*Charlie's P.O.V*

On Friday, Harry stays long at the station, awaiting updates on Caelen. A missing person's report was filed, although the police seem to be sure it's too late.

Pameline refuses to talk to him, especially since she had to spend a night in the cell for throwing her sneakers at him. If he even looks her way, she loses it, so Harry keeps his distance.

When I call him, he doesn't say the severity of the matter.

"It's just a little issue. Don't worry about me; have fun. You're prepping for your Rio show, huh?"

"Mhmm. Wish you were here."

"Aww, miss you too, son."

"Never mind, I don't miss you. Bye." Not me cutting the line on this note. I have to because the show is about starting.

Everyone is busy getting into their outfits, whereas I'm sandwiched between a stylist and her assistant. Monet waves from her end of the room, seemingly on good terms with me. I wave back.

When the show starts, I am placed right beside her. I mutter good luck, and she snorts, "Luck is for suckers."

"... Ok."

"Ugh, you see those weirdos -" She points to the audience from the gap between curtains. I nod, though it takes a minute to realise who she's referring to - a short bearded man with a curt facade.

"He's from that agency that provides models for traditional, upper-class designers. Remember the one I told you about the last time?"

No. I nod passively.

"So, turn left on the runway."

Ok- no. My brows are up. "They will see you on the screens."

"So?"

"So, just do what has been rehearsed. They'll see you -"

"Why are you trying to ruin my chances?!" Oh, how quickly she can silence me.

Twenty minutes later, we are on the runway. We walk down some steps, heading towards the point where our paths separate.

Brass music plays when we reach that point, and Monet takes my route - right. I walk in sync with her, so it comes off as intentional.

However, there's no hiding her confusion and inconsistencies at the next crossing. A model almost jumps into her if not for me slowing our pace.

After reaching backstage, Monet vanishes. Her reappearance takes place in a tiny crystal-stoned dress for the after-party.

"Mr. Hunt?" - stops me in my tracks towards her. I turn, realising who called my name.

"You are Mr. Hunt, right?" It's the very man she's trying to impress.

"Yes, please."

"Well, congratulations. You were terrific."

"Mm. Miss Monet also helped -"

"I'm sorry. We're in a bit of a time crunch, so let's get to the point." He then gives a whole speech about the merits of his modelling agency and the increase, and I'm just gulping, "Oh wow. Oh wow."

As the man takes his leave, he suggests I think about it, bypassing Monet. Her stare screams rage.

*

*

Leo wants me to take the offer, regardless of Monet. But I don't like that I'm stealing her chance -

"You are not stealing!" Leo facepalms for the umpteenth time.

I get up. He pushes me down. I get up again, and he huffs, "Did the man ask for anything?"

"Just ... pictures?"

"Ok, I can handle that." He spins to check his schedule on his laptop. A notification pops up, and he urges me away from his laptop, muttering that the bathhouse tap is flowing.

While I go switch it off, Leo glares at the message.

♤♤♤
Brenda: Hey.

Leo: Leave me alone.

Brenda: So you're
counting.

Leo: Why can't you
leave me alone?!

Brenda: Why are you
angry with me?!!!

♤♤♤

Biting the inside of his cheek, Leo types, "fuck off" and deletes it. His pointer migrates to the block button only to see:

♤
Brenda: I would rather you
cut me to bits, than
treat me like this.
♤

He blocks her anyway. Leans back. Then, it dawns on him how accurate his fear may be.

... you cut me to bits...

*

*

When time drifts to the day I leave Brazil, Leo stays behind. He says he's got work to do. I believe him. Little do I know that he will go to Brenda's office building.

He'll look up and see her watching him from her window. She'll wave. He'll gulp.

A moment will pass. He'll realise this is her intention all along - to make him anxious. Anxiety brought him to her in the first place.

He will take a deep breath and turn. Fear will plague him as he hears her yell. His sweaty palms will open a random door, and before he will know it, he will be hiding in a bar.

After waiting ten minutes, he will stay by the bartender. Someone will scream, "Drinks on me!" And like that, the bartender will pour everyone a drink, including Leo.

Leo will see Brenda at the door. Spiteful, he'll gulp a shot - his first gulp unrelated to anxiety- and then he will grab a random girl. He won't aim for a kiss, but the girl will press against him. Brenda will roll her eyes, leaving.

*

*

*

*Mia's P.O.V*

I'm scrolling Harry's Tiktok when, to my surprise, his most recent thumbnail displays him with a black eye.

Harry rolls up his sleeves as he narrates how someone yeeted a sneaker at him. Without giving out any identity, he retreats into goofiness. Leave it to Harry to make jokes about almost losing his eye.

I am scrolling further when a text pops up.

♤♤♤
Hi.

This is Kira.

Me: How are you?

Kira: Good. Please can
you send me money?

Me:...

Kira:It's for extra tuition.

Me:...
How much?
♤♤♤

As she sends the amount, I squint at it, considering that this is her first voluntary interaction with me (for money, of all things).

♤♤♤
Me: It would take some time to get that amount. Do you need it urgently?

Kira:Just use your dad's account.

Me: What account?

Kira: The one he's been sending
money through. He must have

preserved some cash in there.

♤♤♤

*

*

Nothing about Dad's finances comes to mind. He was arrested for embezzlement since he needed extra money to get me into Spencer High... and that's all I know.

This doesn't mean I won't find the account.

In fact, from college, I drive to the old apartment. I haven't been there since I was 15 and - wait a minute. Weren't Dad's accounts frozen? Don't they freeze accounts when it comes to crimes like embezzlement?

When I reach the building, I look for our old neighbour, Mr. Jones. Three knocks later, the man appears with genuine confusion.

"Hi," I breeze, "it's Mia-Mr. Summers' daughter. We used to live here -" I point to the old apartment.

"Of course, I know you!" Mr. Jones bursts. Relief washes over me as he lets me in.

"You have grown so big already! Where have you been?!"

"Ur, school."

"Ha, learning like the champ your dad taught you to be, eh?" He grins a toothy grin.

As much as his joy is charming, I am itching more to ask, "... Urm, were my dad's accounts frozen when he got arrested?"

"Oh, dear, I would think so, but I don't know. Have you asked his lawyer?"

I can't even remember who his lawyer was. Mr Jones has to write down his name and contact before a short memory of Dad being whisked away by his legal team plays.

The lawyer's line puts me on voicemail.

It's after I get home that the lawyer sends me an email, suggesting we meet in person. I agree. In the meantime, I'll send some money to Kira.

*

My meeting with the lawyer happens right on my porch. He comes here himself, dressed formally. Saying he's a little pressed for time, the lawyer pours out a file and starts explaining shit I never knew.

"So your father's accounts with this bank were frozen, but for this one.. ya, it was transferred to your foster mother. Then she used some of it for your insurance..."

"Ur, she died like four-five years ago."

The lawyer closes the file while I ask the obvious. "So, isn't the account closed by now?"

"I'll check," the lawyer sighs. I thank him, and he gets up, a little disturbed. I hope it's not a big issue, though.

*

*

Now, the lawyer suspects an impersonator has access to the account. He has even flagged the matter to authorities already.

Things spring up left, right, and centre while I try to stay in my bubble.

Unlike the lawyer, I try not to worry much. I have what is enough. If Kira or any of my other relatives need money, I'll... work more to earn it until the account matter is settled. Then, I'll transfer everything to them. Simple.

The month is already ending. Meaning Anton and Cynthia's marriage is just a month away. I'm so excited for them.

As one of the bridesmaids, I go hunting for a blue off-shoulder gown with Desi. The girl grunts at each pick, aggravating me enough to buy her a matching dress.

After the shopping, I chat with my college friends about our final project. No one wants to work during vacation, so we busy ourselves in the laboratory most of our free time. I chose to work all night against Damien's advice.

"Don't let school kill you," he comments. "Have fun. With me."

"You are not fun," I joke, causing him to gasp, "Excuse me, do you not know my title?"

"Ya, beer pong king among some frats. Good for you."

He crosses his arms. "Ok. Come over."

"Huh?"

"Come over."

That's when a little switch ticks my nerve. "Come over to... your place?"

He nods.

"To ... have fun?"

He nods again.

I gulp. "Won't your roommates be around?"

"They'll be out tonight."

Oh ... night. My fingers curl. Damien grabs them, so I look up at him. Raising his brows, he waits. It takes me ten seconds to say yes, forty minutes to move from his presence, and two hours to fret at home.

It doesn't help that when I call Rhaka, she sings that it's about time already. He's making a move - either that or it's a Netflix and chill affair.

Hoping for the latter, reckoning that we will need food, I make pepperoni pizza and buy drinks.

For an outfit, I wear the dress Charlie suggested after my first date. Little do I know that the first thing Damien will say when he sees me is -"Damn, I am underdressed."

"No, you look good -" In your plain tee and Crocs.

Damien grins, ushering me to his couch. "You bought pizza."

"Ya, pepperoni."

"Nice." He turns on his television. We watch John Wick, eating so quietly that I fear for my chewing sounds. Not to mention, he's moved closer. Like really close. I sneak a glance at him.

He looks back. "Are you not watching?"

"Oh, yeah, yeah." I turn back to the screen, catching his smirk.

Ten seconds later, he kisses me. Stunned, I tip my head only for his tongue to enter my mouth. He tucks my hair back, moving to my neck.

Nothing is clicking upstairs. My brain is mush... but it's not because of butterflies or whatever you are supposed to feel when kissed. It's more like an out-of-body experience- as if my spirit is sitting in this room, confused. It won't return to my body until I explain myself- explain why I am not feeling anything.

I am not feeling anything.