"The house doesn't look that bad inside as it does from the outside", I mumble to myself as I absorb the inside of this wooden house though it's small and kinda empty still manages to hold some kind of warmth.

"It doesn....", Stella tries to say, but the sneezing stops her. Myles turns to her quickly to look at her, worry immediately covering his freckled face.

"Are you okay?" Within mere a second, he is next to her, his hands prepared to catch her centimeters from her bare arms, scared to touch her and tempt her. Is he a vampire, now? How fast can he appear next to her?

"I a...", she sneezes again.

"Are you cold?", he asks, his eyes scanning the place for something to cover her body, but doesn't find anything.

"No, I'm not. I'm okay. Don't worry", she tries to assure him when she is sure that her attack of sneezing has stopped.

"You have my sweater in the bag, Elen packed it. Did you bring the bag?" I turn to Myles and he nods.

"We did."

"It is the only thing I have from clothes, anyway. How could we leave it?" Stella shrugs, crossing her arms against her chest. "Though I don't actually like your clothes, but they do suit me, which is what matters now", she complains, scratching her nose and rubbing her eyes.

I notice how red they are, probably from crying. I wish they could stop holding that color and leave the space for the green one to shine as brightest as it can. They are so beautiful, but always bloodshot, so they can never shine, the way they deserve to, no, they can only glimpse because of the tears they hold, but not even the tears of joy, but of sadness. So much sadness.

"And why exactly you don't like them?" I sit on the wooden chair and she places her butt on the yellow couch. Myles on the other hand goes to the small bathroom that I see has an only toilet and a sink, before he closes the door and the sound of water running is all we can hear as we continue sitting in the silence for what feels like minutes.

"They are too bright", she scrunches her nose. "Everything you put in is either pink or navy blue. Do you even", she shakes her head and sighs, placing her hand on her back, "own any other color?"

"I do", I breathe out, "and so? I mean what is wrong with that?'

"So, I don't like it." My best friend shrugs, her upper lips twitching. "I hate those colors."

"No, you only love black, sorry, I forgot", I tease her, and raise my arms in defense, laughing, but she frowns and I wonder if I made her angry. "I was joking", I add to make sure we are okay.

"Fine." She shrugs again, playing with her finger nervously.

Myles gets out of the bathroom and his gaze falls on us, wondering what is going on and why we are acting like enemies and not friends. I nod in his direction, trying to assure him that everything is alright.

"I'm sorry", Stella's whisper-sob breaks the silence and stops the ginger boy from saying something he was preparing to, whose lips are still parted, cut off before the words could leave his mouth.

"What the hell are you sorry for?"

"For not telling you that we had escaped. I know that you are angry with me." her head is still bowed and she is literally mumbling in her chin, yet I understand every word that leaves he mouth.

"I'm not angry with you." I get up and shift myself to the couch and separate her nervous hands from each other. "I can never be angry with you. It's okay."

Her eyes snap to mine, her chin trembling, while she is biting her lower lip hard, and her expression is holding sadness and sorry.

"Yeah, but I neglected you. You were supposed to be the only one who should have known for our plan, yet...", she trails off, moving her gaze to the floor, concentrating not to let the evil tears ruin her beautiful and clear skin.

"Shh, that doesn't matter. It matters that I'm here now, right?" I take her chin and lift it with my fingers, holding it so she is looking straight at me.

"B-but you must have been worried... Have you gone to the hospital?"

I have. And I have spat in the face of your foster dad. But no biggie.

I glance at Myes who is pouring water in one of two glasses that are offered. He catches my gaze and it lingers on my face as I try to do my best to lie and not give away anything.

"I... I...." I try to ask Myles to help me by widening my eyes but he just drinks water slowly, not breaking eye contact. Nothing from him, I guess, so I turn my gaze back to Stella. "I didn't. I was sleeping. Yeah, I was sleeping and when Myles called me I came. That's it. I was... I was planning to go to the hospital later."

"Oh", is all she says and I guess that she has bought my terrible lie.

"Is anyone hungry?", Myles chimes in and makes us both glance over at him as he claps his hands. "I had bought some groceries before I picked Chloe up."

"Oh, no, thank you, I have eaten", I refuse politely, waving my hand through the air, and beam at him.

"But you've just said that Myles woke you up?" Stella looks at me, puzzled. "When did you find time for eating?"

"Oh, I meant, that... I wasn't that hungry... But I can keep you company while you eat", I smile, trying my best to cover my almost revealed lie.

"No, I'm not hungry."

"Are you sick?" The question comes from my mouth before I can think.

"Why would I be sick?" She frowns.

"I don't know", I shrug. "When people can't eat they are usually sick. So, I assumed that maybe you were sick as well", I blurt.

"No, I'm not." She shakes her head. Just not hungry", she mumbles and Myles and I exchange looks.

His says: see, I told you that she is sick because she doesn't eat.

Mine on the other hand says nothing because I am clearly too dumb to hold a simple secret.

"C'mon, Stella!", Myles exclaims. "I have everything to make pancakes"

"Pancakes!" I clap excitedly. "I love pancakes!"

"Well, I'm not a fan of pancakes", Stella ruins my excitement with her moody remark.

"How can you not be?" I turn to her, frowning, offended.

"Okay, I can make something else", the ginger boy who cried on my chest mere minutes ago suggests, and before I turn my gaze back to Stella, she gets up and goes to the other room I haven't even noticed existed.

"What is wrong?" Myles approaches me and whispers in my ear and I notice how he lowered himself because I'm smaller than him.

"Nothing, don't worry immediately. Go take those groceries and I will try to cheer her up", I suggest to him and beam and he tilts his head, hesitating but eventually leaves. I wait until he closes the door and I enter the small room while walks that is so bright.

The light is coming from the small window. It has only one bed with white clean sheets and Stella has wrinkled them when she placed her butt on it. Her body is rolled on it, her face turned to the wall, and her back to me. I stay at the frame without a door and absorb the room.

When I finish taking in the smallest room I've ever seen I sit on the edge of the bed. My gaze falls on the bag where Elen put my clothes and I catch a notebook peeking from it. I don't remember packing any notebooks. But I wasn't the one who packed it. It was Elen. I just gave her some clothes I thought would fit my best friend. Maybe she decided to put the notebook herself, who knows?

I tilt my head, trying to see what is that on the white paper, narrowing my eyes to study it. It's like a head.... a drawn head... and those eyes, they remind me of someone. Michael? Is that Michael? Before I move closer to the bag and take the notebook, Stella's eyes catch the direction I'm looking at and she gets up from the bed, rushing to zip the bag and hide the notebook from me. But why? Just then I realize that she has caught me staring.

"You draw?", I ask the obvious, pointing at the black, no zipped bag.

"No, I don't", she hisses, pulling her knees to her chest.

"But that was drawn."

"No... I mean, maybe I don't know. It was already in the notebook. It wasn't me who drew it."

"Stella, why do you always lie to me?" I tilt my head, my expression holding some kind of sadness because I can't take her lies anymore. It's not anger, just despair, I swear.

"I don't lie, what are you talking about?" She frowns. "And you have already said that you aren't mad because of a hospital...

"You are", I cut her off. "Why would Elen put a notebook that isn't empty, but filled with someone else's drawings?"

"I don't know!"

"It's Michael! That's Michael! Why are you so embarrassed to admit it? It is nothing wrong to draw him. You miss him and draw him, that is okay. I was just surprised that you drew and I didn't know that", I admit, lowering my voice.

"I don't draw!" She lifts her upper body and screams in my face. "Why can't you let it go already? I don't draw! I won't ever draw! I can't draw because every time I do I dee her...", her voice breaks and she covers her mouth not to let a sob escape it.

"Her?" I knit my brows, confused. "Who is she?"

"No one." My upset friend sniffles and buries her head in the pillow.

"C'mon, Stella. Please, stop hiding from me. Have you not learned that I won't hurt you? I know nothing about you", I state, shrugging. "I just want to know something about a girl I call my best friend. What she likes, what are her hobbies, her favorite food, hm?" I smile and jerk her shoulder gently.

"I don't have any hobbies. And the thing you asked me about isn't good and I don't want to talk about it right now", she murmurs in the wall.

"Okay..."

We sit in silence and only Stella's shallow breathing keeps breaking it as well as my nervous and frustrated sighs. I notice through the frame which gives a good look at the other room that Myles came back with groceries and I gestured for him to start making breakfast.

"C'mon, Stella. Let's eat." I jerk her again, but she doesn't respond. "Stellaaaa!", I drag the last letter of her name.

"I can't, I want to stay here", she mumbles.

I sigh again and decide to lay next to her, stretching my legs on the small bed.

"Move a little bit", I tell her, nudging her elbow that it hurting my tits when she looks at me with a puzzled expression. She lays on the back just like I do. We stare at the ceiling in the silence, the only sound coming from the oil that is chirping in the living room where Myles is preparing pancakes.

"You know", I look over at her, while she senses my gaze, keeps hers focused on the ceiling, "I like to sing."

"Sing?" Stella's mouth falls open and I feel her breathing in my ear when I turn my head back to the ceiling. This bed is too fucking small.

"Yeah, sing. When I was young I used to pretend that I was at my concert, performing while the audience would be cheering for me, screaming my name from the top of their lungs. I would use a remote or a toothbrush as a microphone", I chuckle at the memory.

"And when I grew up I imagined that I was having interviews where I would talk about abusive people and violence. That I would do so many companies to stop it and donate money as if that would help", I chuckle again. "So, whenever he went to sleep after leaving me naked and hurt I would just imagine that my fans are there waiting for me to pick up myself and make a hit for them and not just stay there laying in the puddle of my sweat mixed with tears and let them all down."

Her fingers caress my cheek and when she wipes off something I realize that was an actual tear.

"Don't cry", she whispers and places her head on my chest and I put my hand on her greasy hair, fondling it.

"I didn't wash it for God knows how long", she says as if she can read my mind.

"No, I don't care."

"Chloe?"

"Hm?"

"What happened to your mom?"

The question lingers in the air for a while before I collect myself and decide how exactly to tell her about it.

"She died."

My emotional friend lifts her head so she can look at my eyes. "Mine as well. You don't have to say how yours died, because I'm not sure if I will be able to tell you about mine."

"It's okay, you don't have to." I fondle her hair, twirling her long strands around my fingers. She doesn't say anything, so I guess she doesn't mind it. I sigh before I start the story of my mom's death.

"One day dad, as usual, went to work and he told me he would pick me up from school. I was young then, seven years old. Mom hugged me and told me to behave well, but I wasn't aware that was the last time that I saw her. She was working at the hospital, she was, um... a nurse. But that day a gang entered the hospital and they took hostages in order to gain information about where some girl whom they were looking for was. Mom was in the other part of the hospital, so she didn't know that they were there, and when she came back she finally realized what was going on

She knew exactly who was the girl the gang was looking for. So, she rushed to her room carefully not to catch her and helped her get dressed and get away before they come for her. But before they had left the hospital the gang members found them. Mom didn't want to give them the girl, and she told them that they would take her over her dead body. And they did. They shot her."

Stella gasps and moves her head from my chest and it appears next to my face, so she can stare at me.

"That's... so sad." I just shake my head. "How do you know all of this? I mean..."

"She told me", I cut her off, knowing what she doesn't understand. "The girl who was kidnapping." The eyes of my best friend widen as she parts her lips at the same time. "That case was really popular and the police tried so hard to catch the gang and save the girl since she was a daughter of a very known businessman. So when they found her, the trial was so popular that all the journalists were there, expecting the sentence. Among them was me. I knew that she was the reason mom died and I wanted to look into her eyes and see why she let them take my mom.

Of course, my seven-year-old ass couldn't understand that she wasn't the one who took her, but those evil men. It's always men, right?", I chuckle and catch Stella's lips curling in a weak smile. "And when I started screaming at her, pulling her hair, the guards stopped me, and of course that she was hidden behind tons of bodyguards but I was, still and", I chuckle, "small, so I managed to get to her invisibly. But when I said whose daughter I was she told them to let me go and told me the whole story.

She was sixteen at the time and I was seven. She experienced hell and when I grew up and started being abused I would remember her and tried to be strong just like she was. She managed to get out of that. Alive. Those idiots were sentenced and she was again in the arms of her dad. But I wasn't in my mom's arms. And my dad started harassing me so no matter how much I wanted to see her as an idol, but I instead saw her as a reason which took everything from me, which ruined my life that was perfect. Maybe if my mom didn't try to save her, she would still be here and dad wouldn't abuse me. But..."

I hear some faint sound coming from my bestie. When I look at her, I realize that her head was again on my chest and the sound she was making was coming from her parted lips and it was known as snorting. She fell asleep.

I smile and caress her greasy hair, moving it from her forehead. I mean who can fall asleep while listening to this kind of story, but I guess that she is just so tired since she always cries and my low voice and caressing her hair just made her fall asleep, silencing the voices she has in her head, the one coming from her demons who are trying to hurt her. But I won't let 'em.

I wipe my tears and kiss her head gently, placing it softly on her greasy hair that still has a scent of chlorin from the day when she fell in the pool. I will finish this story another day, she can rest now, that is the most important.

But it felt good relieving the wounds of the past to my best friend. I know you may think how is she your best friend when you know barely anything about her? See, I don't need to know the whole mystery of her since her birth, and I don't even need to know what she liked to do. Sometimes, it's enough to know someone's darkest secret, and that eventually makes you friends. And that is what Stella and I are. It's what connects us- a secret. Now, it's not a secret anymore, but once it was, and though it still matters. Now what we have to do is figure out other things about each other, including what we love doing, what are our hobbies, and also, what we hate, but that can easily be found out. I bet that we are going to know plenty of things about each other once she realizes that she can tell me everything.

And that is the reason why I entrusted her with this, though I started talking about my hobby. I really hope when she sees that I believe her unconditionally that she is going to tell me what she likes to do because that obviously has something to do with what had happened to her and then she had been stopped from doing it with the same passion she once had.

"Hey, I...."

"Shhhhhh!", I shush Myles, quickly when he appears at the frame with no doors, leaning on it, and his biceps threaten to rip his shirt with short sleeves. "She fell asleep", I exclaim, whispering.

"Oh." His face falls on Stella whose are probably closed, but I can't see it, since she is still laying on my chest, and if I move I'm scared that I will wake her up.

Not only one, but two persons have put their heads on my chest today. And both of them are longing for a person to hug them back and solace them. I'm happy that they seem to have found the solace in me and I hope that I managed to make them a little bit better. Because I do feel better, knowing that I'm able of comforting someone when indeed I as well a solace or a hug from someone.

"I was wondering if you could help me", the ginger boy with freckles says with a low voice and I try to get up from the bed and not wake up the sleeping beauty with pink hair. She looks so peaceful when she is sleeping, almost as she hasn't gone through all those things and if you look at her while her eyes are closed like they are right now, you would never guess that she is the same person with the bloodshot eyes when they are open, which can make you feel so sorry for her, which she hates.

I place her head on the pillow and Myles gestures for me to move so he can spread the blanket and cover her body dressed in my clothes. I make a mental note to bring her more clothes and some casual ones and pajamas so she doesn't have to sleep in jeans.

"I will, I will, I got it", he whispers, when I pull the blanket to cover her legs. He tugs it softly, glancing each second at his sleeping beauty to see if she is still asleep. I manage to catch his smile, when he covers her completely, moving the hair off her face, and caressing her cheek. He also leans to her forehead but stops, when he remembers my presence. He turns his head to me, his lips parted, and I smile sheepishly trying to make me look invisible.

"What did you help wi... Myles", I yell when I see the pan of fire and the smoke spreading through the living room.

"Ups, I forgot to turn off the burner", he speaks behind me as I rush to stop the fire and smoke, by punching the pan with the rag. When I finally stop it, I sigh and turn to him.

"Is this your way of making breakfast?"

"Um... I am sorry... I am not that great in the kitchen", he stammers, scratching his neck nervously, averting his brown eyes from me.

"You could have said that first. I would have made it. Okay let's just get rid of these black pancakes first, and I will make a new one", I suggest and he nods, agreeing since he doesn't really have a choice.

A/N

To see more of Myles and Chloe's baking read the next chapter once it's uploaded.