THEY HAD TO CLEAN UP THE MESS THE PARTY HAD LEFT, and Mallory would be no part of it. She wouldn't take part in the picking of the plastic bags that littered the entire lawn, or in raking the millions of sticky food pieces that had somehow become mingled with the grass, or in scrubbing the profane words and images teenage delinquents had scribbled upon the white walls. Susan had said that it would be far from appropriate for her to do chores on her birthday, and Mallory had agreed to it, not interested in engaging in another tedious activity after the party.

But now she wished Susan had asked her to take part, to join Samantha and Allen in the cleaning. Because then she would've been close enough to listen in on their seemingly interesting conversation, be part of the humour they both shared. They laughed much more than they worked, touched more often that their rakes grazed the grass, and stared at each other in a way that far surpassed the seemingly unsurpassable sweetness in the chirping of the returning evening birds.

They brought feelings she hadn't felt in a long while. Jealousy and longing, both feelings that had manifested best at Starlight Academy. She felt jealousy at its strongest when she had to confront the reality that they were hundreds of violinists better than her and felt longing when she was with Jason Trevor. It was the longing that made her heart wrench the most, that feeling of yearning for something which you knew you could never have, that feeling that often accompanied love.

She constantly thought of him, of Jason, and it wasn't the kind of thinking that was done during your leisure time or when you were bored and needed an abstraction. It was the kind that was out of your control, that was repetitive and perpetual. It was always there, never dulling for a minute. Jason had become that constant on her mind, that part of Starlight Academy she hadn't been able to rid off. She'd rid of her dreams to be Starlight star and her vengeful desire to take it all out on Diana, but she still held on to Jason, even though the conditions were inconducive to holding on to him, even though the wind in her mind wanted to detach him from its roots. She still held on to him, stubbornly, a holding on that came with a sort of senseless hope, that maybe, maybe somehow it could work.

"Mal, you alright?" Samantha yelled out to Mallory. She hadn't realised a tear had rolled down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away.

"Yeah, I was just...thinking." Mallory smiled back, even though it was not in her to smile at Samantha. But there was something surprisingly agreeable about her today, some warm quality about her character that thawed the ice of hatred in Mallory's heart. She didn't shoot condescending remarks at Mallory as she used to, but only extended niceness. She smiled and laughed a lot today, in a way that made her look more humane, a certain quality she was sure Samantha lacked. But somehow, Allen's appearance today had transformed her. However permanent that transformation was, she didn't know. But she didn't care either. She'd never seen Samantha like this, so jovial and hearty, so—so in love. It made the future bright, made Mallory look forward to that idealistic future she'd always had, where she could have Samantha as a sister.

Mallory couldn't help but wonder if love made people more humane, if it softened character. Susan too had become nicer over the course of months, there was a new innocence in the glint of her eyes. Her tongue seemed to have lost the ability to ridicule and insult Mallory as it used to. What if the love she claimed to have for Cole had made her this new unrecognizable person. What if her love for him was genuine? She'd seen the way Susan sped out of the driveway to be near Cole after his chemotherapy, with a speed only used when someone wanted to come to the rescue of another they loved. She saw the sad promises of tears in her eyes. What was that, if not love?

Mallory turned to enter the house, mentally repulsed by the idea of accepting Susan as any more than a parasitical thing she had to learn to accommodate. She wasn't human to Mallory, would never be.

"Mal," Samantha said just as Mallory was about to open the door.

"What?" Mallory snapped, suddenly angered by something she couldn't quite express in words.

Samantha nudged to her front. A silver Mercedes had pulled along their pavement. It definitely wasn't Susan's. She had a blue Chevo. And the tires of Cole's car didn't touch any other ground apart from the garage's as of late. It was encrusted in so much dust, it seemed to physically assert Cole's absence.

"You know who it is?"

Mallory shook her head. "No idea."

The car's door jutted open, and a figure stepped out of it. She couldn't quite see who it was through the scorching rays of the sun, but as the person drew nearer, his features became clearer, his outlines more defined. She wanted to run indoors and pull down all the blinds, and she would've if Jason's appearance hadn't paralysed her from the head down. He was wearing sunglasses, comically crooked as they were. She'd always noticed that the positioning of his ears wwere slightly higher than the other, and so the arms of any pair he wore would be at different heights. It wasn't a feature that you noticed if you weren't close to him, but now that feature was pronounced from a distance. Every feature about him was more distinct and significant. He was taller now, or perhaps the distance between them had manifested itself in his height.

"It's Jason Trevor," Samantha yelled. "Allen, look it's Jason. Oh my God!"

"Yeah." Allen shrugged, hands dug into his pockets. He didn't look at him. Who would look at the guy who was a much better competitor than he was? "I see him alright."

Samantha looked at Jason, then at Mallory, reaching a realisation that melted the warmness in her eyes. But at least, she managed to retain the warmth in her words. "What are you standing there looking like an idiot for? Would you walk up to him?" She laughed, pushing Mallory towards Jason. Mallory moved, but only as far as Samantha pushed her. Her feets wouldn't go any further to him. And for a minute, she thought that Jason was in the same dilemma. He seemed like he was, judging by how he just stood there staring at her with his hands dug into his pockets. But then after a few seconds, he began to approach her. Her feet suddenly regained the ability to run, and she would've if Jason didn't approach her faster than she had the chance.

"Hi," Jason said, not meeting her eyes.

Mallory avoided his gaze too. "Hey."

She heard snickering and the rustling of grass behind her, then a jarring door-slam. Allen and Samantha had excused them. Mallory breathed out with relief. She wouldn't have to be placed under the scrutiny of them, but it wasn't enough relief to cross into the bounds of a conversation with Jason. There were so many things to say, so much for them to catch up on, so many grounds to cover that she didn't know where exactly to start from.

Jason, however, did. "I—um heard it was your birthday today."

"Did you?" Mallory asked, and wanted to slap herself immediately. Why had she put a sarcastic edge to what she said? Why did she all of a sudden lose all her conversational skills?

"Yeah," he said, smiling. "Happy—um—birthday? I wanted to bring a gift but—"

"You're gift enough," Mallory said, finally looking up at him. She looked away again, embarrassed. "I'm sorry that was a very stupid thing to—"

"It was sweet." Jason refuted her critic. "That was a very sweet thing to say."

Silence filled the distance between them for an inordinate amount of time, the awkwardness of the moment making Mallory wish she could dig a hole into the ground and be swallowed up by it. But there came a time at which silence wasn't as awkward, when it was appropriate. At times there was so much to say, it was best to say nothing at all. It was best not to communicate through words, but glances, sending implicit but clear messages that words were incapable of delivering. One message was clear: They missed each other.

"There's been so much that's happened," Mallory told him as they began to stroll through the serene streets. The wind was cool and damp, and when it slapped their faces, there was never a slap so harsh yet relaxing. Her hand was safely intertwined in his. She had never held him before, and so the first time was expected to be weird and uncomfortable, but she felt security with him. She felt close to home. Mallory told him about her elimination and about her father's cancer prognosis, told him with tears streaming down her face. Tears she hadn't been able to let out, not because she didn't want to, but because she lost the ability to cry after doing it so much. Perhaps it was her body's way of protecting her from dying of dehydration.

"He's slipping away, Jason." Mallory told him. "And—and I feel so helpless."

"He's going to be fine," Jason assured her, hugging her close to him. He drew a finger along her face. "Trust me, he is." The assurance in his voice was so firm and certain, she assumed he had a basis for it.

"Have you ever had anybody survive from cancer?"

He sharply turned away, a sharpness that made obvious how stark and deep his grief was. His hold around her loosened, and Mallory felt like a monster, having opened old wounds.

"I'm sorry—"

Jason squeezed her hand and smiled feebly. "She was my mother. Young. Beautiful."

"Lillian?" Mallory asked."You once told me about her once."

"Yeah." Jason laughed a very sad laugh. "There are some people you don't believe would ever die, some people you couldn't ever imagine as sick. My mother was one of those people. The day I discovered she was going to die, I thought it was only a nightmare that would go away," Jason shrugged. "It didn't."

"Cancer is such a bitch," Mallory said, feeling his grief in her heart as though it was hers. Maybe it was partly hers. It was hers because he was a part of her, rooted somewhere deep in her heart.

Jason grinned. The teary sheet in his eyes vanished. "I never knew you swore."

"Well technically, it isn't swearing. 'Bitch' means female dog..."

Jason rolled his eyes. "Not in that context, pretty. You should do it again. I think it's hot."

"I do it all the time."

Jason looked at her, shocked. "How come I never heard it?"

"Cuz it was always in my head, dummie," she laughed, and he joined in too. They held each other tighter, bound by a certain assurance, a common feeling which none of them had spoken of yet. It was so strong, it didn't need to be stated. It asserted itself.

Jason plucked a flower from the hedges of a building. He wedged it in her hair. "I want to tell you something, Mal."

Hope roused in Mallory's heart. It fluttered, in anticipation of what she knew was coming, what he knew he would say. How many times had she heard him, imagined him uttering those words to her, and not once had it felt real? It would now. "Go ahead."

He stepped over a puddle. "I don't know if you heard...but I resigned from Starlight yesterday."

Mallory stopped dead in her tracks, and the world seemed to stop spinning for a minute. The birds stopped chirping, the wind was no longer blowing, and even Mallory's heart wasn't beating. She was aghast, bar none, by Jason's admission of resigning. It seemed impossible. Starlight Academy was Jason's essence. It was what made him Jason Trevor.

"You looked shocked."

Mallory snapped out of her trance. "I am. I guess I can't see why you would do that. Did William fire you?"

"No," Jason said. "He didn't. I mean he wouldn't even if he wanted to. I quit."

"Why?"

Jason shrugged. "It's a long story."

"Well...we've got all the time in the world."

Jason rubbed his nape shyly, and looked over his shoulder, away from her, as though Mallory was mistaken and she didn't even realise it.

"Am I missing something?"

Jason sighed. "I-I'm leaving. I'm leaving for London today." He shut his eyes. "There. I said it."

Mallory winced at him. She'd been shot twice in such a short span of time. Yet this news had a much bigger impact than the last one. It was like a wrecking ball that threw her off balance. She searched his face for any sign of playfulness. There was none, but a sullen seriousness. The realisation nearly strangled her.

He was really leaving.

She once read that hope was a bitch, that it came like an angel in the darkness, and made everything seem better for a while. And it was then, at the moment when you expected things to keep getting better that it left, left things in a much worse condition than before its arrival. The author of that book was wrong. Hope was not a bitch.

Hope was Jason.

"Say something," Jason pleaded, his forehead spotted with beads of sweat.

"I—"Mallory stopped when his phone began to ring. She seemed to be the only one who heard it because Jason didn't make a move to attend to it. He only stared at her face, waiting rather desperately for her response. But she didn't have anything to say. The phone call was her saving grace. "Take the call."

Jason hesitated for a while, then he reluctantly picked up the call. "Yes?...What?...Look, I can't hear you...Hello?" He brought his phone down and shot Mallory a confused look.

"Who was it?"

Jason paused. "Diana."

"What did she say?"

Jason shrugged. "I couldn't hear her properly. She was stuttering—she never stutters—and she sounded freaked out. She—she wasn't herself. Something's not right."

Mallory was appalled by the intensity of the concern on his face, by how surprisingly genuine his fear for Diana was. She didn't think someone like Diana was worth that kind of concern. Diana was the same person who had plotted Mallory's elimination, the same villain who annihilated her dreams. Surely Jason would understand that enough to not care about if Diana was in trouble or not.

"She's probably fine." Mallory shrugged. "Relax."

"Relax!" Jason laughed nervously. "Did you hear her voice? She was terrified! Something's not right."

"Look, I think you need to actually—"

Mallory stopped when her phone buzzed in her back pocket. She imagined it was Diana, imagined her yelling at the top of her lungs too, shaking, trembling, afraid. And then she imagined Diana crying when Mallory cut the call on her, leaving her helpless in whatever perilous situation she'd gotten herself into.

Revenge came in different ways.

But it, unfortunately, wasn't Diana on the line. "Are you still interested in being a Starlight star?"

William.