notes in that time we went to the library together.

I’m trying to concentrate on the text I’m reading, but I can’t. Not when there’s still this awkward-feeling silence between us, not when I can’t make any sense out of why Lover is being so nice to me all of a sudden – Sure, she probably just asked me to come over so that we’d finish our project in time and not get an F. But still…

I was a complete bitch to her. There’s no point in denying that, even if I wish I could. We both know.

So why is she still trying to be kind to me? Why doesn’t she hate me?

Or maybe she does and she’s just really good at hiding it.

I don’t know.

The thing that’s bugging me most, though, is that I don’t even really want her to hate me anymore.

I go back a few paragraphs and reread the whole thing, but I still can’t seem to make any sense of it.

_____________

- Lover -

We work on our project in silence, the only sound the tapping on our keyboards. At one point I almost ask her if she wants to listen to music, but then I change my mind. Trying to pick out something we both like would probably just make things even more awkward – I don’t know much about her taste in music, but I’d guess that it’s probably completely different from mine.

Having her here, in my room, makes me feel kind of nervous. I don’t know how I even managed to gather up the courage to ask her to come over in the first place.

“I’m sorry.”

I look up from my notes at the sound of Reputation’s voice, a bit surprised that she’s spoken, but mostly just confused. “What?”

She looks down at her book, avoiding eye contact. “I’m… sorry. For, you know, making fun of you the other night.”

I blink. Did she… did she really just apologize to me? “It’s okay,” I say after a short pause.

She shakes her head. “No, it’s not. It was just mean and so unnecessary… I’m sorry. Really.” She looks up at me at the last part, and I think I can see a certain insecurity in her eyes. Almost like she’s scared I won’t forgive her.

“It’s okay, Reputation,” I say. “Really.” I give her a small smile. “I’m not mad at you.”

To my surprise, the corners of her mouth turn up slightly and she returns my smile. Sort of, at least. “Thanks,” she says.

I just nod and return my attention to the text I’ve been reading through, but I feel like maybe the ice between us is finally broken, like maybe she doesn’t think I’m a weirdo, after all. Like maybe we can still become friends.

“I’m home,” my mom calls from the hall, the apartment door falling shut after her.

“We’re in my room,” I call back, and just a moment later I can hear her footsteps approaching. She stops in the doorway and smiles at me. “Hi, sweetheart.” It only takes about one millisecond for her eyes to land on Reputation, a questioning expression on her face.

“Hi,” I say, “Um… that’s Reputation. We were just working on our project for history class together.” I can feel my cheeks grow warm for absolutely no reason. There’s nothing wrong with Reputation being here. In my room. It doesn’t matter that my mom thought… No. It doesn’t matter.

The expression on my mom face makes me think that she probably still believes there’s something going on between us, but much to her credit, she doesn’t say anything about it, instead just smiling warmly at Reputation. “Alright. Nice to meet you, Reputation.” She pauses for just a moment before she asks, “Do you want to stay over for dinner? We’ll probably just order some takeaway food if that’s okay with you? And you two can eat in Lover’s room if you want to.”

“Oh, um…” Reputation glances over at me, like she wants me to help her out. Or like she doesn’t know what to do.

I smile at her, not sure what exactly she wants me to do. Make up an excuse for her? Tell her that I don’t mind her staying over and eating with us?

It’s okay, I mouth, which I hope is a helpful thing to say in both of those situations. Then I add, “We probably still need another couple of hours to put together our presentation.”

Reputation nods and then looks back up at my mom. “Yeah, sure. If it’s not an imposition.”

Her expression is still just a bit insecure – something I never would have expected from her and wouldn’t have noticed if I hadn’t seen her act like a bad bitch for years and years, never slipping up, never once dropping her mask. I used to think she was so cool for that. Maybe even hot. Though I would never admit that out loud to anyone.

But seeing her like this, being polite to my mom, making sure she isn’t bothering anyone, apologizing to me for the way she acted… I’m starting to realize that maybe the person she is beneath all of that is someone else entirely.

“Of course not,” my mom replies. “Are burritos okay?”

“Yeah,” Reputation says. When mom looks at me, I just give her a thumbs up.

“Okay. I’ll leave you guys to it,” my mom says. Then she closes the door and leaves us alone again.

“Are you done with your part?” I ask Reputation.

“Almost,” she says. “Just give me a minute.”

I watch her for a moment as she keeps typing, her hair falling into her face, eyes focused on her laptop. Then I create a presentation and share the file with her.

“Okay,” she says a moment later, “I’m done.” She looks up at me. “Should we just, like, read each other’s texts or…?”

“Sure,” I say, handing her my laptop and accepting hers in return. A small snake sticker in the top right corner of the screen catches my attention. There’s an even smaller 13 right next to it, but those are the only stickers. She really likes snakes, doesn’t she?

I start to read what she’s written, trying not to think about the fact that at the same time she’s also reading what I have written. I don’t know why, but it feels kind of weird. Not as weird as letting someone read my poetry or song lyrics, but still weird.

“Alright,” she says once we’ve finished reading. “I’m thinking we should probably start with that first part you wrote? Like, as an introduction.”

I nod. “Okay.”

We keep trying to figure out a good order to put the paragraphs in, blending some of them together, and then start to look up pictures to put in our presentation.

A quiet knock at the door makes me look up and the next moment my mom is opening the door, two plates with burritos in her hands.

I get up and take them from her. “Thanks, mom.”

She smiles at me. “You’re welcome. How’s it going with the project?”

“Good,” I say, glancing back at Reputation. She’s still sitting on the floor, scrolling through her laptop. “We’ll probably be done pretty soon.”

“That’s nice,” my mom says. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

“Yeah,” I say and sit back down with Reputation. My mom gives me one more smile and then leaves again.

I pass one of the plates over to Reputation. She looks up from her laptop and accepts it. “Thanks.”

I smile at her and start to unwrap my own burrito. “Did you and Evermore come up with a song? You know, when you met up this weekend?”

I could’ve sworn that she tenses at the mention of it, but it must have been my imagination, because just a moment later she’s back to normal again and shakes her head. “Not really.”

I don’t really know what to say to that, so I just stay quiet and start to eat my burrito, hoping that I’m not being as awkward as I feel.

“What about you?” Reputation asks after a while, her half-eaten burrito in her hand. “Like, have you written your song…?”

“Oh,” I say, surprised that she asked me about it. That she even knows that I write songs too. “Um, yeah. I mean it’s not, like, done or anything, but I do have a draft.”

She nods. “Cool.”

We finish eating in silence and then continue to work on our project. At some point, Benji joins us, laying down with his head in my lap, and I stroke him while Reputation keeps adding the last touches to the presentation.

It’s already dark outside when she eventually looks up from the screen. “Done.”

I smile. “Good.”

She shuts her laptop closed and gets up. “I should probably go now.”

I pick up Benji and follow her out into the hall, watching as she puts on her shoes and jacket. “Hey,” she says, turning around to look at me. “Thanks for… letting me come over and everything.”

“You’re welcome,” I say, feeling a smile settle on my lips. Benji jumps down from my arms and walks away, leaving us alone. I follow him with my eyes for a moment and then look back at Reputation. She smiles just a bit. “He’s such a cutie.”

“I know, right?” I say. Before I can change my mind again, I take a step forward and hug her. For a moment she goes stiff in my arms, and I wonder if I overstepped, if maybe I shouldn’t have done this after all. I’m about to pull away, when I feel her hands on my back. It’s barely even the ghost of a touch, but it still makes my heart beat stupidly fast.

“Thanks,” I say, and pull back after a moment. I’m not exactly sure what I am thanking her for. The hug? That she came over despite me being a weirdo and her not liking me? Something else entirely?

“I’ll see you,” she says, reaching for the doorknob. The next moment, she’s gone, leaving me alone with a giddy warm feeling in my chest.

Chapter Text

- 1989 -

I let my hand slide through the water, the motion disrupting the reflection of the few clouds in the otherwise clear blue sky. A few swans swim by our boat and further away there are some other people in pedalos and rowboats, but else than that, it’s quite calm around here.

I splash water at Karma, laughing at the way she flinches before a grin quickly takes over her face. “It’s cold.”

She lets go of the oars and splashes cold water right back at me. I squeal and try to duck but it’s no good. “You’re gonna ruin my dress!”

She shakes her head, still grinning at me, her green eyes sparkling in the sunlight, her bleached hair illuminated from behind, almost looking like a halo. “You had it coming.”

I roll my eyes, but still I can’t stop myself from smiling. “Yeah, sure.” The blue fabric of my dress is partially drenched with water from the lake, but I honestly don’t think I even care.

“What time is it?” Karma asks.

I check my phone. “Almost five. We should probably head back to the shore soon.”

“Mhm…” She inches closer to me, leaning forward, and presses her lips to mine in a short kiss. Before I’ve even processed what’s happening, she pulls away again and I feel the splash of cold water on my arm.

“Hah!” She grins at me. “Got you. Again.”

“Mean.” I smile at her either way.

In my peripheral vision, I see her phone screen light up where it’s lying on the seat next to me. When I glance down, I see that someone is calling her. I open my mouth to tell her, but before I can, she already snatches the phone and puts it away.

“Who…?” I start.

“No one,” Karma says. Then, when she sees my expression, she adds, “It’s nothing important, really.”

Obviously, it’s not no one, but the way she smiles at me makes me want to believe her. So I just let it slide. “Okay.”

Karma rows us back to the shore and before I even realize it, we’ve already returned the boat and are walking along the lake’s shore, hand in hand.

The sun is starting to set, painting the sky a beautifully deep orange. I stop, bringing Karma to a halt as well, and stare at the sunset, pulling my jacket tighter around myself, the fabric of my dress wafting in the wind.

“Wanna come over to mine?” Karma asks. “My parents are out for the night.”

I turn to look at her. “Oh. Yeah, sure.”

“Cool.” She smiles, tugging at my hand. “Come.”

We keep walking and then at some point we’re running, still hand in hand, both of us laughing. We only stop once we’ve reached the park gate.

“We should dance.”

I turn my head slightly to look over at Karma where she’s sitting on the floor, with her back leaning against the coffee table, a half-empty glass of wine in her hand.

I’m lying on her couch, my own wineglass sitting on the coffee table next to a polaroid she took of us, earlier tonight. “Huh?”

The light from the TV screen casts long shadows across her face.

The movie she put on earlier is still playing, but I haven’t been paying any attention to it for the past twenty minutes or so.

“I don’t think there’s enough room in here.”

Karma shrugs. “We’ll just move the furniture. Come on.” She puts her glass down next to mine and jumps up, then pushes the coffee table to the wall.

I sit up, brushing my hair out of my face, and watch her.

Karma turns to me, the polaroid picture in her hand. “Hey, look. It’s like we’re in screaming color but the rest of the world is just black and white.”

I take the picture and look at it. “Oh, you’re right.”

She smiles. “Help me with the couch?”

“Yeah, of course.” I get up and grab one end of the couch while she takes the other. Together, we lift it and carry it to the side of the room.

Once we’ve moved all the furniture in the living room out of the way, she pulls me close, her arms around my waist, spinning me slowly, the only sound the quiet music from the movie that is still playing in the background.

We’re awfully out of sync, but it’s fun.

When the song ends, Karma stands on her tiptoes, stealing a quick kiss. “Wanna keep watching the movie? Or…?”

I shake my head and she grins at me. “I thought so.”

She kisses me again and it stops time, her hands in my hair as I pull her closer.

In the back of my mind, I know that this can’t last forever. I know that even though I’m completely and doubtlessly all hers, she’s probably not mine. I know.

But we still pretend this could last forever.

_____________

The two weeks in London fly by in the blink of an eye, and soon I find myself standing in the hotel’s reception, with my packed bags next to me, waiting for my father to finish his last meeting.

Inside my pocket, my phone buzzes and I pull it out, my heart beating fast, hope rising inside me like a spark of fire. Karma.

But when I read the name on the screen, my heart drops. Of course it’s not her.

misstaymericana17: You’re coming back home today, right?
misstaymericana17: I think Evermore mentioned it
misstaymericana17: Have a good flight!! :)

I put my phone away again – I’ll reply to her later, once I’m at the airport. It’s so like Lover to text me this, though. She’s the only person I know who would actually text someone just to wish them a good flight.

After a moment, my thoughts wander back to Karma. I don’t know if I should try to call her… I don’t know if she even still wants to talk to me.

When I woke up this morning, she was gone, and I haven’t heard anything from her since.

Why’d she whisper in the dark just to leave me in the night?

I can’t make any sense out of it.

“1989, we have to get going.”

My father walks right past me to the door, a single small bag in his hand. I roll my eyes at him, but grab both my bags nonetheless, starting to follow him outside. I’m not the one who’s late.

“1989!” I whirl around at the sound of my name, my hand already halfway to the doorknob, to find Karma standing right there in the middle of the otherwise empty room. She runs one hand through her hair, a small smile on her lips. “Sorry I’m late.”

I drop my bags and run to her, throwing my arms around her waist and pulling her into a kiss, all quickly forgiven. After a moment I pull away, out of breath. “Where were you?”

She looks up at me, her face still close enough so that I could count the freckles on her nose. Her hands are in my hair, playing around with my curls. “I was just… I’m sorry.”

Just what? I want to ask, but I keep my mouth shut. She’s here now. That’s all that really matters.

“I should probably…” I glance back over my shoulder at the door. There’s no one in sight – we’re alone. But I know that my father is waiting for me outside, probably getting angrier at me for taking so long with every second that passes.

“Go?” she asks after a moment, her voice softer than usual.

I look at her. “Yeah.” My voice is oddly thick and I’m not sure if I can manage to say anything more without bursting into tears.

“I know.” She moves one of her hands to my cheek and stands on her tiptoes, pressing her lips to mine. I wish I could just stop time and stay in this moment forever. Wish I could forever feel the touch of her hands on my face, her body pressing against mine, her mouth opening slightly under my lips.

Wish I could keep kissing her forever.

After what feels like hours, yet a much too short amount of time, we eventually pull apart, both of us out of breath. “We’ll still stay in touch, right?” I ask, the words slipping from my lips before I can stop them. “Even when I’m back in Taymerica?”

An expression I can’t quite read crosses over her face for the shortest of moments, but then it’s gone again, and she nods. “Yeah. Of course.”

Relief floods through my body, making it just a bit easier to breathe again. “Good.”

I know that I should leave now. I know.

But I don’t think I can.

I wait for her to say something more, though I’m not exactly sure what. I don’t know what I want her to say. Or is it something I’m supposed to say?

“Do you want to come along?” I ask her after a moment of silence between us. “Outside, I mean.”

She shakes her head. “No… it’s best if I just stay here.”

Right, I remember, feeling stupid for even asking. No one knows about this. About us.

“Okay.” I fight back tears. I can’t cry in front of her. “I… yeah.”

She reaches out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, her eyes never once leaving mine, a small smile on her face. She doesn’t say anything more. Maybe she doesn’t need to.

I lean forward and press my lips to hers in a last kiss, feeling her skin against mine one more time. When I pull away, I can still feel a ghost of the touch of her lips on mine. “Say you’ll remember me?” I ask under my breath.

“Yeah,” she says. “Of course I will. I could never forget you.”

I feel like crying, but I force myself to smile at her as I slowly take a step back. She doesn’t try to stop me. Doesn’t reach out. It’s for the better, I know. But I still wish she would.

“Okay, bye then.” I reach for the doorknob behind me and open the door just a bit.

“Bye,” she says, still unmoving, watching me.

I take a step backwards but then hold out, halfway out the door, waiting. Hoping for her to say Don’t go. Deep down, I know that she won’t.

I turn around and head for the second set of double doors, hot tears streaming down my face. I was a fool to ever think that she’d ask me to stay. Brushing my tears away with the back of my hand, I put on a brave expression and leave the hotel.

The taxi driver helps me load my bags into the back, where someone already has placed all of my father’s stuff, and I thank him with a quick smile. Then I hop into the backseat, plugging in my headphones, and turn up the music just loud enough to drown out my father’s voice as he is talking into his phone.

I open Instagram and click myself to Karma’s account, just staring at her posts. The latest one is a photo of a blurry polaroid picture that was taken at dusk. It shows her, me, and three of her friends, sitting on the grass at a park, laughing at a joke I don’t remember. I just remember being happy.

Fuck it.

I open her DMs, quickly typing out a message, and then just sit there waiting for her to reply. It takes a few minutes, but eventually that little green dot appears next to her profile picture. She’s online.

lostinwonderland: I’m gonna miss you
lostinwonderland: Can I call you tonight once I’m home?

karmaisreal: Yeah ofc
karmaisreal: I’ll miss u too

lostinwonderland: <3

She doesn’t respond after that, so I close our chat, instead scrolling through the new comments on my blog, trying to switch my thoughts onto something else. There are hundreds of them. I reply to some and then delete most of the mean ones, trying my best to not let the hateful words get to the better of me. It’s harder than it should be.

The words just keep ringing in my head even hours later. You can’t even sing. That’s so weird. You have literally ZERO talent, what the fuck is this even.

“I’ll just go to the toilet real quick,” I tell my father, grabbing my backpack off the floor.

He doesn’t look up, just gives me a nod of his head and keeps typing on his laptop. I barely resist the urge to roll my eyes as I push past the crowds of people waiting for their planes. He has barely tried to talk to me for the entire time we stayed in London. I think once I even didn’t see him at all for three whole days.

I lock myself in a bathroom stall and get out my phone, not really sure what I was even going to do. Call Karma and just seem like that obsessive psychopathic type of girlfriend who can’t handle being without her for more than five minutes?

I open my contacts and scroll through the list until I find Reputation’s name and then press my phone to my ear as I wait for her to pick up.

She doesn’t.

I should’ve known – she almost never picks up her phone. At least not when I’m the one who’s calling.

I guess I kind of understand why.

I bite my lip and stare at the screen, trying to hold back the tears that are pricking my eyes. I don’t have anyone to call. It hits me. I don’t have anyone I could call right now.

The only person I’d really want to talk to about this is my mom. But she’s gone.

I wipe my eyes and then check my reflection in the mirror. At least my make-up is still mostly intact.

When I get back to the seating area, my father is still sitting in the exact same spot, still working on his laptop, still not sparing me a single glance.

With a sigh, I sit down next to him and get out my phone, finally opening the messages Lover sent me earlier.

lostinwonderland: Yeah, I am
lostinwonderland: Thank u <3

It only takes a moment until she’s online and the three small dots appear at the bottom of the screen.

misstaymericana17: Of course <3
misstaymericana17: Wait ur birthday is October 27, right?

 lostinwonderland: Yesss it is

misstaymericana17: That’s pretty soon !!
misstaymericana17: Sooo do u have any birthday wishes? :)

lostinwonderland: U don’t have to get me anything, Lover

It’s kind of funny how just a few weeks ago, I’d never even talked to Lover, but by now we were chatting almost daily. For a moment I wonder if I should tell her about Karma, but then I don’t. It just doesn’t feel right. Not when I haven’t told anyone – not even Evermore. I did try to tell her, last week, but that didn’t work out. To be honest, I’m not sure she’d even care.

misstaymericana17: I know but I want to <3

There’s an announcement, asking us to board the plane, so I leave her on read for now.

My hand comes up to touch the small paper airplane charm on the necklace that Karma gave me that very first day. It somehow feels like that was impossibly long ago.

I knew I had to go back home.

Chapter Text

- Reputation -

“Hey!” 1989 throws her arms around Evermore, pulling her into a hug. Then she waves at me. “How are you guys?”

“I’m fine,” Evermore says. “You?”

She smiles. “Yeah, I’m good.”

I grab my books out of my locker, then close the door and turn the key. 1989 and Evermore are both still sorting through their stuff and chatting with each other, so I just stand there and wait for them.

Through the crowd of moving students, a blur of pink at the other end of the corridor catches my eye, and my head practically snaps up. It’s Lover. Of course it’s Lover.

Her eyes meet mine and she waves at me, a tiny smile on her lips. Almost automatically, I lift my hand and wave back, earning a raised eyebrow from Evermore.

Lover stops when she’s reached us and smiles at 1989, her eyes lighting up. “Hi, welcome back!”

I sort of wish she would smile at me like that.

“Thanks!” 1989 pulls her into a hug too. “Hey, you have English class too, now, right?”

Lover nods. “Yeah.”

“Oh, thank god.” 1989 closes her locker door. “Did you read that book we were supposed to finish until today?”

“Most of it.”

Evermore slams her locker shut, the sudden sound making me turn my attention to her instead. “You ready to go?” she asks, looking at me.

“Yeah.”

“Oh, um…” Lover turns to me, twisting a strand of hair around her finger. “I was wondering… For the presentation… Was I supposed to do the part after the introduction too, or are you gonna do that?”

I shrug, trying to ignore the way Evermore is watching us, with that weird expression on her face, like she knows something I don’t.

“I don’t know,” I say. Then, when Lover doesn’t say anything for a moment, I add, “I can do it if you want me to.”

“That would be great. Thanks.” She smiles a little, looking somewhat relieved.

“Sure.”

I turn around and start to walk away, with Evermore on my heels.

“What the fuck was that?” She asks, once we’re out of earshot.

“What?”

“Since when are you friends with Lover?”

Something tightens in my chest. Friends. I don’t…

“We’re not friends,” I say, keeping my eyes straight ahead.

“Yeah, sure.” There’s a sarcastic undertone to her voice. “You literally waved at her, Rep. You never wave at people.”

“We aren’t friends,” I repeat. At least I don’t think we are.

“Whatever.”

We stop in front of the classroom, and Evermore sits down on the windowsill, looking up at me. “But you don’t hate her anymore?”

I shrug. “I guess she’s alright.”

“Mhm…” Evermore is watching me, an undefinable expression on her face.

“What?” I ask.

“Were you being nice to her cause you think she’s gorgeous?”

I sigh. “That song is not about her, Evermore.”

She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, of course it’s not.”

I can tell that she doesn’t believe me.

_____________

- Lover -

During lunch break on Wednesday, I try my best to distract myself from the fact that I have to do a presentation in front of my entire history class in less than half an hour, but it isn’t really working.

Folklore is reading, her book sitting next to her tray on the table. A piece of paper peeks out from beneath it, with something written on it in neat cursive handwriting. “What’s that?” I ask.

She looks up, a questioning expression on her face. Then she slides the paper over to me. “I found it in the music room the other day,” she says, and shrugs. “It was just laying around there. No idea who it belongs to.”

I look down at the paper. You don’t get to tell me about SAD.

“Huh.” I hand it back to her. “Weird.”

Evermore waves at someone behind me, and when I turn around, I see Red and Speak Now walking toward us.

“Hey, do you guys have any plans for Halloween?” Evermore already asks them before they’ve even put down their trays on the table. Red pulls out the chair next to mine and sits down, eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t think so. Why?”

Evermore shrugs. “I was just thinking we should all do something together.”

For once, 1989 actually looks up from her phone – I’m pretty sure she’s been constantly texting someone for the past three days, ever since she came back from London. “Like a party or…?”

Evermore shrugs. “Nah, not necessarily. We could just, like, hang out, you know? Play games or watch a movie or something.”

Red nods. “Yeah, I’m in.”

“Sounds like fun,” I say and quickly glance at Reputation. She doesn’t show any reaction, even seems to be completely uninterested in our conversation. I don’t really know what to make of it.

“I think we can probably be at our place,” Evermore adds, ignoring the look of dismay that Folklore shoots her.

Speak Now looks up from her plate, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “Oh my God, yes. Cabin in the woods on Halloween.”

Evermore rolls her eyes. “It’s a house. And it’s not even really in the woods.”

Speak Now shrugs and attacks her pasta with her fork. “As good as.”

Evermore just ignores her and turns to 1989 instead. “By the way, are you gonna throw a party on your birthday again this year?”

1989 turns off her phone and puts it on the table, with the screen facing down. “Yeah, I guess.”

I look at her, a little surprised, though I probably shouldn’t be. “You’re hosting a party?”

She nods. “Yeah. You’re all invited, by the way.”

“Aww, thanks.” I smile at her. “Do you want me to help with anything?”

Her eyes light up. “That would be amazing.”

“I can help too,” Red chimes in. “Just tell me what I should do.”

“Thanks.” 1989 smiles at her. “If you could help with the food, that would be amazing. And if someone could help with the decorations and stuff.”

“I’ll do that,” I say.

1989 nods. “Great. Thanks guys.”

“Of course.”

When I glance at Reputation again, she still doesn’t really show any interest in our conversation. I’m pretty sure she hasn’t said a single word for the past fifteen minutes or so. But then again, she doesn’t usually talk much anyways, does she?

Folklore glances at the clock on the wall and shuts her book, using the piece of paper with You don’t get to tell me about sad written on it as a bookmark. “I’m gonna go meet up with Joe,” she tells me.

I nod. “Okay, have fun!”

She gives me a quick smile and then gets up, grabbing her tray from the table.

“Who’s Joe?” Evermore asks, looking at me with her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

I hesitate for a moment, trying to figure out why she doesn’t know already.

“This guy she’s working with on her song,” I say at last.

Evermore just looks even more confused. “What?”

I shrug. “I don’t know him.”

She drops the topic after that, though I can tell it’s still bothering her, even if she tries to hide it. I honestly would’ve expected her to already know about Joe by now, considering how close her and Folklore usually are.

Evermore is discussing some TV-show with Red and Speak Now and 1989 is on her phone again, smiling at the screen, so I turn to Reputation. “Hey, um, do you want to do, like, a quick run-through of our presentation?”

She looks at me and doesn’t say anything for a moment, her eyes weirdly intimidating. Sometimes I feel like she can see right through me.

Then she shrugs. “Yeah, sure. If you want to.”

“Okay.” I feel a weight lift off my shoulders and get up, grabbing my tray. Reputation follows me.

“We’ll go,” I tell the others and then start to leave, trying my best to ignore the look that Red and Speak Now exchange. It probably has nothing to do with me or Reputation anyway.

We walk to our lockers to get our stuff first, and while I wait for Reputation, I can’t help but notice the snake earrings she’s wearing. I think they’re the same ones she wore to that party in September. Your eyes are so pretty.

“I love your earrings.” The words stumble out of my mouth before I can stop them. Reputation looks up from her locker, her eyes meeting mine. She seems to be a little confused for just a moment, but then her expression is back to that usual, inscrutable mask again. “Thanks,” she says, grabbing her books and closing her locker before she turns the key.

We sit down in an empty common room, me on the couch and Reputation in an armchair opposite of me. She puts her laptop down on the small coffee table, clicking herself to our presentation, and then turns the screen so that both of us can see, her eyes coming up to meet mine. “You ready to start?”

I fidget with the small, crocheted cat pendant on my key chain. It’s pretty old – Folklore made it for me when we were in middle school – but somehow it still looks almost brand new. I nod. “Yeah.”

There’s a small pause and then Reputation quietly asks, “You okay?”

When I look up at her, I’m surprised to find that she is looking at me, her eyebrows slightly drawn together in concern.

“Yeah.” I give her a small smile, feeling kind of embarrassed. “Just a bit nervous… I don’t really like talking in front of people.”

“Oh.” The surprise in her eyes takes me aback.

“What?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “Nothing. I just…” She hesitates for a moment. “You always seem so confident, so I guess I just wasn’t expecting you to…”

A nervous laugh escapes my lips. “Really?” Reputation thinks I’m confident?

She shrugs, her eyes focused on the table between us. “Yeah.” She pauses for a moment, then quietly adds, “I don’t really like talking in front of people either.”

I don’t think I’ve ever heard her speak that quietly before.

“Well, we’re in this together, then,” I say, giving her a small smile.

She finally looks at me, a strand of hair falling into her eyes. I feel the weird urge to reach out and brush it out of her face, but before I can do something stupid like that, she’s already tucked it back behind her ear.

Her mouth turns upward in the tiniest of smiles. “Yeah, we are.”

_____________

- Folklore -

Joe isn’t there yet when I enter the music room. But there is another note, sitting on top of the piano, written in the same cursive handwriting as the first two notes. Am I allowed to cry?

I leave it there and look around the room instead. A few guitars hang on one wall and old vinyls on another, aligned with photos of different groups of high schoolers – probably the theatre group.

In some of them, I recognize the two girls that were sitting outside the music room, the first time I came here. I love you, it’s ruining my life. You don’t get to tell me about sad. Am I allowed to cry?

I wonder if they’re the ones who left all those notes. And why.

“Oh, you’re already here.”

I nearly jump at the sound of Joe’s voice, causing him to chuckle lightly. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s alright,” I say, pulling at the sleeves of my old cardigan. “Uh, I was just looking around.”

He smiles. “You said you wanted more help with that song?”

I nod. “Yes, um, I just needed someone else’s thoughts on a part, so I thought… I’d ask you?”

His eyes find the paper that is still laying on top of the piano, and for a moment his face takes on a weird expression I can’t quite identify. But just a moment later it’s gone again. Maybe I only imagined it.

_____________

- Lover -

I tap Reputation’s shoulder and slide the piece of paper over to her side of the desk. She raises one eyebrow at me, looking just a little confused, but then she glances down at the note and even though her hair falls into her face, blocking it from me, I think I can still see a small smile on her lips. She grabs my pen and scribbles something down on the paper, then passes it back to me.

I look down at the paper. Right below my note – You did well!! :) – she wrote thanks, you too in her neat handwriting. Just like with her text messages, all the letters are in lowercase.

Wanna hang out today? I write after her reply, hesitating for a moment before I slide it over to her, focusing my eyes on the front of the classroom, where our teacher is currently talking about what we’re going to work with next. We were the last group to hold our presentation for the class, but we finished just a few minutes ago.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see how Reputation starts to write something down on the paper, but then erases it again. My heart tightens. She’s going to say no.

I try my best to concentrate on the lesson instead. There’s really no reason Reputation would ever want to hang out with me anyway. She was probably only talking to me because of that project, I realize with a jolt. And now that it’s over, what is stopping her from going back to ignoring me again?

Reputation passes the note back to me, but I keep my eyes on the front of the classroom, refusing to look down. I don’t want to see those two letters there. I don’t want this to be over.

After a moment, she nudges my arm, probably thinking I didn’t notice the note yet.

I close my eyes for a moment and take a deep breath, then look down at the paper, bracing myself for the worst.

yeah, sounds like fun

I blink. What? My heart skips a beat, and I look up at Reputation, unable to suppress a small smile.

Cool :D, I write down and pass the note back to her.

“Lover, Reputation,” our teacher says, giving us a disapproving look. “If you have something so important to say, maybe you want to share it with the class?”

I can feel the heat rush into my cheeks, but before I can even think of anything to say, Reputation already speaks up.

“I’m sorry, I was just asking her for help with something.”

I glance over at her, astonished. I never would’ve thought that Reputation would take any blame on herself just to save me.

Thank you, I mouth, when our teacher isn’t looking anymore.

She just shrugs, giving me a small smile.

_____________

- Reputation -

“Were you gonna help with the decorations for 1989’s party, too?” Lover asks, pulling her jacket tighter around herself.

I hesitate. “I… don’t know. Why?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Lover stops to pick up another autumn leaf from the ground – she told me earlier that she’s going to press them all when she gets home and put them up on her wall.

Her pink jacket and dyed hair tips stick out even more than usually, with the orange trees of Centennial Park in the background. The colors probably shouldn’t have gone along with each other, but somehow, they still do. “I mean, you guys ae pretty close friends, right? I guess I just assumed…” She shrugs.

Pretty close friends. Something about the way she says it almost makes me believe that we are.

“Do you think I should help?” I ask, glancing over at Lover.

She shrugs, giving me a small smile. “It’s always good to have another pair of hands.”

I can’t help but think about how pretty she looks. Her blue eyes are gleaming, and her tan skin is practically glowing in the autumn sun, her hair blowing slightly in the wind. I sort of wish I would never have to take my eyes off her again.

“I guess I’ll help, then,” I say, looking away, my cheeks feeling a little too warm. Lately, I catch myself staring at her way too often. If I didn’t know better, I’d almost think I was in love with her.

I’m not, though.

Obviously.

A leaf on the ground catches my eye and I stop to pick it up. It’s heart-shaped, the color some weird shade between orange and red, that almost looks pink. It seems to be exactly the sort of thing Lover would like.

Wordlessly, I hand it to her.

“Oh, thank you.” She smiles at me, accepting the leave, and adding it to the small bouquet of leaves that has formed in her hand since we started walking around a while ago. “This one is so beautiful.”

“You’re welcome,” I say, and try my best to ignore the way my heart beats just a bit faster whenever she smiles.

Chapter Text

- Midnights -

It’s almost midnight when I finally get home, the starless sky heavy with rainclouds. My hair is dripping, the small braids, that I put some strands into just this morning, probably ruined by now. The apartment is quiet, the lights out, my dad probably fast asleep in his bedroom.

I sneak inside, careful to be quiet, and then close door behind me, cringing at the way the lock clicks a little too loudly in the otherwise dead silent apartment. For a moment, I remain unmoving, but when nothing happens, I breathe out. I slip out of my sneakers and put them onto the shoe rack, but keep on my jacket – mainly because I sort of forgot my shirt at his place.

I check my phone, but there are no missed calls, no text messages, nothing. Of course not. Why would he even try to reach out to me anymore? It’s obvious it didn’t – doesn’t – mean anything to him. It never did. I stuff my phone back into my pocket and start to make my way across the hallway, then stop when a few boxes in a corner of the living room catch my eye. I frown at them, then just shrug. Maybe my dad is packing away stuff to sell again.

About half of the misshaped chocolate cake that dad made for my birthday is still sitting on the kitchen counter. Even though it kind of looks like a failed experiment, it tastes fairly good. Especially considering the fact that my dad usually is shit at baking. I’m hungry as hell because I haven’t really eaten anything since lunch, so I grab a plate and a fork and then cut myself a piece of the cake, sitting down at the kitchen counter with it. There’s a stash of new mail lying right next to where I put my plate, and I take the letter that’s on top and flip it around. It’s addressed to me. I recognize the handwriting immediately. Mom.

Guess that’s the annual birthday letter, then.

I rip it open and take out the single paper that is inside, unfolding it. A few banknotes fall out of it and land on the kitchen counter – probably a few hundred dollars, just like every year.

I stuff some cake into my mouth and start to read the first few lines of the letter, but it’s just the usual shit – Are you okay? I miss you. How’s school going? Please write back.

I don’t even read all of it. Don’t have to. Just stuff the paper back into the envelope and push it aside, knowing damn well that I’m never going to write back. Never even going to look at that stupid piece of paper again. What does she even want me to write? I’m not. Well good for you but I don’t. It’s going like shit. Are you happy now?

Most definitely not.

The next envelope is also addressed to me, and when I open it, I find a handwritten birthday card inside. I don’t even have to look at the signatures to know who it’s from. There’s only one person I know who still unironically uses a quill and writes in these old-styled cursive letters, in the twenty-first century.

“Oh, fuck you too, Poet,” I mutter under my breath.

Why for fuck’s sake is she still doing this?

As far as I remember I haven’t responded to a single one of her letters or cards for years. Or her sister’s, for that matter.

I put both envelopes into the pocket of my jacket, then start to flip through the other letters, but they’re all addressed to my dad, mostly bills and boring stuff like that. But one at the bottom of the stack catches my attention. Mostly because the sender seems to be some high school in Pennsylvania. Like, why the fuck would a Pennsylvanian high school send my dad a letter when we literally live across the country?

The envelope is already ripped open, and, before I have even thought it through properly, I’m already pulling out the neatly folded piece of paper that is tucked inside of it. I quickly scan the rows of text, feeling my eyebrows draw together more with every word, disbelieve and then anger rising inside of me, like a wave that is threatening to drown any last bit of common sense that I still have left after this whole day. What the fuck?

This can’t be real.

They’ve got to have made a mistake or-

“Midnights?”

I look up at the sound of my name. My dad is standing in the doorway, wearing his pajamas, his hair a complete disaster and his expression confused. Basically he looks like he just got up from bed, which I guess he did.

“I thought you were having a sleepover with your friends?”

I want to scoff. Friends.

That’s what I told him. It’s honestly kind of funny he still believes in all those lies.

Before I can come up with something to say, his eyes drop to the letter in my hands and his expression darkens. “What’s that?”

“Pretty sure I’m the one who’s supposed to ask you that,” I say, trying to keep my voice calm even though I’m anything but. I look down at the paper and read the first sentence out loud. “We are happy to welcome your daughter to our school, starting November 6. What the fuck?”

“Why are you reading my mail?” He asks me, the furrow between his eyebrows deepening, anger  in his voice.

I want to throw up. Really?

“I think that’s the least important question here,” I shoot back, and glare at him. “So?” I hold up the letter. “What the fuck is this?”

“Midnights…” he starts, but the breaks himself off and sighs, strolling over to the coffee machine.

“You want some?” He asks, with his back turned to me.

I don’t give him an answer. Just sit still like a fucking good girl and watch him pour himself a cup and then when I still haven’t given him an answer, one for me too.

He puts it down in front of me and then walks around the counter to sit down on the chair next to me and takes a few sips of his coffee.

I don’t even touch mine.

“See,” he says after what feels like hours of silence stretching out between us, “I got this offer for a really good job in Swift City and-“

I don’t even let him finish speaking. “And what? You just threw our entire lives away because of that!?”

He runs a hand through his hair, his face twisted in exasperation. “I didn’t… You know that’s not what this is.”

“THEN WHAT IS IT?” I’m nearly screaming now, the anger taking hold of me.

He sighs, shaking his head, and suddenly he looks so tired and much older than he really is, but I can’t fully register any of those fleeting thoughts through the haze of anger that clouds my mind. “I’m just trying to do the best for us, Midnights.”

“And how the fuck is moving back to fucking Pennsylvania the best for us!?” I fire back. “And to that damn town, too. I don’t want to go back there! You can’t just… You can’t just fucking decide to move across the country and then not even tell me until, what, like two weeks before? I have a life too, you know? I have friends here. I can’t just fucking leave them out of nowhere!”

It’s a lie. It’s all a big fucking lie.

I can’t even remember the last time I actually hung out with my “friends”.

The last time I didn’t make a last-second decision to just ghost them.

But he doesn’t have to know that.

“I know,” he says, turning his coffee mug in his hands, suddenly very interested in the boring pattern on it. “And I’m sorry, Midnights, I really am. But this is for the best.”

I open my mouth to say something, to scream at him again, but before I can, he lifts his hand in a stop it gesture, and finally looks me in the eyes. “See, I didn’t mean for you to find out like this. I wanted to tell you myself and…”

I shake my head. I don’t want to hear this anymore. “And when exactly were you going to tell me?”

He hesitates for a moment, then just sighs. “I don’t know… probably tomorrow. I just wanted you to have a nice birthday, without having to worry about this stuff. I’m sorry, Midnights. I didn’t even know for sure if everything would work out until last week.”

I push back my chair and get up and walk past him, keeping my eyes straight ahead, and leave the kitchen without another word.

I’m so done with this bullshit.

Once I’m inside my room, I slam the door shut as loudly as I can. It probably wakes up one or two of our neighbors, but, at the moment, I honestly couldn’t care less. They can complain about it all they want – in a few weeks I’ll be gone anyway.

I slide down onto the floor, leaning my back against the cool wood of the door and close my eyes for a second. It’s in moments like these that I wish I had the key to my room, so that I could lock my dad out. He never really tries to come inside, either way, but it would still be nice to just be able to completely shut him out.

I try to calm myself down, to just breathe in, breathe through, breathe deep, breathe out.

After a moment, I notice that the letters are still tucked into the pocket of my jacket, the edges slightly cutting into my skin.

I take them out and just sit there, staring at them for a moment, trying to decide what to do with them. Eventually, I just take the money and stuff it into my desk drawer, then put the birthday card into the paper bin and climb onto my bed to open the window. The cold night breeze feels nice on my heated skin, and I hop outside, landing safely on the asphalt, mom’s letter still in my hand. Having my bedroom window almost on ground level comes in really handy from time to time.

I quickly make my way down the small alley behind our apartment, and only stop under the eaves of a house that seems far enough away so that my dad won’t be able to see me, in case he looks out of his window.

I crouch down and put the letter onto the somewhat still dry asphalt underneath the eaves, then reach into my jeans’ pocket and get out my lighter, using my free hand to shield the small flame from the wind, as I set fire to the paper.

I watch the letter burn to ashes right there, as the midnight rain keeps falling down all around me.

I don’t need those meaningless words. Don’t need her.

Or my dad, for that matter.

In that moment I feel utterly, hopelessly alone. And even though I keep telling myself that it’ll be okay, part of me really, really doubts that.

I can’t go back there. Can’t go back to the city I grew up in, the city I left behind when I was seven years old, can’t pretend everything’s going to be all right when everything is already so wrong.

When most of the memories I have of that place just include screaming and fights and endless tears, packed bags and trying to understand.

But I was just a kid.

I couldn’t have possibly understood any of it back then.

Do you really wanna know where I was April 29^th?

When I climb back inside through my window, everything is still quiet, so dad probably didn’t notice that I left again. It’s not like it matters anyway. Not really.

The floor is littered in laundry, posters I meant to put up but then didn’t, stacks of vinyls and threads and pearls for making friendship bracelets everywhere.

I kneel down and start to pick up some of them – random letters that once probably were meant to spell out some song I like, before they somehow ended up on the floor. I put them down on my desk and then stand on top of my chair to reach the stack of boxes I keep on top of my wardrobe. I quickly locate the transparent plastic bags in which I keep most of my DIY stuff in the top box. When I take them out, a photo that was hidden underneath the bags catches my eye.

A much younger version of myself is looking back at me through the camera, a big smile on her face, her arms wrapped around a woman who looks pretty much like an older version of me, the only difference that the braids in her hair are missing.

I put the bags back into the box and close the lock as fast as I can.

I don’t want to fucking have to see her ever again.

She ruined everything.

Fucking everything.

I leave the boxes there on my desk and just lay down on my bed, staring at the ceiling, the glow-in-the-dark-stars that have been there since I was a kid blinking down at me.

I don’t know why I even still have that photo. Maybe because it’s the only one I have from when I was a kid. Well, aside from the one that I know lies on the very bottom of that same box. The one that shows me standing in a garden with my back-then best friend and two other girls. I think it was taken on her seventh or eighth birthday, after we spent the whole day running around in the woods.

I should probably just throw them away already.

It’s pointless to still keep them, to still try and hold on, when all those photos ever do is make me want to cry. Every single time I see one of them.

But I can’t.

I can’t just throw them into the bin.

I draw the curtains closed and quickly change into my pajamas, then grab my notebook and a pen from my desk and sit down on my bed, with my back against the wall, my thought racing.

This town was once a nightmare I wanted to escape. I had plans after plans about some great escape, about leaving as soon as I possibly could. The day I turned eighteen I was going to pack my bags and get the hell out of here. I didn’t choose this town. Never wanted to move here in the first place.

But I didn’t choose moving back to Swift City either. And now I’ll probably have to go through the exact same shit all over again.

I flip my notebook open to a blank page and start to scribble down some lines, then cross them out and start over from the beginning.

Summer went away, still the yearning stays

I play it cool with the best of them…

I don’t even realize I’m crying until I taste the salt on my lips.

The time ticks by and soon it’s nearing three AM, the tears on my cheeks dried, and the pages of my notebook littered with word after word after word, some lines crossed out, others highlighted, small doodles in-between paragraphs. I put it down on the mattress and grab my headphones from the nightstand, putting them on, and then check my phone.

Still no call. Not even a message.

Obviously.

I put on my favorite songs playlist and reach over to turn off the light. Then just lay there in the dark, staring up at the blurred outlines of the faintly glowing plastic stars, while my headphones blast Lorde’s Liability on full volume.

Chapter Text

- Debut -

„HAPPY BIRTHDAY!“

Fearless throws her arms around me, and pulls me into a hug, nearly throwing both of us off balance and making me laugh. “Aww, thanks.”

She starts to make her way down the road, pulling me along with her, “So, obviously I got you the best present ever but Speak Now has it, so you’ll have to wait until after school.”

I frown at her. “Why does Speak Now have it?”

“Cause she bought it, stupid,” Fearless says, and turns around to walk backwards instead, looking at me. “Oh, but I did get you this, too.”

She fishes an envelope out of her jacket pocket and holds it up in front of me. I reach out and snatch it away from her, looking at the front where she’s written my name in blue glitter gel pen, and drawn little butterflies all around it. I rip open the envelope and take out the piece of cardboard paper that is inside. On one side there are two smiling stickmen, holding hands. They look a lot like me and Fearless if we were stickmen – with the Debut one even wearing a cowboy hat. Above the stickmen it says Best friends forever!!! and on the other side of the card, Fearless has written Happy birthday!!!!!!!!!!!!! Ur amazing I love u!!!!!!!!!!!!! in cursive letters.

I look up at her and smile. “Aww, this is so cute. Love you too.”

She grins. “Come on, we have to hurry, or we’ll be late for school.”

About two hours later, Fearless, Abigail and I sit in one of the common rooms, when someone covers my eyes with their hands from behind.

I grin. “Hi, Speak Now.”

She drops her hands and grins back at me, walking around the couch and hugging me. “Happy Birthday!”

“Thank you.”

She pulls back, looking down at me, her green eyes shining, and pats my head. “You’re growing so fast.”

I glare at her. “Oh my God, can y’all please stop acting like I’m a baby?”

She grins and flops down on the couch next to me. “Nope.”

“Happy Birthday, Debut,” Red says, sitting down in the armchair between our couch and the one on which Fearless and Abigail are sitting.

I smile at her. “Thanks.”

For a moment, I consider asking her to come along to my place with the others this afternoon, but then I remember that her and Fearless don’t really get along, so I keep my mouth shut.

I honestly don’t understand why they don’t like each other, though – Fearless is literally my best friend, so I guess I don’t really have to explain anything there, and I don’t really know Red that well, but to me she seems kind enough.

“Hey, when does your last lesson end today, again?” Speak Now asks, looking from me to Fearless and Abigail and then back again.

“We have math until three thirty,” Fearless says already before I’ve even managed to go through my schedule in my mind.

I groan. “I can’t believe I have to have math class on my birthday! That’s so unfair.”

“As if you ever even do your exercises in math class,” Fearless says, a small grin on her face. “You’re always just writing lyrics in your notes instead of paying attention.”

I shrug. “Yeah? Cause math is boring.”

Speak Now glances at the clock and then gets up. “I’ve gotta go, my physics class starts in, like, two minutes. But I’ll see you guys after school?”

“Yeah, of course,” I say. “We’ll wait for you outside.”

_____________

- Fearless -

“Hi, girls!”

I turn around at the sound of someone calling after us, to find an older woman heading toward us. She waves, and Debut immediately lifts her hand to wave back. “Hi, Mary!” she calls.

The woman – Mary – stops in front of us and pulls Debut into a hug. “Happy birthday! Here, I made some cookies for you.” She hands Debut one of those small plastic bags for cakes and stuff, that is stuffed full with as many chocolate chip cookies as it could possibly fit. Then she looks at me, Abigail and Speak Now. “And those are your friends?”

Debut nods. “Yeah, we’re gonna hang out for a while.”

Mary smiles at us. “Oh, how nice. Have fun, girls.” With that she retreats back to what I assume must be her house.

“Thank you!” Debut calls after her. “And thank you so much for the cookies!”

“She’s your neighbor?” Speak Now asks as we’re heading down the field path to the farm Debut lives on. “The one you wrote that song about a while ago?”

Debut nods. “Yeah, that’s her.”

Liz is already waiting by the fence that surrounds the farm, barking and wagging her tail when she sees us. Debut opens the gate and then bends down to pet her dog. She looks up at us. “Y’all can go to the barn and wait for me inside, I’ll just go and grab some stuff from the house, but I’ll be back in a sec.”

“Okay, sure,” Abigail says and crouches down to pet Liz, while I close the gate behind us.

“I still can’t believe she lives on a literal farm,” Speak Now says once Debut is heading for the house, Liz running after her with her tail still wagging from excitement.

I laugh. “Yeah, it’s a bit crazy. Do you have the present?”

Speak Now nods. “It’s in my bag. Should we get going…?”

“Sure.”

We walk to the barn together, which is only about a hundred yards away from the gate, and Speak Now opens the back door, holding it for me and Abigail.

“Thanks,” I say as I slip past her.

Inside a small tractor is parked at one end of the room, with tons of hay bales stacked on top of each other, some grain sacks and other stuff covering the rest of the floor.

I make my way through the hay balls, Abigail and Speak Now behind me, and then start to climb up the ladder that leads up to what used to be a hayloft but is now repurposed into some sort of second bedroom for Debut. From the inside it actually just looks like any normal room built into a loft, with its wooden floor and the wooden walls that her dad built in just this spring, and even a small window on one wall. The ceiling is so high that I can easily stand in most parts of the room, too, and the walls are covered in posters and light chains, which gives the whole room a cozy atmosphere.

Abigail flops down on the old bed that stands in one corner of the room and looks around. “God, I love this place.”

“Me too,” I say, and start to flip through the heap of CDs on the floor. Most of them are country albums – Debut rarely ever listens to any other genres.

“Hey, why the fuck does she have pumpkins up here?” Speak Now asks, popping her head through the hole in the floor. I look around, confused for a second, before I see that one of the wooden boxes next to her bed does indeed contain several pretty big pumpkins.

“No idea,” I say, turning back to her. She heaves herself up and drops her bag to the floor, then sits down next to me. “You guys excited for Halloween?”

Before I can answer her, a small furry creature shoots up through the floor opening and past us, onto the bed.

“Oh, hi Eloise,” Abigail says as the cat makes itself comfortable in her lap.

Debut pops her head up through the floor. “I literally couldn’t get her to stop following me – guess she wanted to say hi to y’all too.”

She sits down next to the floor opening and starts to pull at the end of the rope that is slung through a hook in the floor and functions as some kind of simple pulley. We used it all the time when she started bringing some of the stuff from her bedroom up here, and then during summer break when we hung out here together.

“I got us some lemonade,” Debut says as she heaves up the basket that is tied to the other end of the rope. It’s filled with some plastic mugs and a few bottles of lemonade, as well as the cookies Mary gave her earlier, a chocolate cake, some newspapers and a bunch of sharp knives.

Speak Now frowns. “Okay, so I know you’re a bit psychotic sometimes, but what the fuck do you need all those knives for?”

Debut rolls her eyes. “First of all, I’m not. And second, we need them so that we can carve pumpkins.”

“Oh.” Speak Now’s face lights up. “That’s cool! I love carving pumpkins.”

“Yeah, I figured.” Debut hands her a cup of lemonade and then pours one for me.

“Sooo,” Abigail says, with Eloise still in her lap, “do you want your present first?”

“Sure.” Debut hands her a cup of lemonade and then sits back down, smiling just a bit.

Speak Now opens her bag and gets out our present – it’s a pretty big package, wrapped in green paper and with a few glittering paper butterflies glued to it – Speak Now and I made them and put them there a few days ago. “This is from all of us, together.”

“Thanks.” Debut takes the present and starts to carefully peel off all the butterflies and put them on the floor in a heap in front of her. “These are so pretty.”

Once she’s saved all the butterflies, she carelessly rips open the paper and stares at the cowboy boots in disbelief, her mouth wide open. “You actually got these for me?”

I grin. “As far as I know this isn’t anyone else’s birthday party, so, yes, they must be for you.”

She looks up at me and smiles. “Wow, thanks! Y’all are the best. Seriously.” She hugs me first, and then Speak Now and Abigail.

“I’m glad you like them,” I say.

_____________

- Speak Now -

“Do you guys have any plans for Halloween?” Fearless asks.

“Actually, yeah,” I reply, keeping my eyes on the pumpkin in front of me as I carefully cut out one of the two sharp vampire teeth. “I’m probably gonna have a sleepover with some of my other friends.”

“Can I come, too?” Debut asks and when I look up from my pumpkin, she’s already looking at me with anticipation on her face. “Wait, which friends are you even talking about? Red?”

“Yeah, her, Evermore, Folklore and a few others… You probably don’t really know any of them.”

“Can I still come? Please?”

I laugh. “I guess I could ask them if they’d be okay with that?”

Debut grins at me. “Thanks, you’re the best.”

I put down the knife and get out my phone, opening the group chat 1989 added me and Red to about a week ago, after we were talking about her upcoming birthday party at school.

“Do you two want to come, too?” I ask, looking at Fearless and Abigail. “Or should I just ask for Debut?”

Abigail shakes her head. “I can’t, I already have plans with some friends. But thanks anyway.”

“Okay, Fearless?”

“Ask for her too!” Debut chimes in before Fearless has even opened her mouth to answer. “I don’t wanna be all alone.”

Fearless raises her eyebrows at Debut. “You’re not gonna be all alone. You know Speak Now. And Red, I guess.”

“Still.” Debut attacks her pumpkin with a knife, furiously trying to get the part she just cut out to loosen. She looks up at me for a split second. “How many people are even gonna be there?”

“Um…” Mentally, I do a quick count. Me, Red, Evermore, Folklore, 1989, Lover, Reputation. “Seven, I think? Nine, if you and Fearless come along.”

Debut stares at me. “Seven people!?”

I shrug. “Yeah?”

She turns to Fearless. “You literally have to come, now. There’s no way I’m gonna go to a sleepover with seven people alone. Where I don’t even know anyone.”

“Except you do know two of them,” Fearless says.

Debut rolls her eyes. “That doesn’t count. Speak Now and Red are probably just gonna hang out with each other nonstop and abandon me and then I’d have to talk to those other people that I don’t know, and I’d be all alone, so, actually, you have to come, too.”

Fearless frowns at her. “You do realize that you’re not even invited, yet, right? Maybe they won’t even let you come.”

“Yeah, but if  they say yes, I’d still be all alone,” Debut says. “Please?”

Fearless sighs. “Okay, fine.” She looks over at me. “Can you ask them for me, too?”

“Yeah, of course,” I say, already starting to type out a message.

___

taymerican queens
enchantedfairy, lonelywitch, lostinwonderland, mirrorballcat, misstaymericana17, sadautumngirl, reputaytionsnake13

enchantedfairy: Hey, I was wondering if two of my other friends could also come to our Halloween sleepover?
enchantedfairy: Like, if that would be okay with everyone?

lostinwonderland: Sure I guess?
lostinwonderland: I mean Evermore and Folklore should probably decide lol since it’s their house, but it’s fine with me

misstaymericana17: It’s fine with me too!!
misstaymericana17: What are their names? :)
misstaymericana17: (Just curious if I know them)

enchantedfairy: Debut and Fearless
enchantedfairy: They’re a grade below us

misstaymericana17: Okay!! I don’t think I know them then

lonelywitch: yeah they can come
lonelywitch: folklore is probably never gonna reply to this gc so consider this an ok from her too

enchantedfairy: Okay thnx Evermore
enchantedfairy: @misstaymericana17 Debut is that blonde kid who’s always running around in cowboy boots and talks with a southern accent, pretty sure you’ve seen her at some point

 lostinwonderland: THAT’S Debut????

Misstaymericana17: Ohh, yes I think I’ve seen her at school before :)
Misstaymericana17: She’s such a cutie! <3

enchantedfairy: @lostinwonderland Yep, that’s her!!! She’s a bit weird sometimes but she’s still amazing

lostinwonderland: Yeah ofc!! I’m sorry if that came out wrong lol I didn’t mean it in a mean way or anything, I was just surprised that u knew her

enchantedfairy: It’s okay dw

sadautumngirl: omg yayy debut is coming!!

___

“You’re both officially invited now.” I put down my phone and look at Debut.

She grins at me. “Thanks. Hey, can we do some karaoke?”

Fearless jumps up, already getting her phone out. “Yes! What song do you want?”

Debut picks some country song I’ve never heard before and her and Fearless immediately start to sing along to it, both faking a southern accent – or well, Fearless does. Debut always talks like that anyway.

I look over at Abigail and our eyes meet. She grins and rolls her eyes, then goes back to watching Fearless and Debut perform their song – Fearless using a hairbrush as her microphone while Debut is putting one of the cowboy hats that usually hang on the wall next to the window on her head, and then putting on one, herself, too.

They just look like two silly idiots.

And I seriously love them so much for it.

Once the song is over, Debut bows for us and Abigail starts to clap. I quickly join in, unable to stop grinning. “That was… impressive.”

“Thanks.” Debut beams at me, and then looks at Abigail. “You guys have to choose a song now.”

Abigail shakes her head. “Nah, I’m good. I can’t sing anyway, so I’m just gonna watch-“

Before she’s even finished that sentence, Debut already grabs her hand and is pulling her up. “Aww, come on. It’s gonna be fun.”

Abigail starts to protest, but Debut quickly shuts her up by stealing Fearless’s cowboy hat and putting it on Abigail’s head instead. “Nope. No excuses. I’ll just sing really off-key, too, okay?”

“Which song do you want to sing?” Fearless asks them, her phone already in her hand.

“Put on Highway Don’t Care,” Debut tells her and seconds later the song starts playing.

All three of them start to sing along to it, Debut terribly off-key on purpose, which is kind of funny and super sweet at the same time.

My phone buzzes where it’s lying on the floor with the reference photo for my pumpkin opened, and a new message pops up on the screen.

sadautumngirl: do u already have a halloween costume?
sadautumngirl: ok stupid question u probably do

enchantedfairy: Well technically not yet but I’m probably gonna be a princess
enchantedfairy: Why?

sadautumngirl: idk what to wear :/

enchantedfairy: We could match :)

sadautumngirl: nah there’s no way i’m wearing a gown

enchantedfairy: Yeah I know that
enchantedfairy: But you could dress up as a knight or something
enchantedfairy: Then we’d still kind of match

sadautumngirl: ohhh
sadautumngirl: i’ll think about it
sadautumngirl: thnx babe

enchantedfairy: No problem <3

“Speak Now?”

I turn off my phone, quickly shoving it into my back pocket, my cheeks feeling slightly warm even though it’s actually kind of cold up here, and look up at Debut. She’s watching me, Fearless’s phone in her hand and a smile on her face. The music has stopped.

“It’s your turn to choose a song,” she says.

_____________

- Debut -

“That’s the last one,” Abigail calls down from above, and slowly lowers the basket of my make-shift pulley to the ground. I give her a thumbs-up and take the pumpkin that is inside – Speak Now’s vampire cat – and then wait for Abigail to come down the ladder. We go outside, to where Fearless and Speak Now are already waiting with the other three pumpkins, as well as some tea lights and a pack of matches they got from inside.

I put Speak Now’s pumpkin down next to the others and she puts a tea light inside it, then strikes a match to light it. The other pumpkins are already glowing faintly in the last sunlight of the evening.

“They look so pretty together,” Fearless says, pulling her jacket tighter around herself. “We should come back later and see how they look when it’s actually dark.”

“Yeah,” I say and grin at her. “I definitely need to see your pumpkin’s weird face in the dark.”

She tries to throw a left-over tea light at me, missing by just a few inches, but there’s a grin on her face, too. “Oh, shut up.”

I shrug. “What, you said it was weird yourself.”

She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, well, just cause everyone isn’t as good at carving pumpkins as Speak Now, doesn’t mean-“

“I think your pumpkin looks pretty, too,” Speak Now chimes in before Fearless can finish whatever she was gonna say. “It’s… interesting. I like the eyes.”

Fearless raises her eyebrows at her. “You’re not even trying to act like you mean it.”

Speak Now shrugs, a grin slipping onto her lips. “Aww, come on. It’s cute.” She gets out her phone and snaps a photo of our pumpkins, then turns to look at me. “Oh, right. Your mom said we should come inside for dinner once we’re done here.”

Chapter Text

- Lover -

Reputation and 1989 are already waiting in 1989’s car when I get there, Reputation on her phone while 1989 is reapplying her red lipstick in the rearview mirror. When I approach the car, she looks over at me and gives me a small wave.

I smile back at her and open the back door, carefully setting down the cake box that I was carrying on the backseat, before I hop into the car myself. “Hey,” I say.

“Hi, Lover.” 1989 puts away her lipstick and readjusts the rearview mirror, then starts the engine.

Reputation turns around in the passenger seat and looks at me, her lips curling upwards in a small smile. “Hi.”

It’s crazy to think that just a few weeks ago she literally despised me.

I grin back at her. “Excited for autumn break?”

She shrugs. “I guess? No more stupid assignments. And autumn break’s always a good excuse to party, so…”

1989 coughs, glancing over at Reputation for a split second before her eyes go back to the road. “Remember how Evermore and I literally had to drag you to that last party we went to?”

“That was different.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Reputation glares at her, and, in spite of myself, I have to smile. She’s kind of adorable when she gets all worked up about something. Not that I’d ever tell her, though.

“I was just in a bad mood.”

1989 raises one eyebrow. “Aren’t you always, though?”

“Shut up.”

She grins. “Yeah, I thought so. By the way, I already started to put up some decorations before school, but I haven’t gotten that much done yet...” She takes a turn left, glancing at me in the rearview mirror for just a split-second. “I don’t think my dad would be so happy about me throwing a party in his house and he only left for LA this morning, so… yeah.”

“That’s okay,” I say, giving her a small smile. “We’ll help you get everything done in time.”

Her eyes meet mine again in the rearview mirror, and she smiles. “Thanks, Lover. You guys really are the best.”

It’s only about a ten-minute drive to 1989’s place, and when we get there, I can barely believe what I’m seeing. “You live in a mansion?”

Reputation looks at me, a funny expression on her face. “You’ve never been to 1989’s?”

I shake my head, unbuckling my seatbelt before I grab the cupcakes and open my car door. “Nope, I haven’t.”

1989 sighs and gets out of the car. “It’s not really a mansion,” she says. “More like, a reeeeally big house?”

I shrug. “Pretty much looks like a mansion to me.”

Reputation and I follow her to the front door and then inside.

“You can just leave your bags here, for now,” 1989 says, gesturing to the coat rack. “We’ll put them away later.” She vanishes through a door further down the hall, leaving me alone with Reputation.

I take off my jacket and leave it there alongside my backpack, then grab my cupcakes from a nearby shelf and look at Reputation. “Are we supposed to wait here, or…?”

“Come on.” She takes off down the hall and opens a door – a different one than the one 1989 went through earlier – and holds it for me.

“Thanks,” I mouth, as I slip past her into the kitchen, and then put the cupcakes down on the counter.

When I turn back around, she’s still standing in the doorway, watching me.

I smile at her. “Should we go and look for 1989?”

“Rep? Lover?” 1989 calls from down the hall only a second later. “Are you guys coming?”

Reputation smiles just the tiniest bit. “Guess we won’t have to.”

We find 1989 in the living room, which – just like the rest of her house – is huge. And when I say huge, I mean huge.

She stands between two expensive-looking couches and holds up a blue  Happy Birthday garland for us to see. “Can one of you help me put this up on the wall over there?” she asks, nodding her head at the far wall. “And also with decorating the rest of the room?”

“Yeah, of course,” I say, quickly glancing over at Reputation before I start to make my way past the heaps of garlands, fairy lights and other decorations on the floor.

“Thanks, Lover.” 1989 hands me the garland and then goes to grab some tape and a pair of scissors from the coffee table, before she stops and looks over at Reputation. “Hey, could you start to set up a table for the food and drinks? I think most of the stuff is already in the kitchen, and I’ll just get the rest there later.”

“Okay.” Reputation leaves the room without saying anything more. Which – to be fair – is just what she does most of the time.

I turn to 1989. “What do you want me to do?”

“Just hold that up to the wall,” she says, nodding her head at the garland while she cuts a strip of tape, “yeah, no, a bit higher.”

I adjust the garlands position on the wall, almost having to stand on my tiptoes to reach up long enough, and 1989 nods in approval. She reaches up and tapes the garland to the wall, then takes a step back to look at it. “Okay, now the other end.”

I grab hold of the garland’s other end and hold it up to where 1989 is pointing. When she’s happy with the position, she grabs the scissors once again.

“Hey, Lover?” she asks while she’s cutting off a strip of the roll of tape that I’m holding. “Can I ask you something?”

I glance over at her, slightly confused about the question. “Yeah, of course.”        

She presses the tape down with her thumbnail. “Okay. Sorry in advance if I’m completely off here, but… are you and Rep, like, dating?”

I almost drop the roll of tape, feeling heat rise to my cheeks. “What?” I choke out. “No. God, no. Why would you even think that?”

1989 shrugs, letting go of the garland. “I don’t know… You two just seem to be getting along really well with each other, all of a sudden, so I guess I just thought that maybe…”

“Nope.” I shake my head, taking a step back to look at the garland, my cheeks still warm. “We’re not… I mean… I guess we do get along, but we’re just friends.”

When I glance over at her, there’s a tiny smile on her face. “Okay. I’m sorry for just assuming…”

“It’s alright,” I tell her. It’s not like she’s the first one to assume that anyway. “What else needs to be done?”

_____________

- Folklore -

“Are you coming?” Evermore asks, opening the door to my room just a bit. The moment she catches sight of me, her expression turns into pure disbelief, mixed with reproach. “You haven’t even changed yet!?”

I pull my knees up against my body and put my book down on the bed next to me, sighing. “I’m not going.”

With an exaggerated roll of her eyes, Evermore steps inside, closing the door behind her. “Why not?”

“Because…” I hesitate, playing with a loose thread on the sleeve of my old grey cardigan. “I… just don’t really think I’d fit in there, you know? Like, I’m not sure if I’m even really invited.”

Evermore doesn’t respond right away, so after a few seconds I look up, finally meeting her eyes.

“But you are invited. 1989 literally said that all of us were.”

I shrug. “I guess… But she probably only said that because it would’ve been mean to only invite the people she actually wants to come.”

Evermore sighs and crosses the room, then pulls the doors of my wardrobe open. “That’s bullshit, Folklore. You’re invited and you are coming. No more excuses.”

“I don’t even have a present for her.”

Evermore turns around, throwing her hands into the air, an exasperated look on her face. “Do you even have any party clothes?” Then, with a calmer voice, she adds, “We’ll just write both our names on the present I got for her.”

“Okay…” I don’t even really want to go. But I know that there’s no point in trying to argue with Evermore when she’s set her mind to something. “ But can’t I just wear this?”

She looks down at the clothes I’m currently wearing and frowns. “Nope. That’s definitely not a party outfit.”

With a sigh, I get up and walk over to her, then pull a flowery dress out of my closet. “What about this, then?”

She eyes it for a moment, then nods. “I guess… if that’s the best we can do right now. But you seriously need to buy some party outfits.”

I shoot her a look, but she’s too busy picking out a cardigan for me to wear with the dress, to even bother. When she’s found one, she hands it to me. “Now get dressed. And then we’ll have to fix your hair too.”

_____________

- Lover -

I check my reflection in the mirror above the sink one more time, just to make sure that my makeup and hair are still fully intact. Then, I grab my bag from the bathroom floor and step back outside, into the hall, to join the others.

The second Red sees me, her smile widens, and she quickly pulls me into a hug, before she proceeds to take off her scarf and jacket. Speak Now is right behind her, purple hat still on, her curls for once falling freely over her shoulders, holding a present in her hand. I wave at her and then turn to 1989. “Can I put my bag into your room now?”

“Yeah, of course.” She nods at the stack of boxes in her arms – which I guess probably contains the food Red was going to make. “Can you take this into the kitchen and set it up? I was gonna bring Rep’s bag upstairs anyway, so I can take yours too.”

“Okay.” I accept the boxes and hand her my backpack in return, only now noticing that she indeed also has been holding Reputation’s bag. “Thanks.”

She gives me a quick smile. “No problem.”

I make my way down the hall, with Red and Speak Now on my heels, and step into the kitchen. Reputation glances over at us when we step inside, her eyeliner somehow looking even sharper than before.

She’s changed into a new outfit, too: A black long sleeve shirt that slightly slips off one of her shoulders, a – also black – pair of shorts which she’s wearing over fishnet tights and black boots. And her lips are painted a dark red now, which, to be honest, looks really good on her – almost too good.

She turns back to packs of the paper plates and plastic mugs she’s been unwrapping, and I snap out of it and look away, my cheeks feeling warm, and put down the plastic boxes that 1989 gave me on the table.

“Are we the only ones here yet?” Speak Now asks, looking around the room. “Jeez, 1989’s dad really is rich.”

“Evermore and Folklore are in the living room,” Reputation says without looking up, “they arrived a few minutes before you.”

“Okay.” Speak Now says. Then, addressing Red, she asks, “Wanna go and see what they’re up to?”

“Sure.” Red turns to me. “Is it okay if we go, or did you guys want any help with setting up stuff in here?”

I smile at her. “No, it’s alright. We’re almost done anyway.”

The next moment, Speak Now has already grabbed her hand and is pulling her out into the hallway, their voices slowly fading away.

I turn to Reputation. “Um, did we already get the drinks from 1989’s room, too? Or should I…?”

She shakes her head, unwrapping the last pack of plastic cups. “No, 1989 already got them.” She puts the cups down on the table and then looks at me, a small smile on her lips.

“You look really pretty,” she says after a moment, her voice just a tad quieter than usual. And – unlike the time she called me cute at that other party back in September – there’s nothing but pure honesty in her voice, now.

“Oh.” I look down at the dress I’m wearing, feeling my cheeks grow warm at her words. “Thank you.” Reputation actually thinks I’m pretty??? I give her a smile, my thoughts racing as I try to find something to say to her, try to come up with a compliment I could give her. It’s all either too much or not enough.

She looks back at me with that same smile still on her lips, and for a few seconds, we just stand there like that, both of us silently smiling at each other.

“You look pretty, too,” I eventually settle on, before the silence gets too long.

“Thanks.” Her voice is half drowned out by the sound of the doorbell ringing.

“Guess the party’s getting started, then,” I say, and a moment later we can already hear the happy chatter of voices from the hallway.

“Yep.”

“I’m gonna go and look for the others,” I say, starting to leave before I turn around again to look at Reputation. “Wanna come?”

“No…” Her smile is gone and that usual unreadable expression back on her face, and I can’t help but wonder why she constantly is putting up walls around herself, locking me out – whether it’s her intention or not. “You go ahead.”

For a moment, I hesitate. Then I just nod and turn around, leaving her there in the kitchen.

_____________

- Folklore -

I hate parties.

It’s about the millionth time that I think that tonight. And it’s only been about two hours since Evermore and I got here – maybe forty-five minutes since most other people arrived and the party really started.

Yet, Evermore is probably already wasted somewhere on the dance floor, having fun, enjoying herself. Just like everyone else here. Well, except for me, that is.

I stand by the side, clutching the plastic cup Evermore gave to me before she and 1989 disappeared maybe half an hour ago in one hand, and watch the people on the dance floor.

“Hey!” Speak Now shouts over the music, and stops next to me, leaning her head against the wall. It’s too dark in here to really tell – the only lights come from those colorful electric disco balls – but I’m pretty sure her cheeks are red, and she’s slightly out of breath from dancing.  She blows a strand of hair out of her face and looks at me, her eyebrows drawn together. “You alright?”

“Yeah.” I force a smile. “You?”

She smiles back at me. “Yeah, I’m good. Just a little out of breath.”

“Hey, have you seen Evermore?” I ask her, scanning the room for my sister while I talk. But there’s too many people in here for me to be able to make out anyone in the crowd.

Speak Now shakes her head. “No, last time I saw her was like… half an hour ago, maybe?”

She turns around when someone wraps their arms around her from behind, a grin quickly taking over her face. “Hi!”

“Hey,” Red replies, letting go of Speak Now to stand beside her instead. “I found you.” Then, she turns to me. “Oh, hi, Folklore.”

“Hi.” I force another smile. I need to get out of here. “If you guys don’t mind, I think I’m gonna go get some water.”

“Of course,” Speak Now says, her eyes dropping to the drink in my hand. “Are you gonna drink that?”

I shake my head.

“Can I…?”

“Yeah.” I hand her my cup and then leave.

When I’ve almost reached the kitchen door, I run into Lover. The moment she sees me, a worried expression appears on her face, a frown forming between her eyebrows. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” I press out. Why does everyone keep asking me that? “I was just gonna go get some water.”

Unlike with Speak Now, her expression stays the same – if anything, she looks even more worried. “Do you want me to come along?”

I shake my head. “No, it’s alright. You go have fun.” I force myself to give her the happiest smile I can muster right now, when really, I just feel like crying. “I think Speak Now and Red are still over there somewhere–“ I nod my head in the direction where I left them “–if you were looking for them.”

“Okay… Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yes… Really,” I add when she still shows no intention of moving.

“Okay. But let me know if you need anything.” She gives me one more worried look, and then she’s gone.

I enter the kitchen, trying my best to ignore the girls that are standing in a corner, talking to each other in hushed voices. It’s a bit quieter out here, even if the music is still way too loud, and though the ceiling light is dimmed, at least it isn’t turned off completely.

I grab myself a new plastic mug from the table and fill it with water from the tab, then look around, not really wanting to stay in the kitchen while there are other people here, too. But there’s absolutely no way I’m going back into the living room right now, either. I just want to be alone for a few minutes.

I open the other door and slip out into the hallway. Of course, the bathroom door is locked. And as if that isn’t enough already, there are at least five other people further down the hall, too. Great. For a while, I just stand there and wait for whoever is inside the bathroom to finish what they’re doing. But when nothing happens, I eventually give up. I don’t really need to use the bathroom anyway.

My eyes wander down the hall, stopping on the stairs. There’s some sort of barrier tape put up between the banister and the wall. 1989 must have put it there earlier to keep people from going upstairs – I vaguely remember her telling us to make sure that everyone stays on this floor.

But…

I turn around to check if the people down the hall are watching me, but they all seem to be too busy with themselves to even have noticed my presence.

Before I’ve really thought it through, I’m already slipping past the barrier tape, my heart pounding fast in my chest as I quickly climb the stairs. I keep telling myself that this is nothing to worry about – I just need a quiet place where I can be on my own for a while and, right now, the hall upstairs seems like the perfect place for that. 1989 is probably never going to find out about this anyway.

The hallway is just as long as the one downstairs, with at least half a dozen closed doors. But one of them half-open, soft light streaming out into the hallway. “Hello?” I ask into the silence. Everything stays still, the only sound the muffled music and voices from downstairs.

My curiosity taking over, I make my way down the hall and stop in front of the half-opened door, to peek inside.

The room is about as big as our living room at home – if not even bigger – but seems to be a bedroom.
Hesitantly, I step inside.

It sort of feels like I’m breaking in somewhere.

Calm down, I tell myself and turn around, taking in the room as a whole. The walls are a pretty pastel blue that’s so light it almost could’ve passed as white. Big windows cover most of the wall that is opposite of the door, while the wall over the bed is covered in posters of various singers and actors out of which I only recognize a few.

To my left is a shelf that stretches across half of the wall in length but is only a few feet high. Most of the tiny shelves are stacked with CDs, but in one shelf further down, I can make out some books. I crouch down to read the titles on the spines, just to find that most of them are various editions of Alice In Wonderland – both, the original edition and newer children picture book versions. I can’t help but smile at that.

On the top shelf sit a TV and a CD player, and the wall above the shelf is covered in at least a hundred polaroids that are hung along several rows of light chains.

I step closer to take a look at them, trying my best to ignore the gnawing feeling in my stomach. The photo that first catches my attention shows two girls smiling into the camera, their arms around each other. I’m pretty sure the one on the right is 1989, but I don’t recognize the other one – her hair is bleached and she’s wearing some black jacket that admittedly makes her look pretty cool.

The next photo shows Evermore and Reputation, both of them half-frowning at the camera. It looks so much like them, I can’t help but smile. Next to that one, there’s a photo that shows a young woman holding a baby in her arms. For a moment, I’m convinced the woman is 1989, but the handwritten date at the bottom of the polaroid makes me discard that thought immediately. The resemblance is stunning, though – they have the same face, and the exact same black hair. The next photo shows the same woman, this time with a girl who looks a lot like a younger version of 1989. Then, there’s a selfie of 1989 and the blonde girl from the first picture, another photo of them and a couple other people sitting in a park, one of Evermore and 1989 making silly faces at the camera…

“What the hell are you doing here?”

_____________

- Reputation -

It’s fairly easy to spot Lover in the crowd. In her pastel pink dress – which pops out against the dark clothes that most other people here are wearing – she kind of looks like she belongs in a fairytale, rather than a high school party like this.

I start to make my way through the crowd, heading straight for where she’s standing near the door, talking to Red and Speak Now.

A new song starts to play through the speakers, the music so loud now that it’s practically impossible to ignore anymore.

Walk in your rainbow paradise
Strawberry lipstick state of mind
I get so lost inside your eyes
Would you believe it?

I try to tell myself that the only reason the lyrics immediately make me think of her is because I was already looking at her when the song started playing, try not to think about how, when she walked back into the kitchen after getting changed earlier, I tried to play it cool by looking away and pretending like I hadn’t even really noticed her, when, in reality, the one clear thought in my mind was something along the lines of Holy shit, she’s so beautiful.

A smile lights up Lover’s face the moment she catches sight of me. “Hi!” she shouts over the music.

“Hi,” I reply, unable to stop myself from smiling back at her. There’s just something about her smile that makes me forget myself completely. “Having fun so far?”

She nods. “Yeah. The music is really good, too – I love this song!”

Of course she does.

Red grimaces at her words. “The whole playlist is literally just like ninety percent Harry Styles and Sabrina Carpenter.”

Lover frowns at her. “Yeah, but they’re good.”

Red shrugs. “Sure. But I wanna listen to girl in red.” She turns to me. “Do you have any idea where 1989 is?”

I shake my head. “Nope. Haven’t seen her in a while.”

“Okay.” Red tugs at Speak Now’s sleeve. “Come on, I have to find her and convince her to let me DJ.”

The other girl starts to protest, but before she’s even finished the first sentence, Red has already pulled her out of earshot from us and their bickering is drowned out by the music.

I look back at Lover. “Wanna dance?”

As soon as they’ve left my lips, I want to take the words back again. What the hell am I thinking?

“Yeah. Sure, why not?” Lover gives me a smile and then grabs my hand, her touch featherlight on my skin as she pulls me onto the dance floor.

She spins around, so that she’s face-to-face with me, and starts swaying to the music, her hand still wrapped around mine, my heart beating just a bit faster than normal.

She looks at me with a smile on her lips; the colored disco lights moving over her face, and getting caught in her hair, making it shimmer like a halo.

“I don’t really know how to dance,” I admit, keeping my voice quiet enough so that only she can hear me.

She laughs. “That’s okay. Me neither, to be honest.”

I smile at her; and feel myself slowly starting to relax into her presence, the party around us fading away into my subconsciousness.

Before I even know it, my hands have somehow found their way around her waist and I’m swaying along with her. The lights reflect in her eyes like small stars, and she smiles at me, the music infiltrating my thoughts, impossible to ignore.

You don’t have to say you love me
I just wanna tell you something
Lately, you’ve been on my mind

Lover spins around as the chorus comes on, and then comes back to face me, a big grin on her face while her lips move along to the words of the song, her cheeks flushed, making me wish I could turn the music down and listen to her voice instead.

Eventually, the song comes to an end, and a slower one starts to play instead. I look at Lover, her eyes meeting mine for just a second, and, before I can change my mind again, I ask–

“Do you wanna get out of here?”

_____________

- 1989 -

“Nice party!”

“Thank you.” I force myself to smile at the girl – Amy? – even though I don’t really feel like talking to her right now. I honestly have no idea what she’s even doing here, seeing as we aren’t friends or anything.

My phone buzzes in my pocket and I can practically feel the smile that is pulling at my lips when I see who the message is from.

karmaisreal: So how’s your party going so far?

I quickly excuse myself from the girl, and slip out into the hallway, sitting down on a window ledge. It’s nice and quiet out here, in comparison to inside the living room, and the cool air is a welcome refreshment on my heated skin.

lostinwonderland: It’s going great I think!!
lostinwonderland: I wish you could be here too tho

karmaisreal: Yeah me too

lostinwonderland: I miss you

karmaisreal: Miss u too
karmaisreal: Now get off ur phone and hang out with your friends
karmaisreal: You can still talk to me later you know ;)

lostinwonderland: But I wanna talk to u nowww

karmaisreal: Youre a dork
karmaisreal Now get back to your party

lostinwonderland: Okay fiiiiine
lostinwonderland: Can we facetime later tonight tho?

karmaisreal: Sure

lostinwonderland: Yay!!!

karmaisreal: Bye bye

lostinwonderland: Byeeee

I stare at the phone in my hand, feeling that dumb smile that I always get when I’m talking to her still on my face. Before I really know what I’m doing, my fingers are already moving over the keys, typing out another message. I pause for a second and stare at the little green dot that tells me that she’s still there, on the other end, waiting.

Then I press send.

Sit there and wait, my heart beating fast.

Nothing happens.

lostinwonderland: I love you

I try to close our chat and then reopen it, to reload the page, but still there’s no response. That green dot right next to her profile picture is still there, but beneath the message it just says Seen.

I check my internet connection – even get up and walk down the hall to see if something’s wrong with it, but nothing changes.

I feel like I can’t breathe.

lostinwonderland: Karma?

Seen. Still no response.

I desperately wait for those three little dots to appear, to indicate that she isn’t ignoring me, that she’s going to say it back.

She has to say it back, right?

lostinwonderland: I said I love you

Seen. Again.

And then the green dot disappears.

I check my internet connection again, tears blurring my vision as it all starts to sink in.

She didn’t say it back. Didn’t say anything.

Because she doesn’t love me.

I lean my back against the wall, feeling unsteady as I clutch my phone in both hands. My chest feels too tight and suddenly I wish I would’ve just shut up.

“1989?” Someone shouts from down the hall. “Where did you go?”

Before they can get the idea to look for me out here, I grab my plastic mug from the window ledge and start to sprint up the stairs, barely seeing where I’m going anymore through my tears. I don’t have to, though – I know the way to my room by heart.

The door is still half open, the room dimly lit thanks to the fairy lights on my walls – just like I left it when was in a hurry to get downstairs and greet my guests, earlier tonight.

For maybe the first time today, I can breathe out. At least I’ll be left in peace up here, won’t have to put up with any annoying drunk teens or make polite small talk or-

I stop dead in my tracks, one foot on the doorstep to my room.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Folklore whirls around, her eyes wide, as if she’s surprised that I’m here. In my own room.

“I told you not to go upstairs.”

“I- I know,” she stammers. “I’m really sorry, I was just trying to find a quiet place and…” She drifts off, her eyes roaming over my face, as if she only now notices my tear-stained cheeks. “Are you okay?”

I reach up with my free hand and wipe away my tears. “I… Yeah.”

“Are you sure?” She asks, her voice quiet, almost a bit insecure. Like she’s scared of saying something wrong. “I… I can get Evermore or Reputation if you want me to?”

I shake my head, sinking onto the floor with my plastic cup still clutched in one hand, and lean my back against the CD shelf, fighting to hold back more tears. “I don’t want to talk to them about this… Please just go away.”

“Okay…” She’s still looking at me, her eyebrows scrunched together like she’s worried about me. “I’ll just… leave then…? And sorry again for going into your room, I really didn’t mean to.”

I squeeze my eyes shut and wish she would just go away so that I can… Well, what exactly? Sit in my room and cry like a baby for the rest of the night, then proceed to drown in my own tears?

Wow, what a great way to spend your seventeenth birthday.

“Folklore, wait.” I say, forcing myself to open my eyes again; my cheeks are still wet, and my head is throbbing with pain and I’m pretty sure that I look like shit, but I can’t really bring myself to care about any of that anymore.

She’s already halfway out the door, but turns back at my words, a questioning expression on her face.

“Don’t… don’t go,” I choke out. “Please.”

She doesn’t say anything, just stays completely still for a few seconds, her silhouette blurred through my tears. Then, she steps back inside my room and sits down on the floor next to me, taking the plastic mug out of my shaking hands as I pull my knees up against my chest and lean my head against them, my body shaking with silent sobs as I try to shut out the bitter reality that comes crashing down on me; the voices inside my head that try to talk me down, just like they always do.

Your girlfriend doesn’t love you back.

Folklore’s voice is still quiet, barely even there, when she says, “I’m here for you if you want to talk about it.”

And for once, I actually do.

_____________

- Lover -

“Wanna get out of here?”

I look up at the sound of Reputation’s voice, slightly confused about her question, but unable to stop myself from smiling anyway. “Um… sure?”

She drops her hands from my waist and turns around, starting to make her way across the room; I hurry to catch up with her, grabbing her hand so that I won’t lose her in the crowd. At the touch of my fingers against hers, she glances back at me over her shoulder, her expression unreadable for a moment, before a small smile slips onto her lips.

I’m not sure what to make of the way my heart flutters inside my chest whenever she smiles at me. Or even just looks at me, for that matter.

Reputation opens the kitchen door and slips inside the room, pulling me along with her. Oh, so that’s what she meant by “getting out of here.”

But she just grabs a bottle and two plastic cups from the table, holding them in one hand while her other one is still in mine, and then drags me out into the hallway.

“Where are we going?”

Reputation turns her head a bit to look at me, the tiniest smile on her lips. “You’ll see. Come on.”

She ducks past the barrier tape at the end of the stairs, and without even really thinking about it, I follow her, half-running up the stairs, trying to keep up with her. A laugh escapes my lips. “Jeez, slow down a bit.”

For about one millisecond, she glances back at me, that same smile still on her perfect dark red lips, setting wild butterflies free in my stomach.

Reputation pulls me through the upstairs hallway, past at least half a dozen closed doors, not bothering to slow down until we’ve reached the end.

She lets go of my hand to open the door, and I feel suddenly cold without her touch. I try to push that thought away as I follow her up the narrow winding staircase.

The room looks about like any other attic, with a few stacks of boxes at the far end, some shelves and other old furniture and lots of empty space, illuminated only by Reputation’s phone’s flashlight and the little light that falls in through the windows. I shudder.

“Um, so… What exactly are we doing here?” I ask, turning to Reputation.

“Hold on…” she mutters, while she’s shaking one of the window handles, trying to get it to open. After a moment, it gives in with a quiet creak and she opens the window, then turns back to look at me. “You coming?”

Reluctantly, I make my way over to her, careful not to step on any loose-looking floorboards. Reputation gives me an amused half-smirk that makes my heart go wild, and then, the next moment, she’s already hopped up onto the windowsill and is starting to climb outside.

“Are you sure this is-“ I start but then trail off. Fuck it.

“What?” she asks, turning back around to look at me, her eyes almost electrifying in the dark.

“Nothing,” I murmur, feeling my cheeks grow warm once more. They seem to do that a lot in her presence.

I give her a smile and then hop onto the windowsill, trying not to think about how high above the ground we are as I swing my legs outside and search for a foothold.

Right outside the window, there’s a small area where the roof is nearly flat, just big enough for us to sit on. Reputation scoots over a bit and I sit down next to her, closing the window behind me.

The sky is painted a beautiful light shade of pink, with only a few clouds and even though the sun hasn’t completely set yet, I can already see the crescent moon and some faint stars up there, too. The city stretches out beneath us like a sea of lights – pretty similar to the way it looks from my bedroom window, only… even better.

“Wow,” I breathe.

When I look at Reputation, she’s already watching me, her lips curling upwards in a small smile.

“The sky is really pretty,” I say, feeling myself smile back at her automatically. “And the city, too… with all the lights.”

She tilts her head just a bit and looks out at the city, her expression calm, almost relaxed. “Yeah…”

The two of us just sit there, silently looking out over the city, a comfortable silence stretching out between us.

“When you squint your eyes a bit, they kind of look like Christmas lights,” I say, after a while. The moment the words leave my lips I already wish I could take them back again. God, it sounds so stupid when I say it out loud.

Reputation turns her head slightly to look at me, her expression unreadable. “Really?”

I shrug, feeling heat rise to my cheeks as I stare out at the city, mostly just to avoid looking at her. “Yeah… It kind of reminds me of home,” I say, then shake my head. “It’s stupid, I know.”

Reputation is quiet for a while and I just keep looking out at the city, trying to avoid meeting her eyes.

“You grew up on a Christmas tree farm, right?” she eventually says, her voice pulling me out of my thoughts.

I turn my head to look at her, surprised. “Yeah. How do you know?”

She averts her eyes, looking down, and it might have been because of the cold or even just my imagination, but I think I can see a faint blush on her cheeks. “I don’t know… I think Evermore mentioned it at some point,” she says, her voice just a tad quieter than usually.

“Aww, really?” I can’t help but smile at that. “I know you always pretend to be a bad girl or whatever, but you’re literally such a big softie.”

“No, I’m not,” she replies, still not meeting my eyes.

“Are too,” I say, gently nudging her with my elbow, feeling a smile tug at my lips. “I mean, you remember little details that someone mentioned once about random people? You are a softie.”

Just for a moment, it feels like she’s going to say something like You weren’t just a random person to me. But that’s probably just my wishful thinking.

“Oh, shut up,” she mutters under her breath, but when I look at her, there’s a tiny smile on her lips. She reaches for the bottle of beer she brought from the kitchen and opens it, then pours some into the first of the two plastic cups and holds it out to me. “You want some?”

“Uh, sure,” I say, accepting the cup, and take a small sip. I almost immediately regret that decision. “Oh, wow. This is disgusting.”

Reputation mimics me, taking a sip from her own cup and then grimaces. “Yep. Very disgusting.”

She tilts her head to the side just a bit and looks out at the city, a thoughtful expression on her face. I try not to get too distracted by the way her leg softly brushes against mine, or how her shirt slips off one of her shoulders, exposing soft skin, or the strap of her bra peeking out from under a few strands of hair that gently fall over her shoulder.

“You know, I think I can see it now.”

“What?” I ask, snapping out of my daze, heat rising to my face.

“Your Christmas tree lights,” she says, turning her head slightly to look at me, a tiny smirk on her lips, that makes my heart do weird things inside my chest. God, is she teasing me?

“Oh, you shut up,” I say, my cheeks still feeling warm. But I can’t help the small grin that pulls at the corners of my mouth.

She doesn’t say anything, just looks back out at the city, and after a moment I hesitantly lean my head against her shoulder, almost expecting her to push me away again. For the shortest moment, I can feel her body grow tense against mine, but then she slowly starts to relax.

“Do you miss it?” she asks into the silence.

“Miss what?” I ask.

“The Christmas tree farm. Do you miss living there?”

“Yeah,” I say. “I guess…” I trail off, and stare out at the city, squinting my eyes just enough so that the lights grow out of focus.

“What?” Reputation asks, shifting slightly.

I blow a strand of escape hair out of my face. “No, it’s stupid.”

“I’m sure it’s not,” she says, gently nudging me with her elbow. “What were you going to say?”

“I…” For a moment I hesitate. But somehow her presence right next to me, her shoulder under my head, this place that feels so far away from the noises of the party, so sealed off from the rest of the world – almost like it was made just for the two of us, just for this moment – all that somehow feels reassuring. Like I can tell her anything.

“I guess… I’m not sure I even really miss the place anymore, you know?” I say after a moment. “I think it’s more the girl I was back then, that I miss.”

For a few seconds, everything stays quiet except for the sound of car engines in the far distance and the muffled music that is still playing from downstairs; the opening lyrics of girl in red’s we fell in love in october just barely audible through the walls.

Smoking cigarettes on the roof
You look so pretty and I love this view

“What was she like?” Reputation eventually asks.

“Um…” I think about it for a moment. “She was carefree… a bit naïve but happy.”

Reputation doesn’t say anything for a while and I can tell that she’s waiting for me to tell her more, but when I stay quiet, she nudges me with her elbow again. It’s a faint touch, barely even there, but somehow it makes me feel so… at home.

“I’m pretty sure she’s still in there, you know.”

I lift my head from her shoulder and turn to look at her, feeling a smile tug at my lips. “Told you.”

Her eyebrows draw together in confusion. “What?”

“That you’re a biiig softie,” I reply, unable to stop myself from grinning at her.

“You’re never going to shut up about that, are you?” she says, giving me what I think is supposed to be a glare, but doesn’t have the usual edge to it. And the smile on her lips doesn’t make it more believable, either.

I can’t help but grin at her. “Nope. Probably not.”

My girl, my girl, my girl
You will bw my girl
My girl, my girl, my girl
You will be my world

I pull my legs up, sitting criss-crossed and turn just a bit so that I’m facing her. “Hey, let’s play twenty questions.”

She doesn’t say anything, just raises one eyebrow at me.

“Oh, come on,” I say, feeling my cheeks grow warm again. “It’ll be fun.”

“Okay, fine.” She turns slightly, just enough so that she’s facing me too. “Favorite color?”

“Probably pink,” I say. “Though I really like pastels overall.”

“Yeah, that was pretty obvious,” she mutters under her breath. “Your turn.”

“What’s your favorite season?”

She doesn’t answer right away; for a moment she just sits there in silence, a thoughtful expression on her face. “I’ve never really thought about that… Probably summer, though.”

“Really?” I look at her, surprised.

She raises an eyebrow at me, the look on her face almost challenging. “What?”

I shrug. “I don’t know… I guess I just never really thought of you as a summer person.”

“Well, what’s your favorite season?” she asks.

I think about it for a moment. “Don’t know… I kind of like them all?”

“Now that sounds exactly like something you would say.” She leans forward just a bit and reaches out to tuck a strand of escape hair behind my ear, her fingers lingering on my cheek for just a second longer than needed, her touch featherlight on my skin. Once again, I can feel myself getting lost in the electric blue of her eyes, but then she draws back her hand and breaks off eye contact. “You still have to pick one, though.”

“Um…” I take my plastic mug in one hand and look down at it, trying to ignore the way my cheeks still feel warm and how my heart is definitely beating too fast inside my chest. “Probably also summer? Or winter, because everything is so cozy in winter and you can drink hot chocolate and sit in front of the fireplace all day, and… Please don’t make me choose just one.”

When I look back up at her, she’s still watching me, the tiniest grin on her face. “Okay, okay. You ask your question, then.”

“Um…” I take a sip from my plastic mug, and grimace, which makes her laugh.

“Still doesn’t taste any better?”

I shake my head. “Nope. What’s your all-time favorite song?”

“Oh…” She leans her head against the window frame, looking at me with a thoughtful expression on her face. “I guess probably Boulevard of Broken Dreams by Green Day.”

“I’m gonna have to listen to that song when I get home,” I say, giving her a small smile. “Your turn.”

“Right…” she stares off into the sky for a moment, probably thinking, and then looks back at me. “If you could visit anywhere in the world… Where would you go?”

“I don’t know…” I say. “Maybe Paris or London?” I shift so that I can lean my back against the cool glass of the window and then turn my head to look at her. “Why do you like snakes so much?”

She tenses the tiniest bit at the question – the change so small that I probably wouldn’t even have noticed if I hadn’t been watching her so closely – and averts her eyes. “I don’t know…”

“Oh, come on,” I say, giving her what I hope is a reassuring smile. “You have so many snake-themed things… There has to be a reason, right?”

She shakes her head, her expression unreadable, like stone again. “Not really… Can you just ask me another question?”

“Yeah, of course,” I say. I guess I’ll just keep wondering forever, then. “Um… where did you grow up?”

“London,” she simply says, still wearing that unreadable expression.

“Wait, really?” I ask, amazed. “So you’re actually British?”

Her eyebrows draw together in confusion. “Yeah… I thought you knew that?”

I shake my head. “No… Well, actually, now that you mention it, I think I do remember someone telling me at one point… but I guess I just forgot? In my defense, though, you don’t even talk with a British accent.” I point my finger at her, accusingly, making her smile just a bit.

“Yeah, I guess I don’t… Next question: What’s your zodiac sign?”

“Virgo,” I say, feeling kind of relieved that we’re back to the fun and easy questions again. “Yours?”

“Scorpio.”

I frown at her. “Wait, when’s your birthday?”

“In two weeks,” she says. “November 11.”

“Oh, that’s pretty soon.” I lean my head back against the cool window and look up at the dark sky. Even with the light pollution from the city, I can still see a few dozen stars. “Look,” I say, nudging Reputations arm.

She looks up at the sky, her features soft in the dim light, a small smile on her lips. “Yeah… they’re really pretty.”

I hesitate for just a moment, and then I put my head back on her shoulder, allowing myself to relax against her while we both look up at the stars.

After a moment, I can feel her fingers brush against mine, the touch featherlight, but there, nonetheless. My heart picks up in speed and I turn my head just a bit, careful not to move too fast, out of fear that she’ll slip away from me again. For a moment, she stays perfectly still, but then her hand moves slightly against mine, and the next moment she’s intertwined our fingers, her skin cold and soft against mine.

It feels like my heart just might explode.

_____________

- Folklore -

“And then I told her that I love her and…” 1989 takes a deep breath, probably trying to get herself under control, her cheeks wet with new tears. “She… she just said nothing back.”

For a few moments, I don’t say anything, just stare at the opposite wall, my thoughts racing. What can you even say to someone who just had their heart broken in the worst way? No words could ever fix something like that – at least not mine. I didn’t even know 1989 had a girlfriend. I guess I always just kind of assumed she liked boys.

“I’m sorry,” I eventually say, hating how small my voice sounds. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

1989 shakes her head, new tears streaming down her face, still. She looks so lost and alone, how she sits there on the floor, hugging her knees to her chest. “No, not really…”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to get Evermore or Reputation?” I ask, still unsure of what I’m supposed to do. “They’re probably better at this stuff than me.”

She frantically shakes her head, finally looking over at me. “Jeez, no. They don’t even know I have a girlfriend…”

Oh, so I guess that’s why I didn’t know, either.

1989 tugs a few wet hair strands, that were clinging to her cheeks, behind her ears. “I… I never really told anyone about her… But I guess that doesn’t matter anymore anyway,” she says, her voice cracking.

“Maybe it was just a misunderstanding?” I intend for it to sound reassuring, but it comes out more like a question than anything else. “Like, I don’t know… maybe she didn’t even see your message?”

1989 stares at the floor in front of her, her eyebrows drawn together, a sad expression on her face. “I don’t think so… I sent her a couple messages after that, too… But, yeah, maybe…” She wipes away her tears with the palm of her hand and gives me a smile, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Thanks for listening, though.”

“Of course,” I say. Then, after a moment of hesitation, I add, “Do you want a hug?”

She nods, so I wrap my arms around her, feeling kind of awkward but glad that there is at least something I can do, at the same time.

“Thanks,” she murmurs, resting her head on my shoulder for just a moment, before she pulls away again, a tiny smile on her face. This time it doesn’t look as forced anymore. “I really like your cardigan; the flowers are so cute.”

I look down at the vintage cardigan that I’m wearing, somewhat puzzled; I thrifted it a few years ago at some secondhand shop in the city and then added some flowers to the sleeves. “Thanks,” I say, looking up at her. “I embroidered them myself.”

“That’s cool,” 1989 says, and picks up her phone from the floor, her smile disappearing when she looks at the screen. So I guess her girlfriend still hasn’t responded.

“I think I’m gonna go back downstairs,” she says, her eyes focusing on my handbag which is lying on the floor between us. “Wait, did you actually bring a book to a party?”

I glance down and find that the corner of my book is peeking out from my bag, clearly visible. So there’s no point in trying to deny it anymore. “Um,” I say, mortified by the way I can literally feel my cheeks grow red, “yeah… I’m sorry?”

1989 shakes her head, a small smile tugging at her lips and reaches for my book. “Don’t be… What are you reading?” Before I can answer her, she’s already turned the book over in her hands to look at the cover. “Oh my god, I love that TV-show. Who’s your favorite character?”

“Um… Betty, I think,” I say, somewhat startled by the fact that she has seen the show. “Yours?”

She looks up at me and nods. “Yeah… I’m more of an Augustine girly, but Betty’s pretty cool, too.” She gives the book back to me and then gets up. “I’m gonna go back downstairs, but if you want to stay here for a while and read, that’s okay with me.” She gives me a small smile. “And thanks again for listening, Folklore.”

Then, the next moment, she’s gone again, leaving me alone in her room.

_____________

- Lover -

“How did you even know how to get up here?” I ask into the quiet. My head is still resting on Reputation’s shoulder, our fingers intertwined.

“1989 showed me and Evermore a couple years ago,” she simply says.

I look at the city, the now dark streets and the bright lights, feeling a smile tug at my lips. “It’s really nice up here… so quiet and relaxing.” I pause for a moment. “It kind of feels like nothing could ever stress you out while you’re up here.”

“Mhm…” She shifts slightly and I lift my head from her shoulder, glancing over at her. “You’ve been stressed out lately?”

“Yeah.”

“Me too,” she says, turning her head just a bit, and smiles at me. Then her expression changes, a frown appearing on her face. “Are you cold?”

I give her a quick smile, hoping that it looks reassuring, and try to ignore the goosebumps on my arms. I don’t want to leave this place just yet. “No, I’m fine.”

She shakes her head. “Lover, you’re literally shivering. We should probably go back inside.”

I sigh. “Okay, fine.” She drops my hand, my fingers feeling suddenly too cold without hers against them.

While she grabs the bottle and her still half-full plastic mug from the roof, I open the window and climb back inside, into the now completely dark attic. I get out my phone and turn on the flashlight while I wait for her, then check the time. “Oh, shit,” I mutter under my breath.

The window creaks and when I look up, Reputation is turning the handle to lock it. “What?” she asks.

“Nothing… I just didn’t realize it was this late, already.” I follow her over to the stairs, illuminating the way with my phone’s flashlight and trying my best to ignore the creepy darkness around us. “I think my mom’s coming to pick me up in like twenty minutes.”

“Oh, okay.” Maybe it’s just wishful thinking, but I’m pretty sure there’s a certain disappointment swinging along in her voice.

“There you guys are!” Red exclaims the second she sees us, waving with her free hand, a plastic mug with some sort of liquid in her other one. “Where the heck were you?”

“Um,” I say, looking around, not sure whether I’m supposed to tell her the truth or lie. “Just…”

“We went outside for a while,” Reputation jumps in to save me.

Thank you, I mouth when I’m sure none of the others are looking. She gives me a small smile in return.

“Oh, okay.” Red turns to 1989 who is standing right next to her, sipping on some drink. “Do you know if there still are any cupcakes left?”

1989 just shrugs, not bothering to give her a verbal answer, or even look up from her drink.

“Probably not,” Evermore chimes in. “I think they were already gone, like, two hours ago, or something.”

Red sighs. “Yeah, probably…”

“We can go, look,” Speak Now offers, holding out her hand. “If you want to?”

Red smiles at her, taking her hand and starts to pull her toward the kitchen, giving Speak Now barely enough time to turn around and wave at us before they’re already gone.

“Hey, Evermore?” I say, looking at my cousin. “My mom’s coming to pick us up in fifteen minutes, if you guys still want to sleep over at my place.”

For a moment she just looks confused, but then her expression clears. “Oh, yeah. Yeah, we do…” She frowns, looking around the room. “Where is Folklore?”

“She’s in my room,” 1989 says, finally looking up from the now empty plastic cup in her hands. “Or at least I think so.”

Evermore’s frown only deepens at that, but she doesn’t say anything about it, instead turning to me. “I’ll go, get her.”

When she’s gone, I turn to 1989. “Thank you so much again for the invitation.” I smile at her. “The party was really fun.”

“Yeah.” She smiles back at me, and I kind of feel like there’s something off about her expression, but I can’t put my finger on what exactly. “Thanks for your help and everything… I think I’m gonna go look if Red and Speak Now found those cupcakes.” And with that she leaves Reputation and me alone.

“I think I’m probably gonna leave soon, too,” Reputation says, starting to get out her phone. “I’m just gonna call my parents…”

“Do you want a ride home?” I ask her.

She looks up from her phone, a small smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. “Yeah, thanks. That would be really nice.”

I can’t help but smile back at her. “Of course.”

“Lover!” Evermore calls from behind me and I whirl around to find her and Folklore standing in the hallway, jackets already on. “You coming?”

“Yeah.”

I take Reputation’s hand and start to pull her out into the hallway. “Let’s go.”

_____________

- 1989 -

karmaisreal: 1989?

I hate how fast I reach for my phone when her name pops up on my lockscreen, my heart racing inside my chest, that tiny spark of hope that her silence extinguished hours ago rising in my chest again. I should know better than this, should at least have her wait for a few hours before I reply, just like she had me waiting for an answer for exactly twelve hours and seventeen minutes. And even then, it isn’t really a response at all – just my name.

lostinwonderland: Yeah?

The three small dots appear at the bottom of my screen, disappear, appear again. I just lie there in my bed and stare at them, equal levels of anticipation and dread rising in my stomach.

After what seems like an eternity, a new message eventually appears at the end of our chat.

karmaisreal: I can’t do this anymore

karmaisreal: Sorry

I stare at my phone in disbelief, feeling all the emotions I bottled up last night rising up again, new tears pricking my eyes. Is she… breaking up with me?

karmaisreal: Maybe we can still be friends tho?

Maybe we can still be friends? Is she serious right now?

I turn off my phone and throw it onto the mattress, with the screen facing down, then bury my face into my pillow, feeling my cheeks grow wet with tears. I’m not even sure if I’m crying out of disappointment or anger or sadness, anymore. I just feel numb.

It isn’t until hours later that I can find it in myself to pick up my phone again, to send her one final message, before I cut her off completely.

lostinwonderland: I can’t pretend it’s platonic when it’s just ended.

Chapter Text

- Red -

“That’s two dollars and fifty cents, please,” Phoebe says, giving the customer a polite smile when she hands him his coffee to-go.

It’s almost completely quiet, except for the soft indie music that is playing in the background and the humming of the coffee machine.

I grab the pastry tongs and place a piece of chocolate cake on a plate, my eyes finding their way over to Speak Now for about the thousandth time today. She’s sitting at the table by the window – one of the few that is occupied right now – by herself. The cup of coffee (with extra cream) she ordered about half an hour ago still sitting on the table in front of her, probably left untouched.

She puts down her pen next to her notebook and looks outside at the sunny street, a distant expression on her face.

“She looks kind of sad,” Phoebe says.

“Huh?” I blink, snapping out of my thoughts and turn my head to look at her.

Phoebe raises her eyebrows at me. “Speak Now. She looks kind of sad.”

“Yeah…” I hand the chocolate cake to the customer who ordered it and then turn back to Phoebe. “Do you mind if I go and sit with her for a while?”

“Of course not,” Phoebe says, quickly glancing over at Speak Now with a somewhat concerned look on her face.

“You sure?” I ask, already starting to grab an empty mug from the shelf.

“Yeah.” She gives me a reassuring smile as I pour some cocoa powder and warm milk into the cup, stirring it with a teaspoon. “It’s not really busy right now, anyway… You go talk to your girlfriend; I’ve got this.”

I roll my eyes at her but I can feel a tiny smile tug at my lips in spite of myself. “Still not my girlfriend,” I mutter under my breath, and top the hot chocolate with some cream.

She doesn’t reply, just raises her eyebrows at me, a tiny smirk on her face. I decide to just ignore her – there’s no point in starting another discussion about this, anyway.

“Hey,” I say, setting down the cup of hot chocolate on the table in front of Speak Now before I sit down across from her. “I brought you some hot chocolate.”

She turns her head, a tiny smile slipping onto her lips when she sees me, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Hi… Thanks.”

“Are you okay…?” I ask, starting to feel myself frown. “Did something happen?”

She sighs and reaches for the hot chocolate I brought her, closing her hands around the warm cup. “John and I broke up,” she says, her voice unusually quiet.

“Oh.” I watch her carefully, trying to figure out how she feels about it, but her face doesn’t give anything away. “I’m sorry…”

She just shrugs, offering me a small smile. “It’s okay…”

“You know I’m always here for you if you want to talk about it, right?”

“Yeah…” She puts her cup down on the table and looks outside. “Thanks.”

“What were you doing?” I ask after a moment, my eyes finding her notes that are still lying openly on the table between us.

“Just trying to work on my song,” she says, following my gaze, “for the contest.”

I glance over at the clock that hangs on the wall over the counter, catching Phoebe’s eye for just a moment as she pours a cup of coffee for a new customer. She winks at me, a tiny smirk on her face, and I just roll my eyes in return.

“I get off from work in like half an hour,” I say, turning back to Speak Now. “If you want to, we could hang out at my place and write our songs together or something…”

She opens her mouth to say something, but before she can, I raise my hand to stop her. “I know you don’t want any co-writers on your song, but maybe you could help me with mine?”

She gives me a smile. “Okay.”

“You good to go?” I ask about thirty minutes later, looking down at Speak Now who is bent over her notes, scribbling down something in the side margins. “Yep,” she mutters, quickly looking up at me before she gathers together all the loose papers and stuffs them into her notebook.

I wait for her while she puts on her jacket and then start to walk toward the exit, Speak Now following me, and stop by the counter to grab the coffee to-go I made for myself earlier and say goodbye to Phoebe.

It’s only about a ten minute walk from the Bluebird Café to my house, and once we’re there I unlock the door, holding it for Speak Now, and then follow her inside. “My dad is still at work,” I tell her while we take off our shoes and jackets, “and I think my mom and Ed went to meet up with some relatives, but I have no idea when they’ll be back.”

“Okay.”

She starts up the stairs and I follow her, still holding my now almost empty coffee mug.

I close the door behind us, turning around to find Speak Now already sprawled on my bed, her notebook and pens lying in front of her. I put my paper mug down on my desk and get my own notebook out of the drawer, then sit down next to Speak Now, watching her for a moment as she reads through her notes.

“How’s it going?”

She groans, turning around so that she’s lying on her back and looks up at me. “I don’t even understand my own writing anymore.”

“Can I see?” I ask, starting to reach for her notebook before she’s even had the chance to give me an answer. I know that she would let me read anything.

The page it is opened to is practically completely covered in words written in her cursive handwriting, with little arrows everywhere, the text going in different directions.

“Everything is just… chaos,” she says.

I look up from the notebook, and meet her eyes, feeling a small grin tug at the corners of my mouth. “Yeah, I can see that.”

I throw the notebook back at her and she catches it, looking at me with an expectant look on her face. “Now, can I hear your song?”

“Yeah…” I grab my guitar which is leaning against the wall next to my bed and put it on my lap, sitting with my legs crossed. “So I started writing this song but I’m sort of stuck on the second verse…” I strum a few chords on my guitar, shortly glancing over at Speak Now. “I don’t even know if I’m going to use it for the contest, though. But here we go…”

You find yourself at my door
And just like all those times before
You wear your best apology
But I was there to watch you leave
[…]
This is the last time I’m asking you why
You break my heart in the blink of an eye

When I’m done, I look up, my eyes meeting Speak Now’s. “So… What do you think?”

She sits up, brushing some escape hair out of her face. “It’s really good. I’m thinking you should try to make it a duet.”

“Oh, I like that idea,” I say, already picking up my notebook and flipping it open to the next empty page. “Like, if I just mirror all the things I already said but from the guy’s perspective?”

Speak Now nods. “Yeah.”

I can feel her eyes on me as I start to write down a few ideas for lyrics for the next verse. “What?” I ask, looking up at her.

“Nothing…” She shakes her head. “It’s just that… that song is pretty sad.”

I put down my pen and look up at her, frowning. “So?”

“Is… everything okay with you and Jake?”

I open my mouth, intending to tell her to stop trying to interfere with my relationship, but something stops me. “I don’t know…” I say, looking back down at my notes. Avoiding eye contact with her. “I guess…? I haven’t really talked to him a lot, lately.”

She’s quiet for a moment and when I glance over at her, she’s still watching me, a weird expression on her face. “You know,” she says after a moment, “if you ever need someone to punch him in the face for you, you can just call me.”

I can’t help but smile at that. “Okay, thanks.”

She grins at me. “Of course.” Then, her eyes dropping to my guitar, she asks, “Can I…?”

“Yeah, of course.” I hand it over to her, watching as she starts to play her own song, the same one she’d already started writing the day the contest was announced.

The way you move is a full on rainstorm
And I’m a house of cards
You say my name for the first time-

She breaks herself off, looking down at her notebook. “Ugh, I hate this part.”

“Why?” I ask, shifting slightly so that I can lean my back against the wall.

“It just sounds so stupid,” she rapidly blinks a few times, her eyes still on her notebook, and with a jolt, I realize that she’s on the verge of tears. “…naïve.”

“Hey…” I reach out and take her hand in mine. “It’s okay. I’m here for you.”

She looks up at me, tears shimmering in her green eyes. “I just… I don’t know how I could be this stupid,” she says, her voice sounding small in the quiet of my room. It breaks my heart to see her like that, to know that some stupid boy can make her doubt herself like that.

God, how I hate that guy.

“It’s not your fault,” I say, internally making a promise to destroy John if I ever see him again. “He’s a douchebag.”

She laughs and wipes away her tears, then puts my guitar down on the floor. “He is.”

I watch her as she flops back down on the mattress, grabbing one of my pillows and hugging it to her chest like a stuffed animal, and stares up at the ceiling. Her ponytail has come undone, and her hair is now freely falling over her shoulders, soft curls framing her face.

“You okay again?” I ask.

“Yeah, I think so.” She glances over at me, offering me a small smile before her eyes travel back to my bedroom ceiling. “Why do we even bother with love if it never lasts anyway?”

I snort. “Jeez, Speak Now. You’re starting to sound like me.”

She grimaces at me and then props herself up on one eyebrow, shifting slightly so that she’s lying on her side, facing me. “You know, sometimes I think I should just start dating girls instead… Maybe that would be easier.”

I look up from my notebook, trying to ignore the weird, fuzzy feeling that spreads inside my stomach at her words. “Oh?”

“Yeah…” She flops back down onto the mattress and grabs her own notebook, skimming through her writing. “It’s too bad I’m not into girls like that.”

I reach over to my nightstand and grab my phone, glancing over at her quickly before I type in my password. “Yeah… You wanna listen to our playlist?”

“Hold on,” she says, sitting up, her curls swaying over her shoulders in a tangled mess, her eyes still slightly red from crying. Somehow, she still manages to look beautiful.

She grabs my guitar from the floor, and sits down with her back against the wall, quickly looking over at me before she starts to play the first few chords of her song once more. “I think it’s gonna go like this instead.”

_____________

- Speak Now -

When I glance over at Red, she is still sitting on her bed, with her back against the wall, scribbling down something in her notebook. Her hair shimmers in different shades of auburn in the afternoon sun that shines in through the open window and immerses the room in golden light. The sound of leaves rustling in the autumn wind outside perfectly blends into the quiet music that is playing from her speaker, creating a cozy atmosphere.

Red’s eyes are firmly fixated on the notebook in her lap, her eyebrows furrowed as she skims through her writing. She looks kind of cute when she’s concentrating really hard on something.

I tear my eyes away from her and stand up, starting to walk around the room, before I stop at the wall next to her wardrobe. The light grey wallpaper is covered in a collage of tiny posters – mostly of different indie and pop artists – and photos of the two of us. Right next to a Clairo lyric poster, a half a photo strip is taped up on the wall, with the date July 13 written right above the first picture. I still remember the day we took those pictures in a photobooth somewhere in the city, two summers ago, and how she ripped it through clean in the middle because we couldn’t decide on who would get to keep it.

There are some older photos, too – one from our first day at school and a polaroid picture of us sitting in the trampoline in her garden, making silly faces at the camera.

My phone buzzes in my pocket and when I get it out, a new message from Debut has popped up on my lock screen.

___

country girls
enchantedfairy, missperfectlyfine, stupidoldpickuptruck

stupidoldpickuptruck: What time were we supposed to be there tomorrow?????

missperfectlyfine: No idea

enchantedfairy: Idk, ask Evermore or Folklore not me

stupidoldpickuptruck: But I don’t know them :(

enchantedfairy: Oh. My. God.
enchantedfairy: Wait a sec

___

taymerican queens
enchantedfairy, lonelywitch, lostinwonderland, mirrorballcat, misstaymericana17, sadautumngirl, reputaytionsnake13

enchantedfairy added stupidoldpickuptruck to the group chat.

enchantedfairy added missperfectlyfine to the group chat.

 enchantedfairy: Hey guys what time were we gonna meet up tomorrow?

lostinwonderland: I think Evermore said something like 5pm?

mirrorballcat: yeah you all can come to our place at around 5pm
mirrorballcat: or a bit earlier if u want

enchantedfairy: Okay thnx <3

___

country girls
enchantedfairy, missperfectlyfine, stupidoldpickuptruck

enchantedfairy: You happy now?

stupidoldpickuptruck: Yes thank U

___

I put my phone away and look over at Red, just to find that she’s already watching me. She brushes her hair behind her ears and gives me a tiny smile. “Do you wanna go outside for a while?”

“Sure…” I glance at her notebook which is now lying on the floor, right next to her guitar. “Did you finish your song?”

She sighs and gets up, then walks over to the window. “No, not really,” she says and closes the window. “But I’m so sick of writing sad love songs about boys.”

“Yeah,” I say, and keep watching her, trying to figure out if she’s talking about her boyfriend or just boys in general… Which is kind of stupid – of course she’s talking about him. For a split second, I consider asking her about it, because maybe then she’d tell me more, and maybe then I could convince her to finally break up with him, but then I just shake my head. “Yeah, no… me too.”

She gives me a small smile and opens the door, holding it for me. I follow her downstairs and through the hallway, into the living room, both of us grabbing our shoes on the way.

Red’s mom is cutting vegetables in the kitchen and when we walk in, she looks up, a smile on her lips. “Hi, girls.”

I wave at her. “Hi.”

“Hi mom.” Red opens the patio door and steps outside, starting to put on her shoes. “We’re just gonna go outside for a while.”

“Okay.” Her mom looks at me. “Do you want to stay for dinner?”

“Um…” I glance over at Red but she’s too busy tying her shoes to notice. “Yeah, sure,” I say, looking back at her mom. “If that’s okay with you?”

She gives me a warm smile. “Of course.”

“Are you coming?” I turn around to find Red is finally done tying her shoes, so I follow her outside, quickly slipping on my purple converse.

She closes the door behind me, and I already start running towards her trampoline – the same one we always used to play on back when we were kids – and then climb up the tiny ladder.

She turns around and looks at me, a tiny grin forming on her lips.

I stick out my tongue at her. “I was first. Looser.”

“Really?” She shakes her head at me but walks over to me, anyway. “What are you, five?” she asks as she hops up onto the edge of the trampoline and slides through the net. “I bet I can jump higher than you, though.”

I raise my eyebrows at her, feeling a grin start to pull at my lips, all the sadness from earlier today finally gone. “Prove it.”

“Okay, fine.” Red flops down onto the trampoline mat and looks up at me, her face slightly red from exhaustion. “You win.”

“I know.” I sit down next to her. “I’m way better than you.”

She rolls her eyes and blows a strand of auburn hair out of her face. “Oh, will you just shut up for once.”

“Hm…” I look at her, pretending to think about it and trying my best to ignore how cute she looks when she’s all out of breath, her face red and her hair a mess. She raises her eyebrows at me in question.

I shake my head, warmth rising to my cheeks for some reason, and lie down next to her. “Nope.”

She turns her head to the side, so that she can look at me and gives me a tiny smile. “Hey, I was thinking…” I watch as she takes my hand, interlacing my fingers with hers, her palm soft and warm against mine. “What?” I ask, looking back up at her face; that small smile is still on her lips.

“I don’t know…” She turns to lie on her back again and stares up at the sky. “I was just thinking that maybe we should try writing a song together?” She glances over at me, quickly, a hopeful expression on her face. “Like, maybe that could be fun?”

I don’t really like writing songs together with other people. I open my mouth to tell her exactly that, but then change my mind. She already knows anyway – I’ve told her at least a dozen times.

“Okay. Yeah,” I say eventually.

She sits up in a flash. “Wait really?”

“Mhm.” I can’t help but smile at the look of surprise on her face. “I mean, we can at least try, right?”

“Yes.” She starts to get off the trampoline and I sit up and watch her, pulling my tangled hair back into a ponytail as good as I can.

“I’ll go and grab a guitar,” she tells me before she turns around and starts heading back to the house. “And some paper and pens.”

I give her a thumbs up and then get out my phone, opening the message Emma sent me a few minutes ago.

little_miss_sunshine: Heyy how are you holding up? <3

I can’t help but smile. It’s just like her to check in on me now.

Earlier today, when she had to leave for the airport and I was still sad because of John, I could tell she didn’t want to leave me alone like that, and after she’d eventually left, she kept texting me every few minutes until her plane took off and she had to turn on flight mode.

enchantedfairy: I’m okay now, I think
enchantedfairy: For real this time
enchantedfairy: Did u land alright? How’s New York so far???

She’s already online just a few seconds later.

little_miss_sunshine: I haven’t seen too much of the city yet, but so far it’s great!
little_miss_sunshine: Mom and I are currently on the subway to her place :)
little_miss_sunshine: So what are u doing?
little_miss_sunshine: (Not secretly still sulking about that idiot I hope)

enchantedfairy: Haha no
enchantedfairy: I’m hanging out with Red & having the time of my life without him
enchantedfairy: Not gonna let that douchebag ruin my day :P

little_miss_sunshine: That’s my girl!!!

“I’m back!”

I look up from my phone. Red is standing by the patio door, her guitar and a notepad in her hands, Ed right next to her.

“Hey, Speak Now!” He waves at me while Red starts to put on her shoes. “Haven’t seen you in a while… How are you?”

“I’m alright,” I say, giving him a quick smile. “You?”

“Yeah, me too.” He starts to say something more, but Red pushes him back inside. “Hush. You can talk to her later, we have a song to write first.”

He rolls his eyes at her, but he’s grinning, nonetheless, and I can’t help but laugh. They’ve pretty much always been that way with each other. I quickly type out a message to Emma before I put my phone away.

enchantedfairy: Gtg now, but have fun in New York <3
enchantedfairy: And send me lots of photos !!!!!!!!!!!!!

Red climbs back up onto the trampoline and sits down next to me, the guitar in her lap. I grab the pen and notebook she brought and flip it open to an empty page. “So do we have a title for our song, or…?”

Red shrugs. “I don’t know… Just leave it blank for now and then we can come up with something later?”

“Nah.” I write down Red’s and Speak Now’s song at the top of the page and then draw small hearts around the words. “It at least needs a working title.”

She glances over at the notepad, a small smile forming on her lips. “Okay.” Then she starts strumming a few chords on her guitar. “So I was thinking maybe it could go something like this…”