Commotion can be heard from the hallway as students, and even some teachers, gossip and frantically roam the corridors. Class should have started five minutes ago, but everyone is in a state of panic. With good reason.

Marc sits quietly in an empty classroom, using one of the desktops on the last row of tables near the back. It has fewer desks and chairs than the other classrooms would have, but that's because it's not used for a class. The newspaper staff claimed the vacant room and converted it into a workshop for the school paper a couple of years ago. The dry erase board is cluttered with ideas for articles, stories to look into, and random doodles. A bulletin board is set up on the wall next to it and pinned to it are several newspaper clippings and photographs.

On the computer screen, Marc goes through a collection of Facebook pictures of him and Taylor and stops at one of them kissing in his car. He stares at it, running his finger along the screen.

The voices intensify, growing suddenly louder, and he peers up from the screen to see the door opening as somebody walks into the room. He quickly moves the cursor to minimize the picture and an article he was working on earlier pops up.

"Hey." Melissa Martinez, also known as Mel or Millie, smiles as she steps into the room. She has short, curly dark brown hair and has a well toned body, despite having a curved figure. She lets the door close behind her, the voices drowning out.

Sighing, Marc rubs at the heavy bags under his eyes as he stretches back in his chair. "Hey."

"They're still out there. My dad is trying to push the press back as far as possible." Millie pauses. "I just—I didn't even know her."

"I know." He lets his arms rest near the keyboard. "I can't believe it happened either."

Millie reaches up to pull her hair back behind her ears. Something she does when she's upset or nervous. "I feel bad."

"Why?"

"Writing about stuff like this." She uses the tabletop of the desk in front of Marc as a seat, sitting down to face him. Her legs sway in the air, just inches from touching the floor. "I mean, this was someone's life. And we're using it as, what, a headline for the school's paper? That doesn't just bother you? It's killing me."

He raises an eyebrow, immediately understanding where she's coming from. He has a well tuned moral compass of his own and, when he first decided to join the newspaper staff, it would bother him just to write the smallest articles that would slightly pry into someone's life. If there's something that he and Millie have in common, it would definitely be their ethics. "We're bringing awareness to the students."

Muffled hollering echoes through the hallway as a group of students, yelling crazily, run down past the door. Millie turns her head to glance at the door. "Seems like they're doing fine with that on their own."

Marc shakes his head. "No, that's attention. We bring awareness. We give people the details and knowledge it takes to form a real perception of what's going on. Not just to notice it, but to actually see what they often would ignore." He pauses and sits back down. "Sorry, I've been up all night. Does that even make sense?"

"You're making perfect sense." She nods, flashing him one of her trademark Millie oh-so-innocent smiles. "You'd make a great reporter, ya know? Way better than those scavengers lurking outside right now."

"Thanks." He plays with a pen he had fetched from the table, twisting it with frenzy in his fingers.

"Is... something else bothering you?"

"No. Not at all." He is obviously not very good at disguising a lie. "I had a lot to research last night. About the accident. And now, what happened today..."

"Oh, I see. It just looks like something is on your mind." She cocks an eyebrow and pretends like she is about to lift herself up on the table, back to the floor. "But I mean, if you're okay..."

He sighs. "Okay. We broke up."

"Wait. What?"

"Taylor and I. We broke up." He gulps. Saying the words out loud for the first time is like a hard slap of reality to the face. "Well she broke up with me, and I don't know exactly why. She just showed up at my door and told me that it's over. That she doesn't love me anymore. And I could tell she didn't mean it. She couldn't mean it. But why would she say that?"

Shrugging, Millie turns to face the wall. "I don't know."

"Oh come on, Millie. Help me out." He pleads, tossing the pen back onto the desk as he stares at her. "I know you two used to be close friends."

"Yeah, like years ago. That was back in middle school."

"Please. I just want—need to know what's going on with her."

"Okay, fine." Irritated, she turns back to face him. She hates being the encyclopedia of Taylor Chase. "Here's the thing about Taylor. From what I remember anyway. She was, and still is actually, one of the strongest people I know. She would do anything to protect her friends and you. Maybe she really did realize that she wasn't in love with you and didn't want to lead you on? I'm not really sure. I haven't talked to her, at least not a real conversation, in forever. But whatever she said to you, I'm sure she did it with good intentions."

Marc focuses back on the computer monitor, the paragraphs in the word document begin to jumble into an immense collection of shuffled words. He focuses on the words 'bus' and 'accident'. Then 'death'. Nothing makes sense right now. He needs sleep. He needs Taylor.

He glances back up at Millie. "But how can ending the best thing that we had... Tell me, how could that come from good intentions?"

"Attention all students. For the remainder of the day, all classes have been cancelled." The principal's stern voice loudly interrupts from the intercom mounted onto the ceiling of the small room. "Please exit the school in a quiet and orderly fashion. Classes will resume at regular time tomorrow morning."

Commotion grows louder, taking a different direction as students this time cheer as they rush through the halls.

♫ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛʙʀᴏᴋᴇ / ᴡᴀᴋᴇʏ!ᴡᴀᴋᴇʏ! ♫