Giselle couldn't believe what had happened a few moments ago. Chris? Chris for her? Impossible! They were nothing but great friends, and she wasn't ready to let herself think about him that way when she clearly loved someone else.

She wrapped her sweater tighter around herself as she passed through the deserted alley toward the café Xavier waited for her in. The dusk was only an hour away. This was her last evening with her boyfriend, and she couldn't untangle the clutter inside her mind.

Her thoughts drifted back to her father's words, and she wondered what had led him to such thoughts. Chris was her childhood friend.

Sure, here and there, she thought about him in a way that burned her cheeks, but she never acted upon them. Even that didn't matter because it'd been a long time since she had a wicked thought about him. Besides, she wasn't ready to let anything ruin her friendship with the only loyal person she knew.

Chris had always been there for her. He was there even before she understood the difference between a boy and a girl. She recalled moving into her new house in Phoenix when she was five years old. She met the son of her father's friends who was taller and five years older than her, but she'd befriended him instantly. The first words he'd said to her were, "Nice pigtails."

She smiled at the memory despite herself.

She remembered him having his own friends, but he'd ditch them to play with her, whether he liked the games she chose or not. One time, she'd fallen off her pink bicycle and scraped her knee. Chris had steadied her on her feet, dusted off her clothes, wiped her tears, and to make her smile, he'd kicked her bicycle and called it "doodie" for hurting her. It had made her giggle.

Later, they'd had ice cream and watched cartoons.

On rainy days, they'd play in the park till they were drenched. They'd let it fall all over them. They loved playing the game of catching each other, where one would run and the other would try to grab. They'd always end up falling in the mud, and their laughter would echo.

But as they grew older, she started wearing looser clothes, embarrassed about her new curves. She was always painfully aware of how she looked around him. They'd stopped playing catching games, for his touch would send tingles through her body.

Sometimes when he looked at her a certain way, her stomach would knot, and she'd curse herself for it. She hated the new feelings, hated that the brown of his eyes mesmerized her. Especially when he looked at her under the rain, his pupils would turn from brown to black. She used to always find that intriguing.

Throughout her entire life, she never found a better friend than him. No one treated her the way he did. No one clicked the way they did.

She was there to cheer for him when he tried out for football, and even in his final year in college when he was the team captain. She'd visited him for the final match, and she was the first person he'd hugged after winning, even when all the cheerleaders were chanting his name.

Maybe, that was why they made no other friends because they were enough for each other.

Chris did have one other friend, though, from high school. She'd seen him a few times when she was young. Last they'd seen each other was seven years ago. He and Chris had gone for a small summer trip to Aquaville when they were in college, but that was it.

But ever since he'd moved to the UK, it was always just Chris and Giselle.

A few months before that trip, Chris's father and his stepmother were in a car accident when they were coming back from a restaurant on the top of a hill on their fifth wedding anniversary. Both had died on the spot when their car hit a rock and fell off the edge.

Giselle had never seen Chris so broken before and never did so after that day. He'd rushed from his college, looking haunted. He couldn't even talk. He tried giving a eulogy at their funeral, but couldn't say a word due to his stammer.

After the funeral, he stayed cooped up in either his room or Giselle's for weeks. It was the first time she'd hugged him since he'd gone to college, and that hug didn't spark any electricity. It was pure. He'd cried in her arms, after burying his parents. That whole night, Chris stayed up in her room, staring at the floor. She didn't ask him any questions. She didn't even console him. The only thing she did was sit beside him, her head on his shoulder, tears falling one by one.

She was sure of her feelings toward him that day. Only friendship. Otherwise, she convinced herself, that his touch would've knotted her stomach the way his glance used to do when they were younger. And she never gave it another thought.

Three years later, her mother fell severely ill, and it changed her entire personality. Chris was the only consistent thing in her life that kept her from shattering.

He'd helped with Abbott's work, taken care of Rose during her illness, and kept Giselle from falling apart.

She never considered how broken Chris was at that time. The only thing that showed his sadness was the occasional stammer in his speech, for Rose was like a mother to him, too.

In their younger years, whenever he got sick, Chris would sneak into their house, and Rose would take care of him since his stepmother didn't use to bother. She'd make him soup and apply a wet towel to his forehead. She'd look after him till he felt better. And on the better days, she cheered for his success as much as she did for her own daughter. She'd loved him like a son.

When her mother died, Giselle lost all the will to live. She'd seen her mother die a slow and hopeless death, and it killed her on the inside. Chris was the one who pulled her out of the darkness when he was breaking down just as much. He did everything in his power to bring her back to life, even when he was away in college. When she couldn't sleep, he'd stay up with her on the call all night, singing to her till she'd doze off.

She respected him more than anyone in this world. If she let herself think about living a life without him in it, it suffocated her. But her father's words came as a shock despite everything Chris and Giselle shared. Her mind was cluttered, and she didn't know what to think anymore.

Giselle didn't realize when she'd reached Paradise Café. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she rid her mind of all the thoughts.

All she wanted was to be with Xavier and not think about Chris for a while.

The bell jingled as she opened the door of the Café and walked in. There was a couple in the corner arguing in hushed voices. Three men sat at the front table, laughing at a joke one of them had probably cracked. A couple with their two kids sat at the table behind them. And Xavier was at his usual spot; the farthest corner. The only thing unusual today was another man sitting next to him.

She stopped, wondering why he'd asked her to come when he already had company. He never liked being with anyone when she was with him. Paranoia gripped her brain in a fist, and as much as she tried to have an open mind about him belonging to a gang, fear traveled through her body.

She opened her phone, checking his message again to confirm. It was received forty-five minutes ago.

Xavier: Café. Waiting for you.

She looked back up and her eyes met his. He was walking toward her with a smile. The stranger remained at the table.

"Where were you?" he asked softly, touching her cheek.

She smiled, held his hand on her cheek, then sighed. "With dad. Nothing serious."

She didn't know if she wanted to talk to him about Chris yet. She didn't know how he'd react to it. But also, she just didn't want to think about it anymore.

His eyebrows merged for a moment, then he smiled again. "I want you to meet someone."

"Yeah?" She glanced at the farthest table. "Who?"

"My best friend."

She raised her right eyebrow. "You have a best friend?"

He took her hand and led her toward the table. "No, only you get to have one." She chuckled. "Mine is of the same gender, though."

She cringed internally but brushed it off. "What I meant was, why do you want me to meet your friend?"

He glanced back at her and shrugged. "I didn't have a family to introduce you to."

Her heart broke for him. She squeezed his hand. He smiled at her.

They reached the table and settled down. Xavier sat next to Giselle and held her hand, fingers intertwined. He moved the freshly stained cups of coffee to the side with his other hand.

His friend sat across the table. She looked at him and shuddered slightly at the oh-so-familiar face. It was the man who'd told Xavier that Sean wanted to see him. Even though he'd smiled at her warmly the other day, Giselle felt uncomfortable. She couldn't stop thinking that if he knew Sean, he was a part of the gang, too. What else did she expect?

"Stewart is the name." He smiled, then quickly glanced at his silver watch. Stewart. Wasn't he the one who'd introduced him to the gang?

"Stewart." She nodded. "You're in the gang, too?" An unpleasant question asked cheerfully.

Giselle saw his smile turning into a smirk. "Yeah!"

It was as if he liked it.

She eyed him. "It's good to meet you." I guess.

"It's good to meet you."

Giselle scooted a bit toward Xavier, but couldn't place a finger on the reason why she felt so irritated with everything. It was probably because of the argument she'd had with her father, she told herself, probably the regret of ending it with those spiteful words.

All she wanted was to go to her room and sleep. Maybe she'd need Chris to sing to her this time, too.

She blinked twice at her thoughts, and then managed a tight smile as an answer to Stewart.

"Xavier," Stewart began, "I have to go. It's late."

"Where?" he asked.

"Social work." He turned to Giselle as he got up. "Sorry, Giselle. I waited an hour for you. I need to rush now. Hope Xavier doesn't give you a hard time." He winked. "You have my blessing, by the way." He chuckled and walked away after bidding him and her, goodbye.

She turned to Xavier with narrowed eyes. He'd once told her something similar. "Social work?" she asked.

He turned to her. "It's nothing." His answer was quick.

"Tell me."

He gulped, fixed his black jacket, looking around. "G-gang work."

She shook her head. She'd dreaded this answer but it still came as a shock to her. "Social work? You call that social work?"

His lips twitched downward, his brows merging. "I don't know what you expected. Did you expect me to tell you outright that I murdered people for a living?"

She bit back a retort and told herself that she wasn't angry because of him.

Silence followed for a few minutes. Xavier gestured for the waiter to come and then placed his order for two cups of cappuccinos.

"Giselle?" He began, sounding desperate to change the topic. "Did you talk to your dad?"

She looked up at Xavier with a weak smile. Chris's face swam in her eyes. "We're driving back tomorrow evening. Are you free to come meet him?"

He smiled, though it looked strained. "Tomorrow? Yeah, I have this important thing to do, then I'll be free."

She nodded, deciding to talk to her father despite how messed up everything had gotten.