⚔️ BROADS AND BROADSWORDS VOLUME 3 PREORDERS ARE NOW OPEN! ⚔️
Broads and Broadswords is a charity zine and a celebration of varied women, varied genders, and the swords and blades that love them. This zine collects 80 pages of original color illustrations and comics made entirely by 60+ independent artists-- and no AI at all--in a perfect bound book, available in both digital and print format. All proceeds from the Broads and Broadswords zine will be split between the Transgender Law Center and Point of Pride.
By reblogging this post you are also a part of our GIVEAWAY! Two winners will be drawn at the end of the pre-order period and one winner will receive a free copy of the Volume 3 digital zine, the other will receive a free copy of the Volume 3 physical zine. (If you win the giveaway but already purchased the zine, you will be refunded in full.) You can only reblog once a day, but the more reblogs, the better your odds, so keep at it!
Pricing details and shipping costs below the cut ⚔️
Pricing:
Digital copy of Volume 3: $9 USD
Physical copy of Volume 3 (includes digital): $25 USD plus shipping and handling
Physical copy of Volume 3 (includes digital) + cover art postcards: $27 USD plus shipping and handling
Physical Copy of Volume 3 (includes digital) + damaged* copy of Volume 1 + cover art postcards : $29 USD plus shipping and holding
Physical Copy of Volume 3 (includes digital) + copy of Volume 2 + cover art postcards: $35 USD plus shipping and handling
Physical Copy of Volume 3 (includes digital) + damaged* copy of Volume 1 + copy of Volume 2 + cover art postcards: $37 USD plus shipping and handling
*Damaged Volume 1 copies are available due to an issue with the bindings during the Volume 1 printing.
**You will NOT receive a digital copy of Volumes 1 or 2.
Shipping:
United States:
$5 USD for the first individual physical copy plus $2 for each additional physical copy purchased
$7 USD for a bundle of 2 books (V3+V1 or V3+V2) plus $7 for each additional bundle of 2 books
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International:
$20 USD for the first physical copy plus $5 for each additional physical copy purchased
$25 USD for a bundle of 2 books (V3+V1 or V3+V2) plus $25 for each additional bundle of 2 books
$30 USD for a bundle of 3 books (V3+V2+V1) plus $30 for each additional bundle of 3 books
you can download current and past hi-res versions of these over at my ko-fi (ok to print for personal use): https://ko-fi.com/mxmorgan/shop/freedownloads
you can also snag shirts here which go to various orgs: https://mxmorgan.threadless.com/collections/pride
these get reposted a whole lot from here to reddit to twitter to tiktok and on and on, and i don't personally care whether or not i'm credited. i made these for everyone to use, enjoy, and find meaning in them. i appreciate folks who do credit me, but if able, please at least link to the threadless shop in the previous post - folks can get an official shirt where 90% of earnings go to trans led orgs focused on mental health (which is an important matter in general, but very personal to me) and not from a scam bot site selling AI-churned maga garbage where you probably won't get one anyway. i also suggest downloading the files from my ko-fi - they are free/PWYW and you can use them to make your own shirt, patch, embroidery project, whatever. tips are always nice, cuz i do like a pizza now and then, but never required for download.
final thought - breaking the pride tradition and more than likely won't make a new piece. the top one from TDOV is all i'm making this year. i have my focus on other projects currently and i don't want to force a poster design. these came from a specific head space and my current head space is Very Tired lmao so i wanna work on other things. 👍
Here is the next part to my Polytrix x Reader Fic, We're a Team, Maybe More.
The girls are recovering and Y/N is starting to realize that maybe, she isn't seeing things the way they should be. Misunderstandings happen and plunges the team into turmoil
This one brings back my favorite thing...angst. Enjoy!
Warnings: Language, Bullying, Self Doubt, Misunderstandings, References to Childhood Neglect/Abuse, References to Physical/Mental Torture, slight violence
Rumi sat with her head low, staring at her hands. At the patterns along her skin. She’d shown them. She’d shown them what she really was. It’d been roughly 24 hours since the whole ordeal happened. Zoey was still asleep and Y/N was keeping watch. Mira went in and out of the room, checking on their youngest member. They were all worried. Stressed that she wouldn’t wake up. Rumi clenched her hands tightly, feeling her nails bite into her skin. She should’ve done more. Even with her power, she’d been too slow.
Gentle hands found her own and she glanced up, seeing Mira kneeling in front of her. Her girlfriend gave her a soft smile as she pried her hands apart.
“You’re hurting yourself,” Mira murmured. Rumi shook her head and averted her gaze. She was, but that was the only thing she could control right now. “Can we talk?”
Rumi’s head shot up and she looked at Mira in alarm. Those words didn’t sound good. Mira’s eyes widened and she shook her head, bringing Rumi’s hands to her lips.
“Not like that, jagiya. Not like that,” Mira quickly explained. Rumi shakily sighed and Mira stood before sitting next to her on the bed. “You hid yourself.”
“Yeah.”
“To protect us?”
“Yeah. I-I was scared I’d lose control…like I did with Eomeoni.”
Mira ran her fingers along her knuckles. “The incident that made Celine quit…that was you?”
Rumi nodded and squeezed her eyes shut. “I didn’t mean to hurt her. I let my emotions get to me and I lost control. Eomma assured me it wasn’t my fault, but it was. I hurt her.”
“So, you wear that ring to hurt yourself?” Mira asked. Rumi flinched and glanced to her nightstand. The ring caught the light, reminding her of its presence.
“It wasn’t intentional. I thought it’d just mask my power,” Rumi answered. She looked down at her hands, seeing the dark, swirling purple. “I hate these patterns. They…they remind me of how dangerous I am.”
Mira remained quiet as she continued to run her fingers along Rumi’s knuckles. Rumi couldn’t tell if she was mad at her. Couldn’t tell what she was thinking.
“Are you…are you mad at me?”
“Yes,” Mira answered. Rumi squeezed her eyes shut, feeling the ache in her chest. Damnit. “I’m mad at you, but I’m more…hurt by you lying.”
“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“You still did. But I understand why. I’m more upset by the fact that you were hurting yourself than anything else,” Mira spoke. Her hand cupped her face, lifting it. Watery brown eyes stared back at her. “I don’t like you being hurt, Rumi.”
“I’d rather be hurting than ever hurting you.”
“You don’t know that you’ll hurt me. You did so when you were younger. That’s not something you can change or control. But now? Now, we can work on that. I’ll help you learn to trust yourself…”
“I hear a but there.”
“But you don’t get to keep hiding things and hurting yourself.”
Mira leaned forward, resting her forehead against her own. “You don’t have to do this alone.”
“I-I’m sorry,” Rumi stammered. Mira pulled her closer, hugging her tightly.
“It’s okay. I should apologize too. I got mad at you for keeping a secret, but yelling at you wasn’t right. Questioning you wasn’t right. I should’ve just trusted you or gone about it differently,” Mira spoke. She kissed her nose before leaning back. “I’m also sorry for falling for Chi’s taunting. You wouldn’t have had to deal with this had I just listened.”
Rumi gave her a shaky smile. “I guess we both need to work on communicating.”
“I guess so,” Mira wetly chuckled. Rumi leaned forward and kissed her. It was a soft kiss that she felt Mira smile into. A loving one that made them melt. Mira pulled away with a hum. “Did you know your patterns glow?”
“What?” Rumi questioned, looking down at her hands. They were indeed glowing. They were gold. She blushed and covered her eyes with a groan. “Why?”
“Huh, pink is embarrassed. Noted.”
“Mira!”
“What? I’m just making an observation,” Mira chuckled. Rumi pouted and lowered her hands, seeing the amusement on her girlfriend’s face. “Can you promise me something?”
“What?”
“Can you try to wear that ring less? I know that you might not stop completely, but can you at least give yourself a break from it?”
“…I’ll try.”
“Okay,” Mira smiled. She stood and held out her hand. “Want to check on Zoey with me?”
Rumi nodded and took Mira’s hand. She pulled her to her feet and the two of them headed for Zoey’s. A sharp pinch to her butt made her yelp. “Hey!”
“Yup, embarrassed. Just had to make sure.”
“I-you-why?!”
“I just wanted to double check,” Mira hummed. She leaned in close, whispering into her ear.
“For the record, I think you look very sexy with the patterns. I bet you look even sexier without any clothes on.”
Rumi’s face heated and her patterns glowed brighter. “Stop that!”
Mira chuckled and knocked on the door. They heard Y/N say enter and they opened it. The woman was sitting on a chair next to the bed, strategically placed between the door and Zoey.
“How is she?”
“Still asleep. She did mumble something about an octopus though.”
“Did you learn something?”
“Apparently, octopuses have three hearts,” Y/N shrugged. She leaned back in her chair, rubbing at her leg. There was still damage from being in the water and then in the cold. Rumi had called her mom, and she’d stated that she’d come visit later today. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?” Rumi asked. Y/N glanced at them with a glare. Right. Rumi sighed while Mira moved to the woman’s side. She carefully lifted the edge of Y/N’s shorts, revealing the irritated skin.
“Can you remove this?” Mira asked.
“I have no idea how,” Y/N answered. Rumi made a mental note to ask her mom how to remove the leg. Mira nodded and went to the bed, adjusting the blankets around Zoey. “She keeps flailing around and kicking the blankets off.”
“She needs to keep them on. Being out in the cold like that and using all her magic will make her sick.”
“You try telling her that,” Y/N grumbled. Mira smiled and Rumi went to her side, grabbing a blanket from the dresser. She draped it over Y/N’s shoulders and pulled it tight around her.
“You need to rest.”
“Once Zoey wakes up.”
“She could be out for an hour, maybe even another day. It just depends on how she feels,” Rumi argued. She cupped Y/N’s face, making her meet her gaze. Her Y/E/C eyes were so tired. She could see the fatigue in her entire body. “Rest. I’ll wake you up the second Zoey does.”
“…okay,” Y/N relented. She went to sit on the floor, and Mira stopped her with a gentle hand on her shoulder.
“You are not sleeping on the floor.”
“But—”
“Get your ass on the bed. It’s big enough for the two of you,” Mira interrupted. Y/N huffed and allowed Mira to pull her onto the bed. She reluctantly lied next to Zoey, keeping herself at an arm’s length. Her body was tense as she stared at Zoey’s sleeping face. Mira reached down, carding her fingers through the woman’s hair. Y/N let out a content sigh. “Sleep. We’ll wake you up when Zoey does.”
Y/N’s body slowly relaxed and Rumi made sure she was tucked in. The woman’s breathing quickly deepened as she fell asleep.
“That didn’t take long,” Mira pointed out.
“That’s because you’re giving her a head massage,” Rumi teased. Mira half-heartedly glared at her as she continued to run her fingers through Y/N’s hair. “You aren’t doing a good job at denying those cinnamon roll comments.”
“I will kick you off the bed,” Mira deadpanned. Rumi chuckled and went to sit on the other side of Zoey. The maknae scooted closer to her, hand blindly reaching out. Rumi gently took it and ran her thumb along her knuckles. “I hate to say it, but they’re cute right now.”
“That’s creepy, Mir.”
“Oh, fuck off.”
Rumi stuck her tongue out at her before lying down beside Zoey. “Have I ever told you how much I like our big bed?”
“Almost every day,” Mira groaned. She didn’t move from her spot, but her own posture relaxed. Rumi was glad that she was comfortable enough to relax. “You can sleep if you want.”
“I’m not tired,” Rumi yawned. Mira raised an eyebrow at her, making her grumble. “Wake me up in thirty minutes.”
“Okay.”
Rumi ran through the trees, chasing her target. She knew what she needed to do. She knew how she needed to do it. Her body thrummed with power as she ran. She’d never felt this power in her body. She’d always felt weak. Her target was only a few feet in front of her and she growled, claws extending as she did. They were right there and she was going to catch them. She lunged, colliding solidly with the person before them. Her claws tore into soft flesh, eliciting a cry of pain from them. She frowned at the familiarity to that cry. She stared down at her target, eyes widening as she did. Mira. Her girlfriend was gasping for breath, wheezing and failing to fill her lungs. How could she? Her throat was torn out. Her chest too. Mira gaped at her and Rumi frantically tried to stop the bleeding.
“You killed her,” Zoey accused. Rumi twirled, seeing the maknae standing behind her. She had a bleeding chest wound, face ashen as she glared at her. Y/N lied dead at her feet, blood pooling beneath her. “Like you killed us.”
Rumi woke with a gasp, shooting up to clutch her chest. Her heart was beating erratically while her chest seemed to constrict. She couldn’t breathe! Hands found her face, forcing her to turn. Mira firmly held her, eyes swimming with worry. Her mouth moved, but Rumi couldn’t figure out what she was saying. She shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut. It hurt to breath. Everything hurt. A hand pressed against her own, pushing harder against her chest. She glanced down, seeing the bits of scales there. Y/N. She took an exaggerated breath and Rumi frowned at her. Y/N huffed and did it again. Mira copied and took Rumi’s free hand, placing it against her own chest. She felt her chest expand, then retract with her large breaths. Rumi took the hint and copied their breathing. She breathed deeply into Y/N’s hand in sync with Mira. The tightness in her chest started to loosen and it became easier for her to hear.
“You’re alright, jagiya. Breathe with us,” Mira calmly spoke. Rumi leaned forward, resting her forehead against Mira’s shoulder. Her girlfriend gently scratched the back of her neck, making her shiver. “I’ve got you.”
“S-sorry.”
“Don’t you dare apologize,” Mira countered. Rumi closed her eyes, feeling guilty about the entire ordeal. She’d woken Y/N. Made Mira worried. That wasn’t fair to either of them. “Did you have a nightmare?”
Rumi nodded in response.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Rumi shook her head and opened her eyes once more, seeing the glow to her hands. The patterns along her skin were glowing a dark purple. Great. Y/N retracted her hand and got off the bed.
“I’ll get you some water.”
“Thank you,” Rumi thanked. Y/N headed out and Rumi took that chance to wrap her arms around Mira’s waist. She buried her face against her chest, crying softly against her.
“Was it that bad of a nightmare?”
“T-terrible.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?”
“Not now. Later?” Rumi mumbled. Mira kissed the top of her head with a hum.
“Later,” Mira affirmed. Rumi heard shuffling from the bed, and she quickly wiped her tears away. “Hey, Zoey. How’re you feeling?”
“Tired,” Zoey grumbled.
“Understandable. You used a lot of mana,” Mira nodded. Zoey yawned and Rumi turned, seeing her rubbing at her eyes.
“How long was I asleep?”
“About 24 hours.”
“Oh…have you been sitting here the whole time?”
“We have. Y/N too. She stepped out to get me water,” Rumi answered. Speaking of. Y/N walked into the room and her eyes landed on Zoey.
“You’re up!” Y/N beamed. Wow. That was a blinding smile. Y/N went straight to the bed and pressed the back of her hand against Zoey’s forehead. “You don’t feel hot. So, no sickness from using too much mana.”
“You act like I would be dumb enough to get sick.”
“Not dumb. Selfless? Yes,” Y/N hummed.
“More like stubborn,” Mira grumbled. Rumi chuckled at the wide-eyed look Zoey gave her. “What? I’m not wrong.”
“You’re one to talk! You’re more stubborn than me!”
“Am not.”
“You kind of are, jagiya,”
Mira scowled and flicked Rumi in the head, making her yelp. “Hush, workaholic.”
“You and flicking,” Rumi grumbled. Y/N held out a water bottle to her and she gratefully took it. “Thanks.”
Y/N smiled before taking a seat on the floor by the bed. “What’s the plan for today?”
“Rest.”
“Studying.”
Rumi glanced back at Mira, seeing the scowl on her face. “We have to study.”
“WE need rest. We just had a fairly difficult fight.”
“We need to study. We have Finals coming up.”
“I for one can’t focus on studying,” Zoey mumbled. Y/N held up her hand.
“Agreed…movies?”
Zoey gasped and looked at them with excitement on her face. “Please?! Can we have a movie day?!”
Rumi sighed and leaned back against Mira. They really needed to study, but how could she say no to that face. “…fine. But you have to sit on that couch and do nothing but relax and refuel.”
“I can totally do that!” Zoey nodded.
“Whipped,” Mira softly snickered. Rumi elbowed her in the stomach, making her grunt. Y/N chuckled before standing.
“Let’s get you situated. Rumi and Mira can get snacks,” Y/N smiled. Zoey held up her arms to her, making her quirk an eyebrow. “Are your legs broken?”
“No. I’m just tired.”
“So, no movie?”
“Carry me?”
“…no.”
“Please?” Zoey pouted. Y/N groaned and reached down, easily picking up the maknae. Zoey giggled and wrapped her arms around her shoulder, making her huff.
“Don’t wiggle or I’m dropping you.”
“You wouldn’t!”
“Watch me,” Y/N grumbled. Rumi watched them go and Mira’s arms wrapped around her from behind. Her girlfriend rested her chin on her shoulder with a sigh.
“I hate that they are both adorable.”
“Me too…but it keeps things lively.”
“…you think they like each other?”
“Hard to say.”
“Do you think they like us?” Mira asked. Rumi turned to kiss Mira’s cheek.
“I think, we could ask them.”
“That’s a terrible idea.”
“So is staring at them like we are.”
“I-I am not staring!” Rumi protested. Mira tapped her cheek, right where one of her patterns were.
“Glowing,” Mira teased. Rumi groaned and dropped her head. She was already regretting not wearing her ring.
Point of View Change, Y/N
Y/N tiredly ran her fingers through her hair as she walked to the kitchen. It’d been a long night and even longer week. They’d been studying and training relentlessly. They had to figure out the extent of Rumi’s powers, and they wouldn’t let the woman do it alone. It was clear that she was stronger and faster. Teleportation was a thing too. They had to test how far she could go, but they had to be careful doing so. Teleporting left Rumi exhausted. It was a useless skill if they used it incorrectly. Mira had to testify against Chi, which took up much of her time. They told her they’d go with her, but she’d refused. She wanted to do it on her own and that left them to themselves.
Y/N opened the cupboard and pulled out four ramyeons before setting them on the counter. She started the kettle, then moved to the fridge to grab fruit. She couldn’t cook like Mira, so they had to survive on ramyeon. The woman would be ticked when she woke up, but at least they wouldn’t starve. Once the kettle clicked, Y/N poured the hot water into the ramyeons.
“Hmm, I smell food,” Rumi hummed. Y/N smiled and glanced over her shoulder, seeing the older woman sleepily entering the kitchen. Her purple hair was down for a change, and her patters were a soothing, translucent color. “Ramyeon?”
“Yup.”
“For breakfast?”
“I mean, I can get you cereal if you want,” Y/N countered. Rumi shook her head and grabbed chopsticks, placing them on the lids to keep them closed.
“Ramyeon for breakfast sounds amazing,” Rumi smiled. Y/N quickly cut the fruit, and Rumi started to help her. She stood close to her, shoulders brushing against each other as she did.
“Is Mira going to court again?”
“Yeah. She said it will hopefully be the last time.”
“…is she winning the case?”
“…I don’t know,” Rumi truthfully answered. Mira hadn’t said much when she returned. Each trip ended with her either collapsing on the couch or with her going to their gym. She was on edge. “She was tossing and turning a lot last night.”
Y/N hummed and continued to cut the fruit. Mira hadn’t had a chance to relax. She couldn’t. Not with Chi still free. Y/N tightened her grip on the knife. It was her fault that they were in this mess. Maybe she should’ve just stayed away longer. Chi might’ve left them alone if she hadn’t been there. Rumi gently placed her hand on her own, making her flinch.
“You’re thinking too hard,” Rumi murmured. Y/N glanced at the woman, seeing the concern on her face. The pinch between her eyebrows. “What’s going on in your head?”
“Maybe I’m thinking about how pretty you look with those patterns?” Y/N deflected. Rumi blushed and her patterns pulsed pink.
“I-you—” Rumi stammered. Y/N chuckled and patted her cheek.
“Don’t break yourself,” Y/N teased. Rumi sputtered and swatted her hand away.
“Then don’t just say things like that!”
“Say things like what?” Zoey asked. They turned, seeing the maknae tiredly walking towards them. Her hair was haphazard, sticking up in multiple directions. “Is that food?”
“Morning, Zoey,” Rumi smiled. Huh. That was one dopey smile. The fondness there shocked her. Did Rumi feel something for Zoey? “Did you sleep well?”
“Slept okay…Mira wouldn’t let me get up and I really had to pee,” Zoey answered. Y/N raised an eyebrow at Rumi, making her blush again.
“Ah, well I’ll go get her up. Why don’t you two go ahead and start eating?” Rumi quickly spoke. She hurried to their rooms and Y/N motioned to the ramyeons.
“Take those to the table?”
“Sure!” Zoey chimed. She dutifully grabbed two ramyeons, taking them to the table before grabbing the rest. Y/N finished the fruit and joined the woman. “How was your sleep?”
“Alright. It’s starting to get hot at night.”
Zoey groaned. “Tell me about it! I already run hot and adding Mira and Rumi, plus the blankets is awful! I should have them invest in a cooling blanket or something.”
“You sleep with them?” Y/N cautiously asked. Zoey blushed and picked up a ramyeon, taking off the cover to eat.
“I’ve been having a hard time sleeping, so they invited me to join them whenever I can’t.”
“When did that start?”
“When you were in the hospital,” Zoey softly answered. Ah. Makes sense. Y/N opened her own ramyeon and blew on it before taking a bite. The warmth of the noodles gave her a nice feeling in her chest. It warmed her up from the inside. Y/N glanced up at the younger woman and her eyes quickly darted away.
“What?”
“N-nothing,” Zoey stammered, stuffing her face with food. She grimaced at the heat but kept eating.
“You’re going to hurt yourself,” Y/N sighed. She went back to eating and felt Zoey’s eyes on her again. When she looked up, Zoey quickly looked away again. This happened a few more times before Y/N huffed at the woman. “Zoey.”
“What?”
“You’re staring.”
“I’m not.”
“Just tell me why you keep staring at me,” Y/N ordered. Zoey kept her gaze averted and Y/N shook her head. She stood from the table and headed back to the kitchen. She grabbed a few glasses, along with the orange juice container. When she turned, she saw Zoey staring at her…specifically at her leg. Y/N frowned and adjusted her posture.
“Um…do you need me to heal anything?”
“No.”
“Why don’t you sit? I’ll get whatever else you need.”
“I appreciate it, but I’m already up. I’ll get it.”
“But—”
“Zoey, I’m not broken,” Y/N snapped. Zoey flinched and Y/N held her gaze. She didn’t like getting snappy at her, but things were getting annoying. They were all treating her like she was fragile. All three of them. Even when they were training, they were holding back.
“I didn’t say you were broken,” Zoey mumbled. Y/N placed the glasses on the table with a huff.
“You didn’t have to. The way you look at me is enough.”
“I’m just—”
“I don’t need your pity, Zoey. Not yours, not Rumi’s, or Mira’s. This is why I didn’t tell you about my leg. I didn’t want this,” Y/N gestured between them. She saw the way Zoey shrunk and the way she bit her lip. Damn it. Y/N poured the juice before walking away. Rumi and Mira were walking towards them; twin frowns directed at her. She didn’t stop. She merely continued to her room. She needed to move.
Y/N felt the strain in her arms as she slammed her fists into the punching bag. She’d changed and gone straight to their gym. That had been an hour ago. She’d spent that first hour running at the fastest speed she could go, only stopping when her legs gave out under her. Now, she was taking out her frustration on the punching bag. Her hands were screaming at her to stop. Screaming at her to take a moment and properly bandage them. She didn’t want to. The pain was what she was striving for. Her next hit broke skin and she hissed, pulling her hand back to shake it out. There was a blood stain on the bag and her vision tunneled. She hit it again, seeing Hawke and her old team. She hit it again, seeing Mira get struck down by that humanoid dragon. She hit it again, seeing Rumi’s soft smile and Zoey’s bright one. They were always so kind to her and she was just…her. She snarled and her hands turned into claws. They tore into the bag, ripping it to pieces and sending sand spilling across the floor. Anger flared in her chest and she shook her head, heading for a second bag.
“You’re going to run yourself dry,” Mira spoke. Y/N ignored her and dismissed her claws to start punching at the bag again. She heard the woman approach, but she continued to hit the bag. Mira easily caught her wrist, and she glared at the woman. “Don’t give me that look. You need to stop.”
Y/N tried to pull her wrist free, but the woman merely tightened her grip. “Let go.”
“No. Doing this isn’t going to change what you said to Zoey. It’s not going to make that go away.”
“Good to know. Now, let go.”
Mira held her gaze and she was certain she’d let go…what she wasn’t expecting was for her to drop kick her. She gasped as she was sent staggering back and she barely got her arms up to block Mira’s next hit. The woman was always the strongest one of the four of them. All strength, but precise. Her hits were always carefully aimed. Carefully controlled. Her hands moved in a flurry of movements, making Y/N curse. She was too tired for this. Mira swiped her legs out from under her, and she hit the ground with a grunt. Before she could get up, Mira was on her. Her arm wrapped around neck while her legs pinned her arms to her side. “Tap out.”
Y/N growled and tried to wiggle free. She didn’t want to tap out. Mira tightened her grip and she glowered at her. She didn’t want to yield, but she also didn’t want to fight Mira. Not really. She tapped Mira’s arm, making her release her. She sat up, rubbing her hand along her neck with a grimace. “Are you done beating me up?”
“Are you done being an ass?”
Y/N glared at her and crossed her arms. “I won’t try anything if that’s what you mean.”
Mira sighed and sat up. “I guess we’ll start there…why’d you say what you did to Zoey?”
“I said what I said because I’m tired of her looking at me like I’m broken.”
“That’s not how she’s looking at you.”
“It is,” Y/N snapped. She lifted her gaze, glaring at Mira as she did. “It’s how all of you are looking at me. I’m not broken.”
“No…but you are hurting,” Mira pointed out. She leaned back on one of her hands before bringing up a knee to rest her other arm on. “There’s a difference between hurting and being broken. I’ve seen broken. That’s not what you are.”
“Sounds like the same thing to me,” Y/N grumbled. Mira’s eyes softened and she shook her head.
“They aren’t the same thing…but I can see why you think that. I used to think the same thing,” Mira spoke. Y/N frowned at the woman. What? “My family…wasn’t the best. My mother acted like I never existed and my father made me wish I didn’t exist. You’ve met my brother. He wasn’t any better. Living under that roof felt like Hell. I never knew what I was waking up to. I never knew what my father would put me through or how my brother would hurt me. My mother didn’t even take care of me when they did end up hurting me. She always said I deserved it. A problem child that was getting too wild, especially when my powers started to manifest. I started fighting back. I got into fights with everyone. I couldn’t make friends and I thought it was because I was broken.”
Y/N saw the way her eyes darkened. Saw the pain that flashed in her gaze.
“I thought I would be alone forever…then, I met Rumi. I snapped at her, but the pain in my ass didn’t take no for an answer. She just kept pushing and pushing until I finally punched her.”
“…seriously?”
“Yup. Punched her right in the gut. She keeled right over.”
“Then what?”
“Then, she punched me back. We got into a fist fight that ended with us bleeding and bruised.”
“And that helped how?”
“In a strange way, it calmed me. I lost that fight, but Rumi still helped me up. She still tended to my wounds before her own. She didn’t let me pull away. She stayed,” Mira answered. Y/N saw the smile that came to Mira’s face. The fondness and love. “She showed me that I wasn’t broken like I thought. She showed me that I was just hurting from a pain that needed mending. I learned to love her before I loved myself, but she made sure to teach me that I wasn’t a problem child. That I deserved to be cared for and loved.”
Y/N looked down at her hands. Deserved to be loved. Mira did deserve to be loved. She was kind. Gentle in a way that only they got to see. She radiated this aura that threatened anyone who tried to hurt them, but she treated them with a gentleness that made her stomach flutter. “I’m glad Rumi showed you how to love yourself.”
“It took time, but she didn’t give up on me,” Mira hummed. She gently placed her hand on her own, squeezing it. “For the record, I won’t give up on you either. I don’t think you’re broken. I think the world has done nothing but show you hate and I think you deserve people who care for you. You deserve people who show you how to love yourself.”
Y/N stared down at their hands, feeling a tightness in her chest. She couldn’t tell if she wanted to cry or pass out. This was too much. “…you like Zoey…don’t you?”
Mira’s hand tensed and she looked up, seeing the shocked look on her face.
“You and Rumi like Zoey.”
“…we do,” Mira slowly answered. Y/N smiled and nodded. How could they not like her? She was the embodiment of sunshine. A light in the dark. She was kind to everyone, and her bubbliness was almost infectious. She was too good for this world.
“I think you and Rumi should talk to her. I think she likes you two as well,” Y/N spoke. She pulled her hand free from Mira before standing. They’d be good together. Rumi and Mira could give Zoey the love she deserved. “Ask her out and go on a date.”
“Y/N,” Mira softly spoke. Y/N glanced down at her, seeing the confusion in her eyes. The sight made her quickly look away.
“I can find you a place to take her. I think I know the perfect place for a first date,” Y/N spoke. She headed for the door, ignoring Mira calling out to her. She couldn’t keep looking at her. She’d cave if she did. She’d spout what she was actually feeling if she kept looking at her. Y/N quickly headed to her room and closed her door, leaning against it to slide to the floor. She’d really just done that. She’d told Mira to ask Zoey out. She tangled her fingers in her hair with a heavy sigh. Her chances now were non-existent…but she’d give up everything just to make sure they were happy. Y/N went to her desk and picked up her phone, searching for the place she knew Zoey would like. The aquarium. She always raved about how she wanted to visit it. Y/N purchased three tickets, then sent them to the group message.
Sunshine: ??? R we going to the aquarium?!
Tiger: In the middle of the day?
CinnamonRoll: There’s only 3 tickets
Y/N: I have things to do but I saw the special exhibit and thought u 3 should go
Sunshine: But it won’t be as fun if we aren’t all there
Y/N rolled her eyes and quickly typed back: Just bring me back a souvenir
Tiger: Go with us next time?
Next time. Would there be a next time? Well, likely, but Y/N shouldn’t be involved with that. She couldn’t be. A separate message dinged from Mira and Y/N opened it.
CinnamonRoll: U can come u know
Y/N: I know. U 3 have fun. Tell me about it when u get back?
CinnamonRoll: Alright
CinnamonRoll: We’re talking when I get back
Y/N left Mira on read and placed her phone down. She wasn’t entirely lying. She did have things to do. Things that would be easier without the women interrupting her. Her hands throbbed and she glanced down at her split knuckles. Right. She needed to tend to those. First fix up her hands, then she’d get to work.
Point of View Change, Mira
Mira couldn’t help but smile at the way Zoey was vibrating next to her. They were sitting in the back of the car, waiting to arrive at the aquarium. Rumi was sitting on her other side, and she was also smiling at Zoey. The maknae was just way too excited between them. “I’m guessing you’re excited to go?”
“I am so excited! I have my ocean notebook ready to go! I’ve got facts about turtles, sharks, seals, and reef fish!”
“How about lionfish? I like those,” Rumi asked. Zoey nodded and opened her notebook, rifling through it before pointing excitedly.
“Here! They can live up to fifteen years and even live down to depths of a thousand feet! They are really versatile!”
“Huh, that’s cool,” Rumi smiled, looking at the notebook. Mira glanced at it too and she was amazed by the detail in the drawing.
“You’re an amazing artist, Zo,” Mira complimented. Zoey blushed and Mira pointed at one of the colorful tabs. “Is that one for sharks?”
“Y-yup!”
“Got any facts about tiger sharks?” Mira asked. Zoey nodded and turned the pages to the one she was looking for. Mira leaned in close and she could smell Zoey’s apple scented shampoo.
“T-tiger sharks can turn their stomachs inside out to regurgitate things they can’t digest.”
“Sick,” Mira grinned. Tiger sharks were aggressive, but there was something mesmerizing about how they moved in the water. She glanced at Zoey, seeing the deep blush on her face. The way she was practically holding her breath. Mira hummed and leaned close to her ear. “Breathe, Zo. You’re going to make yourself sick.”
“Yeah, don’t stop breathing. It’s important to not stop breathing,” Rumi teased. Zoey straightened with a squeak.
“I-I’m breathing!”
Mira shared a shit-eating grin with Rumi before leaning back. This was going to turn into an amusing trip.
At the aquarium, Mira and Rumi had to move quickly to keep up with Zoey. She was even more energetic the moment they stepped inside. She went to every exhibit with an interesting fact. Mira was impressed by how much information Zoey had. She was a literal walking textbook. Zoey kept taking pictures of them as they went, making sure to make them pose like tourists. It was demeaning, but also fun. At one point, Rumi got startled by a pufferfish, which had made Mira cackle and Zoey snort from laughing so hard. Her patterns had pulsed an amusing pink with her face an even deeper shade of red. She was so damn cute. They made their way through the aquarium, stopping at the gift shop before leaving. They all bought something for one another and then something for Y/N. It was amusing that they all picked something out for the woman.
After the aquarium, Mira had their driver take them to get dinner. It was strip of food stands along a pond. It was a nice place to eat and relax. Zoey chose a burger, Rumi chose kimbap, and Mira chose spicy ramyeon. They’d likely go back for seconds, but this was enough for now. They sat on the park bench to eat and relax.
“That was a lot of fun!” Zoey exclaimed, taking a bite of her burger. Rumi nodded and bit into her roll of kimbap.
“We should go again.”
“I for one wouldn’t mind going to a museum so I don’t smell like fish all day.”
Rumi leaned close and gave her a small sniff. “You do smell like fish.”
Mira scoffed and pushed her face away. “Okay, weirdo. Go back to gnawing on your kimbap.”
“Wherever we go, we should bring Y/N. She really missed out,” Zoey spoke. Mira nodded and took a bite of her own food. It had been her idea in the first place. She should’ve been there with them. Mira glanced at Zoey, seeing the bit of ketchup on the corner of her mouth. She reached over, using her thumb to wipe it away. Zoey’s face turned almost as red as the sauce and Mira hummed, putting her thumb in her mouth.
“You had a little something on your face,” Mira hummed. Zoey sputtered and Mira smirked, focusing back on her own food. “We should take food back for Y/N.”
“What should we get her?”
“Hmm, something light. Maybe a ramen?”
“How about that pho stand?”
“Are we just ignoring the fact that Mira just wiped ketchup off my face then ate it?” Zoey questioned. Mira turned, smirking at her.
“I did what? I don’t remember doing that.”
“You literally just did it!” Zoey exclaimed. Mira shrugged and Zoey scowled at her. “You are ridiculous.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Mira countered. Rumi stuffed the rest of her kimbap in her mouth before standing. “Where you going?”
“I’m getting dessert.”
“Bring me back something?” Mira asked. Rumi smiled and leaned down, giving her a chaste kiss.
“Will do,” Rumi murmured before glancing at Zoey. “Do you want something?”
“Yeah! That’d be great!” Zoey beamed. Rumi kissed her forehead, making the woman’s blush return.
“I’ll be back,” Rumi hummed. She turned and headed for the food stalls. Zoey groaned and slid down in her seat.
“You two are going to kill me,” Zoey grumbled. Mira handed Zoey a napkin before finishing her ramyeon.
“This has been a fun day,” Mira pointed out. Zoey nodded and quickly finished her burger.
“It was fun. Thank you, for indulging me with my random facts.”
“They were interesting, that’s for sure. I didn’t know half of those facts.”
“Well, that’s what I’m here for! Interesting facts and all,” Zoey awkwardly chuckled. Mira turned and cupped her face, making her meet her gaze.
“I for one like you for more than just your interesting facts.”
“Y-yeah?”
“Yeah. You’re kind, smart, talented, and an amazing mage. You fill the room with your presence and make everything so much brighter," Mira complimented. Zoey blushed and lowered her gaze.
"I-I'm not too much?" Zoey softly stammered. Mira felt a spike of anger in her chest. Whoever told Zoey she was too much was going to find the sharp end of her gok-do.
“You’re never too much, Zo,” Mira argued. Zoey lifted her gaze, just slightly to look at her from below her lashes.
“Really?”
“Really,” Mira smiled. Zoey smiled softly at her and Mira could hear Y/N’s voice in her head. She could do this. God, why was this making her nervous?!
“Um…M-Mira?”
“Yes?”
“C-can I…” Zoey trailed off, eyes darting around her face.
“Can you?”
Zoey took a deep breath before speaking. “CanIkissyou?!”
Mira’s smile broadened and she leaned forward in response. Zoey met her halfway and their lips met softly. Her kiss was hesitant at first, but she quickly deepened it. Mira let her dictate the intensity of the kiss and she felt Zoey’s fingers tangle in her hair. She pulled back and saw the way Zoey’s eyes sparkled with mirth. “What?”
“You taste like spicy ramyeon,” Zoey giggled. Mira chuckled and kissed her nose, making her giggles intensify.
“It’s like I ate ramyeon or something.”
“Hey! Not fair!” Rumi exclaimed. Zoey shot back, eyes going wide in shock.
“Rumi! I just, um, we were just—”
“Kissing my girlfriend. Not like I can complain. She is hot.”
“Guilty,” Mira chuckled. Rumi cleared the distance between them, stuffing the desserts into Mira’s face as she did. “Hey!”
Rumi grabbed Zoey’s face to make her meet her gaze. “Can I kiss you too, Zoey?”
Zoey nodded and Rumi pulled her into a kiss. Mira saw the way Zoey’s shoulders relaxed and how Rumi smiled into the kiss. Mira sighed and took a bite of the pastry that had been shoved into her face. It was almost as sweet as the kiss happening in front of her. Zoey pulled back and glanced between them. “Does this mean you both like me?”
“I mean, I wouldn’t just kiss you for nothing.”
“Totally not. I just kissed you for shits and giggles,” Mira deadpanned. Rumi kicked her shin, making her yelp. “Ow! I was joking!”
“Be nice!” Rumi chastised. Mira rubbed at her shin and glared at her girlfriend. She’d make her pay for that later. Rumi’s phone rang and she frowned, taking it out to look at it. She excused herself before stepping away to answer.
“So, does this make us girlfriends?”
“If that’s what you want.”
“And if I tell you that I like Y/N too?” Zoey softly asked. Mira tilted her head with a smile.
“I’d say, I wouldn’t be upset by that.”
“Do you like her too?”
“I think I do,” Mira nodded. She wasn’t as sure as she was about her feelings for Zoey, but she couldn’t deny the pull she felt towards Y/N. The need to protect her and love her. It was more than just a friendship. Mira knew she wanted more. Rumi walked back to them and Mira straightened at the panicked look on her face. “Ru? What’s the matter?”
“I-Eomeoni called,” Rumi stammered. Mira stood and took her hands, bringing them to her lips to press a soft kiss to them. It helped ground Rumi enough to continue. “Eomma is hurt. She’s at the hospital.”
“What do you need?”
“I-I need to get to the hospital. Eomeoni said she’d tell me more when I got there.”
“Okay…Zoey?”
“I got us a car.”
Mira nodded and followed Zoey, keeping Rumi steady as she did. They’d help Rumi however they needed.
At the hospital, Zoey immediately asked the ER nurses for Mi-Yeong while Mira texted Y/N. She’d let her know that they were heading to the hospital and had promised to message her once they arrived. She’d responded with a thumbs up and a promise to be there soon.
“Aein?”
Rumi jumped and pushed away from Mira, running to Celine. “Eomeoni! Eomma, is she—is she okay?”
“Breathe, Aein,” Celine instructed, pulling her into her arms. Rumi relaxed against her and Mira awkwardly shifted from one foot to the other. Zoey came back to her, taking her hand.
“They said we’d have to talk to Celine,” Zoey whispered. Mira nodded and kept her gaze on Rumi. Celine pulled away enough to address them.
“Come. We have a private area to speak,” Celine spoke. They fell into step behind the older woman, heading deeper into the hospital. The farther they went, the more uneasy Mira felt. There was security everywhere. Celine pulled them to a stop outside a large window, gazing into it with a sigh. “There was an attack on her facility. She tried to fight but sustained severe injuries.”
Rumi’s breath hitched as she looked through the window. “Eomma.”
“The doctors have stabilized her. Their magic is healing her from the inside, out. Their main focus is the internal bleeding, then the broken bones,” Celine explained. Mira joined Rumi, looking through the window. Mi-Yeong was hooked up to monitors and I.V.s. There were bandages across her body while several mages focused on healing her. “They will likely put her into a medically induced coma until her injuries have stabilized.”
“H-how long?”
“As long as she needs.”
Rumi whimpered and her patterns turned a dark purple. Mira quickly pulled her into a tight embrace, running soothing hands along her back. The woman pressed her face against her neck and she felt her shaking.
“Do we know who did this?” Zoey asked, stepping closer to place her hand against the small of Rumi’s back.
“We have leads. The council will be looking into it. Soo-Ah is personally leading the investigation. We know this, it was a coordinated attack. Only Mi-Yeong’s division was targeted. No other part of the facility was touched.”
“Any casualties?”
“Five. Their next of kin are being notified,” Celine answered. Mira silently cursed and tightened her grip on Rumi. A coordinated attack. Who would attack a facility that focused on prosthetics? A facility that was aimed at helping those in need. Mi-Yeong’s facility was right beside one of the police branches. That would’ve been a better target. “Where is Y/N?”
“She’s on her way. She was at the penthouse,” Mira answered. Celine twirled to face her, eyes betraying the normal neutrality that she held.
“Tell her to stay at the penthouse.”
“I do—”
“Guys!” Y/N interrupted. Mira turned, seeing the woman running towards them. She only made it about halfway to them before she gasped, tumbling to the ground hard.
“Y/N!” Zoey exclaimed, going to run to her. There were blurs of movement and Zoey yelped as she was slammed against the nearest wall. Mira snarled and went to help her, only to be shoved to the ground and pinned. She squirmed under the solid hand against her head.
“Keep moving and I’ll have to break something,” the man above her threatened.
“Mira! Zoey! Eomeoni, let go!” Rumi shouted.
“You are taking this too far, Edward,” Celine growled. A man who Mira assumed was Edward came into her line of sight, looking down at Y/N’s writhing body in disgust.
“Orders from higher up. She is to be apprehended for the attack on Ryu Prosthetics,” Edward scowled. Upon closer inspection, Mira recognized him. He was the same man who’d intercepted them when they first reunited with Y/N. He turned the face of his watch and Y/N’s body jolted, then seized.
“Stop it!”
“I’ll rip your fucking hand off! Let her go!”
“Do that and you’ll be apprehended next,” Edward seethed. He turned and his eyes landed on Rumi. “You were supposed to be watching her.”
“I-I have been.”
“Then how was she allowed to run loose and attack Dr. Ryu?”
“I-we went out. She said she was staying at the penthouse.”
“Edward, check your tracker. You’ll know if Y/N left or not,” Celine calmly spoke.
“That tracker is invalid. We don’t know the full extent of a shadow dragon’s powers. She could easily have tricked us.”
“You know that is highly unli—”
“It doesn’t matter what you have to say, Celine. President Soo-Ah has already signed the order. Y/L/N Y/N is to be taken into custody.”
“Over my dead body!” Mira snarled, gathering her fire. She wouldn’t let them take her. There was no way Y/N had done anything wrong. She wouldn’t have attacked Rumi’s mother. The woman they knew would never attack someone who didn’t deserve it. She hissed in pain when the pressure against her head increased.
“Stop squirming,” the voice above her growled. There was a thud and Mira strained to see where the noise had come from. Zoey. Her body was bound in a glowing, yellow rope.
“I suggest you don’t try anything, Ms. Choi. You might be a strong mage, but even you can’t break through those restraints,” Edward sighed. Magic binding rope. These guys weren’t playing around.
“S-stop,” Y/N stammered. Mira looked back at Y/N, seeing how she was looking up at Edward. Seeing how her body convulsed. “D-don’t hurt them.”
“You are in no position to make demands.”
“I-I’ll go with you. No fighting, n-no funny business. I’ll cooperate. I’ll do whatever you ask.”
Edward glared down at her. “You’d have to do that either way…but fine. Come freely and I’ll let this little…dispute go.”
“Y-you have my word,” Y/N grunted. Edward turned his watch face and Y/N’s body went slack.
“Get up and walk,” Edward ordered. Y/N shakily pushed herself to her hands and knees, body barely holding herself up. “Hurry up.”
Y/N wobbled to her feet and several men were immediately upon her. They shackled her hands and forcibly grabbed her by her arms.
“No!”
“Let her go!”
“This isn’t right! You can’t take her!” Zoey yelled.
“It’s okay,” Y/N sighed. She gave them a reassuring smile, but Mira could see the fear in her eyes. The terror. “Don’t fight them. It’s going to be okay.”
“You may release them once we are gone,” Edward ordered. The remaining men nodded and Mira watched in dismay as Y/N was dragged away from them. Watched in dismay as the woman didn’t even try to fight back. She just willingly let them take her. Mira wanted to scream.
Point of View Change, Zoey
Zoey hugged her knees to her chest as they sat in silence. She sat there, blankly watching Mira pace. They’d taken Y/N. They’d taken her and she hadn’t even fought back. She’d just let them take her. All to protect them. Zoey pressed her forehead to her knees and trembled. They hadn’t been able to help her in return.
“Y/S/N will be here shortly,” Celine spoke. Rumi took a seat beside her and Zoey felt her pull her into an awkward embrace.
“T-they took her,” Zoey murmured.
“…I know,” Rumi sadly sighed. She gently massaged the back of her neck, trying to soothe her. Mira kept pacing, cursing as she did. “Mira.”
“This is bullshit! They can’t just take her! She didn’t do anything wrong!”
“We don’t know that.”
“Oh, fuck you, Celine! You know she didn’t do anything wrong! She wouldn’t attack Mi-Yeong-nim!”
“I know that…but the council won’t just take my word for it. Not when something this extreme has happened.”
“What will they do to her?” Zoey asked, lifting her head. She met Celine’s gaze and the older woman’s shoulders sagged. “What will they do?”
Celine sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. “If Soo-Ah signed the papers, then she’ll likely go to the highest extreme. They’ll interrogate Y/N. Use any means necessary to get her to talk…they’ll likely call-in elves.”
“Elves?” Rumi gaped. Celine nodded and glanced back at Mi-Yeong’s room.
“The council has connections with the elf enclave. They have a mutual understanding. If and when the council calls upon them, they will come. Vica versa.”
“What will the elves do to her?”
“They’ll tear her apart,” Rook spoke. Zoey turned, seeing Rook and Y/S/N jogging to them. Y/S/N went straight for Celine and shoved her.
“What the hell, Celine! You promised me you’d protect her if I let you handle things!”
“I will do what I can to prove her innocence.”
“That’s not enough! You should’ve stopped them from taking her! They’ll kill her! You know that!” Y/S/N screamed. Zoey tensed and her mind started to spiral. They’d kill her. The council would kill her. They didn’t care if she was innocent. All they saw was a shadow dragon. All they saw was a danger that needed to be put down. Rumi got into her line of sight, but Zoey couldn’t hear what she said. Her mouth was moving, but she didn’t know what she was saying. Her eyes were wide in a panic and she turned to Mira, who quickly knelt in front of her. The pink haired woman took her hand, pressing it against her chest. She took a deep breath and Zoey copied her. She repeated the process until she could hear the arguing from the other side of the room. She repeated the process until she could clearly hear Mira and Rumi.
“Zoey? Zoey, can you tell me something you can feel?”
“Y-your heart.”
“Good, aegiya. Good,” Mira nodded. Rumi cupped her face and Zoey leaned into the touch.
“What else can you feel?” Rumi asked.
“Your hand…it’s dry.”
Rumi chuckled and ran her thumb along her cheek. “I’ll put lotion on later.”
The arguing continued and Zoey found her eyes moving to them. Y/S/N was still shouting at Celine while the woman tried to calm her. Rook was standing nearby, but she wasn’t interfering.
“Rook?” Zoey spoke. Rook turned and her face softened.
“Hey, kid. You okay?”
“What’s really going to happen to Y/N?” Zoey asked. Rook’s face fell and she ran her hand down her face. She shook her head and crossed her arms.
“If they call in the elves, they’ll do whatever it takes to make her talk. They’re known for their…extreme measures. Both physical and mental. They’ll put her through hell.”
“She didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I know kid, but they won’t stop until that is proven…”
“Or until she dies,” Mira finished. Rook nodded and Zoey’s breath hitched. Rumi’s hand moved to her chest, pressing firmly against her.
“Zo, keep breathing into my hand. Okay? Keep breathing for me,” Rumi coaxed. Zoey did her best to follow her instructions, but it didn’t stop her mind from wandering to Y/N. To her soft smile when she thought no one was looking. To the way she always put herself between them and danger.
“I-I don’t want to lose her,” Zoey stammered. Rumi and Mira hugged her, holding her tightly between them.
“We’ll figure it out, Zo.”
“We will. We’ll figure it out.”
Zoey didn’t know if she trusted that. She was scared. Terrified that they’d lose Y/N. That things would go terribly wrong. She had to make herself believe Rumi and Mira. She had to. If she didn’t, she’d go crazy.
The first day was a blur. Nothing made sense as they studied for their final exams. They couldn’t get an extension, and Zoey couldn’t help but wonder if Y/N would be allowed to take her finals later.
The second day was similar to the first, but they ended up training for the second half of the day. Mira had gone stir crazy while Zoey needed to do something with her hands. It was good to train as Rumi needed to practice using her powers to her full extent.
The third and fourth day were awful. Without Y/N, Zoey found herself being bullied again. Without her, Seok and his team weren’t as scared to mess with her. She found herself shoved inside a locker, which is something that hadn’t happened since elementary school. Rumi had luckily found her about an hour into her being locked up, but that was enough for Zoey to avoid going to class. She refused to go, which would hurt her grades. When Rumi told Mira, the taller woman had seethed, heading straight to Soo-Ah’s office. She’d come back with a thorough reprimanding for barging in, but Soo-Ah had promised that if Seok or his team touched Zoey again, they would be severely punished.
When Rook heard about this, she made it her job to escort Zoey to and from class. The older woman didn’t leave her side when she was out of the penthouse. Actually, Y/S/N and Rook both stayed with them. They refused to leave them alone. They were in this together and Zoey was grateful for their presence. Rook was their protector outside of the penthouse while Y/S/N was their caretaker inside the penthouse. She cooked for them. Cleaned for them. She was trying to care for them, and Zoey knew it was for their benefit and her own. Taking care of them took her mind off Y/N. Not completely, but just a bit.
By the end of the first week, Zoey thought she’d go insane. Their exams were in a few days and she didn’t feel ready. She felt anything but ready. She couldn’t do this. She wouldn’t pass her exams.
“Hey, Zee, you good?” Jinu asked. Zoey groaned and dropped her head on the table in front of her. They had agreed to meet at the library to study together, and she was regretting that decision.
“None of this makes sense! I’m going to fail these exams and get kicked out of school! I don’t know what I’m doing!”
“Hey, hey. Take a breath before you pass out,” Jinu instructed. Zoey did just that, but she kept her head pressed against the table. “You aren’t going to fail your exams.”
“You don’t know that!”
“I do. I’m your older brother. I know these things.”
“Jinu, you aren’t helping!”
“Okay, okay, sshh!” Jinu hushed, patting her head. “You’re going to get us kicked out.”
“I’m sorry,” Zoey apologized. She just felt bad about these exams. She felt bad about everything. Mira and Rumi were trying to keep it together for her, but she could tell that they were suffering just as much as her. They all missed Y/N. They were all worried about her.
“You don’t have to apologize. You’re having a hard time right now…have you heard anything about Y/N?”
Zoey shook her head. “No. We haven’t heard a thing. Not even Celine has heard anything.”
“It’s been what, a week?”
“Yeah.”
“I want to be positive for you and say she’s fine, but I don’t want to lie to you,” Jinu spoke. Zoey felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes. “You can’t change anything that’s happening. You can’t fix it, because it’s out of your control. The only thing you can do right now is focus on your exams. Focus on yourself.”
“I can’t do that.”
“What would Y/N tell you?” Jinu asked. Zoey lifted her head, looking at her brother. His head was tilted at her and there was a resigned look on his face. “What would she tell you?”
Zoey imagined what Y/N would say. She imagined how the woman would react to her at this moment. She was always selfless. She always put others before herself. “I think she’d tell me to focus on my exams.”
“Then do what she’d tell you. I think that’s the only thing you can do right now,” Jinu nodded. Zoey hated that he was right. She had to focus on her exams. She picked up her pencil and started working again.
It was at the end of the second week that they found themselves eating at a local Korean BBQ place. It had been Rumi’s idea for them to celebrate finishing their exams and the start of their summer. They would have a break from school, but they’d still go on missions. Training wouldn’t stop either. But they had this night to themselves. They toasted and Mira fell into cooking mode. She grilled for them while Rumi tried to engage Zoey in small talk. It was sweet of her, but Zoey felt wrong sitting here celebrating. They were missing a piece. Rumi’s phone dinged and she glanced down at it, eyes widening as she did.
“Ru?” Mira asked. Rumi picked up her phone and responded to the text.
“Eomma woke for a few minutes earlier today. She’s stable enough that I can visit,” Rumi awed. She lifted her head with a shaky smile. “She’s okay.”
“That’s great, Ru. Do you want to go after we eat?”
“I think visiting hours are done for the day. Can we go first thing in the morning?”
Mira nodded and kissed her cheek. “Alright.”
Zoey took Rumi’s hand, squeezing it tightly. “Whatever you need, I’m here for you too.”
Rumi smiled at her and brought her hand to her lips, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles. “Thank you.”
Zoey blushed and the breaking news alert on the t.v. caught her attention. She gasped and pointed at the small box across the room. “Look!”
The three of them looked at the t.v. and saw Soo-Ah speaking with the press. The woman looked regal in a way that reminded her of Celine. The steeliness in her eyes however was a stark difference. Yes, Celine was stoic, but she wasn’t steely in her demeanor.
“A few weeks ago, there was an attack on Ryu Prosthetics. The head doctor, Doctor Ryu Mi-Yeong was severely injured. Today, we have confirmed the culprit of said attack,” Soo-Ah spoke. A picture was revealed on the screen beside her. Zoey’s breath caught in her throat, and she felt her stomach twist. “Chen Seok was seen entering the building and it was later confirmed that he was the one who attacked Dr. Ryu and her team. A hefty award will be given to whomever brings in Seok. Dead or alive, this man must be brought to the police. Any previous suspects are hereby pardoned. That is all.”
“Seok,” Zoey gaped. The man who constantly bullied her at school. The man whose actions seemed to intensify now that he knew Y/N was gone. He’d only know that if he had something to do with it. Everyone else would’ve been too scared to act, but he hadn’t been. “Seok did this.”
“Soo-Ah pardoned anyone they thought were suspects. Does that mean they released Y/N?” Rumi questioned. Mira took out her phone and dialed a number before bringing it to her ear.
“Bobby? Did you see the news?” Mira asked. She listened to Bobby answer and her eyes widened. “What? When?”
Zoey and Rumi shared an uncertain look. What was Bobby saying to Mira? Mira cursed and grabbed her wallet, placing money on the table.
“We’ll be there in ten,” Mira affirmed. She hung up the phone and stood. “We need to go.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Bobby said that they were bringing Y/N back to the penthouse.”
“Right now?!” Zoey exclaimed. Mira nodded and they all scrambled to their feet. It was a ten-minute walk back to the penthouse. They’d make it in five if they ran.
They did run the entire way to the penthouse, only stopping when the elevator took forever. Mira already had her keys out by the time they got to the door. It slid into place and they scrambled inside. Mira bristled at the sight before her.
“Who the hell are you?!” Mira questioned. Zoey stepped around Mira, seeing who she was yelling at. An elf. The elf was petite, with black hair in a ponytail and face tattoos. She squeaked in alarm and Rook was between them before Mira could do anything drastic.
“Hold on, she’s not a threat,” Rook spoke. Rumi growled too and Zoey felt her magic at her fingertips. “She’s not a threat!”
“I-I’m really not!” the elf stammered. Rumi and Mira were ready to pounce, and Zoey was ready to help them.
“Enough!” Y/S/N shouted. They continued to square off, and the mage growled in irritation. “I don’t have time for this. Rook! Sit, down.”
“But—”
“Now!”
Rook pulled the elf with her and the two of them took a seat on the couch. Y/S/N twirled, leveling them with a fierce glare.
“You three, sit and if you argue with me, I swear I will hit you with a stun spell!”
Zoey could tell that the woman wasn’t joking. She grabbed Mira and Rumi, pulling on their hands. “Let’s just see what she has to say.”
“If I don’t like it, I’m setting her on fire.”
“I’ll help,” Rumi grunted. The three of them moved to the kitchen, sitting at the barstools. They stared at the elf as Y/S/N tiredly leaned against the wall by their rooms. “Talk.”
“Bellara is a friend of mine. When I confirmed they were calling in the elves, I gave her a call,” Rook explained. Bellara nodded and she twiddled her thumbs nervously. “I knew that they’d send the strongest of their mages since it’s a shadow dragon they’d be allowed to see. I wanted to make sure we had someone on the inside that could help.”
“Did you help her?” Mira asked.
“As much as I could. Our mages have a…unique way of interrogating. I’m sure Rook explained some of it to you already.”
“She did.”
“Well, the part that makes things tricky is when we use our magic to pick apart their brain. Their memories and what makes them, well, them. We use those memories and pick them apart. Show them their worst fears to get them to talk,” Bellara explained. Zoey cringed at that. They’d use her memories to hurt her. They’d make her see everything she feared.
“How exactly did you help then? Did you just make things less nightmarish for her? Make her see a spider instead of a drake? Or maybe a puppy instead of a wolf?” Mira seethed. Rook shook her head and Bellara frowned.
“No. I helped her when the others left. Whenever they left, I ensured that her wounds were tended to. I ensured that she wouldn’t die from the wounds inflicted upon her. When they pushed too hard, I convinced them to back off,” Bellara explained. She looked at her hands and Zoey could see them shake. “Before they started prying into her head, I told her to think of a safe place. A place that they couldn’t touch. I promised her I’d keep that place just that. A place that the other elves couldn’t see. People they couldn’t touch.”
Bellara lifted her gaze and Zoey saw the remorse in her eyes. “She showed me this penthouse. The three of you. I promised her I wouldn’t let the others use you against her.”
“You kept her sane,” Rumi stated.
“As much as I could. They still hurt her. They still broke her down. First physically, then mentally,” Bellara nodded. She bowed her head to them and her lower lip shook. “I’m sorry. I did all that I could to help her.”
Rook patted her back and looked at Y/S/N. “We had her brought here, because when we tried to bring her to our place; she freaked. She fought us and we had to sedate her.”
Zoey looked to Y/S/N, seeing the fading scratch marks on her face. “Is she in her room?”
“She is. She won’t come out. She won’t even look at us. Look at me,” Y/S/N sadly answered. She kept her eyes on the ground as she touched the marks on her face. “I don’t want to leave her here, but they used us against her. She won’t trust us.”
“We’re hoping she’ll trust you three,” Rook added. Zoey stood from the barstool and walked to the couch. Rook straightened while Bellara cowered.
“You promise you did what you could to help her?” Zoey asked. Bellara lifted her gaze and she saw the sincerity there.
“I swear to you, I did what I could,” Bellara swore. Zoey nodded and held out her hand. Bellara stared at it for a moment before gently taking it. She shook her hand and inclined her head.
“Thank you,” Zoey murmured. Bellara shakily sighed and lowered her gaze again.
“We’ll stay nearby, but it might be better for us to leave. If we’re here, she might not ever trust again,” Rook spoke, standing from the couch. She went to Y/S/N, resting her forehead against her own. “She doesn’t need us. She needs the three of you.”
“We’ll help her.”
“We’ll do whatever it takes.”
Rook nodded and she gently led Y/S/N to the door. Bellara stood and glanced towards their rooms.
“They had her locked in a pitch-black room when we weren’t interrogating her. They deprived her of her senses to make her more pliant to our magic.”
Zoey nodded and the three women left, leaving them alone. The penthouse felt stuffy. Wrong. Zoey looked to their rooms and clenched her hands. They had to figure this out. They had to. “I think we should take her the gifts we got her.”
“I think she’d like that,” Mira nodded. She took their hands and led them to their rooms. Zoey’s was the first room, which made it easy for them to grab the gifts they’d gotten for Y/N. At the end of the hall, was Y/N’s open door. It was bright inside the room and they cautiously approached. The mattress was overturned, lying against the wall. Y/N was pressed up against it in the corner of the room, her things blocking the path to her. The bed frame, the dresser. Anything that she could move was between them. She looked so small in the corner.
“Y/N?” Zoey softly spoke. Y/N flinched and her arms tightened around her knees. She was curling in on herself more. “It’s just us. We brought you some gifts from the aquarium.”
“Zoey got you a big plushy; Mira got you a punny sweatshirt. I got you a snow globe,” Rumi added. Zoey nodded and gently placed the turtle plushy on the floor, with the sweatshirt and snow globe resting on top. She made sure it was close to the barricade, but not too close to make Y/N nervous. “Do you need anything?”
Y/N didn’t respond. She merely stayed silent as her body continued to shake. They exchanged a worried look before looking back at her.
“If you need anything, we’re right outside. We won’t bother you. We’ll close the doo—”
“No!” Y/N exclaimed, head shooting up to look at them. Her Y/E/C eyes were wide with panic. Her face, sunken from lack of sleep and nutrition. God, what had they done to her?
“Bellara said that they locked her in a room. Kept the lights off and took away her senses,” Zoey softly explained. Mira silently went to the door and Y/N tracked her movements. Zoey and Rumi did as well. Mira grabbed the door handle, then tore it from the door. Zoey gaped at the now broken door while Rumi flinched.
“No one is locking you in here. Not now, not ever. If you want privacy, then you can close the door, but YOU have the power to do so. No one else. No one will lock you up. Not again,” Mira firmly spoke. She turned and her eyes softened when she looked at Y/N. “No one will lock you up. I promise.”
Y/N choked on her tears and lowered her head to her knees. They listened to her cry but didn’t approach her. They couldn’t. They couldn’t scare her more than she was already.
“We’ll be right outside. If you need anything, just text us,” Rumi spoke. She looked around and found Y/N’s phone. She placed it beside their gifts before standing. “I hope you know we’ll keep you safe.”
Zoey kept her eyes on Y/N as she stood. She kept her eyes on the woman as she felt her heart shatter. She was in so much pain and there wasn’t anything they could do. “We’re here for you, Y/N. I promise.”
Zoey let Mira lead her outside and the three of them made their way to the living room. They collapsed on the couch, and Zoey let her tears fall. Mira and Rumi hugged her, holding her tightly between them. “S-she’s so scared!”
“We’ll help her.”
“We’ll make sure she knows she’s safe. We’ll help her.”
“I-I hope that’s enough,” Zoey stammered. She wasn’t sure how they were going to help Y/N. The woman in that room wasn’t the Y/N they knew. That woman was a shell of the woman they’d gotten to know. The things that had been done to her had broken her and that fearful look in her eyes had proved that. Y/N wasn’t the same and they were going to have to do everything in their power to help her.
synopsis: alysa came back for her sophomore year at UCLA, only to find herself crushing on her roommate
₰ zoe
Whoever decided to shedule shop week into a single week instead of several days, clearly hates seeing college freshmen be happy.
Also, apparently, Sy hated herself enough that she signed up for 10 classes at shop week, and would then have to reduce them to 5. Sounds like hell, right? It totaly was. Sy spent the entire week running through campus to get to each lecture hall on time, running solely on caffeine and orange tic-tac's.
Come friday afternoon, she unlocked the door of her dorm room, her key looking bare in her fingers as stepped into the room, closing the door behind her, and sighing, placing her head on the hard cold wood.
She was exhausted, physically and mentally.
She wanted to do anything besides college right now.
But this had been her ultimate goal for years.
To leave the confines of her new york aparment. To leave her mother's judgmenetal stares behind. To be free. To be unique.
To go out into the world.
But here she was, and suddenly, the world had never felt so small, as she turned around and looked at her dorm room.
She sighed, looking down at the folders with syllabus between her arms, and walked over to her desk, setting them down.
Checking her phone, the clock striking 5:27 pm, she remembered her mom yelling at her years ago.
"Mamá." A little zoe would be groaning, knees against her chest as she sat on the chair in front of her desk, staring at the history homework in front of her.
A woman, brown shaggy hair like Sienna's would shake her head, arms crossed. "No, I told you, you study, then do stupid things."
"Mamá, but I'm hungry—"
"No food." Her mother would scold, hands on her hips. "Get 100, then eat."
Years of harsh hours of studying, of endurance, had tormented Sienna, but if she had learnt one thing. It was to set her needs aside, and lock the fuck in.
₰ alysa
Alysa was getting tired of never talking with her roommate.
For an entire week, they hadn't spoken, at all, only, "don't forget your keys'," and 'try to eat today'.
To her credit, Sienna had been reading syllabus' and career requirements all week, only stopping to leave for classes, the bathroom, or sleep.
Alysa hoped that since it was Friday, Sienna had settled down, maybe she only had to pick her classes, then they could bond again.
Because Alysa was certaintly dying to get to know the girl. There was just something about Zoe.
₰ alysa
War flasbacks, Alysa mumbled to herself, as she opened the door and was once more faced with a sight to behold.
Zoe was sitting at her desk, her phone propped up against a waterbottle, a live clock on. Her laptop was open, the UCLA classes guidelines website open too. She was slightly hunched over, a notebook open next to her, a highlighter in hand as she read through another syllabus. A pair of black headphones over her cute shaggy hair, and a look on her face, Alysa physically felt like flinching.
It was the look of those girl's she'd seen before she was homeschooled, those girls who studied for hours and could recite entire textbooks, but could never remember where they'd left their will to live.
Alysa wondered, for a second, if she could interrupt, or let Zoe be, let her exist in that bubble she'd created around herself.
She closed the door, then headed over to her bed, and decided to just wait and see.
₰ alysa
She waited for three hours. Found herself staring at the girl highlighting syllabus' at 12pm.
Another hour went by, Alysa's brain slowed down to a nothing, and despite her concerns, she fell alseep at 1.20am.
₰
Though she expected, when she woke up, to find the girl fast asleep, the sight in front of her made her sleepy brain uncomfortable.
Sienna was still working.
Alysa glanced at the live clock Zoe still had on. 8am.
That meant, this girl had been working for over ten hours.
And still, she was leaning back in her seat, headphones still on, writing something down in a red notebook.
Alysa felt like she had to intervene.
So she did, a few minutes later, she walked over, and tapped the girl's shoulder.
Zoe didn't move, only hummed softly, still working. She was so focused, so concentrated, it almost made Alysa feel guilty about wanting to pull her away from it. Almost.
Alysa tapped Zoe's headphones, finally snapping the girl out of it.
"I'm assuming you've lost the concept of time?" She asked, as Zoe lowered her headphones.
She shook her head, looking at her notebook "Uh— no, I'm just— almost done."
"Okay, but, what are you even doing? I don't even do this much, and I'm a year ahead of you." Alysa said, sitting back down on her bed, trying to alleviate some of the girl's obvious stress.
"I'm mapping my classes." Zoe said, slightly sheepish.
"For the next decade?" Alysa joked.
Zoe kept quiet.
Alysa had to double back. "Wait, no kidding?"
"I mean, I was just checking what classes I would need to take and when, how many units they were worth, long term availability, career focus, I—" Zoe stopped, perhaps noticing the probable look on Alysa's face, one of both awe and confusion. "What?"
"You're.... really going for it." Alysa mumbled, taking a breath. "Wow, okay."
"I— like being prepared." The girl shrugged.
"And I like breakfast, so How long until you're done?"
"Two or five minutes? Uhm, why?"
"I'm going to take a shower and get ready. By the time I'm out. You should be done, you're going to shower, and whatever, then we're going out to this café a couple blocks down the main entrance." Alysa said, as she got a towel out and grabbed some clothes.
"I—"
Alysa looked back, now standing at the door of the room. She pointed a finger at the girl. "Not asking, Sienna, you need a break. Food, substenance, energy, the shit."
And as she walked back in, she couldn't help but catch the girl's hesitation, almost fear.
₰ zoe
It was nice of Alysa to get her out of the room, especially when Zoe had spent 13 hours mapping our her entire college academic experience and what classes would lead her to what qualifications for what career paths and.... a bunch of other stuff.
And don't get her wrong, Zoe really, really thought it was nice of her. But she didn't have the healthiest relationship with rewards.
Her mother had made sure of that.
"You want to watch meaningless videos." Her mother had answered, incredulous, as she stared into her phone.
"No, mamá, I want to be entertained." A young Zoe would smile, trying to convince her mother.
"Entertained? Be entertained with your studies! You think I am entertained when you do meaningless things?" The woman would scoff, shaking her head.
"But I've been studying all weekend, it's only fair—"
Her mother would explode. "I decide what's fair! Not you, you miserable child! Now go, study more. No dinner for you."
Simply put, she stopped believing hard work should be rewarded a long time ago, she thought hard work wasn't the extra, it was the bare minimum, the standard to achieve.
And food?
That was a whole different issue.
Still, she wrapped everything up, and decided just this once, she would comply with Alysa's idea. Just to let loose, understand some of the college experience, bond with her celebrity roommate, then focus. Just this once, she would relax, then she would lock in.
₰
By the time she got into the bathroom, Zoe's adrenaline had worn off, her body felt like it would pass out.
According to her useless weather app, it'd be slightly chilly outside, and to a New Yorker, slightly chilly California was distinct, so she brought jeans, a light blue tank top and a black jacket.
As she stepped into the shower, the contact of the hot water inmediately felt like heaven to Zoe.
She relaxed, washed her hair, and got rid of the stench of stress of her skin.
₰ alysa
"And the dead come back to life." Alysa joked, the reflex almost instinctive as Zoe walked out the bathroom.
She was wearing jeans, a baby blue tanktop and a jacket zipped up halfway.
But that wasn't what caught Alysa's attention.
Sienna's hair was in a ponytail, and though the hairstyle had nothing new, Alysa noticed a simple tattoo behind her left ear, a simple outlined arrow, the spear pointing upwards.
"I was just mapping—"
"Out your classes, yeah I know." Alysa finished. "Still, you have not slept, you have not eaten. I suggest, the biggest cup of coffee ever. Wait, how old are you?"
"Turning twenty soon."
She grinned, and spoke up again. "Jeez, that sucks, I was going to suggest getting you vodka or something."
Zoe laughed, and Alysa felt a small weight lift of her chest.
₰ zoe
Hanging out with Alysa was nice, she was surprisingly (not) in touch with reality despite being a celebrity.
They walked through campus, reached the main entrance and walked out into the streets. Alysa was wearing baggy jeans and a green "dope" hoodie, with the 'p' written the other way around.
They talked about everything and nothing, light conversation, nothing deep, about the weather, about Alysa's experience as a freshman, the sort.
As soon as they walked into the café, Zoe knew she would not be attending the place often, or she hoped so.
It was lively, and though she loved lively and energetic places, the smell of freshly baked pastries, chocolate and sugar, and the couples giggling in the corner made Zoe sigh.
It was the kind of environment her mother would despise.
But Alysa inhaled the scent of the room, and sighed profoundly.
"This is the life." She mumbled, nodding and looking around.
It made Zoe want to laugh, Alysa was so at peace with her life.
It almost made Zoe envious. Almost.
Just today. Zoe thought, then followed Alysa as she walked to the counter. Just for today.
₰ alysa
After quick small talk with the cashier, she finally decided it would be decent to actually place an order.
"One matcha latte, and a chocolate croissants please, also," She turned to Zoe, who had been staring at a couple in a booth in the corner laughing and holding hands. "Zoe?"
"Oh! Uhm—" The girl turned around, smiling politely at the cashier. "Chilled mocha frapuccino, please."
The cashier nodded, and tapped on his screen. "Great, anything else?"
"No, thank you." Zoe shook her head.
"You don't eat anything?" Alysa mumbled, frowning. She was seriously starting to understand why she had a gut feeling about Sienna. The good kind.
"No, not really—"
"Nonsense. Make that two chocolate croissants, please."
"That'll be right up." The cashier smiled, and added it on his screen.
Alysa saw Zoe digging through her purse, and tapped her card before the girl could react. "Thank you!" She told the cashier, then dragged the girl over to a booth.
"Wait, no, what—?" Zoe blinked, slipping into the seat in front of Alysa. "Don't do that, how much do I owe you?"
Alysa grinned, and tilted her head. "Nothing, my treat."
"There's no such thing as that." Zoe would frown.
"I promise, there is." Alysa said, holding up her pinky.
"You know if you break the promise I get to cut your pinky off." Zoe said, slightly amused.
"I do." Alysa nodded, because Amber had once told her.
"Okay." The girl said, then hooked her pinky with Alysa's.
₰ alysa
Alysa learned three main things that moring.
Sienna loved chocolate, it was in her mocha, and in the croissant she loved, though Alysa had to push her to eat it,
Sienna loved her mocha frappuccino or chilled frappuccino or whatever it was called, to the point where Alsya could catch the difference in her smile before and after,
Sienna was the most interesting person Alysa had met in a long while
She realized the girl was pensive, thoughtful, somehow quiet in nature but explosive in energy.
As they talked, Alysa had to ask about the tattoo.
"So, an arrow, that's an Apollo, sunlight, wow, thingy too?" Alysa spoke up, gesturing at Zoe's ear.
"Uhm, no, actually, it's for love." Zoe answered, her hand reaching up to her neck.
"Love?" Alysa had to blink in confusion.
"Uhm, yeah, I don't know if you notice, but it's not an arrow, it's supposed to be one of Eros' like, lovestruck spells." She explained, playing with a strand of her hair.
Alysa's eyes zeroed in on the tattoo.
"Oh. Oh."
"Why love though? Is there an actual someone you haven't told me about?" Alysa joked, and though she really didn't find herself that interested in Zoe, she wanted to keep the field clear.
"No, no, I just really, really want to find love." The girl shrugged.
Alysa laughed, then had to ask. "How is it your mom won't let you dye your hair but let you get a tattoo?"
"She doesn't know, I'd wear concelear and my hair down." Zoe mumbled, fidgeting again with her hair.
"When'd you get it?"
"Uhm, a year ago, maybe?"
"Walking around with your hair down for a year. Jeez, I could never. Your mom sounds super strict."
₰ zoe
Your mom sounds super strict.
Hadn't Zoe heard that same phrase, thousands of times, and convinced herself they were lying?
Your mom's abusive. You cannot feel free living like that. Won't she let you live a little? She's not supposed to do that.
She'd heard everything, in every shape, way, and form, but when Alysa said it, it sounded different, not pitiful, not a factual observation, not an accusation, not a figure of speech, just something. Her mom sounded super strict, she didn't make it sound bad, deadly, lethal or good. She just said it.
Your mom sounds super strict.
"Fun fact, I was born from a surrogate, so I'm immune to your mom jokes." Alsya suddenly said, taking a sip of her matcha.
Zoe had to laugh.
She and Alysa would get on just fine, she decided, maybe even more.
₰ zoe
The saturday morning breakfasts became a regular thing, and Zoe actually sheduled some of her studying around it, just how she noticed Alysa moved her saturnay mid-evening training to a different hour.
It was nice, for the both of them, she thought, to talk and relax for a couple hours over sugar and caffeinated drinks.
Alysa got her to try different sandwiches and sugarized pastries, it was fun. More than fun. Sienna enjoyed the routine.
₰ alysa
Alysa's gut feeling had been right, Sienna was fun, so much fun. She was interesting, curious, witty, slightly quiet, vulnerable and honesty but quirky and also slightly annoying in that way that made Alysa's heart race.
Even as she practiced her programs, and ran laps around the rink, she kept thinking back to their saturday breakfasts, and her heart would race and she would either skate the most incredible run through of her life, or she would stumble and slip on her toe pick.
She was too hyped.
The last time she'd felt this excited, she had been quitting figure skating, piercing her skin, dyeing her hair, then returning to skating and dyeing her hair again
Her body needed a way to fight the hype, wait, scratch that. Her body needed a way to accept the hype.
So she decided to take drastic decisions.
₰ zoe
"We should dye your hair."
Zoe's brain lagged, taking longer to catch up than it usually would. She looked up from the essay draft she had been writing for her initiation class, blinked twice and Alysa, and took way too long to answer.
"Come again?"
"You told me, like, five weeks ago, that you'd like to dye your hair." Alysa set, closing the door and setting her bag and stuff down on her bed. She had a white bag in hand, and Sienna could vaguely see the outline of hair dye boxes.
Zoe still didn't understand, but she nodded. "I, did, yes."
"What color?"
"I don't—"
"Zoe, you've definitely thought of it. What color?" Alysa said, softer, rummaging through the white bag.
"Red.... the brownish kind." She mumbled, after a second.
Alysa hummed, then picked out two boxes of hair dye. "Peekaboo, right?"
"Yeah, how do you even know?" Zoe said, a small smile on her lips, as she pushed her papers and notes away. She wasn't going to get anything done today.
"I stalk your pinterest."
"Wow, okay."
Alysa only shrugged, setting both boxes on Zoe's desk before pulling out another one. "You've got good vibes going on."
Zoe smiled, more genuine this time. "Huh, thanks."
"So, these are semi permanent, and I think, if we mix some of the red, the brown and black," Alysa said, sitting on the floor in front of Zoe, gesturing at the three coloured boxes. "We'll get a nice color. It should stay a month or two, tops, then wash out."
"You know how to dye hair?" Zoe said, then laughed at the look on Alysa's face as she gestured her blond halo rings.
Alysa grinned. "I mean, I used to do my own, these are from a hairdresser in the bay area, but I used to dye my hair."
"So I can trust you won't kill my hair with bleach?"
"Bleach makes it more permanent, and that's what we don't want. Because in case this is too much for you, we switch it out."
"You lost me at bleach." Zoe said, waving her words away. "I trust you."
Because truth be told, she did.
She trusted her Olympic champion roommate.
₰ alysa
Alysa loved Sienna's hair.
It was one of the very first things she noticed about the girl, her shaggy short brown waves, and the way it was also mostly straight, it was weird, and Alysa liked weird.
And so the entire evening, they laughed, tried to prevent the dye on Alysa's gloves from getting onto the walls of the bathroom, the bathroom tiles, and on the sink.
Zoe was now sitting on the bathroom counter, and they'd just been vibing to music for a while.
Alysa had learned Zoe's music taste was pretty much alternative too, much more punk and rock-y than Alysa's, which was always a mix of indie artists and underground sounds.
As they listened to 'thick skull', by paramore, one of Zoe's apparent favorites, Alysa couldn't help but admire Sienna.
She was pretty.
Not the pretty kind Alysa had gotten used to in figure skating when she was younger.
Not the pretty kind she realized she crushed on during her two year long retirement.
And not the kind she found when she started finding herself.
A pretty that seemed refreshing, but also tightening, in the sense that Alysa's heart would stop sometimes, or it would speed up, and she could almost feel her blood rushing in her ears.
The best part about Zoe being pretty?
Her personality was even prettier.
She tended to smile small, but when her most genuine smiles were teeth and all, and the very corner of her eyes would crinkle.
She laughed in this way that was impossible to map or recall, only leaving Alysa wishing she'd hear it again.
She was insanely dedicated, sometimes refusing to back out of study groups with people in her class (Alysa overheard the late night calls), just because someone else backed out.
She was too persistent too, and would not listen to anyone, and Alysa often felt like she had to bribe her to come back down to earth and behave humanlike.
She was weirdly authentic too, the kind that one could only find after years of repression.
Which led Alysa back to her main question about Zoe.
She was bisexual, sure, but was she really? In everyone's eyes?
In her mother's eyes?
She'd noticed. Alysa truly had. Whenever someone talked about their parents, especially about their mothers, Sienna would shrink, and shrug, merely mumbling some short sentence about not being close to her mother.
Alysa ended up assuming, after everything she'd learned, that Zoe's mother wasn't very supportive.
She saw how, even when she was free, Zoe would inmediately hang up on her mother, but take her father's phone calls without hesitation.
And for some reason, that rebellion and defiance, even if maybe just Alysa's assumption, made her even prettier.
Even now, seeing her simply humming the words to the song and swinging her feet on the counter as they waited for her hair to come out, she looked really pretty.
And Alysa was never one to shy away from her thoughts. So,
"You're like really pretty." Alysa blurted out.
Zoe's head snapped up so fast, Alysa laughed, covering her lips in a slightly shocked expression.
Her cheeks were now tinted a dark pink, and Alysa had never seen Sienna so caught off guard, so flustered.
"You— I — come again?" She said, blinking rapidly at Alysa, as if she was trying to catch up.
"I said," Alysa said, slower this time. "You're like really fucking pretty."
"That's.... kind, thank you." Zoe answered, blushing and looking down at her feet, but for some reason, her answer felt so rehearsed, practiced, like she wan't used to compliments or being flattered.
Alysa lowered her head, from where she sat on the closed toilet. "I mean it."
The way Zoe's eyes quickly glanced away, and the color on her cheeks darkened, and the way Alysa's heart jumped at the sight, only confirmed one thing.
Alysa had caught feelings.
Alysa was college crushing.
₰ zoe
Forget being stressed.
Alysa being much more attatched to Zoe these past few weeks was intense.
Maybe she'd always been like, this, and Sy had never noticed.
But that wasn't a huge issue.
The issue was trying to watch Alysa's figure skating programs, without looking like a creep, but also not getting caught by Alysa, because it was, evidently, slightly creepy.
So one Wednesday afternoon, when Alysa had rink practice, Zoe sighed and flopped on her bed, opening her lap top.
She had a specfic playlist on youtube for figure skating.
Evgenia Medvedva, Yuna Kim, Sasha Trusova, Alysa, Wakaba Higuchi, and some other skaters.
She scrolled through the videos, and opened one of her favorites. Alysa's first rendition of the McArthur Program, before the version she skated at Worlds or the Olympics, one where the sountrack and jump layout was distintctive.
The first one Zoe had watched of Alysa after she came back.
And so, as the hour passed, and Sy lost track of time, all she did was watch her roomate competing on youtube videos.
But not just that, warm ups and training too, because Zoe was obsessed with how Alysa cracked her knuckles as she ran laps, obsessed with how she stretched her neck before competing.
She watched her triple axels, her attempts at quad lutz's.
And even when she knew all the competitions, all the jump cues, by heart, she kept yelling at her screen.
The ending of her McArthurt free skate. "Biellman, biellman, biellman, and point at the sky!"
The middle of the promise program. "Spin, spin, spin, lift, double axel! Yess!"
The end of her lady gaga free skate. "Camera, look at the camera!"
Her triple axel's in pratice. "Arms in, unwrap that leg."
She was always so hyperfocused on Alysa, she hadn't even noticed the key turning in the door, when she was humming along to the ending of Alysa's original bad romance free skate, at the lombardia trophy in '24.
"Wow."
Zoe's attention snapped to the figure in the door, shutting her lap top close as she turned to look at Alysa, her hand still on the knob, and a grin on her lips as she looked back at her.
"I mean, I know you said you were a fan, but this feels stalkerish level."
"I'm just catching up." Zoe groaned, suddenly defensive as Alysa laughed, closing the door and stepping inisde.
"On what? Pretty girl, I live two feet away from you."
Pretty girl.
Over the past few weeks, Alysa had taken to calling her that, on top of everything else. Usually, it only made Zoe slightly flustered, she was getting used to it.
But now, when she was already embarrassed? It only made matters worse. "On, stuff, I mean, preparation for when they announce what grand prix events you're competing in June."
Alysa pointed at herself. "What? They announce that in June?"
"How do I know this and you don't?" Zoe said, feeling lighter.
"Mmm, maybe 'cause you're stalking me?"
"First of all, you stalk my pinterest and my tiktok reposts all the time, I notice, Second of all, in my defense, I'm catching up on Ami, Trusova, Petrosian and Isabeau, just like, it's not just you?"
"Who's your all time favorite?" Alysa said, diverging the topic as she sat down.
"Evgenia Medvedeva," Sienna said, without missing a beat. "Love her to death. I'm still depressed she didn't win gold in pyeonchang or make the team for beijng."
"Y'know when I was younger—"
"You were the american Medvedva, I remember." Zoe nodded, smiling.
Because how could she not, she'd freaked out over the comparison for too long to not remember.
"Wow, you're a huge fan, then?"
"You're a great skater, leave me alone!" Zoe groaned, burrying her face into her pillow.
Alysa only laughed, then spoke up again. "You should come by the rink sometime."
"No way." She snorted, shaking her head.
"Why not?" Alysa raised an eyebrow.
"One, new scenarios make me nervous. Second, I'm a fan, not a friend in this context, I shouldn't be getting any special privilege." She said, opening her lap top again.
"Mhm, fair enough. My offer still stands though."
"Who's your favorite?" Zoe asked, deciding to ask whatever she thought.
"Probably Yuna Kim, or Michelle Kwan." Alysa said.
"Want to watch Wakaba Higuchi skate?" Zoe suggested, scooting over on her bed.
"Love that, also, I've seen her live multiple times, y'know?" Alysa said, sliding in next to her.
"Humble, much?" Zoe snorted.
"Obviously. I recommend the elle gouding one."
"The short?" She asked, opening her youtube playlist again.
"That's the one." Alysa hummed.
And as they spent the entire afternoon watching skaters cry and fall, and land combinations, Sienna felt strangely close to Alysa. More than just physically, emotionally too.
Technically, skating was Alysa's world.
But fangirling over edges and crying at wobbly triple axels behind a screen?
That was Sienna's world.
And she was glad to welcome Alysa into it.
₰ alysa
"I still don't know how you do this." Sienna was groaning from the bathroom, trying to mix her hair dye into a bowl.
"You're doing okay! Just stir and add the dissolvent, it'll probably be fine." Alysa called out, stepping back into the room.
She'd only walked over to her desk to get her phone to play music for the vibes, but as she stepped in, she ehard soft vibrating on Zoe's desk, an incoming call.
She made the mistake of picking up.
"Yeah?"
"Hello? Who is this?"
Alysa had never heard a voice so cold in her life. "Alysa Liu, are you looking for Zo— Sienna?"
"This is her mother. Please pass her the phone."
Alysa wasn't so sure Zoe would appreciate that. "I think her hand's are busy right now, but I can take a message." She offered.
"No, that will simply not do. Put her on the phone, now."
Alysa was tempted to hung up, but she didn't want to worsen the situation she had started.
She muted the mic on Zoe's phone, then walked over to the bathroom. "Pretty girl, I swear, this was not on purpose."
₰ zoe
Zoe blinked at the look on Alysa's face, then glanced at the phone she was holding.
Clear phone case and a volleyball polaroid.
Not Alsya's. Sienna's.
She glanced at the screen.
The contact name.
Mamá.
Zoe's blood ran cold.
"I—"
"The mic is muted. I told her you were busy, but she insisted." Alysa said, slowly, strangely calm for how Zoe was feeling.
She'd spent so long, all these months, managing to avoid her mother completely, only quick texts, excusing herself with her mother's favorite justification, her studies. Her mother's only updates had only been coming in through her father, with whom Zoe talked with often.
But as she stared at the muted screen, she shook her head. "No, uhm, oh gods."
She took a second to breath, took the gloves off, and stared at her hands. "Oh, gamoto." She mumbled, staring at the bowl of dye.
"What, what's wrong?" Alysa said, setting the phone on the counter and staring at Sienna. "The dye won't dry, if that's what you're—"
"I haven't told her." Sinna shook her head.
"About, the hair?"
"Yeah."
"She probably doesn't know?"
Zoe's heart was beating out of her chest. "What if she does?"
"She probably doesn't."
Sienna spiraled. "But what if she does? Oh, di inmortales, she's going to send me back to New York, and I'll be miserable and coped up again—"
"She won't, breathe."
Sienna's eyes widened. "Oh, gamoto. What if she knows I'm bi? F—fuuck."
"You— you're not out to your parents?" Alysa said, blinking at Sienna.
Zoe shooked her head, fast. "No, I only told my dad. No one back home knows."
"Wow, wait then—"
"Sienna! I will not tolerate your ignoring any longer! Pick up!"
Her mother spoke, and Sienna froze completely.
She could recognize her mama's voice anywhere.
Sienna took a breath, and picked up the phone, unmutting the speaker and lowering the volume stepping back into the room and leaving Alsya alone in the bathroom.
"Yes, mamá?"
"You haven't answered my calls."
"I have been busy, mamá, studying, making sure money doesn't go to waste." Sienna said, the answer almost robotic to her.
"No time for your mother?"
Sienna thought of Alysa consuming her entire shedule.
"No, mamá, I have just been busy."
"Good, you are not being ridiculous then?"
Sienna thought of Alysa dyeing her hair and watching stupid shows with her.
"No, mamá."
"You are not eating stupid food?
Sienna thought of Alysa making her try Californian sweets and desserts, the chocolate croissants, the matcha ice cream.
"No, mamá."
"No boys and no relationships?"
Sienna thought of Alysa, in a way that shocked her, because it went beyond frienship, but answered quick. "Of course not, mamá."
"Good. You should answer my calls more."
"I will do my best, mamá."
"Good, Now study. Make mamá proud."
"Of course, mamá."
It ended as quick as it begun, and the knot in Zoe's chest loosened, but it was still there.
She threw her phone on her bed, then she backed herself against the wall, and slid down, taking a deep breath.
No time for her mother? She certainly didn't.
No being ridiculous? She was being way more than ridiculous.
No eating stupid food? She'd gained weight, that she was still trying to loose.
No boys and no relationships? Well, "no boys", was right. No relationships though?
She didn't have one, but...
Then there was Alysa.
What was even going on there?
She could feel the staring, the soft spoken tones and the smiled that bloomed whenever Zoe laughed with her.
And Sienna couldn't even pretend she didn't like it.
Because it felt so nice, to have someone pay attention.
But Alysa was Alysa.
She was everything.
And Sienna was, just Sienna.
She was nothing.
Not even brave enough to tell her mother who she really was. Not brave enough to try out for the UCLA volleyball team. Not outspoken enough to materialize her feelings for Alysa....
Her feelings for Alysa.
Because the truth was that she did have feelings for Alysa.
It wasn't love, or was it?
Half a second later, Sienna snapped back to reality.
"I finished mixing the dye." Alysa said, standing in the bathroom doorway. "If you still want to retouch the strands. Though, I can still add in other tones, like, say, redder?"
Zoe could only smile.
Alysa new how to cheer her up. "Sure, why not?"
"Good, don't want you to stay plain, pretty girl. Now c'mon, I'm trying to figure out if we play Eminem or Zara Larrson." Alysa said, moving back into the bathroom.
Zoe laughed, as she got up and slowly walked over.
She glanced back at her phone on her bed, then at Alysa mumbling the words to some Eminem rap beat.
Zoe was in for it.
She really was.
She'd heard of this, situationships and stuff in college.
But she never thought she'd actually be college crushing.
₰ some stories don't need a narrator₰
In the dead of the night, nearing midnight, two girls both slept in the same room, each in their own bed.
However, none of them slept.
A girl with a shiny smiley piercing above her teeth was staring at the wall next to her bed, her back turned against the girl with brown and red dyed hair, in the opposite side of the room.
Said girl was laying the exact same way, her back against the pierced girl, turned towards the wall. She stared down at the capybara plushie between her arms.
Almost one after the other, they seemed to realize the exact same thing, in the exact same sequence.
They sighed, shut their eyes close.
But when they did, all they could see was each other.
A pierced girl with halo coloured hair.
A greek girl with a small but charming smile.
And nearly a second after seeing each other's face, they both had to admit to themseleves once more.
They were truly, and undoubtedly, college crushing.
₰
/justagirl: ya'll, this took me DAYS to write, 'cuz i was soo busy with school and stuff, but i'd rather take months to write a paragraph than to ask chat gpt or stupid ai to write it for me, so, hope y'all like it, this took me soo long. as always, this is absolutely not proofread. HAHAHA, anyways, also, please notice my details, i work hard on them. finally, this is part 2 of 3, and i'm only doing three, but will maybe revive the characters once in a while for like a random day in their lives or smth
hope ya'll liked it!!
It seems like we need to make a blood sacrifice to the football gods if we want to win the UWCL finals, in 2024 it was Ona in Bilbao, this year it’s Mapi in Oslo. Last year none of our players bled and that’s why we didn’t get the trophy.
SUMMARY — you find out Alysa made you a friendship bracelet with her number on it, and you can't help but text her about it.
WARNING — none
WORD COUNT — 3.5K
PT.1 PT.2 PT.3 PT.4
MASTERLIST
The noise of the Kia Forum was still buzzing long after the concert ended.
It wasn't music anymore. It was that chaotic mix of thousands of people leaving at the same time—excited yelling, rushed footsteps, stage crews tearing things down, overlapping conversations echoing through the arena halls.
And in the middle of all that, Alysa desperately wished she could go back four hours in time and slap herself.
"That was kinda cute," Madison said for the fifth time, trying not to laugh.
"No, no, no," Amber immediately lifted a hand. "That was clinically insane. Different thing."
"Amber!" Ellie protested, even though she was grinning.
Alysa sank deeper into the white couch in the VIP lounge and covered her face with both hands.
"I wanna die."
"You can't die yet," Isabeau replied calmly. "We need to see how this ends."
That made Amber laugh so hard she almost spilled her drink.
The VIP area was lit with warm, dim lighting. Outside, they could still hear pieces of the stage getting dismantled, but inside everything looked ridiculously fancy: glass tables, untouched catering trays, overpriced bottled water, fresh flowers, giant couches, and the constant hum of the AC.
And there they were.
Amber Glenn sprawled out like she was watching the best reality show of her life.
Isabeau Levito sitting elegantly with her legs crossed, studying Alysa like a scientist observing a deeply concerning phenomenon.
Ellie Kam trying to be the only compassionate person in the group. And Madison Chock stuck between helping and laughing her ass off.
"In my defense..." Alysa muttered from behind her hands, "it sounded smart at the time."
"At the time?" Amber repeated. "Alysa, you wrote your number on a bracelet."
"The bracelet was cute!"
"And then you tried giving it to a literal global pop star in front of twenty thousand people."
"Because I had a plan!"
Everyone stared at her.
Alysa slowly lowered her hands.
"...sort of."
Amber leaned forward immediately.
"You had absolutely no plan."
"Well technically I did."
"What was it?"
Alysa hesitated.
"Hope fate did something."
Ellie accidentally snorted.
Madison covered her mouth.
Even Isabeau cracked a tiny smile.
"Oh my God," Amber said. "You're worse than I thought."
Alysa groaned in embarrassment and buried her face into the pillow again.
It had all started before the concert.
The bracelet had seemed like an innocent idea. Cute, even. She'd spent almost an hour making it: silver beads, tiny stars, letters lined up carefully.
And the beads with her number on them.
Not because she actually thought it would work.
Well.
Maybe a little.
But mostly because she had a massive crush on you and the whole romantic idea sounded adorable at two in the morning.
What she hadn't considered was one very important detail: how the hell she was actually supposed to give it to you.
Because imagining cinematic scenarios in her head was one thing.
Actually getting to the Kia Forum and realizing there was:
Security.
Barricades.
Staff.
Thousands of people.
And exactly zero realistic opportunities to get near you without being tackled by a six-foot security guard.
So for almost the entire concert, the bracelet stayed hidden in her jacket pocket while she silently suffered.
And then somehow—through some absurd, incomprehensible chain of events— you found out about it.
That was the real problem.
She had no idea how.
Nobody did.
But around forty minutes after the concert ended, while they were hanging in the VIP area thanks to some of Madison's connections, Alysa's phone buzzed.
At first she barely paid attention.
Until she saw the name.
And felt her soul leave her body.
"What happened?" Ellie asked.
Alysa had gone completely still.
"...no."
"What?"
"No."
"Alysa?" Amber practically snatched the phone out of her hands.
And then she screamed.
A real scream.
Loud.
High-pitched.
Dramatic.
"She texted you!?"
Madison nearly choked on water.
Isabeau's eyes widened for the first time all night.
Ellie immediately tried grabbing the phone too.
"Let me see!"
"Amber!"
But Amber was already reading the message out loud with full telenovela narrator energy.
"I heard somebody made a bracelet for me and now I kinda need to see it because apparently there's a story behind it."
Amber slowly looked up.
The entire lounge exploded.
Ellie fell backward laughing.
Madison covered her face.
Isabeau was red trying not to laugh.
And Alysa...
Alysa wanted to spontaneously evaporate.
"Who snitched on me?" she asked in horror.
"That does not matter!" Amber was literally bouncing on the couch. "What matters is it worked!"
"It did not work!"
"She DM'd you on Instagram! That is literally the definition of working!"
"That wasn't the plan!"
"Then what was the plan?"
"I don't know!"
Madison was fully crying from silent laughter now.
Ellie finally managed to grab the phone and reread the message. And the more she looked at it, the worse the situation became.
Because it didn't sound cold.
It didn't sound like some copy-paste celebrity response.
It sounded genuinely curious.
And that was absolutely destroying Alysa.
"Oh, you're done for," Ellie said through laughter. "Look at this. She's actually interested."
"Don't say that," Alysa whispered, horrified.
"No, seriously, listen," Amber leaned closer again. "The important question here is—"
She paused dramatically.
"Did you answer yet?"
All four of them looked at her.
Alysa looked away.
Amber's mouth slowly dropped open.
"Alysa."
"..."
"ALYSA."
"I panicked."
"What does that mean?!"
"It means I closed Instagram!"
The whole room lost it again. Even Isabeau was openly laughing now.
"There's no way," Madison wheezed.
"You closed the app?!"
"I didn't know what to do!"
Amber collapsed backward dramatically.
"I have never seen somebody sabotage themselves that fast."
"She's nervous," Ellie said, trying to defend her.
"I would be nervous too!" Madison admitted. "I'd literally pass out."
"Exactly, thank you."
"But it's still hilarious."
"Madison."
"Sorry."
She was not sorry.
Alysa grabbed a pillow and threw it at her.
Madison caught it while still laughing.
And in the middle of all the chaos, Alysa's phone buzzed again.
The entire lounge went silent.
Completely silent.
Alysa slowly looked down at the screen.
Another message from you.
Amber made a strangled noise.
"Open it," Isabeau whispered immediately.
"I can't."
"Open it."
"I can't breathe."
"That's not relevant right now," Amber said. "Open the message!"
With shaking hands, Alysa unlocked her phone.
The second message was short.
"so was the bracelet just an urban legend?"
For one second, nobody spoke.
And then—
"OOOOOOOOOH!" Amber screamed.
Madison literally fell onto the floor laughing.
Ellie started smacking the couch in excitement.
Isabeau covered her mouth, shocked.
And Alysa felt like she was about to die right there. Because now the problem wasn't the bracelet anymore.
The problem was that you were very clearly having fun with this.
Alysa kept staring at the screen like her phone had suddenly turned into a live explosive device.
The message was still there.
Small.
Simple.
Flirty.
"Text her back," Amber said immediately.
"I can't."
"Yes, you can."
"No, physically I cannot."
"Your fingers work perfectly fine."
"My brain doesn't."
Ellie was already pressed against her side trying to analyze every micro-expression on her face.
"She's going into shock."
"She's been in love for months, that's different," Madison corrected while settling back onto the couch.
"I am not in love."
All four of them looked at her.
Alysa paused.
"...maybe a little."
Amber let out another victorious scream.
"She admitted it!"
"Keep your voice down!"
"Why? You think she's gonna hear us from backstage?"
And honestly, considering how the hell you'd somehow found out about the bracelet in the first place, nothing felt impossible anymore.
That was still the detail haunting Alysa.
Because she hadn't talked to you.
She never got close to you.
She hadn't even held the bracelet up during the concert because she was too scared of embarrassing herself.
So the only possible explanation was that somebody talked.
Or somebody saw something.
Or the universe had personally decided to destroy her emotional stability.
"I still wanna know who snitched," she muttered.
"Probably someone on staff saw the bracelet," Madison said. "Or overheard you hyperventilating before the encore."
"I was not hyperventilating."
Isabeau raised an eyebrow.
"Alysa, you said, 'If she looks directly at me, I'm gonna disintegrate'."
"Because it was true."
"And then you hid your face in my shoulder for like two songs," Ellie added.
"Yeah, that really doesn't help your case," Amber commented.
Alysa dropped backward again in defeat.
The VIP lounge still carried the distant echo of the event ending. People walking outside. Staff members coming and going. Faint laughter. The metallic clanging of equipment being taken apart.
But inside that room, time basically stopped around her phone.
Because you still hadn't gotten a reply.
And apparently that was killing the entire group.
"It's worse now because she knows you saw the message," Madison said.
"Don't say that!"
"How long has it even been?" Ellie asked.
Amber checked the time.
"Three minutes."
Alysa's eyes widened.
"Only three!? Feels like thirty years."
It really did feel like thirty years.
Especially because her brain kept replaying every catastrophic possibility.
Maybe you thought she was weird.
Maybe you regretted texting her.
Maybe you expected a normal response and instead accidentally discovered a girl incapable of functioning like an actual human being.
"Okay," Ellie finally said, taking control of the situation. "We're gonna solve this rationally."
"Good luck with that," Amber muttered.
Ellie ignored her.
"First: she is very obviously interested in talking to you."
Alysa made a strangled little noise.
"Second: the message was funny. Which means she's trying to make you feel comfortable."
"Or she's making fun of me."
"Flirting and teasing are not mutually exclusive," Madison said.
"Madison!"
"What? It's true."
Meanwhile, Isabeau kept watching the phone with suspicious levels of calm.
"I think you should send something simple."
"Like what?"
"Something natural."
"I don't know how to act natural."
"That is also true," Amber admitted.
Alysa shot her a murderous glare.
Amber smiled without a shred of regret.
"Listen," she said, leaning forward. "You've got two options."
She raised one finger.
"You either keep ignoring her and spend the rest of your life wondering what would've happened."
She raised a second finger.
"Or you answer and maybe end up married."
"Amber!"
"I'm thinking long-term here."
Ellie was trying not to laugh again.
Madison had already completely lost the battle. And somehow, unbelievably, Isabeau looked like the most reasonable person in the room.
"You could just tell the truth," she suggested. "Something like, 'The bracelet is real, I just got embarrassed trying to give it to you'."
Everyone went quiet for a second. Because honestly... it was a good idea.
Simple.
Honest.
Cute.
And that made it infinitely more terrifying.
"That sounds way too vulnerable," Alysa whispered.
"Because it is," Ellie said softly.
Alysa's expression shifted slightly.
And for the first time since everyone started clowning her, the real nerves showed again.
Because yeah, she was embarrassed.
Very embarrassed.
But underneath all the humiliation was something worse: hope.
That was the real problem.
If you hadn't answered, the whole thing would've stayed a ridiculous inside joke between friends.
The secret bracelet.
The impossible crush.
End of story.
But you answered. And not only did you answer— you sounded genuinely interested.
And that made everything feel dangerously real.
Alysa swallowed hard.
"What if she thinks I'm intense?"
Amber looked directly at her.
"You made a bracelet with your number on it for a celebrity."
"Amber!"
"I'm saying we passed the 'intense' stage hours ago."
Madison started laughing so hard she nearly fell over again.
Ellie finally shoved a pillow over her face.
"Stop helping her spiral."
"I am trying!"
"You're terrible at it."
The phone was still in Alysa's hands.
The conversation open.
Your messages sitting there above.
The empty little text bubble below waiting for a response.
And the longer she stared at it, the more nervous she got.
"What if I type something weird?"
"Then you send another message after," Isabeau said.
"What if I sound desperate?"
"You already gave her a bracelet with your number on it," Amber reminded her.
"I'm gonna hit you."
"But lovingly."
Alysa took a deep breath.
Exhaled.
Inhaled again.
Then finally started typing.
All four girls immediately leaned toward her like emotional vultures.
"Don't look."
Nobody moved.
"I'm serious."
Amber literally adjusted herself for a better view of the screen.
"This is a group project now."
"It is not."
"It is for us."
Alysa finished typing one sentence.
Read it.
Immediately deleted it.
"Too desperate."
She typed another.
Deleted it again.
"Too dry."
Another.
"Too weird."
Another.
"Why did I type 'LOL'? I sound psychotic."
"Everyone uses 'lol,'" Madison said.
"Yeah, but I used four L's. That communicates instability."
SUMMARY — you hit a point where you just can't take being at the awards gala anymore, so you slip away to the bathroom to hide from the crowd, but a certain Olympic athlete follows you in and helps calm you down.
WARNING — social anxiety/agoraphobia
WORD COUNT — 3.7K
The Dolby Theatre glowed under an endless storm of white lights and camera flashes. From the outside, the place looked like it was built out of glass and noise. Inside, it was even worse. The air smelled like expensive perfume, hairspray, and that constant buzz of hundreds of voices blending together until it became one giant headache.
You smiled.
Or at least, it looked like you did.
Practice had taught you how to barely tighten your lips, tilt your head just enough, and hold eye contact long enough for the pictures to come out good. Nobody noticed the way your fingers dug into the fabric of your dress. Nobody saw how hard your heart was slamming against your ribs.
This wasn't new to you. You'd been in the music industry for years. You practically grew up playing tiny stages, summer festivals, and local interviews where nobody remembered your name afterward.
But fame hit late—and all at once. Two years ago, you could barely fill mid-sized venues. Now your face showed up in magazines and TikTok edits because Taylor Swift had picked you as one of the openers for the U.S. leg of her tour.
That changed everything.
Streams exploded. Labels started chasing you down. Journalists suddenly wanted to know every little thing about you: what you ate for breakfast, who you listened to, why all your songs sounded so damn sad.
And then the invitations started showing up.
Award shows. Galas. After-parties.
Events where everybody somehow seemed to know exactly how to exist except you.
Your agent kept insisting you had to go.
"It's good for your image."
Always the same line.
Like an image could hold itself together when you could barely breathe in a crowded room.
The worst part was that you didn't even trust him anymore. He was the same guy who told you a few weeks ago you could still perform even though you were half sick and losing your voice. "Nobody's gonna notice," he’d said.
People noticed.
You noticed too.
You felt your voice crack right in the middle of a bridge and had to fake a smile while internally you just wanted the stage to swallow you whole.
So by the time that night started, you were already exhausted.
Every conversation inside the Dolby Theatre felt fake as hell. Laughter too loud. Hugs too rehearsed. People congratulating each other while secretly checking who was watching.
You stayed seated at your table, spine straight, untouched drink in front of you. You answered when necessary. Smiled on cue. Clapped when they announced winners.
But inside, you were counting the minutes.
Massive screens flooded the room with gold and red light. Transition music shook through the seats. Somewhere near the stage, somebody let out this ridiculously sharp laugh that made you flinch.
You took a deep breath.
Once.
Twice.
Didn't help.
The anxiety had been crushing your chest all night like an invisible hand. You felt overheated under the lights even though the theater was freezing from the AC. Your jaw hurt from clenching. Your shoulders were locked tight.
And the worst part was feeling trapped.
Because leaving early would mean questions.
Headlines.
"Why did she leave the ceremony?"
"Trouble with…"
People were always ready to make shit up.
So you stayed.
Until you couldn't anymore.
It happened during one of the last awards of the night. You slipped away from the table quietly. Nobody seemed to notice. Or maybe they did, but they were too busy staring at the stage.
You walked fast between rows of seats, avoiding eye contact, random greetings, and the camera flashes still chasing anyone even remotely famous.
The hallway outside the main room was darker.
Quieter.
But not quiet enough.
You could still hear the muffled echo of the ceremony through the closed doors. Applause. Music. The presenter's voice somewhere in the distance.
You walked into the bathroom without really thinking about it.
The white mirror lights felt harsh immediately. Marble everywhere—perfect, cold, way too clean. The sound of your heels against the floor disappeared once you reached the back of the room.
And then finally, silence.
Or something close to it.
You leaned against the sink and shut your eyes.
Your chest rose and fell way too fast. You pulled off your earrings because suddenly they felt unbearably heavy. Then your hands gripped the edge of the counter like you needed to hold onto something real.
There were no cameras in there.
No reporters.
No music executives trying to decide whether you were still profitable.
Just you.
And exhaustion.
Your makeup was still flawless. From the outside, nobody would've guessed you were seconds away from falling apart. Maybe that was the weirdest thing about fame—learning how to break down quietly.
You slowly slid down onto the floor of the farthest stall, not even caring that the expensive dress spread across the tiles.
Minutes passed.
Maybe longer.
You didn't check your phone. You didn't want to read texts asking where you were. And you definitely didn't want to go back out there.
Because outside, everybody else seemed built for this.
You weren't.
And you were starting to realize maybe you never would be.
Alysa Liu still hadn't fully gotten used to rooms like that.
Even after months of magazine covers, interviews, and ad campaigns following her two Olympic gold medals, she still felt slightly out of place at events like this.
The Dolby Theatre looked like it had been built for people who were used to being watched every second of the day. Legendary actors. Musicians who'd been selling out stadiums before Alysa even learned how to skate. Producers surrounded by assistants orbiting them like tiny planets around something important.
And then there was her.
Sitting at a table way too elegant for comfort, wearing a dress that still felt borrowed somehow, with a smile she'd practiced in the hotel mirror because she still had no clue what she was supposed to do when cameras kept pointing at her nonstop.
Fame had hit her all at once.
Like a damn hurricane.
That's exactly what it felt like.
A few months ago, she was just Alysa: the girl who spent hours training, throwing her hair up in a messy rush before stepping onto the ice, someone who felt more comfortable at a freezing rink at six in the morning than on any red carpet on earth.
Now people said her name like she'd always belonged there.
Like this world naturally fit her
But it didn't.
That's why she spent most of the gala watching instead of talking. Listening to other people's conversations. Looking around at tables full of celebrities who seemed perfectly designed to exist under spotlights.
And then Alysa noticed you.
Right away.
Not because you were trying to draw attention to yourself or anything, but because there was something about the way you sat that was impossible to ignore if someone knew how to recognize nervousness hiding behind calm.
Most people in that theater took up space like it belonged to them.
You didn't.
You looked constantly pulled inward, like you were trying to make yourself smaller without realizing it. You smiled whenever somebody came over to talk to you, but the smile faded too fast. Your fingers kept messing with the base of your glass. Your shoulders stayed tense even when you laughed politely.
Alysa started noticing little things.
The way you avoided looking around for too long.
How every once in a while you'd take a slow breath like you were trying to steady yourself.
How you flinched just slightly every time the audience burst into applause.
It wasn't obvious to most people.
But Alysa understood that kind of thing better than people realized.
She'd spent too many press conferences wanting to bolt out the door. Too many interviews where she said all the right things while internally begging for silence.
So she watched.
Not in a creepy way. Not invasive.
Just… paying attention.
And the longer the night went on, the clearer it became that something was wrong.
When you finally stood up from your table, Alysa noticed immediately.
The movement was too quick. Too rushed for someone just going to the bathroom.
She watched you slip through the rows of seats while the stage still glowed gold and the presenter kept talking. Nobody at your table really reacted. One of your reps was still staring at his phone. Somebody else clapped absentmindedly.
Nobody seemed to notice the slight shaking in your hands.
Alysa did.
She watched you disappear into the side hallway and waited.
One minute.
Two.
Maybe someone would go after you.
A worried manager.
A friend.
Security.
Anybody.
But nobody moved.
And something about that twisted uncomfortably in Alysa's chest.
Because suddenly she remembered exactly what it felt like to be surrounded by hundreds of people and still feel completely alone.
She glanced toward the door you disappeared through again.
Then back at the table.
Nothing.
Nobody even seemed to realize you were gone.
Alysa hesitated for a few seconds.
Maybe she shouldn’t interfere.
Maybe you just needed air.
Maybe following you would be weird.
But then she remembered your trembling hands.
And the exhausted look she'd caught on your face before you left.
So Alysa stood up.
Quietly.
She muttered a quick excuse to the person beside her and slipped out of the main ballroom without drawing too much attention. The noise of the gala dulled behind the massive theater doors until it became a distant echo.
The hallway was emptier.
The lights out there were softer, less harsh than inside the main room. Alysa walked slowly at first, unsure where exactly you'd gone.
Then she saw the bathroom door slowly swinging shut at the end of the corridor.
She took a breath before walking over.
She didn't actually know what she was gonna say.
She'd never really been great at comforting people. On the ice, everything was easier: exact movements, choreography, routines practiced thousands of times.
Real emotions were messier.
More complicated.
She stopped outside the door for a second.
There was no sound coming from inside.
Just silence.
Too much silence.
Alysa carefully rested a hand against the cold metal door and stepped inside.
At first glance, the bathroom looked empty. White marble. Huge mirrors. Perfect lighting. Everything overly polished and way too still.
Then she saw you.
Sitting on the floor of the farthest stall, your dress spread around you, your back resting against the wall.
For a second, Alysa felt something tighten painfully in her chest.
Because seeing you like that stripped away the entire public image instantly.
You weren't the famous singer.
You weren't the artist selling out stadiums.
You weren't the girl from viral interviews or the industry's newest obsession.
You were just a completely exhausted person trying really hard not to fall apart.
Alysa quietly closed the door behind her, careful not to let the sound echo too loudly through the silence of the bathroom.
For a moment, she didn't say anything.
Not because she didn't want to, but because suddenly every sentence felt useless. The usual lines — are you okay?, do you need help? — sounded hollow in her head, way too small for something that had clearly been building up inside you for hours.
So she just stayed there.
At a careful distance.
Without crowding you.
The white overhead lighting spilled across the marble, making everything look fake-level perfect: spotless mirrors, pristine sinks, polished tile floors. And right in the middle of all that cold perfection was you, sitting on the floor like your body had finally decided it couldn’t carry the weight anymore.
Alysa watched you for another second.
Your tense shoulders.
Your hands still trembling a little.
The way your eyes stayed fixed downward, staring at some invisible spot on the floor.
You looked exhausted in a way that went way beyond being physically tired.
Finally, Alysa spoke.
"Hey."
Her voice came out soft. Careful.
You didn't answer immediately.
You barely looked up, clearly surprised you weren't alone. For a second, it looked like instinct kicked in automatically — like you were about to pull the public version of yourself back on. Neutral expression. Small polite smile. Quick reassurance that everything was fine.
But you didn't.
Maybe because you were too tired.
Maybe because Alysa didn't look like she came with cameras, questions, or hidden motives.
She took a small step closer, slow and cautious.
"I saw you leave," she said. "And… I dunno. Just wanted to make sure you were okay."
The words hung there between you.
Simple.
Honest.
Nothing extra.
You let out this small, cracked laugh that didn't really sound like laughter.
"Well, you picked a pretty bad time to check."
The honesty caught Alysa off guard enough to make her smile a little.
Not a huge smile. Not awkward. Just something small and human.
"Yeah," she admitted. "I kinda figured that out."
Silence again.
But this time it didn't feel as uncomfortable.
From somewhere deep inside the theater came muffled applause. A speech. Brief transition music. It sounded so far away it almost felt like another universe compared to the quiet bathroom around you.
Alysa leaned back against the marble near the sinks.
Not too close to you.
Just close enough to stay.
"I hate these kinds of events," she confessed suddenly.
You lifted your eyebrows slightly, surprised.
Alysa Liu's public image was practically flawless. Confident. Charming. Smiling. The skating prodigy who looked perfectly comfortable under pressure since she was thirteen.
Alysa exhaled through her nose like she could read exactly what you were thinking.
"No, seriously," she continued. "I have no clue how any of this works. Everybody always seems to know exactly where to look, when to talk, how to pose… and I still feel like I accidentally snuck in here."
That pulled a small smile out of you.
Tiny.
But real.
And Alysa noticed immediately.
"Also," she added, crossing her arms, "half the people here were famous before I was even born. That's honestly terrifying."
You dropped your head for a second as a more genuine laugh finally escaped you.
Brief.
But enough to loosen some of the tension filling the room.
Alysa felt something in the atmosphere ease just a little.
Then she watched you take another deep breath.
And the exhaustion came rushing right back into your expression.
"Sorry," you muttered after a few seconds. "I didn't mean to make a scene."
Alysa frowned slightly.
"You're not making a scene."
"I'm literally hiding on the floor of a bathroom during a televised awards show."
"Well… technically, yeah," Alysa admitted with a tiny amused grimace. "But that still doesn't count as a scene."
You softly shook your head and leaned it back against the wall behind you.
The white lights made the exhaustion under your eyes even more obvious. Up close, it was impossible not to notice how hard you'd been holding yourself together all night.
"I just needed five minutes without people looking at me."
That, Alysa understood.
God, she understood that way too well.
Because one of the worst things she'd learned after the Olympics was that people started feeling entitled to pieces of her. Her time. Her smile. Her energy.
Everybody wanted something.
A picture.
An interview.
A reaction.
A specific version of who they thought you were supposed to be.
And the more famous you got, the less space there was to simply exist while tired, anxious, or sad without somebody trying to analyze it.
Alysa slowly tilted her head back toward the ceiling.
"After the Olympics" she said calmly, "I had to hide in a closet during a sponsor party because there were too many people."
You looked at her directly for the first time.
"A closet?"
Alysa nodded, completely serious.
"A janitor's closet. With brooms and everything."
That got another laugh out of you.
Louder this time.
And it was weird how quickly the whole mood shifted a little over something so dumb.
Alysa smiled too, feeling the tension in the room become slightly less suffocating.
"My agent spent forty minutes looking for me," she continued. "When he finally found me, he thought I'd been kidnapped."
You covered part of your face with one hand, still laughing somewhere between exhausted and disbelieving.
"That is… honestly kinda iconic."
"Thank you. One of my classiest moments."
The silence afterward didn't feel as heavy anymore.
The exhaustion was still there. The anxiety too. All of it.
But now something else sat beside it.
Presence.
Company.
The strange feeling that somebody had finally noticed you weren't okay and decided to stay anyway.
And maybe that was the part you didn't know how to process most.
Because in this industry, you were used to people showing up when you were shining.
Not when you were quietly falling apart on the cold bathroom floor.
Up until that moment, you still hadn't really looked at her.
Not fully.
It had been easier to keep your attention fixed on the floor, on the white tiles, on any tiny meaningless detail that stopped you from feeling too exposed. Because looking directly at someone meant letting them really see you too, and you'd spent the entire night trying to avoid exactly that.
But then you lifted your head.
And looked at her.
Actually looked at her.
Alysa was still leaning against the marble near the sinks, her arms crossed loosely, dark dress falling softly around her figure. The white bathroom lights painted silver highlights through her dark hair and left soft shadows beneath her cheekbones.
And suddenly, for some ridiculous reason, the whole world felt strangely still.
Alysa was beautiful in a way that didn't fully translate in magazines or sports broadcasts. Here, away from the ice, without perfect HD-camera makeup or carefully trained interview smiles, there was something way more human about her.
Warmer.
Her eyes were the first thing that got you.
Dark. Focused. Ridiculously alive.
She wasn't looking at you with morbid curiosity or that fake sympathy people used when they wanted to feel like a good person. Alysa was looking at you like you were actually there with her. Like she wasn't waiting for a shinier or easier version of you to show up instead.
And that wrecked you faster than anything else had all night.
Because it was hard to remember the last time somebody looked at you like that.
Without wanting something.
Without analyzing you.
Without turning you into a story, an opportunity, or a headline.
Just… looking at you.
Alysa noticed the change immediately.
The way you were finally meeting her eyes for real.
For a second, neither of you said anything.
And then Alysa went completely still too.
Because now she was really looking at you.
Up until then, she'd been focused on other things: your shaking hands, the obvious exhaustion, the anxiety hidden behind every deep breath. But seeing you finally lift your head beneath that cold white lighting felt like taking a soft, unexpected hit straight to the chest.
You were gorgeous.
Not in some artificial, untouchable celebrity way built perfectly for magazine covers.
Worse.
Way worse.
Because there was something devastatingly real about you.
Your flawless makeup had started smudging just slightly around your eyes after hours of wearing it, and somehow that only made you look more human. Closer. The faint gloss on your lips had mostly faded away. A few loose strands of hair had escaped the perfectly styled gala look.
And Alysa couldn't stop staring.
Especially at your eyes.
Tired.
Way too tired for someone your age.
But unbelievably pretty.
There was sadness there. Anxiety. Exhaustion that had been building up way too long. And something else too — something softer, vulnerable in a way Alysa couldn't fully explain but that made this weird pressure settle in her chest.
Suddenly she understood why she'd been watching you all night without realizing it.
It hadn't just been concern.
She'd been attracted to you from the beginning, and it had been growing quietly the entire night while she pretended to pay attention to the gala.
And now, stuck in that bathroom with you, there was nowhere for her to run from it anymore.
Alysa realized way too late that she'd been completely silent for several seconds.
Just staring at you.
Lost.
You noticed too, apparently.
"What?" you asked softly, almost unsure.
The question snapped the moment apart just enough.
Alysa blinked quickly, dragged back into reality.
"Nothing," she answered way too fast.
Obviously way too fast.
Because you lifted an eyebrow slightly, exhausted but amused.
And Alysa immediately felt heat rush up her neck.
Jesus.
Olympic cameras had never made her this nervous.
She let out a small embarrassed laugh and glanced toward the mirror for a second.
"Okay, maybe not nothing."
You kept looking at her now, more curious than before.
Alysa swallowed.
She wasn't used to feeling this… thrown off balance. On the ice, everything had structure. Movement. Control. Even under pressure, she always knew exactly what to do with her body.
But this was different.
Way worse than any jump.
Because this was real.
And because you kept looking at her with that calm expression that made pretending to be normal basically impossible.
Alysa finally looked back at you.
And there it was again — that ridiculous feeling in her chest.
"Just…" she started, exhaling softly. "I think you might actually be the prettiest person I've ever seen."
The silence afterward was immediate.
Heavy.
Not uncomfortable.
Just full of something thick and electric that suddenly filled all the space between you.
Your eyes widened slightly, clearly caught off guard.
And Alysa instantly wanted to slam her head into the sink.
Perfect.
Good job, Alysa.
Trapped in a gala bathroom and that's what she decide to say.
But then something unexpected happened.
You smiled.
Not the polite red carpet smile.
Not the small automatic one you'd been using all night.
This one was different.
Slow.
Almost disbelieving.
And so pretty Alysa felt her brain completely short-circuit for a full second.
"That was really direct," you murmured.
Alysa let out a nervous laugh.
"Yeah, well… I usually have way better social skills than this."
"Usually?"
"Not when I'm nervous."
"And you're nervous?"
Alysa held your gaze for another second before answering.
"Very."
And for the first time all night, the exhaustion on your face softened enough to look almost like happiness.
The first time Alysa Liu noticed you, she almost fell during practice.
Not because of the triple flip she’d been drilling for the last forty minutes.
Not because her legs were exhausted.
But because someone in the stands smiled at her.
It shouldn’t have mattered. People smiled at athletes all the time during the Olympics. Fans waved flags, screamed names, held homemade signs, cried when skaters landed clean programs. Alysa was used to being watched.
She wasn’t used to watching back.
“Focus,” her coach called from rinkside as Alysa barely saved the landing.
“Yeah, yeah,” Alysa muttered, skating another lap to hide the embarrassment burning across her face.
But then she looked up again.
And there you were.
A few rows up in the stands bundled in a dark winter coat, your gloves wrapped around a paper cup probably filled with hot chocolate. Your younger brother sat beside you practically vibrating with excitement, pointing toward the ice every five seconds while talking your ear off.
You listened to him anyway.
That was what Alysa noticed most.
Not just that you were pretty—though you absolutely were—but the way you laughed every time your brother got too excited and nearly spilled popcorn everywhere. The way you fixed his hat when it slipped over his eyes. The way you looked genuinely happy to be there with him.
It was soft.
Warm.
Normal.
And somehow that felt more distracting than the thousands of cameras following Alysa around every day.
“You know staring is creepy, right?”
Alysa nearly jumped at the voice beside her.
Alex snorted from where he leaned against the boards. “You’ve been looking at the same girl for like ten minutes.”
“I have not.”
“You literally almost busted your ankle because of her.”
“That was one time.”
“In the last five minutes.”
Alysa rolled her eyes, but her cheeks betrayed her immediately by turning bright pink.
Alex looked up toward the stands before grinning. “Okay, fair. She’s cute.”
Alysa groaned dramatically. “Don’t say it like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re agreeing with me.”
“So you admit you think she’s cute.”
“I hate you.”
Alex laughed loudly enough that Alysa shoved his shoulder.
Unfortunately, that made you glance down toward the rink.
For one horrifying second, your eyes met Alysa’s.
Then you smiled politely.
Politely.
Not flirtatiously.
Not knowingly.
Just enough to make Alysa completely lose all remaining common sense.
“Oh my God,” Alex said slowly. “You’re doomed.”
“I need her number.”
Alex blinked. “You don’t even know her name.”
“I can learn names later.”
“That’s genuinely the worst thing you’ve ever said.”
Alysa ignored him, still staring toward the stands where you were now helping your younger brother unwrap a pretzel without dropping it everywhere.
“She’s probably visiting,” Alex pointed out.
“I know.”
“So you’ll never see her again after the Olympics.”
“I know.”
“And your solution is…?”
Alysa turned toward him with complete seriousness.
“Get her number for me.”
Alex barked out a laugh so sudden a nearby volunteer looked concerned.
“You cannot be serious.”
“I’m completely serious.”
“Alysa—”
“Please?”
“No.”
“Please.”
“No.”
“You’re my best friend.”
“That’s exactly why I’m saying no.”
Alysa grabbed his sleeve dramatically. “Alex, if you don’t help me, I will literally think about this girl for the rest of my life.”
“You met her ten minutes ago.”
“And yet here we are.”
Alex pinched the bridge of his nose while Alysa continued staring at him with the most desperate expression she could manage.
“You’re unbelievable,” he muttered.
“That’s not a no.”
“It should be.”
“But it isn’t.”
He sighed heavily. “Fine. Fine. I’ll ask.”
Alysa’s face lit up instantly. “Really?”
“You owe me for this.”
“I owe you my firstborn child.”
“That’s horrifying. Don’t say that.”
But Alysa barely heard him because Alex was already walking toward the seating area.
Toward you.
Suddenly Alysa regretted every decision she’d ever made.
“What if she says no?” she blurted.
Alex looked back once with pure amusement. “Then you survive the tragedy and move on with your life.”
Easy for him to say.
He wasn’t the one currently having a minor heart attack watching the prettiest girl he’d ever seen smile up at his best friend.
From across the rink, Alysa could see you looking confused at first when Alex approached. Then polite. Then surprised.
Your younger brother said something excitedly while pointing toward the ice.
Toward Alysa.
Oh God.
Was he telling you who she was?
Alysa panicked instantly and spun around, pretending to intensely focus on literally anything else.
Her skate guards.
The ice.
The ceiling.
A random camera operator.
Anything except the possibility of rejection happening thirty feet away.
A minute later, Alex returned casually.
Too casually.
“Well?” Alysa demanded immediately.
Alex held up his phone.
Alysa stared at the new contact information on the screen like it was the meaning of life itself.
“You got it?”
“She gave it to me.”
“Oh my God.”
Alex smirked. “You’re welcome.”
“What did you say?”
“That I thought you seemed cool and wanted your number.”
Alysa froze.
“You what?”
“What?”
“You said you wanted her number?”
“Well, yeah. That’s usually how asking works.”
“But did you say it was for me?”
Alex blinked.
Then his expression slowly shifted.
“Oh,” he said.
Alysa’s eyes widened in horror. “Alex.”
“I may have forgotten that part.”
“You forgot the entire important part!”
“It slipped my mind!”
Alysa looked absolutely devastated. “So now she thinks you asked for her number because you like her?”
“…Probably.”
“Oh my God.”
Alex started laughing immediately while Alysa buried her face in her hands.
“This is not funny.”
“It’s a little funny.”
“She thinks you’re cute!”
“Well, I am cute.”
Alysa groaned loudly enough that two nearby skaters turned to look at her.
This was a disaster.
A complete disaster.
And somehow it got even worse when she accidentally looked back toward the stands one more time—
Only to find you already looking at Alex with the smallest, shyest smile on your face.
