17th ♕

"That's it! We're doing the interview now," Bridge exploded.

"Now?" I asked, perplexed. "Here."

"I'm not talking about here in the car. We'll reschedule your trip to the market. I'll fix up the press. We're heading straight to the rink and wait for Art to finish his schedule," Bridge informed me, endlessly typing on her phone.

Arriving at the indoor ice rink two hours earlier than scheduled, the members of the entourage were the first ones to go inside the building. Abiding by the protocol to keep everyone safe—taking into consideration the fact that I was getting a lot of hate lately—they thoroughly inspected the place first before letting us in.

The ice rink was new, and it smelled more of newly dried paint and plastic. The temperature was chilly enough for me who was only wearing a sundress, so I had to put on Jack's spare coat, while we waited in the locker room for Lenora and her team to arrive. She was caught up with her other prior engagements and she'd be here in an hour.

While we were waiting for the time to pass, I looked around the place with Jack following me. There were two sections of bleachers. The air became crisp as I trod closer to the rink itself. A safety glass surrounded the ice rink, and I traced my fingers on the surface.

"Have you skate before, Princess?" Jack asked me.

"No," I replied, holding the cold metal railing.

He told me, "But, Princess, you will skate later."

"I'm nervous about it." I threw him a quick smile. "I haven't told Bridge yet, since she seemed eager to finish the day. She'll probably spurt lava later on after she finds out that I have no idea how to walk on ice. Stand on ice. Everything concerning ice."

Jack couldn't answer for a minute.

Going back to the locker room, I said evenly, "I'll figure something out. Don't worry, I know how to ride a skateboard."

"Princess, I hate to break it to you, but it's closer to rollerblades than skateboarding," Jack tried to sound casual, but I knew he was worried.

"Balance and all?"

"No, unfortunately not, Princess," Jack said, his expression softening.

I was in a bigger trouble than I had imagined. I was foolishly thinking that I'd be fine, since I had an idea of balance. I rode bikes and used a skateboard all the time. I never gave it much thought. And apparently, I had bigger problems than not knowing how to skate.

I mean, someone had called me a whore. The word rung in my head like dead noise. If only Bridge hadn't pushed me inside the car and made sure I wouldn't be able to come out, I would have confronted that reporter and tell him that it was not okay to call me like that and get away with it.

Being famous equaled hearing unnecessary things. The reporter's words, Bridge told me, were nothing compared to what I'd see or hear in the news. To what the others had heard all their lives. People would talk about me. They would assume who I was. Some would always try to come up with the nastiest version of me.

During my first briefing with Bridge, I still remembered how she had instructed me not to read the news about me. She'd just tell me when I should read an article. This was when I realized that she did that for me. She had gone through all the gruesome things and only showed me the acceptable ones.

Because it would best to keep a sense of individuality in your head. So when it was time to sleep and you were alone in your room, you'd still know who you were. You'd still know what you were there for. You'd still know who you would be tomorrow. It was so easy to lose yourself in words, in one or two sentences that you heard.

So despite my sense of justice for myself, I had listened to Bridge.

"You can tell me what's on your mind, Princess," Jack said, opening the locker room's door for me.

"It's a whole book," I replied. "But I can assure you, Jack, that you have a good idea already."

"If that's what you say, Princess," Jack replied with a kept smile, instantly turning silent again because we had company. I spotted Love sitting on one side, browsing on her phone. She had also followed us here to the ice rink, and we were both waiting for Lenora.

Did I foolishly believe that everyone would stick with me 'till the end? Of course not. Considering everything, they had to make sure that there would be someone present at the coronation. Anyone would do. It didn't necessarily have to be me.

I sat beside Bridge, noticing that she had finally put her phone inside her coat pocket. "Are you done suing everyone?"

"I'll give myself thirty minutes before the madness starts again. I'm already done setting up your interview. Do you know what you'll say later? Do you want to ask anything about it?"

"No, I'm good."

"Don't hesitate on asking me anything, Georgiette. Anything." Bridge stood up, evening her skirt. "I have to take a look at the venue."

"I'll go with you."

"I need to relax, Georgiette."

"Please? I just want to get out of there. I'm very uncomfortable being left in the same room with my ex-best friend." I just kept on walking beside her.

"I heard the news. The Queen also has her eyes on her lately. She likes her. She even permitted her to hang out with you," Bridge informed me.

I felt rejected. That surely hurt.

"I didn't mean to sound so pessimistic. The Queen has no idea that you two are hardly friends now," Bridge said. "As always, things are messed up. I never saw the palace without a chaos of any kind."

"Has it always been like this?"

She shrugged. "I used to cause it before, anyway. What is there to be surprised about?"

"Who are you kidding?" I replied in utter disbelief.

"I did." Bridge was laughing, while pulling out her planner and writing something she remembered. "I was even better than you. In fact, I used to cause all this trouble that the Queen herself would have a meticulous talk to me."

"Was this the time you were with Prince William? That was the only reason I could imagine you doing something like that," I asked in a beat, too late for me to take it back. "I'm sorry. Should I have not asked?"

Bridge was quiet for a while.

"It's so stupid of me. Sorry for even asking, Bridge."

"It's fine. I can tell you my story, for a change. Well, I'm sure Art was the one who told you about that. And to answer your question, yes, it was during that time."

"No way."

She smiled. "When Will and I were together, we used to sneak out all the time. Once or twice, we got caught up with a mob with no bodyguards and we didn't know what to do. Those were the times when I was personally called by the Queen. He would be scolded by his father. That was the usual drill. Once or twice was mildly putting it. We did it all the time."

"You went out without the entourage? What if something happened?" I said with a dart of anxiety.

"Horrible things could have happened. We knew that. But it felt good to be young and free. To feel like nothing could take you down, thinking you could conquer the world," Bridge wistfully replied, sitting on the bleachers.

I took a seat beside her. "And then?"

"We used to be classmates in high school. Childhood sweethearts. My family was well-acquainted with them. I think they all met in college. So despite Will and I going against the rules all the time, I was never that worried."

"So that is why," I said.

"I knew the Queen ever since I was little. I never fully understood the power she has until I was in high school. She's like an aunt to me. Most of the time, I just look at her that way. They both remind me of my parents," Bridge went on.

"What happened to them?"

"They're both gone. A car accident."

"I'm sorry."

"Not your fault, Georgiette. Don't be sorry."

"I know. But sorry for asking."

"It has been years. Almost nine years now," Bridge explained to me. "I just turned twenty back then."

"That was just right after the coronation," I paused, hesitating.

"Yes, of Princess Elaine. It was right about that time. Will and I broke up earlier that summer, before the search," Bridge willingly elaborated.

"I'm terribly sorry for asking. I'm very insensitive." I should just go die in a hole.

"No," Bridge replied with an easy laugh. "I told you, it's fine. I'm not going to tell you my life if I'm not okay with it. It feels good talking about it for the first time, or second time. I actually talked about this with Art before, when he was mature enough not to call me cooties every time he saw me with his brother."

"That was very mature of him," I chimed in.

"He was just a kid when Will and I officially started going out. If we were sixteen, then he was just seven. It was understandable." Bridge couldn't help but laugh aloud. It was good seeing her let her guards down.

"He must have been a really cute kid."

"Yeah, called me cooties and acted really cute. Forgivable. I saw him grow up, so I wasn't surprised. He was always the one to joke around. The one who's laid-back."

"So the news was true?"

"About him being laid-back? Yes, definitely. We always have to force him to go to events. But even if he's like that, he always does his duties. He loves his family."

"I've also noticed that."

Bridge turned to me. "Which was why when he said that he wanted you to be the princess-in-training, everyone was surprised. And since he rarely asked, the Queen had to consider you, by all means."

"Hero doesn't bite me off, so I'll bet that's why," I said, blushing too obviously.

"It's because he likes you," she indicated.

I couldn't answer at first. After a moment, I said to Bridge, "Can I ask one more stupid thing?"

"Go ahead."

"Why did you break up with Prince William?"

She deeply exhaled. "I tried for the princess search. I was one of the top ten."

"You did? That was why?" I asked, sounding unsure that I was following.

"You did not have to sound that surprised. Let me finish first," she responded.

"Oh, okay," I said right away.

"I tried for the princess search. I was included in the top ten, without anyone knowing that I had dated Will. The royal publicists knew how to take care of those pictures from when we were young and always sneaking out."

"They do that?"

"It's their job," she said. "It was easier before, anyway."

"What happened after?"

"The Queen didn't get in the way of the assessment. I knew she would, but I asked her for a favor to let me do it the way everyone else did. Maybe I was waiting for Will to choose me in that search. I knew that he had the power to do so," Bridge stopped, taking a breath.

"He didn't?" I hesitated once more.

She unwillingly nodded. "He didn't. That was when I knew it was over for us. We were great together. It could have been a perfect love story."

"So why didn't it become a perfect love story?"

"I made a mistake." Bridge's look was far off, to the other side of the rink. Beyond that. To a place she probably wished she were.

"What mistake?"

"I realized who the Queen is when I've become a teenager. I fully realized what Will is a little too late."

"What do you mean?"

"For me, he was just my childhood crush. I knew his mother's the queen. I knew, somehow, he's a prince. He's the eldest, so he would take over the throne."

"And then?"

"I also realized that I'm just the daughter of two scholarship geeks his parents met in college. I was no one. I had nothing. If anything, and for the record, my mother told me I was pretty and gifted with a great mind."

"You are," I told her.

"Thanks. And so I told him all that. I told him that I wasn't good enough for him. That I'd never be able to fill the spot her mother would leave someday." Bridge frowned to herself. I found myself letting out a withheld breath. She continued, "But I still tried. I tried to take back my words. I tried to see if I could do it, like what Will had told me."

"And then?"

"Someone much better in every way and as if made for the title was the one I was up against with in the search. I mean, we were up against with. The nine of us knew that from the moment we saw her and heard her talk, we knew it was over."

"And that would be Princess Elaine?"

"Yes, there would be no other," Bridge answered. "Will let the panel choose. They, of course, had chosen her."

"Why did he do that?"

Bridge smiled wryly in response. And then, she went on, "After that, I cut off all communications with Will. I let him be. I did my best in school, feeling like I needed to prove myself something. I wasn't sure why. I wasn't even sure what. A ton of scholarships later, I got several degrees. But it almost didn't mean anything, you know? It's hard, George. To have achieved so much, and at the end of the day, to have achieved none."

"I'm sorry."

"Why are you apologizing if it wasn't your fault?" Bridge eyed me, almost sounding normal and past the scratchy voice.

"It's a hobby."

"You know one thing, George? I can't change the way you look at yourself. I know that there's someone inside you who can relate to my story. I know you sometimes feel that you don't deserve any of this. I can't change that. I can tell you my story, but I can't do anything about that. That's why, at this point, you're the only one who can rescue yourself. From your own eyes. Your own judgments. You're the first one who should believe that you deserve the best things in this world."

I looked away, preventing the tears from falling.

It would always be a sad story for her. If only the Bridge from before knew that she was now more than qualified for the position she had once thought was unattainable, things might have ended up differently.

"I'm right, am I?" she quietly asked me.

I nodded.

"Good. At least my story will serve its purpose." She placed a hand on my right arm.

"Will you ever forget?" I asked her, considering in thought that I might take the same path later. In the years to come, would I have the same look in Bridge's eyes? That same feeling inside me that he already had someone else and there was nothing I could do about it. And that he loved her, and I was just a part of his past.

All together forgotten.

"I don't know. Maybe." Bridge shrugged. "Slowly, I think I'm getting there. I can smile again. I can stop myself from shaking every time I see him. It will be okay."

"Certain?" I started to look anxious.

"No, hoping," Bridge admitted.

"Can I ask one more stupid question?"

"Okay. I'm being generous here." Bridge stretched her legs and examined the slight run in her stockings. "I hope this stocking will last. I'm not sure I have a spare at my bag. So your question is?"

"Why did you choose to work at the palace? I mean, you could have been anywhere. If it hurt you so much, why did you work there?" I asked, my words tumbling their way out.

"My reasons are selfish," she said, sounding embarrassed.

"I have far more selfish reasons. No one could beat the fact that I'm here because I needed a job," I consoled her.

"Well, that's a first, really. I've never heard of that before. But yours is honest. It is a job. At the end of a day and past the ball gowns and limelight, it is still a job. You wake up early, dress up, do your schedule for the day, and have some time for yourself before going to bed. It is a job." Bridge turned her head to me, almost looking proud if my eyes weren't deceiving me. With a hefty sigh, she continued, "But mine is selfish."

"How?"

"I just wanted to be near him. I'm not exactly going to ruin their marriage. I'm never going to do that. I haven't talked to Will beyond what is due. I just wanted to see him every day if seeing was the only thing I could do."

That sounded horrible. "Aren't you going to be torn to pieces by that?"

"Nowadays, no. I'm okay. I can't say that I don't love him anymore. A part of me still do. But I know that he's not mine. He'll never be. My theory is that I'm going to build a sort of immunity towards him. I tried studying abroad before and all that. But the more that I wondered what he was doing, the more I kept my feelings alive."

Now I was feeling hopeless. "Still sounds tragic, Bridge."

"I know. So I tried the other one. I applied for a job here at the palace, despite the Queen personally telling me not to hurt myself to that extent. But I insisted that I had a theory I needed to prove. And I was right. It was better," Bridge was saying.

"How is that better?" It sounded like nightmare for me.

She replied thoughtfully, "At first, I thought I couldn't make it. Now that I see him happy with Elaine, I'm starting to feel all right with it. People have different ways when it comes to moving on. Some gets busy with their lives. Others find another love. There are other ways aside from that. It's different for everyone. For me, this was what worked. I'm proud of myself that I learned how to be happy for them."

"That must have hurt like hell."

"At first, it was like hell collided with earth, and I was stuck in between. But it's how immunity works. You have to get hurt first. But later on, you'll feel nothing at all."

"I still like the part wherein you just get yourself busy," I said eventually.

"If that works for you," she subtly replied. "I hope that doesn't mean that you're planning to break up with Art."

She hit bull's eye. "It's not like that."

"I'm good at reading people, George. I don't know what's going to happen tomorrow. It's not in my hands if you change your heart or the plans you have for the future. I'll respect your decision. But as early as now, I'm telling you that I will hold a grudge if you would hurt my little brother. It's like a protective instinct. No hard feelings," Bridge warned me, her nose screwed up.

"Yes, I know that," I said, smiling.

"So you better not be thinking of breaking up with him. I'm telling you, you don't want me for your enemy. I'm scarier than your ex-best friend there."

"I don't think you can be better than her. You're too honest," I said.

"You do not seem to be threatened enough."

"You're hardly frightening."

"I should practice my craft more," she laughed.

We were interrupted when Jack went to me and leaned down to whisper something—to which Bridge raised an eyebrow. And what he told me, as if instinctively, panic shot up inside me. I had to thank Jack from time to time. I absolutely appreciated that he specifically warned me that Art had arrived.

"You tamed the beast," Bridge observed.

"Who? Jack?" I asked in disbelief.

"He's finally speaking to someone and going out his way to inform you about..." The locker room door opened and came about a group of people, who were mostly composed of men wearing suits. In the center, there was no other than Art himself. I flinched in my spot. Bridge threw me a suspicious look. "...Art. Of course, Art. You and Jack are hiding something from me."

"We are not," I said in too much haste that I did sound guilty in the end.

"I'll give him a quick briefing. You will have the interview after the video shoot," Bridge informed me.

"Sure," I replied nonchalantly. Art was here. I felt like being one with the ice rink. Let me melt.

Jack said, "Princess, are you sure you're going to be all right for the video shoot?"

"Yeah, come to think of it, she said there's a video shoot," I said, wondering if I'd missed it earlier. Was I supposed to twirl on ice? I hoped not. "I'm going crazy. Why didn't I hear that part?"

"Breathe deeply, Princess. Inhale, exhale," Jack coached me.

I did what he told me, unsure if there was a better way. "Inhale. Exhale."

"Are you feeling better?"

"Yes, this is working." I continued breathing in and out.

"I'm glad," said Jack. "Yoga applies to our daily lives as well, you see. You should take more classes with me."

Bridge called from a distance, "George, come down. Lenora's here."

"Oh, okay," I said, my voice trembling. As I was coming down the bleachers, I caught a glimpse of Art. But he was careful enough not to let us have any eye contact. He must be really mad at me. Should I make a flying banner telling him that I was sorry for something I didn't even do?

♔~♕

Back in the locker room, Lenora accommodated both me and Love at the same time. She got two more assistants compared to the usual team. I already knew why, so I didn't ask her. Love was officially part of the team now.

"Can I put the earmuffs later?" I asked them, as they were placing it over my head. It was for completing the winter outfit.

"Yes, that would be okay," Famy replied.

When they finished curling my hair, I got up and straightened the blue skirt over my white tights. The skirt only covered almost half of my legs, so I kept on making them miraculously stretch. Giving up a second later and before I'd get busted destroying my skirt, I walked in my slippers and carried the pink ice skates they wanted me to use.

Tucking in the earmuffs around my neck, I figured now might be the best time to tell Bridge that I was only dressed but I very much lacked the ice skating skills. Gathering enough shame and courage, I went to her and asked, "Can we talk outside?"

"You're making me nervous. What is it you want to tell me?" Bridge asked, opening the door.

"Something very important," I replied.

"Art," she said, finding him outside the door, already waiting. She was standing in between us. Why was Bridge so skinny and wouldn't be able to hide at least half of my light pink winter jacket right now?

"Shall we start? They're already setting up," Art said to Bridge, pointing to the ice rink. Art was dressed up in a winter jacket that was the color of my skirt. He was wearing jeans and holding black ice skates in his hand.

They went on with their conversation. When I looked over at the rink, I saw that they had prepared sleds. I sighed in relief. I'd be okay in sleds

"So what did you want to tell me?" Bridge asked, as we were standing right there, beside Art and five of his bodyguards.

I had actually called her outside in order to prevent publicly humiliating myself. "Um, can we move just a bit farther?"

"Where? Here's fine." Bridge looked at me skeptically, but she followed just the same.

"I don't know how to skate," I finally admitted to her, when we were at a safe distance. "I do not know how to skate. This is my first time in an ice rink."

"What?" she exclaimed.

"Shh!"

"Are you serious?" Bridge asked me. "Oh, please tell me you were just kidding. There's no way you do not know how to skate. Where have you spent your childhood?"

"I didn't know how." I had a complicated childhood. I'd be thrown to and fro. We didn't have that much time to consider skating in between all the moving.

"Okay, not everyone does. I just assumed that since you were athletic, you have an idea," Bridge told me, apologetic.

"So what are we supposed to do? Twirl? I hope not?"

"Of course not. You will just have to do the basic. That's the reason why I was never worried. I thought you'd at least know how to slide on the ice."

"And now that I don't, what happens?"

"The theme of your video shoot is Love on Ice," Bridge told me.

"I will be included in Love on Ice with Art?" I asked her. She nodded, looking at her planner. "So what are we supposed to do during that video shoot?"

"Show that you're in love while on ice," Bridge indicated. "That's the idea. Art knows how to skate, so at least you're in good hands. I'll tell him to teach you right now. You're already dressed. You learn the basics while they're setting up. You'll get it in thirty minutes, no worries."

"I'm not sure—"

"I'll tell him for you," she said. Bridge went over to Art and informed him about my unfortunate situation. I kept on fiddling with my skates, casting a spell on it out of desperation. After a minute, she called, "Georgiette, come along. He'll teach you."

Pulling my head up, I looked at her. Art was already walking towards the ice rink. I had no choice but to follow after him. We put on our skates on without saying a word to each other. No one wanted to break the silence barrier.

After carefully tying the laces of his skates, Art stood up and went inside the rink effortlessly. This time around, he looked at me while waiting and rubbing his mitted hands together. I swallowed, trying to keep my eyes straight ahead. But I kept on looking down. I couldn't help the fact that my eyes were getting attracted to the rubber matted floor.

And then came judgment time.

I had to step in there. Art wasn't offering a hand to me, or anything. He just stood there, two meters away from where I was struggling. I just had to think of the time I had rode a skateboard. But I couldn't recall the feeling. I couldn't remember anything.

There was a railing at the sides of the rink, so I held on to it. Okay, I just needed to do the first step. It was always the hardest, but it must happen for the others to follow as well.

So with all the courage left in me, I took that first step. My first thought was that it was slippery. That was to be expected. Soon enough, I knew I would fall and embarrass myself.

In just a matter of minute.

In my attempt to turn back and face Art while holding to the metal railing, which became my lifeline, I lost whatever balance I managed to have and was about to fall, but someone caught my arm. It could only be one person, unless Jack or one of the entourage outside the rink had teleported himself to where I was falling.

Firmly holding my arm, he said, "Lean down and hold your knees to steady yourself."

"Art..." I abruptly turned around, which ended up with me falling down straight to the ice. The warm tights I was wearing paid off. If I was wearing stockings, it would have a huge hole on my butt right now. "Ouch. Just when I said to myself I'll try not to fall."

"It's almost impossible not to fall. Try standing up," he said.

"Okay," I said in agreement, pushing myself up. But to no avail, I had no idea how a person could stand up without having to crawl. I hoped that was not the reason why I was wearing mittens.

"Slowly," Art patiently added.

"Even the kids can do it easily," I said under my breath, finding a way to somehow stabilize myself on my feet. Trying to carry on the conversation, I asked him, "Did you come from the orphanage?"

"Yes," he answered. "Lean down a bit and make small steps. Your feet should be in V-shape. It would be easier that way. You can listen to the music. It would help."

"You're right. There's a music playing," I said, realizing it just now. I tried to follow the beat. "Woah... I'm going to... fall."

I slipped again.

"Come on, stand up," he said, holding my arm. When I was back on my feet, he said, "Don't push back. Just keep that V-shape form and slide."

"I'm sorry," I suddenly told him.

"For what?" he quietly asked.

"For not calling last night," I replied, "after what happened in the news."

"I saw Love in the palace yesterday," Art said. I lifted my face, realizing our close proximity. He was still holding my arm, and this might be the first time I looked him in the eyes today. "She told me that what Robin said in the news was rubbish. That she had been going out with him for the most part of your high school years. That those pictures were taken during your freshman year. She even told me that you just had cut your hair during that time and donated it."

"I was going to sell it," I replied.

"She also said that was what you always said. But in the end, you would still end up filling up that donation form and ask your mom for consent," he said.

"Let's go practice," I said in response, feeling discomfited.

"Why was she the first one to tell me about it?" Art asked, holding my hand. "I was just waiting for you to tell me a word. You didn't even call or text me. Care to tell me your side? I'm more interested in yours, no?"

"I'm sorry," I said, taking a deep breath. "I should have."

"I have to agree with that," he said.

"Next time?" I asked, meeting his eyes. After this, I decided that I would tell him everything. He didn't have to hear it from anyone else.

He nodded.

"I'm terrible with small talks and ice skating," I told him. He mischievously smiled, picking up the pace as he was holding my hand. He was pulling me along with him. "Wait, Art. No, I'm going to fall."

"You will if you don't stop panicking," he replied with a laugh, slowing down a bit.

"Inhale. Exhale," I repeated Jack's yoga instructions in my head.

"You're really cute when you're always trying to do things by yourself," Art observed.

"Do not distract me."

"Am I a distraction?" He teasingly pulled me again. In turn, I lost control and ended up straight to him. "Get back up. George, try to—"

We both ended up slamming to the floor. I was on top, so I checked on him first, waving a hand in front of his face. "Art, you okay?"

"I'm fine. I think. Let me just get up first," Art replied, bending his knees up and placing his weight on his elbows. As I moved back a little, my right knee slipped and I fell on him again. I heard him mutter, "Ouch."

"Sorry." I hastily got off him, face flushed. "Are you okay?"

"You keep on falling for me," he said. Finally, getting up this time, he looked straight to my eyes, adding, "No pun intended."

"Yeah, I keep on doing that." I laughed, watching as he smoothly got up.

"Here," Art said, offering a hand to me. "Let's enjoy this video shoot. Did you notice that they're already filming us?"

"What?" I looked around. Yes, the spotlight was on us, as different colors danced around the rink. "When did this start? Bridge's over there with the director."

"She was probably the one who gave the cue," he replied.

"What are we going to do?"

"Just be yourself. You're always worried about everything." Art shot me a bright smile. Placing my earmuffs over my ears, he added, "Come on, earmuffs, show me that smile."

"You sounded like the photographer. That was exactly what he had told me so that he could make me smile the last time I posed for the camera," I said, flustered.

"He called you earmuffs?" he repeated, bewildered. "Should I be worried?"

"No, earmuffs. He was just someone from my past," I humorously answered him, watching as the colorful lights danced around us, slowly dimming because the spotlight started to become too bright.

Maybe I wasn't alone in all this, after all. I didn't know for the whole world, but I got some people who meant exactly like that to me—the whole world. Let me just re-evaluate my list:

☐Mom no. 2 (Hannah, of course.)

☐Jack (He was far too nice.)

☐Pete (Like he had a choice.)

☐Lenora (She said so?)

☐Bridge (It was her job.)

☒Love (Not a chance.)

☐Art ♥ (I did not put that heart there! What was wrong with me?)