Taylor leans forward and blows onto the sealed lid of a wide cardboard box, a thick cloud of dust shooting into the air around her.

"Thanks for coming over."

"No problem." Taylor looks over at the line of boxes stacked up against the wall in the small bedroom. She turns to Kris. "I was a little confused when you said you needed help unpacking. Haven't you been in Riverside for a while now?"

"A little over a year." Kris opens a box and smiles, seeing one of her old lyric journals. It's more juvenile than her current style, the purple cover graffitied with colorful, girly stickers and coated with a thick layer of gold glitter. It's safe to assume she's been into writing for quite some time. "I guess it's just... before it really didn't feel like this place was home. Felt like another rest stop on my endless destination to nowhere."

"Wow. That's dark."

Kris laughs. "Sorry, you're right. That was a little bit dramatic."

"No, this..." Taylor pulls out a folded up drawing, clearly a young child's work, from a box near the window. It's drawn in crayon, the poorly detailed stick figure split in half with a thick streak of red wax to resemble blood splatters. Black and gray swirls make up dark clouds behind the dismembered person. She holds it up to Kris.

"That was Daniel's." Kris says, slowly reaching over to grab the drawing. She notices the corner is ripped and runs her fingers along the edge of the paper, accidentally getting a paper cut. She ignores it and the blood seeps in to bottom corner of the sheet, blending into the grotesque image perfectly. "He liked his horror movies."

Tucked in the corner of the cardboard box is another stack of old drawings held together by a rusted paper clip. Taylor pulls them out, seeing a framed school picture of Daniel behind them and begins to tear up. She thinks about the bus. The fire. The bicycle.

Kris quickly snatches the drawings from her, snapping Taylor back into reality.

"Can we just—" Kris catches herself, obviously getting upset at the thought of her brother. "Can we just focus on these other boxes? Please."

"Yeah, sure." Taylor glances over at her, realizing she had been prying too much. "I'm sorry."

Shaking her head, Kris walks over to the box to set the papers back in it. She takes out a permanent marker from her pocket and, with her teeth, pulls the lid off. She scribbles 'Fragile' on the side of the box, a suitable name for its contents. After sliding the marker back into her pocket, she folds the lids of it shut and picks it up. "Don't be. He was quite the artist, huh?"

They exchange fake smiles, both masking their true feelings.

"Yeah. He was." Taylor says, watching as Kris carries the box over to her closet. She sets it on the floor, slowly tucking it in the corner of the closet by a laundry hamper.

Kris stands back up, spinning around as her tone shifts completely. "So hey, how would you like to expand your portfolio?"

"I'd love to." Taylor slightly lifts the cardboard flap on another cardboard box, taking a quick peek inside to ensure it's nothing personal this time, before opening it. She turns to Kris. "Why?"

"Jesse and I met up again."

"Really?" Taylor cocks an eyebrow, clearly about to drift off of subject.

Kris' eyes narrow. "Not like that. But yes, we met up. So he pretty much convinced me to do another show this Friday, and he suggested that if I had someone take professional pictures of me on stage it would—"

"Yes." Taylor smiles, answering the question before it could even be asked. "I'll do it. You said on Friday? Like... tomorrow?"

Kris nods, a smile also spreading across her face. "Yes. Thanks!"

"Sure." Taylor reaches into the box full of books and, one by one, begins to put them on the small bookshelf across from the window. "It's about time I wipe that dust off my camera."

A fairly new Voltzwagen Beetle pulls up in front of a large house located in the upper suburbs. The beige soft top covering the convertible compliments the light blue paint perfectly. Paige opens the passenger's door and climbs out of the car, looking over at Kira who sits in the driver's seat.

"Thanks for the ride." She mutters as she leans inside to grab her backpack from the back seat. The small cut on her bottom lip is nearly healed, now just a barely noticeable thin purple scab.

"Wow." Kira acts surprised. "Never thought that word was in your vocabulary!"

"What word?"

"Thanks."

Paige rolls her eyes as she pulls one arm through the strap of her backpack and slings it over her shoulder. "Look, I'm really not in the mood to argue. Especially with a dimwit like you."

"I may be a dimwit at times, but it doesn't take much of an IQ to know that this isn't your house." Kira sighs, running her fingers through her curled blonde ponytail that's draped over her shoulder. "I used to ride the bus with you in middle school, remember? I've seen where it dropped you off."

Paige glances at the house, then turns back to glare at Kira. She bites her tongue.

"Can I be honest?" Kira looks at Paige, taking her silence as a cue to continue. "You're a bit of a bitch."

"Oh, you little—"

"But I like you." Kira smiles innocently. "I know deep down, inside that cold shell is a good person. You're just scared to show it."

Paige shakes her head as she slams the car door shut. They talk through the rolled down windows. "You don't know anything about me."

"Really?" Kira's eyebrows rise. "I know you still like your ex, but you swear up and down it's a blessing you two broke up. I know you don't have much money, but you parade around like your family owns the world. I know you're upset with Casey, even though you know the fight was your fault."

"Are you done?" Paige snarls, still glaring at her.

Kira shrugs and turns back to the steering wheel, her way of raising the white flag to surrender.

Paige turns around, as if about to walk up the sidewalk to the stranger's house, and halts.

"I know you have a heart."

She turns around to look at Kira, who continues talking.

"And, what can I say? That makes me kinda curious. Maybe I want to know even more."

Instead of responding, Paige stands there staring at her as she plays with the strap of her backpack. She doesn't really know what to say or how to react. Should she be flattered or defensive?

Kira turns back to the windshield. "Well, I guess I'll get going. Have a safe walk home."

"Thanks." Paige smirks as she says the word mockingly, but more playful than rude, and Kira can't help but smile.

Shifting the car's gear into drive, Kira spins the steering wheel as she pulls away from the sidewalk.

Paige watches as the Beetle drives down the street before the road winds around a corner and out of sight. She turns, eyeing the house to her right one more time, before walking down the sidewalk toward her real neighborhood. She has a few blocks to go.

♫ ʜᴀʀᴅᴇsᴛ ᴘᴀʀᴛ / ʟᴀᴜʀᴀ ᴡᴀʟsʜ ғᴛ. ᴊᴏʜɴ ʟᴇɢᴇɴᴅ ♫