Juniper Juarez wished she had gotten on the plane. Strolling through the familiar layout of the Variety Playhouse, Juniper wished for nothing else. Well, maybe one other wish gnawed at her, but it was as impossible as the whole plane fiasco. He had made his choice, and it hadn't been her.

Her eyes scanned the young crowd in the small concert theater for her friend, still not seeing her. With purple hair, Bethany was hard to miss. She might've been in the bathroom, or laughing backstage with the roadies. Juniper was willing to wait, even if the hardcore metal group on stage gave her a headache. The actual song was okay; the way the singer screamed the lyrics was not okay. When choosing a song, Juniper liked to know what the singer whined on about. For the length of two excruciating songs, Juniper lingered. If Bethany didn't make an appearance soon, she planned on thumbin' it home.

That's what happens when a man convinces you to sell your car and apartment. You end up being fucked, she thought.

After years of being fucked, Juniper found what she disliked most was being fucked over by her husband. Sometimes she still thought about his proposal, and how she had naively accepted...

(some months before)

Brrring.

Juniper fumbled for the telephone in the dark."Hello?"

"Hi there, June."

"Christopher?" It was a dumb question, since one else called her by that nickname. "Don't call me June. What do you want at three-fucking-a.m.?"

Her crankiness did little to dispel his chipper voice. "Oh, so you're the only one allowed to ask for post-midnight favors?"

She relented, because he had helped her more than once, and usually without expecting anything in return. If he needed help, Juniper was ready.

"Christ, what is it?" she asked.

"Is that my new nickname?"

She sighed. "What is it, man?"

"Marry me."

Don't you love him too, Ashley had asked her.

It wasn't help Christopher was after, but Juniper wanted to be sure.

"What?"

"You heard me," he said.

Time to sit up. "I can't believe you're proposing to me over the telephone."

"I've asked you face to face plenty of times. Over the phone, I figured I could handle the rejection better."

Christopher always knew what to say to make her smile. Funny as he was, she couldn't marry him, and he knew it. She reminded him why:

"If I put my name on a document like a marriage license, they'll find me in two seconds."

"With my special skills, we don't have to worry about that. I could print you out a new life just like that." Over the ear piece, she heard him snap his fingers.

The conversation about marriage had gone further than any other. The first few times, Christopher casually dropped the proposal, like a joke. When his proposals shifted to intense, Juniper still told him no without an explanation. This time, he struck down her excuse. She had nothing else to counter with.

Christopher seized on her hesitation to add, "Please, June. I know you love me, too. Plus, the world is going to shit, so we should be together as long as we can."

He didn't have to tell her. Plenty of her working-class acquaintances had gone missing recently, and she was lucky not to be one of them. And she did love him. What was stopping her? Pride? Shame?

The world was going, and she would go along with it. Christopher was willing to accept her, checkered past and all.

"Okay," she said.

"Really?" His tone was disbelieving.

"Yes, damnit, really. I'll marry you."

"God, I love you." His voice streamed thick with tears. "Can I come over?"

She smiled, hoping he could hear the smile in her voice. "Yes!"

They hung up. Juniper sat up in bed, listening for a knock at the door. She couldn't remember being so excited to see someone. Hope bloomed inside her like never before.

Is this really happening? Everything's going to be alright, everything's going to be okay, everything's...

Fucked. Absolutely smashed. Bethany was good and drunk. The little pixie staggered over to Juniper quite comically.

"Hello, sweetie," Bethany said. For a drunk, her friend spoke quite clearly.

"Hi, Bethany."