"What do you think about this?" I suggest to Colton.

I emerged from a dressing room, posing while resting my hand on the dressing door.

Colton laughs at my silly pose because I was trying to divert his attention away from the clothing and onto my pose so he wouldn't criticize my fashion sense.

I was dressed in a vintage gown, which I didn't normally wear, but I liked the lacey silk on the front of the gown.

Even though prom was months away, I dragged Colton along with me to go prom dress shopping.

The last dance I attended was one I don't want to remember.

I wanted to have a typical high school dance experience, but Sylvia and her cronies ruined it for me.

Freshman year was defined by endless nights of crying, open wounds, and the evil nature of society, which I let pull me back and forth like a magnet.

Sophomore year was the year I'd like to define as an awakening to the deeper self, which had always tugged at my heart to open up and allow itself to evolve within me.

School was a drug that numbed the sense of one's true self as an individual.

My mind's sobriety eventually made its way to my brain, jolting me back to reality and revealing that the mask I was attempting to put on was a waste of time.

They say that little by little, you will realize how you are supposed to live.

It may take some time for some, and others may pick up on it right away, but you will eventually realize how you are supposed to live.

That was not caring what others thought of you.

Not allowing the voices to get inside your head, but instead embracing it in order to keep going and live a life that matters because you are the one who matters in the first place.

Kildare High School's prom and homecoming were not your typical high school dances.

Sarah compared it to a scene from Euphoria, when the teachers and administration stopped caring what the kids did, as long as it wasn't a crime.

But they saw themselves in us, which allowed them to keep a close eye on us, ensuring that nothing got out of hand while allowing us to live out the youth that we all had and would have.

Most people would go to the after-prom party. The lower classmen all went to the prom dance, unaware of the after party.

Some people with siblings would go to the afterparty, but the freshman had no idea what it was.

It would eventually be passed around, and everyone would be there.

You'd go to the regular prom in your typical prom dress, and then find a ride to the after party after changing into a more fitted dress at home.

The party had a feel of teenage nostalgia to it. You name it: your first drink, joint, hit, kiss, and so on. It'd be at the after-party.

The party grew in popularity, eventually attracting students from neighboring schools on the island.

My freshman year, I had my first joint. It was something I allowed myself to relax over in order to get away.

I credited that joint with bringing me to the dance floor; the weed within me breathed out in relief, moving me to the beat of the music, and putting me in a state that allowed me to finally realize who I was.

I made a public declaration. That I was going to start climbing the ladder in order to turn on the light, which would turn on the switch to a standing ground in my life on which I would stand my ground.

I took Colton to the mall here in Charleston as a point of interest for Hart to see.

I wasn't using Colton, but rather taking advantage of the opportunity that was presented to me.

I was going to give the money to Hart. Of course, one of his men would be the recipient.

But we all know that Hart doesn't just walk away once he gets what he wants.

He allows his pride to take hold before making another mistake.

Colton was there to protect me. Hart or his men would not try anything on me because I had company.

I smirked at Colton, who was doing his best not to criticize my outfit.

I had a few hours to forget about the outside world and pretend I was a teenager.

I was in a good mood today, I wasn't running away from anyone, and no one was chasing me, so I went to the mall to unwind and enjoy my youth.

"Try on another one," Colton says as he leans back into the couch.

I give him a silly grin and roll my eyes, knowing that this would take longer because Colton was picky about his clothes.

He actually had a good sense of style. He preferred the retro-vintage look. I envied his ability to pull off anything.

If you put him in a trash bag, his mere presence would be more powerful than the trash bag itself.

He was a pretty boy, but he was tough.

Girls were always around him, but he never realized how attractive he was.
Colton reminded me of Dylann Minnette. But dirty blonde.

The kind of light he brought into every room, capturing everyone's attention with his distinct presence.

You could get his attention but never keep it for so long.

I turn around and close the dressing room door.

I examine myself in the mirror, tracing the bruises on my arms.

My self image was something I struggled with growing up.

I could never seem to be satisfied with how I looked, conforming to society's standards.

I still struggle from time to time to accept myself fully, and the thought of not fitting in often pulls me away from full healing.

However, it is an obstacle I am overcoming and have almost fully overcome.

I raise my head and return my gaze to myself. Even though I was only looking at myself, my eyes were filled with mystery.

Sometimes I feel like the person looking back at me in the mirror is a reflection of myself that I never knew existed.

Looking in the mirror felt strange to me. Every time I looked in the mirror, I felt as if I was slowly drifting away from myself.

My scars remind me that I did, in fact, survive my deepest wounds. That is a significant accomplishment in and of itself.

The thought of how I got my scars makes my body tense up.

Rafe beat the hell out of me.

He saved my life, but he beat the shit out of me.

The memory of his retreating figure flashes through my mind as I remember the triumphant smile on his face.

It was a nightmare to think of that side of him, a side he was unable to control at that moment.

There was no way out, no matter how skilled you were. It was like being in a cage with a lion.

There was no way I could comprehend he wasn't aware of who he was fighting.

It was how effortlessly he threw punches.

How easily he could do it, not wasting a second to analyze the damage he could inflict.

Uncontrollable, unless he took the proper steps to heal him from the inside out.

It was a dangerous side to him.

I tighten my grip on the hanger in an effort to distract myself from sympathizing with someone who has destroyed me internally.

Even his presence served as a reminder that I wasn't in control.

Every time I had the upper hand, he would stab me in the back in a matter of seconds.

A cool breeze blows over my skin from the cool atmosphere of the store.

Goosebumps spread across my body as I pick up another dress hanging on the door and put it on.

I put on the dress and modeled several poses and busted a few moves.

I let the fabric stretch and then decided whether the dress was for me.

Satisfied, I put on my regular clothes and grabbed the two dresses before leaving.

"Thank God. I was just going to grab a churro and return before you finally came out." Colton teases.

He leaned against the couch with his hands behind his head.

I wince as I see his dirty blonde hair in all directions, and I feel the need to want to fix it for him.

I smacked him on the back of the head before hanging my dresses on hangers, snapping out of my ocd.

I was giddy on the inside, had a smile on my face, and was able to relax for the first time in months.

Colton and I decided to pack a variety of activities into today's schedule, including roller skating and laser tag.

We used to hang out after school all the time when we were kids.

It was normal for us to hang out at each other's houses, going to his for breakfast and him coming to mine for dinner.

Even before I met the pogues, our parents would sit on the balcony and watch Colton and I be pre-pogues.

We'd skate around town, interact with the locals, and go on spontaneous adventures.

I longed for the good old days.

When I needed emotional support, I turned to Colton.

He was with me every step of the way, never abandoning me when things got difficult. When we were first graders, we became friends because we both loved sea turtles.

When we went to the outer banks, we'd bring our little maps with us that we'd made outlining the locations of the sea turtle eggs.

The same beach where I went surfing with the Pogues today.

I was relieved to see that Pope, John B, and JJ all accepted Colton.

I was initially concerned that they would not because adding another member to the Pogues would disrupt the core four.

But I was mistaken, and it was another thing that gave me hope and shed light on the burden of assumptions on my chest.

The five of us quickly became friends and hit it off.

Colton had work to do, so it would be just me and the boys for the most part.

But when we did get together, I was grateful to have friends who accepted me for who I was. Being friends with guys was always a humbling experience.

They made me forget about the drama at school. Taking me away from the noise and keeping me still so I can take in the world around me.

Being at school was not like being out in the real world. It felt like walking into a building full of teachers and students who had all let life get the best of them. However, we were all in this together in some ways.

I will not, under any circumstances, diminish the efforts of teachers and students who make school what it should be.

However, it is difficult to do so when everyone around you is working so hard to distort education.

My ears are filled with the sound of the cash register ding, and the lady hands me my receipt.

I give the sweet lady a smile and stuff the receipt into my wallet.

When I turn around, I see Colton doing a popping and locking move in an attempt to impersonate Michael Jackson.

He holds his hat in his hand, looking down at the ground, and raises his face, making me laugh.

Colton was a character, and I was surprised that he never auditioned for drama.

On family nights, we used to set up a camera and put on shows for our parents to watch. It began with puppets and progressed to terrible British accents reciting Shakespeare.

Surprisingly, my terrible British accent got us free food from Charleston's local vendors.

The vendors were intrigued by how far we had traveled to see Charleston.

We were eventually caught, but every time I visit Charleston, I get free tacos from the food truck.

The vendors and I still make jokes about how gullible they were.

Charleston was the serotonin in my alternate reality.

A sort of getaway, giving myself permission to break the rules every now and then.

By breaking the rules, I mean going against my morals of staying true to yourself.

I will always fight for my morals, but I don't believe in 'no days off.'

As corny as it sounded, it was true, and I needed it every now and then to force myself into a pair of shoes in the back of my closet that I only wore once in a while.

You eventually learn to take the bull by the horns and go off the beaten path every now and then, because you're smart enough to bring it back on track.

I became numb to the sensation, able to turn it off whenever I wanted.

It was, however, dangerous to keep up with.

I was fed up with my current situation. But it was the people who stood by me who kept me going in my quest to fight for what was right.

They reminded me why I had fought in the first place.

Life is all about how much you can take and still fight, how much you can suffer and still keep moving forward.

To be nobody but yourself in a world that is doing everything it can, night and day, to make you everybody else – means to fight the hardest battle that any human being can fight, and to never give up.

When you fall down, neither in life nor in the boxing ring, your defeat is not declared. It is only declared when you refuse to get up. In boxing, rhythm is everything.

Every move you make begins with your heart, and it must be in rhythm or you will be in trouble.

The pace of the fight should be set by your rhythm. If it does, you have broken through your opponent's rhythm.

That's what boxing is all about: forcing him to fight your fight.

I was terrified of boxing.

Fear was a good thing.

But, for the first time, I didn't feel threatened.

The fights against some opponents, I didn't consider a threat.

"This is simple," I thought.

"This is what I've been looking forward to."

"I'm not afraid at all."

"There is no trepidation."

And I lost.

That's when I realized how serious life had become for me.

It's not about how hard you can swing your bat.

It's all about how hard you can get hit, and if you can keep going.

Colton asks, "Are you ready?"

We were going to a diner near the roller rink.

Colton holds the store's door open for me, and I say, "Gentlemen," with my hand on my heart.

Colton wraps his arm around my shoulder, and we lock our hands, his arm dangling from my shoulder.

The mall was alive with activity.

It was a Tuesday, but it was also the time when students had their lunch break at school.

Today, I've decided to skip.

I look at my watch; it's 1:00 p.m. While walking this floor, I would hand over the cash to Hart's men.

The cash would be handed over on the top floor, where it would appear less suspicious than on the first.

I was a little nervous because I was on high alert.

Hart always had something up his sleeve, so I began mentally preparing myself.

I tighten my grip on Colton's hand even though I know his men won't make a scene because I was not alone.

The jazz music in the mall made my breathing slower, forcing me to concentrate on the rhythm of the music.

Being in a public place for this occasion validated me.

Besides, I was on time, and I wasn't on Hart's bad side this time.

"I've been craving that cheeseburger ever since. Oh, and I'll pay this time because you've got too much on your plate" Colton says to me, reassuringly squeezing my hand.

I turn to face him, our gazes locked.

When it came to paying, we always took turns.

"Already flaunting your father's wealth? We haven't even arrived at the diner yet", I remark jokingly.

He grins, his eyes gleaming with amusement, and ruffles my hair.

"Little Carrera is constantly attempting to incorporate kook vernacular. Careful now, do not to get too close to the enemy now" Colton responds and looks at me, knowing how badly I wanted to change the social hierarchy.

"Oh, don't look at me, you're the one trying to get one's attention whenever I see you behind that counter," I mock, rolling my eyes.

Colton snorts, and a smile spreads across his face.

"Sound a lot like sophomore year?" Colton asks, making it sound like a statement rather than a question.

I play with his hands, bouncing them off my shoulder.

"Please, that was a waste of time. That damn joint put me in my place." I respond, while keeping my gaze fixed ahead of me.

I notice a man dressed in black with a green bomber jacket who immediately draws my attention.

He was one of the men who stood beside Hart when Hart confronted me.

I return my attention to Colton, my heart rate increasing and my breathing becoming more rapid.

"Shit, introduce me to the seller. I need that boost to get me through the night with drunk fucks trying to buy their way into free drinks."

I make eye contact with the man, and as his figure approaches, I slowly reach into my back pocket and pull out the cash.

I try not to break character by pretending to be interested in the stores around me.

"I don't know, man, it's pretty legit. I wouldn't want to reveal the secret ingredient to conviction." I bend my wrist, exposing the cash so the man can get a good grip on it.

In my prereferral vision, I see the man on my right reach out and take the money from my hand in a split second.

There is no eye contact.

Otherwise, you'll blow your cover.

I clench my fist, squeezing the air and clutching the fictitious object that was once in my hand.

"You can't change the world unless you're willing to dust off your pride first," Colton says softly as he readjusts his arm to a more comfortable position on my shoudlers.

We walk in silence, which I shared with him with ease.

I look down at the people on the floors below us: kids going into stores, parents chatting while their children play on the playground.

For the first time in a long time, I felt normal, and I wished I could keep it that way.

"I'm planning a trip home in a few months and think you should join me. We can go back to the gas station where you flipped off the cashier for closing the bathroom too early." Colton says, trying hard not to smile.

I laugh and shake my head as I recall the time we went on a road trip and stopped at a gas station before driving the last hour to our destination.

"I wasn't going to let him off the hook for giving me a UTI." I confess.

Colton scoffs, "9-1-1. What is your emergency? There is a middle-aged man who is refusing to give me the keys to the bathroom." Colton imitates my voice, exaggerating the tone.

We burst out laughing at his terrible impersonation.

"There is also a teenage boy with me who thought it was a good idea to go on a trip with no stops. I believe it is a federal offense." I say in a deep voice, making a phone buzz noise and using my hand as a phone.

Colton furrows his brows and forms a 'o' with his mouth.

"However, ma'am, brace yourself for the sight of a retreating figure running to your left." Colton says this as he removes his arm from my shoulder.

He walks ahead of me picking up his pace, mimicking my running style.

I give him a sidelong glance before chasing after him.

I tried to run after Colton, but his long legs made it difficult for me to catch up with him.

A wave of déjà vu washes over me, reminding me of how things used to be when we were kids.

While we run through the crowd, Colton runs ahead, causing the crowd to part like the Red Sea.

The sound of our shoes striking the marble floor, creating a beat against the hollow walls.

I missed the spontaneous adventures we had.

Weaving our way through the obstacles in our path, looking for the positive in everything.

Colton made life easier by always having a smile on his face and a joke up his sleeve ready to lighten the mood.

I laugh as I see his figure bouncing up and down on the tile.

He was imitating how he thought I ran, shaking his hands in the air and shifting his hips from side to side.

Some people stopped to stare, but I kept running.

I ignored some of the stares, but was taking in the ones who looked at us in awe.

As we run towards it, the vibrant colors of the diner become more visible.

Every weekend, we came here to catch up.

When we visited the Outer Banks, it was a regular stop for us.

The aroma of burgers entered my nostrils, causing me to quicken my pace.

Colton walks to the door and holds it open until I arrive.

The doorbell rings, alerting the cook to the fact that someone has entered the diner.

"Oh, well, well! It's about time you two showed up! I've been waiting for you to try the new milkshake I've been working on; I'd like to include it on the new menu" Max beams with delight and hands each of us a menu.

I side hug Max as Colton daps him up and slide into the diner booth.

When I sat on it, the leather felt cold against my skin.

The last time we were here, it was white, but since the renovations, the theme has changed to red and white.

Max walks around the counter, pulling out his pen and paper.

"What's the usual? We just added some new food to the menu, and if you turn to page 3, you'll see that we've also added some new milkshake flavors." Max says to us as he points to the menu, and I turn to page 3.

I scan the flavors, eager to try the new flavor.

The origin of a modern party can be traced back to anthropological principles: humans gather and share food to reduce hostility and signal friendship.

Everything we do is done to change people's minds.

We form friendships to express certain emotions, such as love, while avoiding others, such as loneliness.

We eat certain foods in order to enjoy their brief presence on our tongues. We read to enjoy thinking about other people's ideas.

Sufficient sleep, exercise, nutritious food, friendship, and mental peace are all necessities, not frills.

I overcome the opposition with good company, which forces me to face reality in the proper manner.

As I watch Colton flip through the menu, furrowing his brows in concentration to decide on his order, I am engulfed with a sense of peace.

I have no idea what I did to earn Colton's friendship.

He was the source of my happiness.

As if a lighthouse was guiding me back to shore.

I scan the menu, sticking my tongue out slightly, trying to decide what I was in the mood for today.

While looking at the lunch specials, I tap my nails on the menu cover, scratching it quietly.

I crossed my legs beneath the table, trying to contain the excitement that was building up inside of me.

I felt like a kid in a candy store.

"Yeah, I'll go with the usual. Sweet tea on the side, and for dessert, I'll go with the dark forest chocolate cake and Oreo milkshake." Colton recites and looks up at Max, assuring him that he has written it down.

I glance at Colton, "Damn. I'm glad that you're paying this time."

Colton smirks and leans back, one arm resting on the seat.

"The tab will be held until you return to the bar." Colton says to me.

I hadn't seen him at the bar in a long time.

I'd wait for him until he was finished, then we'd sneak some drinks up to the balcony and lie on a blanket under the stars.

"I'll order a cheeseburger with an extra side of fries. Strawberry cheesecake shake, and a glass of water, please." I say to Max.

Max beams with delight as he takes our menus and dances his way to the kitchen to the beat of the music in the diner.

"There she is, I miss this," Colton says to me, resting his face in his hands as he watches me.

"Remember when our parents used to bring us here? The excitement on the drive here was palpable. Our little Nintendo's, Mario Kart on repeat. I'd give anything to go back in time and hear Naomi hushing us to keep it quiet in the back.

Our parents chastise us for being Pogues when they secretly longed being Pogues. I mean, my mom had to warm up to my dad, but we were literally living out our parents' lives."

Colton takes in what I say, a smile on his face as he sips his lemonade through his straw.

"Mike used to have a thing for Naomi, I can't believe it. Your mother was jealous of how my mother would sweep him off his feet. But she intervened and expressed her feelings to your father."

"It took a while for my mother to realize that Luke wasn't the one for her. They had a toxic relationship, which my mother always warned me about. It irritates me when she breathes down my neck every second. Why can't she be more like your mom? Your parents couldn't care less about what you're doing."

"Oh yeah, getting in trouble with Shoupe should definitely not worry your parents." Colton teases.

"Don't tell me you didn't enjoy fleeing with his clothes after he refused to let my dad bail you out for two days after Kelce called you in for beating the shit out of him." I can't stop laughing as I recall Colton beating up Kelce for starting a fight in his bar.

Colton sighs, recalling his previous encounter with Kelce. The two never got along, and we still don't know why. Their paths never crossed, which made me wonder why he was bothering Colton.

"Son of a bitch walks into the bar thinking he's tough, starting unnecessary fights to boost his fucking ego," Colton says, as Max appears around the corner with our food.

I lick my lips before offering to take my plate from Max.

My stomach grumbles, so I dig in right away.

The warm burger, juicy and thick just the way I like it, melted in my mouth and caused me to moan in delight.

"It would be interesting to see if these fights humbled the kid in 10 years. I doubt he took a beating from his parents because he lacks responsibility." I say this with food in my mouth.

There are some people you meet who you just know their parents never disciplined them as a child, resulting to them turning into a spoiled snob.

"Everything he owns has a golden bow on it; I doubt his parents care." Colton reacts by tossing a fry into the air and catching it with his mouth.

"You hang with trash you become trash. Fuck Mike. I love your dad, but shit. Has he seen the kids at your school?" Colton asks me.

I scoff at my father's remark.

When I persuaded my father to bail out John B, he didn't hesitate to tell me that my friends were trash.

"He doesn't notice. He believes I should give them all another chance or that I'm not trying hard enough."

While he looks at me, sympathy flows through his green eyes like speckles, like a shooting star gliding across the universe, quick but visible.

I've told Colton about the girls at school and how they treat me.

He wanted me to discuss it with the principal, but I always found an excuse to keep Miranda safe.

I reflected on how there are two kinds of secrets: those you want to keep and those you would never dare to reveal.

Secrets are pessimistic beings.

They do not exist in daylight.

They glowed faintly in forgotten corners, enigmatic mind nooks, and misplaced memory maps.

Secrets that lurk in the shadows of the soul.

With such a secret, the secret itself becomes irrelevant after a while.

"It does not matter that you kept it. If you need to keep some secrets, that is perfectly fine with me."

Colton had made it clear about our secrets, realizing the weight they carried for someone.

That's probably why the guilt I felt from not telling him the truth never boiled over too much.

I thought about it and came to the conclusion that a best friend is someone who understands even when they don't understand.

"It's difficult to give them a second chance, when the people they surround themselves with influence the nature of being the opposition without fully realizing it." Colton shifts his plate to the side, his gaze fixed on me.

Rafe, on the other hand, was someone Colton was aware of.

He was aware of Rafe's antics, occasionally bringing it to the bar and giving Colton the impression that he was the enemy.

Rafe and Colton occasionally crossed paths as children because Colton's father worked on boats with Ward.

However, they never acknowledged each other.

They were strangers who never became acquainted.

He recognized Rafe as the person I eventually came to know.

Connecting the dots to Kelce while seeking to avoid the group

It piqued my interest to see my father's point of view from his perspective.

Putting myself in his shoes and realizing that he labeled my friends as trash while the Kooks around me all fit the definition of his statement.

He ignored my comments, dismissing my complaints about how they were the actual trash that my father should have been referring to.

Looking at his business partner's son as if he were some prince, instead of taking the time to understand who Rafe was.

"He's too far down to realize that the people who crossed my path, excluding Sarah, influenced his daughter to spiral down a hole that led her to bad habits." I admit.

Even though I couldn't bring myself to tell him the truth, he made it simple for me to subtly express my feelings, putting me at ease.

The silence engulfs us once more, and we sit there wondering how our lives had turned out since we both moved here.

Change was difficult, but we had no choice but to adapt.

I felt like I was sitting in a booth with a longtime friend I hadn't seen in a long time, catching up, but there was always something missing.

"There's always something to be depressed about, but not today. Let's finish this chocolate cake and head to the rink, shall we?", Colton says, raising my chin to look at him.

When he mentions chocolate cake, my mood immediately shifts, and I excitedly slide the chocolate cake towards us, which was on the other side of the table.

Colton smears chocolate icing on my cheek just as I pick up my fork to take a bite.

Rafe's POV:

Hannah's blue eyes lock me in a trance as I lean on the escalator's handrail.

Why don't we give "friends with benefits" a shot? She asks a probing question.

"Because I don't think I'd like to have the benefits you provide me taken away," I respond quickly.

"Just friends then," she says calmly as she steps off the escalator.

Hannah invited me to come to the mall today to escape the stresses of life.

She suggested we hang out because we hadn't had the opportunity to do so since I graduated.

I agreed because I'd been to hell and back in the last week. I needed to get my mind off of things.

I had to leave because my father was locked up in his office and only came out for food.

It hurt me to see him in such a state, especially after losing a daughter, and I felt compelled to leave him alone in the house.

Hannah and I have known each other for many years.

We had an intimate relationship, but it was never serious.

There is a polar opposite to déjà vu.

It's referred to as "never seen before."

It's when you keep meeting the same people or going to the same places, but each time feels like the first time.

Everyone is a stranger.

Nothing is ever familiar.

I hadn't realized until then, that this was a story about lonely people.

A story about absence and loss, and that this was why I had taken refuge in it until it became confused with my own life.

Like someone who had escaped into the pages of a novel, because those I needed to love appeared to be ghosts.

Inhabiting the mind of a stranger.

Nothing is stranger or more perplexing than a relationship between people who only know each other by sight, who meet and observe each other on a daily - if not hourly - basis and are compelled to maintain the pose of an indifferent stranger, neither greeting nor addressing each other, whether out of etiquette or their own whim.

Sex with a stranger restores your sense of decadence, boldness, and youth.

Sex with a stranger is living on the ledge.

Everything else is life wrapped in cotton wool.

Hannah walks ahead of me, forcing me to quicken my speed in order to catch up with her.

She giggled as I attempted to catch up to her but couldn't find her in the crowd.

I finally catch up to her, holding her hand and allowing her to lead the way.

We walked by a diner, and the sound of couples laughing entered my ears.

I didn't have time to pause and appreciate the stability of these people's relationships.

Every time I looked, it was as if I were watching a movie with a glass separating us.

Despite the outside world, families and couples laughed with each other.

I'd turn away, knowing I couldn't have it.

I questioned if I would ever be able to establish a family.

If only I could find someone who could see past my imperfections and wrap their arms around me, making me forget everything.

Would they turn their heads if I showed them my demons, or would we captain this ship together?

If the only other alternative was to let go, I'd give them all my secrets and let them wrap their arms around my weakness.

Kiara's POV:

We say our goodbyes to Max and proceed to the rink.

I lock arms with Colton and we rush to the rink, hoping to arrive before all of the roller skating shoes were gone.

Colton checks in as I take two pairs of shoes and sit on a nearby bench to put them on.

The music begins to play, the lights go out, and a magnificent projection of stars appears everywhere.

I hurriedly tie my laces, and Colton eventually comes over to me to put on his shoes.

"Let's go! Before it gets too crowded!" I exclaim to Colton, hoping he will speed up.

Colton responds with a chuckle and quickly ties his laces, grabbing my hand and leading me to the rink.

Rafe's POV:

"It's starting! We can't miss it!", Hannah exclaims to me.

She was alluding to the part where everyone would be skating on the rink, finally skating in a circle and generating a motion.

I laugh at her cuteness and tie my shoes, skating towards her.

Third persons POV/Narrator's POV(I am still clueless lmao):

As a result, strangers are thought not as individuals, but as strangers of a specific type: the factor of distance is as generic in their perspective as the element of nearness.

They skated by each other unnoticed, engrossed by their surroundings.

A magnet was in the center, tugging them both back and forth with such force that it was thought to split them apart.

It was difficult to bring them together, but also impossible to separate them.

He was everywhere she was, even if she didn't realize it.

Her presence was always present, even if he wasn't aware of it.

They appeared to be strangers in a packed room from a distance.

The crowd sifted them through like an hourglass, never allowing them to touch.

Blending in with the sand and never seeing each other again.

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A/N: Less than 2 weeks until we get our fav cast back 🥺😩 I cannot wait for madrew contentttt ALSO JD AND RUDY OMG JJPOPE