Zelda's POV

Impa leaves the bar to chase after Kiroh the way I used to chase after Link every time I yelled at him. Hopefully I've learned a thing or two in the past year and can prevent Impa from making similar mistakes.

I look over to the booth. Revali and Mipha are back to holding hands over the table, and this time nobody will interrupt them. It's best if I keep my distance so they can finally enjoy their 100 days anniversary in private.

It must be around 11 P.M. now but I'm not ready to go home yet. I dance to Pik's music, something I would have never done before in public, and I even hum along. I don't usually sing in front of others, but who knows, maybe if I knew the lyrics I would have sung out loud tonight.

Even though Impa left and I'm by myself now, I don't feel lonely at all. It feels like everyone in the room is here with me, and that's an incredible feeling. I don't know any of these people, but we all share this memory.

Time passes and every once in a while I look over to the booth to see if Revali is looking back at me. I wonder what he wanted to tell me, and if it's still on his mind. His eyes are mainly aimed at Mipha, and when he finally does look at me too, I wave at him from the distance, letting him know that I'm still here for him if he needs me.

I'm caught off guard when he uses his phone to snap a photo of me. It's a bit unusual but I smile for the camera because tonight I'm not hiding from making memories. Revali returns his attention to Mipha, not looking at me again. I wish we didn't get interrupted earlier when he tried to tell me his confession. I am left with so many questions.

He said he wanted–no–needed to talk about his relationship, and that he thinks he made a mistake with Mipha. But how terrible could his mistake have been if it led to them eying each other with so much love and affection?

At first I thought he was going to tell me he betrayed her, but I can't imagine he would do that to her. For as long as I've known him, he hasn't expressed an interest in any other girl but her. Is it possible that he was trying to tell me that he doesn't have feelings for her anymore and that the mistake he made was asking her out?

But if that's the case, why talk to me about it? Unless I had something to do with it...

Inventing a million different theories won't get me far. I will find out eventually, assuming Revali will ever talk to me again after spilling a drink on him.

I squeeze past some people to get closer to the stage and clear my mind with Pik's lyrics. He's the reason I came here but I haven't paid much attention to him all night, and even if I did, he can't even see me. I could have left with Impa for all he knows.

But surprisingly, I don't find myself wanting to leave. I'm by myself, at a bar, on a Friday night, with a drink in my hand, dancing and laughing and cheering. I take a sip from my drink and am surprised by how much I like the cold Piña Colada on my tongue! Its velvety texture is a perfect balance of creamy coconut, sweet and tangy pineapple, and a hint of alcohol.

For the first time, I'm actually enjoying a party. It's an odd feeling. I feel grown up. Not the business deal, suit-up, filing tax forms kind of grown up. More like the experienced, laid-back, social anti-wall-flower kind of grown up.

I feel matured, that's it. 

Okay, I will admit that blurting out that Kiroh is a Boar wasn't the most mature thing to do in that situation, but I wasn't going to risk Impa getting hurt. I care way too much about her safety and well-being to put off telling her the truth. It's better to be honest and deal with the truth afterward than to hide the truth and deal with the secrets and lies.

I believe that in the end everything will turn out alright. Kiroh will realize that he should have been open about it, and Impa will forgive him for hiding it from her. They might start dating, and I will have to accept that my best friend has feelings for a Boar. In reality, I have already accepted that. I just don't want to let my guard down. I will be keeping a close eye on him. As long as he doesn't give me any reason for suspicioun, I won't stand in his way. I can only hope he doesn't spend time with Karusa or Ganon outside of practice.

My eyes are pulled to the booth again. Revali is still focused on his girlfriend. I'm glad that he is with someone who loves him rather than at the frat party where he'd be miserable. The same goes for Impa. I'm glad that she isn't giving up on something that is important to her. I'm sure by now they are talking to each other or maybe they have already made up with each other.

I focus on Pik now. His passion for music shines through every note he plays, and witnessing him share his heartfelt lyrics with an audience that embraces the raw emotion in his songs is satisfying in ways I can't describe. It makes me feel at ease.

Swaying in sync with the crowd, I find solace in the slow, emotional melody. The notes he plays feel personal, and when I study Pik's face, it's as if he performs for an ethereal audience, lost in his own world. 

In this moment, it's just him and his music, with the outside world fading away. His eyes look up, almost making me believe that he can see something nobody else can. A world far beyond the ceiling. 

The imagery of a million scattered stars fills his memories before he lowers his head again, closing his eyes. He leans in, his lips gently touch the microphone as he takes a breath.

♫
In the cosmic depths, alone I soar,
An astronaut adrift, forevermore.
Mission Control, do you read me clear?
We don't have much time, the end is near.

There's been a breach, where do I begin?
I'm drifting away, low on oxygen...
Mission control, my fate is clear,
Tell them I loved them, they don't have to fear.

Inhale, exhale... my breath grows weak,
No savior in sight, no one to speak.
The silence is haunting, a deafening sound,
With ten percent left, I begin to count down:

T minus ten,
Will we meet again?

T minus nine,
where stars align.

T minus eight,
a cosmic gate,

T minus seven,
to the haven of heaven.

T minus six,
As the countdown ticks

T minus five,
A world alive.

T minus four,
I yearn for more,

T minus three,
what will it be?

T minus two,
my final view,

T minus one,
When all is done.

The clock hits zero, but I'm still here,
Mission control, I can see it clear;
The countdown I thought was meant for me,
Was a countdown for you; humanity.

My visor reflects the atom bomb lights,
As the atmosphere burns, an infinite sight.
Mission control... You're but ash and debris
Farewell, dear Earth, eternally.
♫

I'm taken aback by his words. Each of his songs carry so much meaning. 

This story especially. An astronaut with a breach in his suit, alone in space, having lost his crew moments earlier... The isolation is palpable as he hopelessly tries to establish communication with Mission Control because his oxygen is running out. But there is nobody on the other end, and since he knows he is going to die, he begins to count down the time he has left. 

The whole countdown is ambiguous from start to finish, both representing his impending demise and the last moments of humanity on Earth. The astronaut yearns for more time, questioning what could have been, and what is to come. He realizes that he is witnessing his final view of the universe before the end, which becomes even more meaningful with the plot twist that follows. 

Turns out the countdown wasn't for him, it was for the atom bomb. And there is nothing he can do but watch as everyone else dies before him. 

This song juxtaposes personal struggle with the grandeur of humanity's existence. But perhaps there is more to it than just that... I wonder if it's yet another reference to Pik's condition. Is he the astronaut? When he found out that he was going to become blind, he must have counted down the time as well, taking in every last sight of Earth. 

One thing is for sure: whether happy or sad, the emotions Pik's puts into his songs are palpable and never fail to reach my heart. His words come from deep within his soul, and every smile he carries comes with a hint of sadness, knowing he will never see another smile himself.

I'm sad for Pik but proud at the same time. He could have become famous and toured the world. Actually, he still might. His blindness doesn't have to stand in the way of his dreams. 

As the next song fades out, the audience applauds and cheers for the young musician.

"Thank you!" Pik flicks his guitar pick into the crowd while more applause roars through the little space. This reminds me that I still have his pick. Perhaps I should give it back to him soon, even though Link told me not to. I could just place it in Pick's guitar case next time I attend one of his performances. I would do it unnoticed, without telling him it was me. Eventually, he'll find it and think it's been there all along. Problem solved. 

Grabbing the microphone, Pick addresses the audience with warmth and appreciation. "You've been great tonight! My name is Pike Curia and you can listen to Final Countdown and every other song I played tonight on Spotify!" The crowd grows louder, me included! I'm so proud of him! "Thank you, thank you!" an adorable chuckle slips through his humble smile. "But let's not forget the real rockstar on the stage–please give a hand to my talented friend, the drummer, Darunia!"

"Woohoo!" I cheer for them both, my voice but a whisper compared to the others.

"If you'd like to leave a tip, smiles are always an accepted currency!" Pik tells us and people shout back in response.

"Love you, Pik!"

"Thank you Pik!"

"Your music is so underrated!"

"You rock!" I join in, competing against the others. An irreversible smile unfolds on my face as a memory of Pik and I playing the piano at the outlet mall appears in my mind. Back then, he had a sign in his guitar case that read a similar line: "Smiles are the only accepted currency". He still received a handful of tips, which he later on gave to a homeless person on our way back to our cars.

My voice must have been loud enough to be heard from the stage because his eyes find mine in the crowd. He winks at my direction and gives a nod to the back area, a que for me to meet him there.

I move along the stage to follow him there. Revali's eyes meet mind across the room and I give a final wave to let him know that I'm about to head home. He doesn't wave back, he just picks up his phone and starts texting with someone. Typical.

Pik disappears to the back area, and as I try to clear a path to get there too, a girl stops me from passing through.

"Excuse me," I say in high spirits, trying to avoid getting shoved again.

"Are you Zelda Hyrule?" the girl asks me with a smile. I study her face, failing to recognize her.

"Yes, why?"

"Tell Link he can rot in hell and that he sucks at sports." Her words catch me so off-guard that I don't notice the drink in her hand until she throws it at me, soaking my hair and shirt with alcohol before I can catch a better look at her face!

"Hey!" I gasp, unsure how to respond. "What the–!"

She hastily rejoins with her friend group before I can ask questions. I rub the alcohol out of my eyes, makeup running down my face.

"She's using him for his fame," one of her friends laughs rudely. She looks back at me on their way out and shouts directly at me, "How much is he paying you to be his arm candy?"

"Must be a pretty cheap deal!" The one who threw her drink at me says. "He could replace her with anyone."

Then they go back to their normal conversation as if nothing had happened. "Hey wasn't your friend supposed to give us a ride?"

"He said something came up. Let's just call an Uber."

I ignore the rest of their conversation. Mouth agape, I am frozen for a few moments, questioning if this really just happened to me or if I imagined it.

"Are you kidding me?" I mutter to myself in disbelief, stiff and cold from the chilling liquor running down my spine.

My first instinct is to let the insecurities consume me but I stop myself from going to that dark place. I take a long, deep breath, filling my lungs with the thick, salty ocean air. Link and I are fine, those girls don't know our relationship. And who cares what other people think? I know who I am, and Link is not going to replace me. We love each other and we are happy.

I exhale and open my eyes. Everything is good. Nothing has changed. I still feel good. Well, on the inside at least. I need a change of clothes to feel good on the outside again.

"Haters," someone says next to me.

"What?" I turn to face that person. Her winged eyeliner and bold punk-meets-cute fashion reminds me of Impa. Her plaid skirt and fishnet stockings make them look like twins if Impa had darker skin and black hair.

"They're just haters," the girl repeats. "Those girls are just mad immature. Even if Link was the worst athlete in the world, or if y'all were paying each other to be together, it's y'all's business and people should mind their own. That girl got no right attacking you like that. It's literally assault." She shrugs as if she doesn't really care about any of this, even though she's the one who brought it up. "Stupid haters, I pity 'em, really."

"It's not the first time," I sigh, thinking about all the strangers on social media who reached out to me just to send death threats to my family because I am dating their celebrity crush. Or Malice who used to bully me simply for catching Link's eyes on me. If that were to happen today, I think I would react more maturely. I would just ignore her, or, like this random girl, feel sorry for her.

"Gotta ignore 'em," the girl says. Her advice, while appreciated, is not very helpful, considering that I can't just ignore the fact that my shirt is showing my skin now.

I cross my arms to cover my chest and run backstage. There are less lights and less people back here. Just Pik in the corner, placing his guitar in its case. He is wearing ripped jeans and a black t-shirt that is quoting The Rolling Stones.

"You can't always get what you want," I read the quote out loud to get his attention. "But if you try sometimes, you might find, you get what you need."

Pik's head turns my way. "Hey Zelda!"

I notice that his piercings are missing and his hair has grown longer, dyed baby blue like the hazy sky on a cold October morning. It suits him well, and that's coming from someone who typically dislikes unnatural hair colors.

Pik opens his arms for a hug but I hesitate, not because I don't want to hug him but because my top is soaking wet.

"I wouldn't," I advised him. "A girl just spilled her drink on me. Now my clothes are drenched."

"Is that why you smell like beer?" He chuckles.

Revali would be having a blast if he saw me right now. Or maybe he'd seek out the girl who did this to tell her his harsh opinion. You never know with him. It's like he rolls a die every time he has to decide whether to be a friend or foe. A shield or a sword. Although, if he had the choice, he wouldn't pick either. He would go with bow and arrow.

"I have a spare t-shirt in my bag," Pik says, not losing his cheerful energy. "You can borrow it if you'd like."

I look down on the see-through fabric of my white top. For once, I'm glad that Pik can't see me, or my pink, flowery bra. "You're a lifesaver, thank you!"

"Hey don't thank me yet! It's an oversized vintage band tee, not really your style."

"Tonight, anything is my style. I'm breaking out of my shell."

"Is that so?" he smiles. "Let's break out together then. But before we go..." He steps closer and opens his palms. Within are a bunch of coins and one dollar bills. "Could you tell me how many tips I made tonight?"

"Gladly." I count the change in his hands. "You earned about 23 dollars," I say after a moment of shared silence, still counting the remaining coins. "23 dollars and 46 cents to be exact."

"Sweet! Let's find someone to give it to!"

"Do you always do this?" I ask.

"What do you mean?"

"Last year after we performed at the mall, you gave your tips to a homeless person, not keeping a single penny for yourself. Do you always do that?"

"Oh," he nods. "Yeah, I don't keep my tips."

"Why not?"

"I don't need them. But they do," he says, sounding a bit more serious now. "I have money and a home." He carefully shuts his guitar case and secures it on his back. "I have enough food, I have clean water, health insurance, a car, although I'm not legally allowed to drive it anymore," he chuckles and goes on, "I have security, clothes, and an excellent education..." His smile turns bittersweet. "The only thing I don't have is eyesight, and that is something money can't buy me. Fortunately, it can buy all those other things for someone who really needs it. Someone who is legally allowed to drive a car and will appreciate the money as much as I would appreciate two functioning eyes."

My heart aches for him... I wish there was something I could do to make him feel better. I've been meaning to ask about his eyesight and how much he can see. This might be a fitting time to do so.

But my questions are answered when he reaches for an object, slender and compact, unfolding it with practiced ease. A white cane in his grip, he bravely holds his smile for me. "Ready?"