I didn't know why I'd packed so pathetically light for a trip I knew was going to last a whole month. Maybe because part of me thought it wouldn't last. But here we were, coming up on show five with more lasting power than I ever anticipated...thanks to Polly fucking Pocket and No fucking Scrubs.

At least packing light gave me a good excuse to stay behind and wrestle with the ancient washer and dryer at the end of the hallway while everyone else went to dinner when we got to Burlington. I could drink my tea, watch my movie, and overthink everything else that was going on in peace.

Growing up, my mother always had our laundry sent out, so it wasn't until I was older and had moved out that I got to experience the inexplicably euphoric feeling of putting on clean, warm clothes straight out of the dryer. I didn't even wait to get back to the room to change into a t-shirt and sweats, then carried the rest back.

After jamming my clean clothes into my duffle bag, I settled into the stiff hotel bed I was sharing with Gareth and opened my laptop. I was on the hunt for a short film I'd been reading about, and maybe it had only been because I was mentally preparing for jump scares that I shrugged off the sound of something rustling in the bathroom. Silence amplified everything, and I wasn't easily rattled.

But when the bathroom door swung open, and Sienna came out wrapped in a fluffy white towel with wet hair clinging to her bare shoulders, I realized that I was the jump scare.

"Oh my god, what are you doing here?" she squealed, stumbling back into the doorway of the bathroom.

"Me?" I snapped back. "What are you doing here?"

"I thought you went to dinner with them."

"I thought you went to dinner with them."

Suddenly the realization hit her that not only was she just in a towel, but I was trying not to gawk at her and her long, tan legs in said towel. Despite feeling heat creeping up my neck, I couldn't bring myself to look away.

"I just..." she gripped the edges of it with white knuckles as she tip-toed over to her bag by the other bed. "I need to finish the t-shirt designs and send them to the printing company so they can be ready for the New Hampshire show."

Right. The merch. Sienna had gone on the entire ride up to Vermont about how she had hundreds of DMs asking if we had a merch table at any upcoming shows, and when the realization was made that we had nothing, she insisted on making us shirts. I wasn't sure that was actually part of what she signed up for (or what I harangued her for), but she was doing it anyway.

"And if memory serves me correctly," she continued as she dug through her bag. "You want to see them before they're done anyway."

"I do," I grumbled.

She bolted back into the bathroom and slammed the door behind her, and I dug my nails into my thighs.

There goes my fucking peace and quiet.

She emerged quickly, thankfully fully clothed this time in that pink velvety-looking sweatsuit she'd worn before that had no business being as enticing as it was, but I'd come to realize that's what happened when girls like her wore anything. She was probably enticing in a garbage bag. 

"So I finished one." She hopped up onto the other bed and spun her open laptop around so the screen was facing me. She had a picture up of one shirt mock-up, and it was just like those I <3 NY shirts that were sold at all the tourist trap stands, except it said I <3 THE GREEN INFERNO. I didn't know what I expected, but definitely not something as annoyingly clever as that.

"I like it," I admitted softly. "I mean, I half expected it to be pink, but..."

"Oh, give me some time," she smirked as she spun her laptop back towards her. "There's more shirts to be made."

"Great," I grumbled and went back to my own laptop. "Can't wait."

I thought about putting my headphones on, but there was something inexplicably soothing about the combination of the faint sound of her nails clacking against her laptop and the hum of the AC unit. I wasn't alone, but I didn't have to beg someone to keep me company. Knowing someone was just there was comforting, even though I was overcome with the urge on more than one occasion to look over at her.

When I slid another glance in her direction, she was gazing out over the top of her laptop, almost dead-eyed at the blank television screen. I knew that look - she'd fallen into the deep void of distraction. And now it was distracting me.

"Okay, I can literally see the smoke coming off of you like you're about to combust," I told her. "So whatever else you want to say, just say it."

Sienna perked up immediately, sliding her laptop off of her lap and spinning around so that she was fully facing me, legs crossed underneath her. "Oh thank god, I'm terrible at keeping secrets."

I snorted. "Why does that not surprise me?"

She took my jab in stride and exhaled before continuing on. "I know. I mean, about the...Kato thing."

Oh.

I thought about flipping the panic switch, but I heaved out a sigh and steadied myself. She was decidedly not stupid, and I would be the stupid one if I thought she wouldn't figure it out eventually. But that didn't mean I had to entertain it any further. "Congrats, you can use Google."

Sienna shifted on the bed slightly, and she fiddled with that silver charm bracelet she always wore. I'd seen her do it once or twice before, and without thinking I felt myself reach up and run my finger over the scar on my throat. "Well, Google can't tell me everything."

"Like what?" I scoffed. "You want to know the exact level of pretentiousness my family name carries? What exclusive social clubs and parties the Kato name can get you into?"

She shrugged. "No, more like why you don't even go by your family name."

"I'm sure you can just Google that too."

"I want to hear it from you."

"Why?" I groaned, feeling my blood start to boil. "I'm not an emotional fucking charity case, Sienna."

"I don't want you to feel that way, Devon. I just...I don't understand why it's so hard for you to believe that I just want to get to know you." Before either of us could digest what she just said, she course-corrected. "I mean, we're stuck together for another three weeks. So, please stop making it all so difficult. I'm over here trying. The least you could do is try and be receptive of that."

But there was that look again. The same one she'd given me that first night on the bus, and that night by the pool. It made me ache. She was taking a sledgehammer to all the walls I'd build around myself. The walls were still part of me, and it ached to feel them crack and break.

"I'll tell you something first." She pulled at the sleeves of her sweatshirt. "Like...I don't go by my real name either."

"Really?" I arched an eyebrow at her. "Why do I feel like you're just trying to humor me?"

She shook her head with pinched lips. "Sienna's made up. It's not even like, my middle name or anything. My name's Mary Ann."

I snorted. "Mistress Mary quite contrary."

"Exactly." She rolled her eyes, but smiled just enough to ease the tension I'd collected in my shoulders. "It's the name of an old librarian."

"So where'd you get Sienna from?"

Her smile widened. "Well, alliteration is sexy. So I just picked a name I liked that started with S to go with Stuart. Haven't been Mary since I moved to New York."

That got a real laugh out of me, and I felt the tempo of my heartbeat kick up against my chest. "You know, uh...the final girl in the Terrifier movies is named Sienna. She's pretty badass, so..."

I shrugged, but she kept smiling. "I mean, I will never watch those movies, but...I like that."

It all seemed so inconsequential. What did I gain from knowing that her real name was Mary? Nothing, except that she clearly trusted me in a way that made me want to trust her, too. I wasn't sure what I'd done to earn that, but she was right - I owed it to her to try.

I gently closed my laptop, but I kept my eyes on the little glowing Apple logo. "You know how I told you I went to Juilliard? What I didn't tell you was that I dropped out halfway through sophomore year."

"Really? Why?"

I let out a hollow chuckle and flexed my hands against my thighs. "Because I decided I wasn't going to settle for first cello in the New York Philharmonic for the rest of my life playing Swan Lake six times a week for rich tourists and people like my parents."

She nodded, slowly and contemplatively, like she was intently listening. "I take it your family didn't like that."

My whole body groaned, like I could feel the walls crumbling. "No, the only thing my family didn't like was being embarrassed. Because I was...I was too scared to tell them I had dropped out, so when they showed up to our winter semester final at the Lincoln Center, which I was supposed to have two separate solo performances, I obviously wasn't in the program. They had to find out from one of my professors, and...well, use your fucking imagination."  

"Shit," she hissed through her teeth.

I pulled at a stray thread on the itchy red comforter of the bed. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure my dad would have rather had me commit a felony, because at least he could have covered that up. But when your own child humiliates you like that...that shit sticks with you. So we don't speak anymore, and I'm not a Kato. Legally maybe, but not really. That's all."

That wasn't all, but I'd already let enough spill through the cracks. It was too complicated, and I was tired of her looking at me the way she did.

My throat clogged up with tears that threatened to come spilling out at any moment, and I reached over to take a big gulp of my tea in hopes of washing it all down. "Satisfied now?" I choked out.

I'd been so hyper-focused on keeping the walls from collapsing entirely that I hadn't realized she'd gotten up and lowered herself onto the bed beside me, leaning over and wrapping her arms around my neck. She smelled clean, and a warmth came over me like a blanket.

To my own surprise, I gave in and just let her linger there. I was too weak to fight it - weak from this gnawing hunger in me, so starved to be touched like this that even the act of her arms around my shoulders and layers of clothes between us almost made me nauseous. Like, the way that when you're sick you know you should eat even though it makes you feel gross.

She didn't feel all that gross though. She felt good.

"Thanks for telling me," she said softly, her breath warm on my neck. "I'm sorry for jumping you, you just...you looked like you really needed a hug."

"Yeah," I mumbled, making a concerted effort not to turn into putty in her arms. "Guess so."

She finally unwound herself from me, but she didn't move, keeping her thigh pressed against mine. We held each other's gaze for a moment, and I kept telling myself that the way my heart thundered in my chest was just a lingering reaction to the way she held me, and it would go away. It had to. Eventually.

⋆ ★

if you're interested in actually seeing the t-shrits and whatnot, you can check out 'the green inferno' section! sienna (me) worked hard on these!

the thing that hung me up the most about this chapter was determining whose POV it should be in, but i settled on devon because he really needed his 'have i caught feelings or am i just so touch starved' moment, and sienna already had her caught feelings moment LOL. i think the thing i love the most about dual pov is seeing as a reader that they're both starting to catch feelings but also seeing that neither one of them seems to realize it so there's just a whole lot of bullshit and denial hehehe