▷ Exile - Taylor Swift ft. Bon Iver

«You were my town»
___

A/N

April 29th 2021 update: Wow! Hi! It's been a long time. So, this chapter was originally named Lovely (as in the Billie Eilish song), but after giving it some thought I realized how PERFECT Exile was for this chapter. So there you go, I changed it (although the dialogue is still the same)

Holy shit, there's a lot of dialogue in this one! Sorry for the very little amount of descriptions here, I was... not inspired? Anyway, enjoy this chapter! It's not one of my faves but it's an important one.

___

[DON'T PLAY THE SONG YET!]

July 1st, 2019

Scary, how time flies.

The trees basically fly by as the speed of the car increases, leaving part of the road behind. The way they seem blurrier and blurrier, making their shape hazy and indistinct, remind the redhead her of that impressionistic painting her roommate worked on once.

The mist of green, brown and blue colors seem to be distracting her from everything else, even from Charlie Sloane's voice. It's not until her boyfriend places a hand on top or hers, squeezing it lightly, that she notices her surrounding.

"You missed this, didn't you?" he says, eyes on the road.

Anne leans her head against the window, squeezing his hand back.

"Yeah" Anne whispers, not tearing her eyes away from the trees. "I did"

As she keeps staring out of the window, she notices how Avonlea is starting to get visible out in the horizon.

Anne knows she should feel enthusiastic about coming back home. But nothing feels exciting about the prospect of spending a whole summer in the tiny town that saw her grow up for years.

It might have to do with the fact that she knows what she has to do. She's been thinking about it  for weeks, even months — and although she doesn't like the idea at all, she knows it's what's best for everyone.

She closes her eyes for the few minutes she has left in the car before arriving there,

home.

___

"Anne!"

Charlie has just dropped her at Green Gables, and although Marilla Cuthbert is not the most affectionate woman in the world —much the contrary—, she's missed the redhead so much that she welcomes her with a bear hug.

"Marilla!" Anne says, wrapping her arms around her adoptive mother.

"My girl, I've missed you so much!" Marilla says, clearly moved by Anne's arrival. "Although you're clearly not a girl anymore"

"I haven't changed at all — I look the same"

"You do look the same, but you've grown so much, Anne"

Anne gives Marilla a warm smile before taking a quick look around the hall. "Where's Jerry?" She asks, clapping her hands together. She might not be that excited about the consequences of being back home, but she's missed everyone so much that she can't help but feel eager to see them.

Except from one of them, of course.

"He's out with Ruby, I believe" Marilla explains — there's a certain look of affection on her face that tells Anne how pleased Marilla is at the idea of Jerry and Ruby dating. "But I was thinking that maybe the three of us could go out for dinner tonight, what do you think?"

"Oh, yes — I'd love to"

"Well, I'm sure you're dying to go up to your room!"

Anne nods before giving Marilla a faint smile and taking her suitcase upstairs with her.

She feels a shiver of excitement as her door creaks open.

Oh, her room.

It's just the way she left it months ago. The same flowery duvet cover with not a single wrinkle on it and the same posters covering the grey walls. She walks to her mirror and stares at her own reflection. Marilla's right. She looks like she hasn't changed at all — her hair is just a bit longer and her freckles might have faded just a tiny bit, but deep inside she knows she has changed in a way. It probably has to do with the fact of living on her own for a whole year.

She just can't believe she has finished her first year of college.

To the left of her oval mirror, there is a collage of pictures stuck to the wall. She runs her fingers delicately through the surface of them, as if she could relive the memories trapped in those polaroids and printed photos.

She truly wishes she could.

There's a photo of Diana and her when they were twelve. That's the year she first arrived in Avonlea. Both of them are in their swimsuits, swimming in the Barry's pond, splashing each other around.

There's another one of the two of them, but Ruby's there too. It's their first year of ninth grade. They're wearing their happiest smiles and Ruby, standing in the middle, is pulling the two of them into a bear hug. Anne can't help but smile at the memory. Ruby forgot her lunch that day and Anne shared her ham and cheese sandwich with her.

Indigo blue eyes flicker through the different pictures.

Jerry is there too! An old photo of the two of them the day they left the orphanage. Jerry is flashing a smile at the camera and she's looking at him, probably rolling her eyes at some stupid remark of his. She can tell that Matthew took this picture because of its blurriness.

There's one that catches her attention instantly. She remembers it so vividly — it was last spring. Josie took this picture. It's her. And Gilbert. They're staring at God knows what from Jane's balcony.

Melancholy fills her body and she doesn't even notice how her fingers caress the picture. Somehow she can't help but feel a sinking feeling in her stomach. She's nervous. She doesn't want to see him again,

does she?

Anne Shirley-Cuthbert hoped her feelings for Gilbert Blythe would go away with them being separated, each of them in a different college. But as she talked to Stella just a few weeks ago, back in New York, she'd realized those feelings had not only not left but also gotten stronger.

There's faint knock on the ajar door that snaps her out her daydreams — and she's sort of thankful for that, because thinking of Gilbert lately is exhausting, debilitating and awfully terrifying.

It's Marilla, putting her head round the door.

"Coffee? I made your favorite"

"I'd love to" Anne replies, turning around after giving a last look to Gilbert Blythe's back in that photograph.

___

Marilla Cuthbert is enjoying dinner with her dearest children — although as she likes to keep repeating lately, they're not kids anymore. The three of them came to Anne's favorite Italian restaurant in town, now they're listening to Anne's ramble about her life in New York as she manages to eat her lasagne.

"And then Stella got that girl's number! Without even talking to her, I'm telling you" Anne tells both Marilla and Jerry as they enjoy their meal. The redhead gestures as she talks, holding her fork and moving it around in the air. "She's such a flirt!"

"Reminds me of someone" Jerry blurts out while chewing his meal, without even noticing how the words leave his lips.

She doesn't have to close her eyes to visualize the memory of two teenagers leaning their backs against a row of lockers, the head of the girl leant against the boy's shoulder.

"I'm not a flirt!"

"Yes you are! You flirt all the time!"

As soon as Jerty notices how his sister's face goes completely white and how her eyes drain of every positive emotion, he knows he's messed up.

Anne accidentally drops her fork to the floor, the silverish metal clashing against the carpet.

"I- I'm sorry" Jerry mumbles, picking the fork from the floor. Worried, he turns to look at his sister.

"Anne?" Marilla asks with concern, reaching for her daughter's hand and squeezing it tightly. "Don't worry, we'll get you another one"

"I'm not hungry anymore" are the last words Anne manages to say during the remaining dinner.

It's not until they get home and she's back into the safety of her room that she gets to talk again. Jerry knocks at her door before letting himself in anyway, not waiting for an answer.

"Hey, sis"

"Hey" she whispers, loud enough from him to hear.

"Can I come in?"

Anne smiles, so he takes that as a yes.

"I've missed you, you know" he says from under the door frame. A corner of his mouth lifts into a smile. "You and your loud music all day"

"I've missed you too and your loud presence all day"

He laughs, nervously fidgeting with his fingers as he sits on her bed. "Look, I'm sorry for bringing Gilb- him up earlier"

Anne notices how Jerry's turned out to be more of a calmer person nowadays. Must be Ruby's doing — she gets him. The two of them really complement each other.

"It's alright" she shrugs.

Jerry doesn't know with any certainty if he should ask what he wants to ask or not. But Anne's definitely not okay and he would do anything to see her go back to her old self again.

"What happened between you two?"

The girl's face doesn't show any kind of emotional switch when he asks, and Jerry wonders if that's a good or a bad sign.

"I told you" Anne says, eyes fixed on the window and the trees outside, dancing in the summer breeze. "We just fell apart"

"That's it?"

"That's it" she repeats, trying her best to sound as convincing as possible.

"Well, he comes back tomorrow so I might ask him, you know, just to check"

Tomorrow? Already?

Anne can feel how her heartbeat accelerates at the mere thought of Gilbert Blythe being back. She can't help but imagine how it would feel like to actually see him again considering how much of an emotional rollercoaster it already is to simply think about him.

"Ask him — he'll tell you the same thing"

"Alright" Jerry says, rubbing his temple. "Look, sis, you know I love you, but whatever happened between you two needs to be fixed"

"Whatever happened between you two"

As if it was that simple, Anne thinks, biting her bottom lip and containing her tears. She doesn't want to cry — not about him. But she can't help it. Just thinking about him and the last time they saw each other makes her sick and miserable at the same time.

Fuck, I miss him so much.

"What if it can't be fixed?" She says — her voice cracks but thankfully, Jerry doesn't notice.

"Well, find a way" Jerry says — his sister can sense the frustration in his words. "Because you two being mad at each other for whatever reason is going to affect the whole group"

Anne knows Jerry's right, the last thing their group needs now is some stupid tension between Gilbert and her. And she knows where Jerry's words are coming from — this is the first time he's ever had a group of friends. He needs them.

"I'm not mad at him" Anne admits.

I could never be mad at him.

"Is he mad at you?" Jerry asks carefully, emphasizing the word "he". It goes beyond his mind how a person as whipped as Gilbert could be mad at Anne.

"I think he is, yes" Liar. She knows he is — he made it pretty clear last time they saw each other. Maybe that's why she's so afraid of seeing him again, because she fears that he's going to tell her again how mad he is at her.

She wouldn't bear it.

"Do you want me to talk to him?"

"No, Jerry — it's okay" she sighs. "Maybe I'm the one who should talk to hun and... and make up my mind for once"

Jerry raises a curious eyebrow.

"You know, I still remember what you told me at Fred's birthday party last year"

Anne looks up to him.

She remembers too.

"You said that it was all about Gilbert and that you were confused, that you didn't know what you were feeling anymore" Jerry says.

"Yeah"

Anne relives the events of that day — how she freaked out about Gilbert making out with someone else, how he begged her to explain what was bothering her, all the texting, all the intense staring...

" It's you! It's you!" she wanted to scream.

"Do you feel that way again, now that you're probably going to see him again?" Jerry asks.

See him again. See him again.

Anne allows herself to fantasize for a few seconds, thinking about the different ways in which they could meet again.

Would I bump into him at the supermarket?

Would he knock on the door to hang out with Jerry?

Would he knock at my door with two cups of coffee?

Would we meet in that same spot we met for the first time? Would he sit in the exact same bench?

"I never stopped feeling that way" she admits.

Jerry gives her a sympathetic look before standing up from her bed. He kisses the top of her head and then he aims to the door.

"Get some sleep, sis" he from under the door frame. "You've had a long day"

"I'm not tired, we could play Call of Duty"

Her brother smiles. "I think you need to get some rest and maybe reflect things overnight"

"Fine, but we'll play tomorrow, okay?"

They look at each other before starting laughing.

"I've missed you so much" he says.

"Good night, Jerry"

"Night, sis"

Anne lies in bed that night, eyes wide open because of the distressing uncertainty of the possibility of seeing him again...

Gilbert.

Anne doesn't get any sleep that night. Or the following night.

___

July 2nd

That morning, Josephine Barry offers Fred a cup of coffee and some waffles on one of her usual elegant plates. It was just a month ago that they met for the first time, yet the young man has seemed to grow on Diana's aunt.

"Good morning, Fred the Bright"

She adored him so much that she's gotten used to call him Fred the Bright. It was a bit weird for him at first, but he didn't complain at all. He actually liked Josephine and it was good for a change to have an adult complimenting and supporting his passion for music.

"Wow" Fred says, admiring the food before him for a split second before starting to eat as if he had never eaten before in his whole life. "Thank you"

He's still not used to Josephine Barry's hospitality — or anyone else's, for that matter.

"I believe you'll perform for us tonight?" Josephine asks, taking a seat near him. Her eyes, old, and full of an experienced life, look straight into his with a questioning gaze.

"You... want me to?" Fred says, holding his mug with both hands and leaning forward on his seat. He feels a rush of excitement running up his body.

"Of course! You're my new nephew and you need to be introduced to my friends"

"Okay, thanks, aunt Jo" he says, mouth full of waffles. "I will"

After minutes of silence in between the munching Fred Bright and Josephine Barry sipping her tea quietly, she speaks again.

"You really love my Diana, don't you, boy?"

"Oh, yes" Fred replies, a flush suddenly creeping up his cheeks.

"I can tell"

Fred the Bright is not one to talk about his own feelings. He prefers to joke around instead of exposing himself with words about his heart. He doesn't have to tell anyone how he feels about Diana Barry because she knows and as far as he's concerned, that's the only thing that matters, right?

But Josephine Barry is not simply "anyone" — she's a romantic, passionate and poetic soul who is basically in love with the concept of love. Fred decides then, that is she showed so many interest in his music not-impulsed career, maybe he should show interest in her passion about feelings and the matters of the heart.

"Everything is better when I'm with your niece. Diana's given me everything I've never even dreamed to have" he says, faintly but dreamily. "I don't know how, but she did"

With a satisfied smile, Josephine Barry reaches a hand acros the table to place it on his shoulder.

"You see, Fred Wright, romance is a pesky business" she declares, lifting her chin with pride about her own knowledge and experience. "No sense to be made of it"

"Huh?"

"I mean that love's a strange thing, don't you think? It just arrives, storms in and makes a mess of everything you had in place" she says. "You have to hold on to that kind of love, dear. I believe it only happens once in your life"

"It's already happened to me" Fred whispers, not even looking at Josephine or even his precious, almost finished breakfast — he's too amazed at his own words about Diana Barry. "I don't want to ever let go"

"I know" she tells him with the wink of an eye.

For a split second, Fred Wright has an idea.

The now nineteen year-old young man is known to be a creative one. Some may think of him as an ingenious individual, some others would call him "Fred the Bright" and who knows, maybe a few years from now, when he has signed with a decent discography, crowds would scream his name.

But right now, he just feels as plain old Fred. And it's not a bad thing, really — because he has Diana Barry with him. And he's not planning on letting go.

The idea evaporates immedialy as Diana appears in the dining room right in time, wearing a denim skirt and a white blouse, her sunglasses resting on her dark hair.

"Hurry up, we need to pick Gil from the airport" she hurries.

___

Gilbert Blythe carries two not-so-heavy suitcases as he appears through the airport arrival's gate. Sweat is running down his temble and he curses under his breath some "fucks" and perhaps a "holy shit" as he blames global warming for this atrocious warmth.

He's not particularly enthusiasted at the idea of being back home for almost two months, but somehow there's a light spark of hope he carries with him as well.

Maybe seeing his friends could actually do him some good.

Said spark of hope fades away instantly as soon as he notices that there's no one there to welcome him — he knew is dad and Bash couldn't possibly pick him up today because of one of John's regular visits to the doctor to check he's still doing okay.

And neither could Fred, since he can't drive, or Diana, who came up with a lame excuse last minute.

Maybe Jerry came to pick me up, since he's learnt to drive recently?

Or Ruby, if she's not too busy being overdramatic about something?

But there's no one there for him when families, friends or significant others greet the recently arrived passengers of his flight.

Resigned and with his head down, he looks for the closest exit as he dials the taxi company number.

He doesn't notice a pair approaching him when they yell a "Surprise!".

Then hazel eyes lift up to find Fred Wright and Diana Barry, both of them holding a hand-made banner that reads "Welcome home, Gilby-boo" with colourful letters and a neat handwriting that obviously belong to the raven-haired girl.

"Gilby... boo...?"

Gilbert frowns inevitably at the new nickname. He hates it already.

"Welcome back!" They both shout in unison.

The boy can't help but smile faintly at the sight of his friends. For a second, being back feels good.

"Freddie, hey" Gilbert says, playing with one of his suitcase's handle. "Di, you look fantastic"

His friends pull him into a bear hug that makes almost make him trip on his feet.

"Thank you, Gil —you too"

They help him get his luggage in the trunk of Diana's car once they get to the airport's parking area.

"Excited for this summer?" Diana asks once they're back inside the car. She's just started the engine and there's a lane pop song blasting through the radio.

Gilbert's left at the backseat, taking his spot right behind Fred's passenger's seat. He's about to lean his head on the window when he notices something to his left.

It's folded neatly, and Gilbert doesn't have to ask to know whom it belongs to.

It's an oversized denim jacket, full of band patches and badges. There are even some lyrics written on a sleeve. He doesn't have to take a closer look to read them either. He knows because he wrote them with a permanent ink sharpie over a year ago. "Last night I dreamt that somebody loved me".

Gilbert realizes then what being back home for summer vacation means — and suddenly his mood changes completely.

"Not really" he mumbles, answering Diana's question.

He notices how the girl and Fred share a look of concern.

"Okay... well..." Diana says cautiously, eyes on the road. "We are excited- we are happy that you're back"

"Yeah! Can't wait to live with my best friend again!" Fred says from the passenger's seat with a toothy grin. "I've planned so many stuff!"

"I'm thrilled" Gilbert replies with a monotonous and sarcastic tone that makes Diana goes completely silent for a minute, half embarrased, half tense.

Deep inside Gilbert knows that he shouldn't talk to Fred like that, but what could he possibly do after finding An- that jacket? Just seeing a forgotten piece of clothing lying on Diana's backseat brought back so many memories that were already haunting him. Memories of him and a certain redhead. She's wearing the jacket as they lean their back against a row of lockers. He, curiously gazing at her, notices an uncovered spot on the fabric, and takes a sharpie out of his backpack.

"What are you doing, you asshole?"

"I'm being a fashion designer, duh"

He remembers the sound of her voice, the dangerous proximity of her freckles when he leans forward to write the message on the fabric and the feeling of the sharpie against the denim jacket.

He remembers everything.

"Okay, enough, Gilbert!"

Fred's annoyed voice snaps him out of his unwanted trip down memory lane.

"Fred, leave him be, okay?" Diana says, being the rational and reasonable friend, as per usual. "I bet Gilbert's just tired, right, Gil?"

"I'm exhausted" Gilbert says after letting out a sigh of exasperation.

"He's being an ass" Fred adds. He's not one to get annoyed easility, but Gilbert's getting on his nerves with that attitude.

"Yeah, that too" the hazel-eyed boy scoffs. "I'm a man of many talents"

Diana looks at him from the front rear-view mirror.

"Don't worry, Gil — I'll drop you two home and then you'll have time for yourself"

"Thank you, Diana" is the last thing he says before finally focusing his eyes on the clear summer sky outside the window. The particular shade of blue reminds him of something.

Of someone.

___

July 3rd

Gilbert and Fred are clearing the kitchen table after sharing their breakfast with John and Bash. It almost felt as it nothing had changed at all since last year, just the four of them, being a... precisely peculiar family.

Apparently, Gilbert seemed quiet and his attitude had also calmed down chilled a bit.

Key word: apparently.

"So, now that you've had your eight hours of sleep" Fred says out of the sudden as he passes on some recently washed dishes to Gilbert for the latter to dry them off. "Are we going to talk about the elephant in the room or...?"

Gilbert takes a look around the tiny kitchen, as if he was looking for an actual elefant in a room.

"I don't know what you're talking about"

"Seriously?" Fred raises his eyebrows, not in a teasing way as he used to, but in a curious one. "Red hair, freckles, flowery dresses and band t-shirts... ring a bell?"

"I'm over her, Fred" Gilbert replies, apparently unbothered at the mention of the redhead who used to drive him crazy.

"Are you sure?"

"Completely"

Fred purses his lips, leaning his back against the sink and thinking his opinion out loud.

"It's easy to say you're over someone when you haven't seen them in a while. But then you'll see her, listen to the sound of her voice or just see her smile and you're gonna be fucked"

Gilbert looks at Fred — he's trying to come up with a proper answer.

When did he turn into a hopeless romantic?

"I'll be fine, Romeo" he eventually says, trying to smooth things up a bit between them. Although Fred made it absolutely clear that he wasn't upset or mad about yesterday, Gilbert felt guilty anyway. He wasn't used to talking to anyone like that.

"Okay. I just wanted to make sure" Fred says, crossing his arms over his chest. "I don't want you... to go through what you went through last Christmas, okay?"

Gilbert doesn't reply. His mind goes back a few months ago — Christmas break. It feels like that's the only thing he's ever done lately. Thinking, remembering and going back to events he doesn't really want to relive.

He shakes his thoughts away. It's not like Fred knows what happened last Christmas.

"Have you... been seeing someone?" Fred asks.

"No, not since Christine"

Fred Wright doesn't like the way Gilbert Blythe speaks. Or his body language. Or the way his eyebrows furrow in annoyance or how his eyes are drained from every emotion that's not anger. It seems like he's built up a wall between him and the rest of the world, and Fred's afraid he doesn't know how to tear that wall down.

"Gilbert, are you okay?"

"Yes"

"You seem... angry. You never told me what happened with Anne that winter evening"

"I got tired of chasing her around, that's it" Gilbert says. He's leaning his back against the table, looking straight at Fred as he talks. "I deserve something better"

"Then why did you end things up with Christine last Christmas?"

"I got tired of hooking up with random girls too"

"You do seem tired"

"I'm fucking exhausted and you won't stop asking questions"

Kind of beaten, Fred sighs.

"I'm sorry, Fred" Gilbert apologizes. "I'm being an ass"

His friend Fred Wright, who is more of a brother, really, looks at him with a weak and worried smile.

"Your ass is nice"

Gilbert smiles weakly. "Eh, you stop it"

"Why don't we do something tonight?"

"I don't know" Gilbert shrugs.

"It'll be just us and Jerry, come on! For the old times's sake" Fred tells him, thinking that maybe, the hazel-eyed boy just needs a good distraction, meaning a boy's exclusive night. "No girls"

"Fine"

___

Just as Fred and Gilbert's conversation takes place, Anne Shirley-Cuthbert is surprised by an overjoyed Diana Barry, who's driven all her way from Charlottetown to visit her bosom friend, recently arrived from New York.

"I can't believe you're back" Diana says, hugging Anne in the middle of her room.

"Me neither"  Anne says quietly when Diana kisses her cheek. "God I've missed you so much"

"Sorry I couldn't visit — But I was trying to be the best pianist in Prince Edward Island"

Anne chuckles faintly — she wishes she could show Diana how proud she actually feels. But she's been feeling... emotionless? apathetic? lately. "That's good, Di"

"Are you okay?" Diana says, studying her face. "You look... sad?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. It's just... being back brings back so many memories"

The raven-haired girl is about to ask when they're both startled by a knock on Anne's bedroom door.

"I'm sorry, who gave you the right to throw a reunion party without me?"

A head of golden curls appears. She's wearing a baby pink short jumpsuit and a radiant smile.

"Rubs!"

"Heeeeeey" Ruby says, eyes and voice filled with excitement. She jumps at her friend's arms, pulling them both into a bear hug.

"God, I can't believe the three of us are together again" Diana says once they separate from each other. "When was the last time?"

"Christmas break" Anne mumbles under her breath.

That fateful Christmas break.

A spark of mischief crosses Ruby's blue eyes.

"We have to do something tonight — let's celebrate! The golden trio is back!"

"I don't know" Anne says. What if she bumps into him? Or worse, what if these two invite Jerry and Fred to come along?

What if Gilbert comes too?

"Oh, look at her!" Ruby ruffles Anne's hair, messing it completely. "Avonlea is not enough for little miss New York?"

At least that makes Anne laugh. And Diana's reassuring look confirms her that everything's under control. It's settled. It's a girls night.

___

Anne Shirley-Cuthbert stares at her reflection in the mirror. She's picked a silky, short, delicate pale pink dress that reaches way over her knees. The slim straps highlights her figure and she likes the outfit overall — it's not really her style, but Stella bought it for her on her birthday and Anne has to admit she actually likes the way it looks on her body.

She turns to her closet, considering which shoes she should wear. This dress would obviously go great with her pair of black heels but...

"Definitely not!" she says to herself, a look of disgust on her face as soon as she remembers how much her feet hurt at prom. She takes her pair of high black converse and a black purse.

"Much better!" she winks at her own reflection in the mirror, letting out a genuine laugh.

It's the first time in a while she's talked to herself.

It's going to be a good night.

___

Gilbert's been waiting on his porch for fifteen minutes straight. And if he usually hates tardiness, just imagine how worse it can get when he's in his now usual current state of anger.

Fred Wright, who's waiting there too, is completely unbothered by their drive's lack of punctuality.

It takes another five minutes for their drive to show up. Gilbert hops in the way-too-familiar car that again, bring memories back — the remembrance of a younger version of himself, cuddled up in the passenger's seat as he watched the girl in the driver's seat whilst they're singing to The Smiths.

"Sorry I'm late. I had to drive Anne to Diana's and she-"

Gilbert doesn't let Jerry Baynard continue. He doesn't even want to hear her name. He wouldn't bear it, he can't hear her name.

"Where are we going again?" Gilbert asks from the passenger's seat.

"Some new club they opened downtown. It's cool" Fred says, popping his head from the backseat.

Gilbert doesn't reply — this has become a habit and Fred doesn't know how he's going to cope with that for a whole summer.

With Jerry's inexperienced driver's eyes focused on the road and a few minutes of long silence, Fred talks again, trying to make Gilbert laugh or at least react.

"Can't believe that Jerry Baynard-Cuthbert has actually learnt to drive"

"I'm a man now" Jerry says, letting out a little laugh under his breath.

Gilbert Blythe smiles faintly.

Well, that's something.

___

Gilbert Blythe scans the crowded club with hazel eyes and furrowed eyebrows. He shouldn't have come out tonight — he's not in the mood for a party, and Fred and Jerry cracking jokes all the time are definitely not helping.

Fred is screaming the lyrics of a song to the top of his lungs as Jerry records everything for his instagram story. With a shake of his head, Gilbert takes a sip of his drink as he looks around the room, not looking for anything in particular.

[PLAY THE SONG NOW!]

But then is eyes lie on something. Something he hasn't purposely been looking for tonight, but there she is.

She looks beautiful.

It has been quite a long time since the last time he has seen her, in person, at least. But there she was, the actual personification of her, flesh and bone, in such a short distance.

He usually sees her over social media, but never too much. He is afraid that the fact of being exposed to her will hurt him way more than the way she hurt him half a year ago.

I can see you standing honey

She is paralyzed on the dancefloor, static, whilst the rest of present bodies dance to an unknown song. Every once in a while, she switches her eyes between the screen of her iPhone and a gives quick panoramic look to the rest of the room.

She tries to laugh as a pathetic attempt to make one of her friends think that everything's okay.

Laughing but the joke's not funny at all

Anne.

Gilbert knows she has seen him. She's tapping her fingers against her phone case.

She's nervous.

And it took you five whole minutes

to pack us up and leave me with it,

holding all this love out here in the hall

They both know, but after some kind of mute agreement, they decide to act like strangers. It was rather awkward for the both of them.

I think I've seen this film before
and I didn't like the ending

He still has not forgiven her and she knows. It is not like she is expecting him to do it anyway.

You're not my homeland anymore

Gilbert scans her carefully with his eyes, and despite the fact that it's just been six months, she's nothing like the eighteen-year old girl he left behind.

But she's still herself. She's still Anne.

Shirley.

You were my town

Her now longer, shiny auburn hair, cascades down her shoulders to her back. The pale pink dress she is wearing, so silky, would have horrified the younger version of herself.

But she looks so fucking good, he thinks.

I think I've seen this film before

She uses more make up now, but nothing excessive. It suits her, and he can tell that she puts effort on the task. A long, dainty black line lays on her eyelids, and a lipstick of a shade slightly darker than her skin highlights the slight tan that the New York sun has left on her skin, now sticky and warm.

He keeps his gaze on her, wondering how he was able to decypher her mind with perfect ease not that long ago. However, now he would give anything, anything, to know what is going on inside her head.

I see you staring honey

As for Anne, she knows that it was inevitable for them to end up bumping into each other at some point. She just didn't know that they would see each other that soon. He just came back yesterday.

But Avonlea was a small town, to say the least.

Second, third and hundredth changes

Anne stares at the incoming text from her boyfriend that has just popped on her screen. And she feels guilty — right now, her legs are shaking irremediably for the boy standing a few inches from her.

Those eyes add insult to injury

She tries to ignore the situation, but she can't; too many memories are flooding her mind.

I think I've seen this film before

Late night drives, mixtapes, shared coffees in the intimacy of a hidden hideaway.

And I didn't like the ending

She lifts her eyes, looking for him on the dancefloor. He's not looking right now.

She stares at him.

His hair is just the same, curly and messy. He looks exactly as she left him.

She left him — or did he leave her? She doesn't know anymore.

But now he dresses differently. Those band T-shirts must lay messily at the end of his closet, leaving room for more elegant shirts like the grey one he's wearing right now.

You were my crown

Well, he's a doctor now (almost). I'm sure he wants to look more elegant.

He laughs at some joke Fred Wright must have whispered in his ear. His lips curved up and his eyes crinkle. It's a fake laugh, of course — she knows that kind of laugh. He's nervous. He hasn't stopped tapping his left feet ever since he first caught her eye tonight.

She wishes his laugh could be genuine, like the ones he used to let out whenever the two of them were together in a not too far way past.

She misses it.

I think I've seen this film before
so I'm leaving out the side door

Anne can't take it anymore, so she leaves.

She doesn't know, of course, but the boy watches her as she says something to her bosom friend's ears right before leaving the dancefloor. Gilbert doesn't know why, but he  suddenly feels guilty. He takes a deep breath and drinks the last sips of his beer.

So step right out,
there is no amount 
of crying I can do for you

He really hoped that the pain would be gone after all this time.

All this time
we always walked a very thing line

But it there was something there, still.

And he hates it, because he doesn't know what he's feeling anymore. Is it pain? Is it anger? Is it nostalgia? What is this? he wonders the different possible emotions he could be feeling right this second, but he's unable to read his own feelings right now.

I never learned to read your mind
I couldn't turn things around

He separates from his of friends, excusing himself mumbling a "I'll get another drink".

He does not know if it is the alcohol burning down his throat or the fact of seeing her after all this time, but he feels drowzy and an urge to cry. He's breathing heavily and he needs some air.

___

Anne is in the rooftop, in need for some fresh air. The only possible company is a younger boy that is smoking a few feet away from her. Apart from that, everyone is inside. She regrets coming out tonight, and suddenly wished she was home instead, trapped inside the safety of the four walls that conform her bedroom.

The cigar falls onto the ground, and after having crumbled it with his shoe, the boy goes back inside. She leans her body on the fence, looking out at the lights of this little town that watched her grow up. The far away lights look like a painting — it reminds her of her roommate's art.

She breathes in. Inhales air. And thinks of him — how she wishes to be able to talk to him now, change this month of August for last December.

Maybe things could be different now if she hadn't been such a fool.

So many signs,
so many signs

And as if some kind of superior God-like being had heard her thoughts, she hears how the doors behind them open abruptly.

She turns around, and that's when she sees him.

Gilbert.

His hands shake when he realizes who the person standing a few feet from him is. It's been so long since they've been this close.

I think I've seen this film before

He can clearly see now her ocean blue eyes, her light freckles covering her face like constellations, her long eyelashes and a look of... surprise? plastered on her face.

You're not my homeland anymore,
so what am I defending now?

She doesn't say a word, but stares at him fixedly instead. She can barely hear her own panting and heavy breathing mixed with all the rhythmical beat coming out from the speakers inside.

And then, a gesture. A half-smile that timidly creeps up her face, as if it was scared to come out. It's a nervous one, definitely, because she's dying inside.

He would've never guessed his next actions, but he smiles back — his smile is just as timid, just as innocent, with the same translation to verbal language.

I think I've seen this film before

I miss you too.

She notices how his half smile doesn't last longer that a couple of seconds. It seems like he's mentally reminded himself that he has plenty of reasons to be mad at her. He frowns now.

All this time,
we always walked a very thin line

Gilbert watches her as she softens her expression, which turns a bit sad. And even though he doesn't want to, he souldn't and even though he tries to stop himself against all force, he can't help but whisper out her name.

She'll always be his biggest weakness.

"Anne"

It was just six months ago that she heard her name pronounced by him for the last time, but it seemed like it was ages ago, maybe years.

So many signs

Every single speech she'd mentally prepared in case she bumped into him seems to fade away. She feels as if she's forgotten how to word her thoughts, or how to speak at all. Is she even existing right now? She feels as if she's floating, not standing steady on her feet.

"Gilbert"

Its probably the way she whispers his name, or how beautiful she looks that early summer night, or maybe the fact that he misses her more than he should... but he blinks twice before turning his back to her.

I gave so many signs

Fred was right.

He's fucked.

He wasn't ready to see her again.

"No, wait! I- let's talk" she says, taking a few steps closer to him.

He doesn't turn around, but stands static in front of the door, as if he was thinking or considering what to do next. She can only see how his jaw moves as he words his answer.

"No"

The way he talks, so cold, so... harsh, makes her heart drop to her feet.

"What about tomorrow?" she begs him, with a voice that's not hers. "Let's talk tomorrow, please"

Gilbert turns around then.

For a split second, his eyes meet hers. But that's all it lasts — just a split second, maybe even less than that. He focus his eyes then on something behind her, not wanting to look at the redhead.

She suddenly misses the hazel of his eyes and how he used to stare at her all the time. She misses the eye contact, the intense, never-ending gazing at each other, sometimes when they were alone, leaning their backs against a row of lockers and some other times when they felt it was just the two of them in a room full of people.

Have things really changed that much?

"Maybe we shouldn't talk" Gilbert whispers quietly. "Maybe we shouldn't talk at all, anymore"

"W-what?" she stammers.

"I said we shouldn't talk anymore"

"Is that... what you want...?"

"Yes" is the last thing he says before going back inside. Anne doesn't know if he goes home or if he chooses to stay with Fred and Jerry, because she stays on the rooftop, standing there like a defeated fool and thinking that, after all,

she deserves all of this.

___

Anne doesn't do much the day after her brief yet unfortunate encounter with Gilbert Blythe.

Last night, she texted the girls a "I needed to get home, got my period and felt sick" before storming out of the club, and they'd seemed to believe the lie.

She had been invited to a party that night in Charlottetown, hosted by Josephine Barry, but she had politely declined the invitation. Although she was pretty fond of Diana's aunt — and the feeling was mutual — she couldn't possibly get the energy out of her body to drag her own self there.

Besides, Fred Wright is performing tonight and Gilbert is going to be there too...

but the main reason to decline such an invitation has to do with the fact that she also has something of extreme importance to do today.

She can't wait any longer.

___

Anne misses the opportunity of seeing Fred Wright performing live after a few months. He's played two or three songs on Josephine Barry's summer... soiré, was it called? the boy thinks as he scratches the back of his neck once he's back to the crowd.

A woman in black has taken his spot on stage, playing the harp as he tries to find her lovely girlfriend.

"You're Fred Wright, correct?"

Fred's startled by a presence and a voice behind him. When he turns around he faces a man with grey hair and a suit — he must be around fifty and he looks important, like the kind of guy that would live on an expensive, luxurious mansion.

"Uh, yeah, hi?" the boy asks, confused.

"I'm David Rollins" he simply says. As soon as he notices that the boy doesn't recognize the name, he gives him more information. "I'm from Hawkins Records"

Hawking Records? That's a discography. It's not Apple Studios or EMI but its a prestigious one.

"Oh, um- nice to meet you, uh, sir?"

"I was invited by Miss Barry. Apparently, she promised I'd see some talent tonight"

Talent? Fred feels how the weight of his guitar on his back feels heavier that ever.

"And... did you?"

"I did, Fred Wright"

"Oh"

"I'm assuming you don't have a band?" the man asks.

"I used to, but they left for college so now it's just me"

"Would you be interested in being a solo artist?"

The man's words are intimidating. Fred feels as if he's never been this terrified in his entire life time.

"I'm sorry?"

Fred's silently thankful when Diana Barry comes out of the crowd and stands next to him. Fortunately, she words what he's been trying to say.

"Yes! Yes he would"

The man studies the girl's face with curiosity.

"And... you are...?"

"Diana Barry" The girl looks at her boyfriend, giving him a reassuring look. "Fred Wright's manager"

The producer seems to join the dots between Diana Barry and Josephine Barry. The girls holds her hand out of the man to shake.

"Alright... Wright and Barry, here's my contact card" he says, shaking Fred's hands after Diana's and handing now the girl a very elegant card. "I'll be waiting for your call and perhaps few demos"

And just like that, he leaves.

Fred Wright blinks twice. And three times. And even four times, as if he's trying to wake up from a very lucid and pleasing dream. But its not a dream — it's true. It's happening.

"Di? Did that just... happen?" he asks, just to double check.

The wide smile creeping up Diana's lips confirms it all.

"It did, Fred"

___

After an hour and a half of a very long, exhausting and sincere talk,

Anne leaves Charlie Sloane's house with a weight dropped off her shoulders.

"I'm glad we talked" she says under the light of the porch.

"Me too, Anne"

Anne gives him a faint smile, thanking him for being so understanding.

"I guess... I'll see you around" she says, to which he replies with a polite nod.

Anne lies in bed that night again. Same lying position and same summer pajamas as last night and the night before that one.

Only difference is that this time she actually manages to get some sleep.

It may be her particular lullaby blasting through her Walkman's headphones, or the tranquility of the night, or the fact that she feels relieved, free, and honest for a change.

But everything surrounding her makes her remember the events of that fateful winter evening.

That Christmas break was the beginning of the end.

___

A/N

+7k words! Wow, that was a lot.

Anyway, I hope you liked this chapter!

Please tell me what you think about it.

Theories?

What do you want to see in Chapter 3?