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Three months.
Three months were all it took for the Northwest family to regain their place among high society and become the richest family in Gravity Falls. Pacifica could hardly believe it herself; even after almost a year of living in her old home again, it didn't seem real.
Twelve months ago, the near-world-ending incident, crudely known as "Weirdmageddon," had caused significant damage, not just to the town itself but to the people of Gravity Falls. Though the bulk of it had been cosmically reversed, she’d figured her father's stupid decisions couldn't be so easily fixed.
But, of course, she’d been wrong.
She still vividly remembered the first few days of living as upper-middle-class rather than in the top 1%, recalling them on occasion with an odd, wistful bliss. At the time, they'd been forced to move to a small mansion, though still easily beyond anyone else in the town’s means. They had a smaller staff of just one butler, a gardener, a maid, and a chef, rather than a whole army. Their exotic pet collection had been whittled down to one personal pony each and a few rare birds.
The differences weren't really noticeable to anyone outside her family, but those few weeks spent in a slightly lower tax bracket had wreaked havoc on her parents’ already-tenuous marriage. Though she supposed it didn’t take much to shake the foundation of their purely transactional relationship. They’d argued constantly, disgruntled by the lower standard of living than what they were used to, and could barely stand to be around one another for longer than it took to eat dinner.
Granted, Pacifica also had to adjust.
Saying the Pines’ twins had left an impression on her was a gross understatement. Pacifica would begrudgingly admit that they had become her friends. Really good, genuine friends. The kind that cheesy coming-of-age movies and afterschool specials promoted relentlessly. Not that she’d ever tell them that.
When they hopped on their bus and disappeared back to California, she’d resolved to be a brand new Pacifica by the time they came back. She wanted to become someone that they’d be proud to call their friend. Someone who could fix her family’s tainted name.
Summer jobs were the norm for the majority of Gravity Falls teenagers, and she figured that if her goal was to be more down-to-earth, then she should get one herself. She’d found a job at Greasy’s Diner as a waitress, and was thankful that the uniform happened to be relatively flattering on her.
As it turned out, waitressing was incredibly easy for someone of her elite breeding. Years of etiquette classes and private lessons had given her the skills to excel at her job. Even if it was gross, and at times a little miserable, it was— for lack of a better description— enriching.
But, as soon as she was getting comfortable with her new life, her parents started talking again.
Pacifica knew what had happened before they’d told her: somehow, they’d rebuilt their fortune. Yes, against all odds, the Northwest family was back on top.
Her father had made her quit her job, of course. No amount of arguing or pleading could change his mind. After all, Northwest didn’t do minimum wage.
And in the blink of an eye, she was right back to square one. Back in that gigantic house. Back to the days of cotillion classes, private tutoring, and nights of fancy dinner parties. Back to bowing to that damn bell.
It was disappointing more than anything else, and Pacifica felt stupid for letting herself be too eager. To get her hopes up too high.
But that was the past. Now, it was summer again, and that meant that the Twins would be coming back to Gravity Falls for two and a half glorious months.
She'd been texting with Mabel and, by association, Dipper throughout the year. To her delight, they’d be back in time to attend the annual Northwest summer party.
Words couldn’t describe how excited she was for them to come back. She’d missed having real friends to hang out with. Dipper and Mabel were a unique flavor, one that Pacifica hadn’t been able to find in anyone else. They were far more interesting than the sociophants that leached onto her throughout the year.
The funny thing about wealthy people was that as long as you have money, they seemed indifferent to everything else. It didn't matter that her father supported a monster trying to ruin the town, nor that they had been briefly "poor." Now back on top, society treated them accordingly. Her friends, who had suddenly stopped responding to her messages after the incident, started texting her again once she’d regained her wealth.
It was infuriating. Pacifica dreaded facing them for another night of tight smiles and polite chatter.
Drawing in a deep breath, Pacifica checked herself in the mirror for the hundredth time that evening. Her blonde hair was sleek and straight, cascading softly over her shoulders. She smoothed her dress repeatedly, feeling the fabric under her gloves. She examined her appearance carefully, making sure she looked perfect to avoid another scolding from her mother. She was already frustrated about having to attend her family's annual party again and wanted to avoid any arguments tonight.
Staring into her large mirror, she adjusted her diamond necklace. As she wondered whether gold would complement the pink dress she'd chosen, a sudden series of quick knocks came from the door. She jumped, sending a jolt through her chest. Pacifica drew a deep breath. It was fine. She called for whoever it was to come in.
The door swung open swiftly, and as Pacifica looked towards her guest, a burst of brown and teal rushed at her, enveloping her in a hug. She blinked a few times before recognizing the familiar smell of vanilla and cinnamon. She realized who was holding her: Mabel Pines.
Smiling, she moved to reciprocate the hug.
"Pacifica!" Mabel exclaimed, squeezing her tighter, "We missed you so much!"
Pacifica gave her a squeeze in return, "I missed you, too!”
She had eyes on one half of the Pines twins set, and since they seldom separated, she instantly looked for the other. Pacifica looked over Mabel's shoulder. Her eyes widened in surprise. Standing in the doorway was Dipper, though he looked remarkably different. She hadn’t seen him since last summer, when they’d gotten rid of any traces of Bill from the manor by dumping them off the side of her yacht.
He was significantly taller, perhaps by around six inches, since they’d last seen each other. His once softer features had become more defined. His jawline had sharpened into a distinct edge. His brown hair was cut shorter now, though he still wore his trademark pine tree hat.
How could so much have changed in just ten months?
Pacifica, a bit stunned, stepped back to observe Mabel, curious whether she had also undergone a dramatic transformation. After quickly glancing at her face, she noted some subtle differences, though not nearly as noticeable as Dipper's. Mabel's braces had been removed, revealing almost perfect teeth. Her nose was dotted with freckles, likely from sun exposure. Her hair also looked different, now cut just past her shoulders, which was expected given her spontaneous nature.
The feeling of genuine excitement was exhilarating. It was probably the most she’d felt in a while.
The Pines family remained the heroes of Gravity Falls. Local celebrities held more influence than A-listers, especially in a town like theirs. As such, Pacifica exploited their status to secure their spots on the guest list.
As she looked over the twins again, a sudden wave of dread hit her like a freight train. Her eyes fixed on Dipper's outfit in horror. He was dressed casually in a T-shirt, hoodie, jeans, and old sneakers, topped off with his signature pine tree hat—an obvious contrast to Mabel's poofy, sparkly teal dress.
Her parents would be furious.
Last year’s rebellion had serious consequences—she'd lost access to half her credit cards for a month. Her parents still hadn’t let up entirely, keeping the leash tight to keep Pacifica from acting up and further damaging their family's image.
"Dipper, please say you brought something to change into."
Dipper rolled his eyes, "Why do I have to dress up for this? I'm already not pumped to be here."
"I tried to tell him, but he wouldn't listen!" Mabel chimed in.
Pacifica clenched her hands into fists. "Dipper, please, my parents will freak out if you go downstairs dressed like this. They're already not big fans of you,” she pleaded.
Something in her face must’ve conveyed how serious the situation was, as Dipper’s indifferent expression shifted. She was about to deliver the final blow and flash her signature puppy dog eyes at him when Dipper sighed.
"Fine."
Mabel squealed in excitement. "Oh my god, yes! Finally, an opportunity for a makeover."
Pacifica enjoyed Mabel’s enthusiasm. She could almost live vicariously through her friend’s wild, childlike joy. As a result, Pacifica had gotten Mabel a few welcome-back presents, including a carefully curated, handpicked cutie to kick off Mabel’s list of summer romances.
And if she also just wanted an excuse to be alone with Dipper for a minute, that was her business.
“You don't have to wait up here, you know,” Pacifica said, turning to Mabel, “The party is about to start. Candy and Grenda should be arriving soon.”
Mabel shrugged. "Nah, it’s alright. I’ve been wanting to fix Dipper for, like, forever.”
"I mean, it might take a while. There's a lot to fix," Pacifica hummed, gesturing towards Dipper.
Mabel laughed, prompting Pacifica to smile even more. Dipper, on the other hand, did not seem amused.
“Besides, there's a boy I think would be perfect for you. I may have mentioned you to him, and he was totally interested." Pacifica told her, elbowing her playfully.
Mabel's face lit up. "Really?"
"His name is Lucas Massey. He's the son of one of my dad's billionaire golf buddies. He’s rich, super cute, and so your type."
Mabel’s expression told Pacifica she’d struck gold. Her brown eyes darted between Dipper and Pacifica indecisively, clearly torn between chasing the fairytale prince waiting downstairs and staying with her brother.
“Well, I guess you are the expert,” Mabel reasoned, clearly leaning towards the former.
Pacifica chuckled. “He’s already downstairs. He’ll be wearing red.”
Grinning eagerly, Mabel hurriedly checked her reflection, fluffing her hair quickly before rushing out the door.
Pacifica was pretty sure they’d be a good match. Lucas was the artsy type and a little quiet, which would complement Mabel well. His unintentional nonchalance would also satisfy Mabel’s love for the mysterious and brooding.
As Mabel vanished from sight, Pacifica redirected her focus to the current matter. She turned toward Dipper, who appeared awkward as ever. He seemed particularly out of place among the luxurious clothes and accessories decorating her overwhelmingly grand closet.
Nevertheless, she had a task to complete. She walked over to the small part of her closet designated for suits for this exact occasion. The last couple of years had seen a number of emotionally motivated shopping sprees, resulting in her cultivating a small collection of men's formal wear.
Recently, she’d found herself making more deliberate purchases.
And if they just so happened to be a certain person’s size and complement a certain person’s frame, that was purely a coincidence.
"So..." Dipper awkwardly kicked his foot out, "Anything cool happen while we were gone?"
"I got a job," Pacifica said, glancing at him through one of the mirrors next to her.
Dipper's eyes widened. "You? You got a job?"
"Yes, a job."
Dipper tried, and failed, to hold in his laughter. Pacifica's face flushed. She understood why he would be surprised, of course, but it was embarrassing nonetheless. She hated being laughed at.
"Whatever!" She huffed in response, continuing her browse through the rack.
Working at Greasy's had been enjoyable, really. She didn't mind working alongside Lazy Susan and quickly got accustomed to her odd antics. Even the strange happenings, like occasional flying eyeballs and gnome pie thefts, were easy to manage.
She felt a pang of sadness creep up at the memory of having to quit.
"Where at?" Dipper asked, still grinning.
"Greasy's Diner."
Her response sent Dipper into another fit of laughter.
Pacifica rolled her eyes, looking over her shoulder at him. "Laugh all you want. I looked good in the uniform."
A sort of sly smile crossed his face.
"I bet."
Pacifica blinked in surprise. Heat slowly crawled up the back of her neck, seeping into her cheeks.
Did he just— what did he mean by that?
Before Pacifica could comment or even ponder it further, Dipper promptly continued.
"How's working at Greasy's going then? Any crazy stories?"
She shook her head slightly, making herself refocus again.
"Honestly, aside from the occasional stray mutant cat or gnome, not much. The customers were the main attraction."
“Really?”
“Toby Determined got stuck in the toilet once,” Pacifica offered as an example.
Dipper grinned. “That sounds… accurate.”
In the reflection of the silver mirror beside her, she watched him cross to one of the plush sofas and sit down.
"How long have you been working there?"
Pacifica couldn’t help but bite her lip. Leave it to Dipper Pines to ask the uncomfortable questions.
"I worked there for about a month."
Dipper's smile dampened. "Worked? I thought you said you had a job."
"I said I'd gotten a job, not that I had one," she clarified.
"What happened?"
“My dad.”
It was quiet for a moment. Pacifica realized that Dipper was waiting for her to speak.
“He made me quit. Something about how ‘Northwests don’t work with commoners,’” Pacifica explained carefully, trying her best to keep her voice from rising.
The unfairness of it all still stung. Sure, she enjoyed the luxuries that came with being a Northwest and having boatloads of money, but she’d liked her job. She’d like the small bit of freedom that making her own money had granted her. But even that little bit of control was taken away from her, and it was suffocating.
Dipper gave her a strange, almost sympathetic look. She took a deep breath and looked back at the clothes. She didn't have time to reminisce. She ran her fingers over one of the garment bags.
After another moment of contemplation, she made her choice, pulling the hanger down from the rack. Pacifica turned to him.
“Here, go try this on."
He nodded, hesitantly taking the garment bag and retreating to one of her closet's built-in dressing rooms.
Pacifica let out a sigh. She returned her attention to the mirror, and what she saw made her frown. A weird heaviness settled in the back of her skull. God, was that another wrinkle? Did her eyes look puffy? Her mom was going to kill her.
Though she was barely fourteen, her mom had begun floating the idea of plastic surgery around. Pacifica couldn’t imagine what for, but the idea was haunting the recesses of her mind. Maybe she did need it. Maybe she was so used to her reflection that she didn’t see any of the glaring flaws her mother could.
She anxiously ran her fingers through her hair, making sure there were absolutely no tangles. In the last year, big, curly hair had fallen out of style, and sleek, straight hair was in. Pacifica wasn’t quite used to it yet.
"Your hair looks good," Dipper commented as he pulled the curtain back and stepped out, now wearing the black suit she'd chosen.
Pacifica straightened, surprised. "Really?"
"Yeah, I can actually see your face now."
"Hey! You could see my face before," she protested.
Dipper shrugged, fumbling with the tie in his hands, "It was hard to see underneath all of the blonde curls and hairspray."
Rolling her eyes, Pacifica crossed to meet him in front of the mirror, shooing his hands away in favor of tying his tie for him. How helpless could he be?
"What can I say? Fashion changes," Pacifica told him passively.
Tightening the tie to the proper length, she stepped back to admire her work. She had to admit that she'd nailed it. For as unassuming as he tried to appear, Troll Boy could really clean up.
Perhaps it was the years spent living with Mabel, but for someone so stubborn, Dipper easily relented to being dressed up. It was undeniable that Dipper looked good in a suit, something she'd known since last summer's ghost-party fiasco, but she wondered if he knew it yet. Part of her selfishly hoped not, as she wanted to keep her makeshift mannequin to herself.
Pacifica steered him to face the mirror, her hands on his shoulders. She shifted to stand at his side.
"There. Much better."
It was much better. The sleek black tuxedo complemented the black sash around her waist. She’d been tempted to make his tie match her dress, but decided it’d be too obvious.
Dipper made a face at his reflection. "Ugh."
“What? You look better this way.”
”No one is going to take me seriously like this!” He protested.
Pacifica huffed. “Actually, I think people will take you seriously for the first time ever. Try not to faint from the attention.”
He rolled his eyes, running his fingers through the front of his hair. She barely bit back a comment about the mess of brown waves on the top of his head, but figured leaving it alone would be their compromise.
”I ask again: who do you think you’re impressing?” Dipper said, shaking his head.
“Everyone,” Pacifica reiterated, “Except for you, I guess.”
”And this is my punishment?”
“Yes.”
Regardless of the small blemish on their reputation, the Northwest’s parties were still highly respected events. Invitations were coveted and precious.
Not to Dipper, of course, but still.
“Besides, I need you here. And Mabel, too,” Pacifica added, softening her voice in a very un-Northwest manner.
Dipper’s irritated expression subsided, replaced with something almost worriful.
"Oh, shoot— Mabel,” he said, suddenly reminded of his twin sister, “Geez, what do you think she’s doing right now?”
“She can trash the place for all I care. I just need the two of you here,” Pacifica replied.
Dipper narrowed his eyes at her, the ghost of a smirk playing on his lips. “Are you begging, Pacifica?”
The low register of his voice sent a shiver down her spine.
“What? No, of course not! I don’t—” she began to stammer before gritting her teeth, “Shut up.”
“I don’t know, I might need payment for sticking around,” Dipper mused, “Maybe in the form of us trashing that horrible carpet your parents love so much?”
It took her a moment to realize it, but Dipper was messing with her.
“In the very least, I’m stealing that stupid bell.”
Dipper, despite whatever he claimed about himself, was surprisingly confrontational. She’d almost forgotten about the whole affair in the aftermath of the ghost encounter. Dipper, however, hadn’t let what he’d seen at Northwest Manor go last year, bothering her about it doggedly until she’d finally shaken him off.
Her parents’ butler bell was particularly offensive, among other things, but she was not going to let Dipper evaluate her psychologically. Lord knows he’d probably love to study her brain… or something.
“If you act normal tonight, I’ll consider it,” Pacifica told him smoothly. Then, pointing to his Reeboks, she added, “You cannot wear those either.”
Dipper threw his hands up. “Seriously? I can’t have anything here!”
She didn’t dignify that with a response, partly because it was true. Nothing about Dipper fit in with the Northwest’s abundance. Not his discount sneakers, and especially not his good intentions.
She scanned the pairs of dress shoes lined up beneath the rack of suits, deliberating between shiny or matte material.
The silence was unsatisfying, so Pacifica decided it was her turn to ask questions.
“How’s life been for you? How’s California?”
“It’s been… whatever, you know. I couldn’t wait to leave and get back here.”
Pacifica raised an eyebrow. “Why?”
She had visited California numerous times. She found it enjoyable and seriously considered relocating there when she got older. She loved the sunny beaches, big shopping malls, and bright lights of Hollywood. If her family's wealth weren't tied to Gravity Falls, she would already be living in California.
She couldn't imagine anyone opting for Gravity Falls instead of one of the coolest cities ever.
Dipper folded his arms across his chest. “Mom and Dad started fighting again,” he grumbled.
"Oh."
While she and the Pines twins were friends, they weren’t quite that kind of friend yet. The kind who spilled their gross, emotional guts about the traumas of their lives. When Dipper and Mabel came to Gravity Falls, they didn’t talk about California; it felt like another world, one far from their small town.
Pacifica had only heard passing mentions of Dipper’s parents, but she’d assumed that since their kids were so full of life, they’d be too. She’d been a combination of both of her parents traits, too, once upon a time.
“I’m sorry. I know how that feels,” she said.
Dipper shrugged. “It’s fine.
Pacifica questioned whether his parents had always been dysfunctional, or maybe it was a recent development. Having grown up in a household filled with conflict, she was accustomed to discord. She'd learned to cope by mirroring her parents' behavior, which meant she became miserable, selfish, and vain.
If the Pines’ parents hadn’t always been unhappy, she could understand why it’d hurt so much.
“Do they fight often?”
"They got into a really bad fight last summer," Dipper pressed two fingers against his temple, "I have nightmares about it sometimes.”
“Was it that bad?”
He shook his head. “I don’t think so. I mean, I’m pretty sure the nightmares were a parting gift from Bill, so I can’t trust them.”
Pacifica shivered at the mere mention of that demon's name. Although the world-ending event lasted just three days, she had experienced more than a lifetime's worth of trauma. The unsettling sensation of her body possessed still occasionally haunted her, and the image of her father's face contorting after Bill had reshaped his features refused to fade from her memory. She couldn't begin to fathom what Dipper and Mabel endured, especially since they had actually managed to defeat Bill.
Through her numerous conversations with Mabel, Pacifica had discovered that the Dipper’s experiences with the evil triangle weren’t limited to Weirdmageddon. Bill had possessed Dipper and ruined Mabel’s puppet show, almost killing Dipper in the process. He’d been haunting Dipper’s nightmares since last year, too.
She hated it. All of it— anything to do with Bill Cipher. If she had one wish, she’d wave her hand and make it all have never happened.
“Sorry, did I ruin the mood?” Dipper flashed her a sheepish smile, “Mabel says I have an oversharing problem.”
“Don’t worry about it. I asked.”
She grabbed a pair of shoes and shoved them at him to break the awkwardness.
“Put these on.”
As he took them and slipped off his sneakers, Pacifica was thankful Dipper had at least had the sense to wear matching socks.
She was definitely staring, but she couldn’t help it.
Dipper Pines was a deeply perplexing individual. One minute, she could swear he was flirting with her; the next, he was confessing to traumatic night terrors. She wished Mabel would just explain the inner workings of her brother’s mind, but she ran the risk of tipping her hand, resulting in relentless teasing from Mabel.
Dipper held out his arms. “Good?”
“Good enough,” she sighed theatrically.
“Hey!”
She laughed, a genuine laugh that truly made her feel lighter.
“We should probably get going,” Pacifica said at last.
“Right,” Dipper nodded, “Gotta check on Mabel… and stuff.”
“If we can find her.”
She winked at him suggestively purely to elicit a disgusted reaction, which she immediately received.
Dipper’s face scrunched up. “Ew, gross. Never say that again. Please.”
Pacifica grinned and moved to the door, prompting Dipper to follow.
“One more thing,” Pacifica said, stopping in the doorway.
She glanced at him over her shoulder, meeting his warm brown eyes, which were slightly wide with anticipation.
“I missed you.”
His expression softened into something almost fond.
“I missed you, too, Paz.”
Pacifica didn’t trust herself to linger in the moment, so she turned away quickly, avoiding letting him see the color on her face.
“Tell anyone I said that and you’re dead, idiot.”
Dipper chuckled. “Said what?”
“Exactly,” Pacifica grinned.
They then hurried down the hall, with him quickly matching her brisk pace as they moved past the empty, opulent corridors. Their footsteps echoed in sync on the Macassar Ebony hardwood floor.
She could feel excitement fluttering in her chest. Not necessarily at the prospect of the party, but for the fun promised by Dipper alongside her.
Standing at the top of the stairs, she surveyed the scene below. This year's theme was vermillion, and the room was elegantly decorated in red. Pops of gold accented the space, wrapping around pillars and hanging from chandeliers. There was a giant statue of a dragon at the center of the room, created through intricate spirals of gold.
Pacifica had to admit, it was stunning.
Downstairs, guests were greeted by wait staff, who handed out champagne and whisked their coats away. Her parents mingled around the room, shaking hands and exchanging haughty laughs with the world’s most prestigious individuals.
Near the refreshments table, Pacifica spotted Mabel with Lucas, and they seemed to be getting along well. Mabel’s smile was so big it would’ve been visible from Mars. A few feet away, Candy and Grenda were not-so-secretly spying on her, and they seemed just as enthusiastic about Mabel’s success as Mabel was.
“Ready?” Dipper leaned in to ask.
She slipped her arm under his, enjoying the brief flash of surprise across his face.
“Ready.”