🎵 songs that inspired me for this chapter 🎵

daylight - 5 seconds of summer

all of the stars - ed sheeran

your love's like - sabrina carpenter

love me - yiruma

prosecco - patrik jean

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❀ -- sienna garcia -- ❀

"These are for you, Sienna, I hope you like them," He says, presenting a bouquet of freshly wrapped pink roses and white baby breath.

I take a sniff, reveling in its fragrance. He reveals a silver chain from his pocket and spins me around, laying the piece above my collarbone. The touch of the metal is cold but my heart is warm. I pick the pendant up and see the numbers 02.07.17 engraved on it.

"It's beautiful," I whisper and tears well up in my eyes.

I spring up, beads of perspiration dotting my forehead. My chest rises and dips in unsteady patterns and my grip on the blanket is vice tight.

It felt so real.

My room is pitch black, so I grab my phone and use it as a torchlight. My feet lead me to the toilet and I fumble for the light switch. My body seems to know something I don't because I have no idea what I'm doing in the toilet but some part of me knows exactly what I'm doing.

I open my mirror-cabinet and reach for the hard-cased jewelry box. I think I'm searching for a necklace...

Amidst all the silver, a pendant stands out. I think it's in the shape of a galaxy; a crescent moon is connected to a sphere of colours- purple, blue, silver, everything. Just like how they depict the outer space on the television.

With trembling fingers, I pull the pendant out and flip it to the backside. The numbers 02.07.17 are staring back at me.

Tears flow incessantly down my cheeks as I curl up against the headboard. I'm shivering and perspiring all at once; I want to scream but instead, a pain in my heart consumes all of me I can't manage more than a whimper.

I manage baby steps towards the window grill and undo the hinge with my remaining strength. A sharp breath of cool evening air slaps my face and ruffles through my sweaty hair as I lift the plane up and usher the night air into my room.

The salty tears evaporate with the wind, leaving my cheeks sticky and moist. The moonlit sky is a dark shade of sapphire, cloudless but the stars are outshone by the dire condition of light pollution.

My cell informs me that it's currently 01:45 in the morning and I'm persuaded to return to bed but decide to first brew a warm cup of green tea to help soothe my edgy nerves.

Once that's done, I set them aside on my bedside stand on put on a meditation podcast: "Let go of any lingering thoughts and let your feet feel heavy..."

My eyes stare at the ceilings blankly as I bask in the pre-sunrise atmosphere.

The sky outside is a shade of pale blue, and a circular ball of orange glory is on its way up the horizon. I bring my hands up into my field of view, and I get the strangest sensation.

My mind is a fog, Are these hands mine? I clench my fist and release the muscles again, just to prove to myself that I have control over these body parts.

Where the hell am I?

I wince as a throbbing headache threatens to split my skull into two. My hands go to my temples but it does nothing to ease the pain that's tearing me apart.

Breathe, breathe, breathe. I have to breathe.

I do, and the pain eases only by a thousandth. I pull the blanket off myself and turn towards my left. A ziplock bag on the bedside stand is plastered with a post-it note that screams 'painkillers' invitingly.

I twist the bottle of mineral open and pop three pills into my mouth. The hard, bitter tablets scratch the sides of my esophagus, but trust me, it pales in comparison to everything else now.

Vague voices are heard outside my door, and I make my way slowly, keeping my right hand on the foot my of bed for support and balance.

"Averie sweetheart! How are you?" A lady with a rather pleasant disposition asks. Her concern feels genuine, but something about her smile definitely isn't.

As though under huge amounts of stress, her temples pop out disgustingly of her forehead like her blood vessels are going to explode of high blood pressure anytime.

I stare blankly into her eyes, mind absolutely devoid of any reply. My eyes roll over to fixate on the male beside her who looks of similar age.

His eyebrows are twisted together, unlike the lady, and the intensity of his gaze only makes me feel even more uncomfortable.

"Why am I here?" I ask.

"You um," She starts avoiding eye contact and my suspicion is heightened. "Come, let's get you something warm, and you can tell Mom how you're feeling alright?"

I'm gasping hard for every ounce of oxygen I possibly can get.

I struggle to steady my breaths as salty, warm streams are released from the gates of my eyelids. My forehead, palms, and back have been drenched with cold perspiration induced by the sheer intensity of terror I experienced in the depths of my subconscious.

As if all pre-rehearsed, my bright pink alarm clock starts beeping periodically beside me, signaling the closure of the fourth watch. I steady my breaths and push myself off the mattress.

--

"Class stand!" Jasper instructs loudly upon the much 'anticipated' arrival of Mrs Millers.

I look over my shoulder to sneak a peak of him, and he flashes back a genuine dimply smile that usually would send my heart running for the hills, but not today.

Right now, my brain's completely messed up and I'm not so sure I can function as Averie. It's surreal, but it feels as though the ice between us has been broken a little.

Maybe just a little.

Nathan is nowhere to be found after yesterday's episode, which leaves me pretty mad, given how he sent me plunging into literally an entire night of darkness and then leaving me hanging with unanswered questions.

I settle back into the mold of my PVC chair, heart heavy. Lea glances over every now and then, but I say nothing to alleviate her curiosity.

Mrs Millers pulls out her infamously squeaky whiteboard marker, which is the cue for me to switch my ears off and get absorbed in my own work (homework, extra practices) that actually matter.

At this point, I'm wondering why my parents haven't just decided to put me through home school. I could self-study all these materials I have and still, I think I'd be fine.

She starts rambling on about an upcoming project that will be assigned to us, after forming our partner pairs. "This project will be graded as part of your continual assessment 3, so you might want to be paying extra attention," She booms through the front in her usual monotony, as though speaking directly to me.

My curiosity is slightly piqued as I give her words a bit more weight, "This project will encompass 20% of your entire year's worth of work, so I expect no less than 100% of your time and effort."

Alright, heard what I need to hear. She then turns to her favourite in the class (the whiteboard) and starts writing out - by hand - every single partner pair on the board when truth be told, she really could just use the visualiser, projector— whatever its name is.

I lift my head up a solid minute later, and find my name on the bottom right-hand corner, beside the name 'Brion'.

Oh.

"Schedule for today's period is tight, so I won't be making time for this project during class time. That also means you will have to find time outside of class to work on this project with your partner. Understood?" Mrs Millers says and just as quick, my cell vibrates.

'Hey. Are you free to work on the project tonight through a call?'

The text is from a foreign number but the username attached saves me the confusion. He's pretty on with this project.

'Sure. Sometime around 5 pm?'

Brion agrees promptly and I go back to the list of differential supplementary exercises that I otherwise never had the motivation to deal with prior.

--

School's out at 3 pm and I'm so glad I'm free of any liabilities, like CCA, for today.

It's still unconfirmed if I'd been accepted into my CCA of choice - Basketball - after the submission of my application form just two days ago, but that's fine with me.

It just means a little more free time for myself to dwell in the aftermath of whatever had happened yesterday. I've been tilted ever since and I don't really know when it's going to wear off either.

My butt barely skimps the surface of the built-in grey bench at the bus stop situated a five-minute walk away from the school campus, when a distinct voice halts me.

"Averie? I need to talk to you."

I swivel around to find Nathan's standing right in front of me, just as I thought I would.

"Wait, why are you here? Didn't you miss school today?" I ask blankly.

He looks down at the ground and avoids my eyes again, "I did... I'm so sorry Averie. I don't know if you'll accept my apology but I skipped school today because I couldn't face you."

His eyes are full of thick remorse and I want to tell him there's no reason why I wouldn't but I hold it in for now.

"Why?" I ask again. I swallow hard and a weird lump is forming in my throat.

I have no qualms about finding out what he was alluding to yesterday, but part of me is equally as afraid of the consequences if there are going to be any. I can't tell if this is some nasty prank, or something legitimate.

At any moment I'd rather this be some sort of sick prank, but I can't ignore the nightmares I had throughout the previous sleepless night either. There has to be some cause-and-effect going on that I wasn't consciously aware of, and that really is killing me on the inside.

It's like there's something about myself I can't even decipher.

"Is it alright if we go somewhere? I'll tell you everything I know," He says and I nod without hesitation.

--

Nathan brings me into the depths of this nature reserve I never knew existed - it's just another two-minute walk away from the bus stop yet the change in the scenery is already so drastic.

We find a quiet corner by the pond and take our seats on the same wooden bench. A pigeon waddles towards us and I scream at the sight of its red eyes and unruly feathers but Nathan shoos it away with his feet and I heave a sigh of relief.

"You're afraid of birds?" He laughs slightly, sensitive to my bundle of nerves right now.

I smile sadly and nod, "They have this look that gives me goosebumps... It's not that I have anything against them, I just don't think I can coexist with them in a small enclosed area."

"So," I start, filling the void and dragging the conversation back to the sole reason we're here, "What was it you wanted to tell me?" I muster up my courage to look at him but in fact, my insides are quivering.

"First, I'd like to apologise for my outburst the other day," He starts off hesitantly, and I smile to let him know it's okay, and that I've forgiven him for it.

"You may not know it, but I've had a thing for you since forever," His words flatter me despite the grave topic at hand, "It goes way back, back to the times when you and Kaiden were sort of a thing."

The mention of that taboo word sends shivers down my spine. My pupils are wide, conveying my eagerness to take in more.

"Truth is, Averie, you're no Averie. Averie Garcia is the name you adopted after you underwent this complicated treatment for depression that you were suffering from. Before all this, your name was Sienna Young."

Nathan pauses, just so I have time to take in the information and digest it. I take the moment to appreciate his sense of humour.

"That's a pretty good one, dude. But not enough to get me," I grin senselessly, gazing out to appreciate the splendor of the turquoise coloured pond water. I hope that's a sign of water cleanliness.

White swans glide through the top of the water effortlessly, occasionally craning their necks to pick dirt off their pristine white feathers.

"I'm not fooling anyone, Sienna," Nathan repeats and this time, my heart freezes. Not because I'm having seconds thoughts and considering the probability of him telling the truth, but because I know he is.

Me, depression though? I'm paralysed with fear as I sit and chew on the address of Sienna; it all feels way too familiar to be a joke.

"I know," I say resignedly. "Can you hold my hand? I'm scared. Not of you, that is - I'm scared of whatever you're going to tell me. I don't know if I can take it," I admit but he clamps his palm down onto mine in one swift motion so I don't feel as alone as before.

He presses hard, "I'm here. So long as I'm here, you won't be facing this alone. So don't be afraid." I nod, trying my best to believe his every word.

"We first met 2 years ago," He, too, looks out onto the graceful swans and sun-induced sparkles on the water surface. I stretch out my legs, feeling the weight of an incoming tan but also secretly hoping the sun would be able to vapourise all my troubles away just like that.

"It was a Christmas Service. I remember because you were dancing and singing Christmas songs in your seat like the cutest bunny that ever inhabited the planet. You wore a white polo shirt and a black mid waisted skirt that rested at least 2 inches above your knees," I can tell he didn't quite approve of my wardrobe choice. Well, it is in the past. I don't foresee myself wearing a attention seeking mini piece of cloth anytime soon.

"But man, that pretty little floral plait thing on your head was the killer. It made you look like a real princess. I'm pretty sure every single male teenager in the house had stopped to look twice, given how our church was a pretty small one and rarely do we get such a gift from God." He turns around and we both laugh at the mention.

"But," He continues, the glint in his eyes disappearing and a heavy droopiness descending upon them, "You weren't alone. You were with him, the boy whom every youth at our church looked up to. I wouldn't be surprised if he was the pastor's favourite too. Everyone loved him, and I had a feeling you did too. Which is why I never dared to come too close in his presence, because I didn't want to be stealing someone who wasn't or couldn't become mine."

His eyelids are closed and his eyebrows are furrowed together at the painful memory. I wish I could put my hand on his back or something to make it better, but I decide against it because I don't think I have any right to be the one consoling him when it all seems as though I was the one who inflicted his pain.

But more overwhelmingly, a strange heaviness begins setting in my heart, and I feel time coming to a standstill as snippets of these memories flash past before my eyes.

Brief, but it's sufficient for me to understand what he's telling me.

"Is this him you're talking about-" I say timidly and he's way too quick to answer, "Yes, it's the name you heard the other day before you passed out. Full name: Kaiden Lee."

I hiccup at the mention and my stomach digs its own deep abyss to contain the amount of dread generated. I hope no one finds us here because I'm not emotionally ready to come into contact with anyone right now. I'm this close to the truth.

"I'm not too sure how you two got to know each other..." He trails off,  and I bite my lip in small vents of frustration.

"All he mentioned was something about singing... singing together? Yes the two of you sang together for some school event I think - that's how you got to know each other. I guess you two become closer friends and he eventually introduced you to the church during an invite-your-friends sort of event."

"Why was our first meeting at the Christmas service then?" I point out.

"I wasn't present for the event that day," He says regretfully and I wonder what could have held him back from attending Christmas service. Isn't that the pinnacle service for Christians?

"Okay I gotta finish this," He sighs then picks up from where he left off.

"Afterwards, you started joining us for youth service and even visited the Sunday school kids where Kaiden would serve as a teacher on Sundays. My brother's only five, so he's still in Sunday school. Whenever you came over, I'd be by the side in a corner watching your adorable encounters with the children, as though you wish you were just one of them. The children loved you, you know," He says and tears prick at the corners of my eyes.

It's extremely touching knowing someone watched you so intently from afar, even if for selfish reasons.

"Then a few months after that Christmas service, he started acting all strange around you. You two stopped sitting together during service and seemed more emotionally detached altogether."

He seems to be more present, having emerged from the depth of his own recollections. Or possibly too because he's being especially attentive to my next remarks, on the watch out for any signals of distress.

"What happened?" I ask, feeling like my life is about to become dependent on this one answer.

"That's the thing... I don't know either."

I close my eyes and look away, not wanting the tears to make their way to the surface.

"I'm sorry, Sienna," He breathes and I mutter an 'it's okay'. My voice is weak and devoid of strength, and for the first time, I truly realise the price of uncovering this truth in its entirety.

"From there, things sort of just went downhill. He became council president and soon became so preoccupied with running school projects that he had to give weekly services a miss; which also means we hardly got to see him at all. If we did, it'd be on a Sunday. A year later, you opened up about your depression to a few of the trusted ones after we attended youth camp together and before I knew it, you were on pills to regulate your moods. From what you told me, the anti-depressants were going pretty okay for you, but still, your grades weren't satisfactory enough for your parents. That's when they decided to send you for electroconvulsive therapy."

"Electroconvulsive therapy?" I echo in shock. "What the hell is that?"

"It's this surgery where they deliver electricity to stimulate certain parts of your brain, especially the ones associated with mood regulation. If you're curious we'll do more research together," He offers. I smile weakly. Not that I can't do this research myself, but I think it'd be beneficial to have him as my pillar of emotional support whilst navigating these uncharted waters.

"Cases of memory loss were rare, but then again, you are a rare gem."

"Are you saying-" I gasp. Out of all the possible scenarios that I had played out in my head, none of them came this close.

"Yes. That's what I'm saying happened to you," Nathan says regretfully, eyes lingering and studying my facial expressions longer than usual.

He's trying to make sure I'm okay - which I definitely am not, but I don't want to add more burden to his shoulders by having to deal with the whirlwind of my emotions either.

"Averie," A familiar voice whispers and I feel the weight of another being as she kneels down on the ground beside me. I don't move as she pats my back in gentle motions and it stirs up a source of comfort.

"Lea?" I don't rub my eyes to check if I'm seeing things but the amount of uncertainty and doubt I'm harbouring is no less.

"Why-How did you find us here?" I'm utterly confused now and nothing makes sense, this included.

"Nathan texted me and told me to find you here," She says softly, still stroking my back in soothing motions. "He told me about having to tell you something and that he was afraid things would turn out just as it is right now." 

I come out from my shell and throw my arms around her, wetting her shirt as salty tears drip incessantly. My body trembles with each wail that only gets louder, and Lea continues patting, hugging me tighter.

"I'm listening, anytime you're ready," She whispers, like a mother cooing over her child.

I will myself to take deeper breaths, and the sobbing subsides. I become awfully aware of the thick mucus that is dripping from my nostrils, and I pinch my nose with my thumb and index finger to prevent it from leaking any further.

Lea realizes and pulls a packet of soft pulp tissue from her pocket. "Thank you," I say through my hiccups. Her gesture of kindness seems to twist my heart into bleeding even more.

When I'm ready, I look her in the eye, "I don't know what's going on with me, Lea. I really don't." My eyes turn glassy once again, but not in agony this time, but fear. Utter, genuine fear.

Fear so intoxicating my hands start to tremble, and I can but stare down at them helplessly.

"What do you mean?" She asks, and the panic in her voice makes me somewhat anxious too but I hold it in just so I retain enough concentration to tell her what I've been going through.

"I can't seem to remember anything at all," I confess, sobbing again but she squeezes my hand and it gives me the slightest bit of courage.

"It's okay, I'm here," She reassures and gives me the green light to continue.

"Nathan?" I'm hiccuping now as my sobs seemingly blow up, "Can you- Can you repeat everything you said to me for Lea?" He goes silent for a moment then does as I ask of him.

When it's all over, Lea looks back at me unbelieving me, as though she'd been convinced I'm not who I seem to be.

"Are you-" I open my mouth but that only induces even stronger body-wracking sobs that threaten to cut off all the oxygen supply I have, "Are you afraid of me now that you know everything? I'm.. I'm not-"

She hugs me tighter, arms firm but never harsh, "You're still my friend, Averie. I don't care if you're a Sienna, Emily, Janice - all I know is that you're that same girl who walked in two weeks ago. We became close friends and you've filled my days here with laughter and joy ever since; that I know. Are you hearing me?"

I nod through my erratic breaths and silently but never more intensely thank God for this angel He has sent into my life.
--

Dinner is as usual, with Father taking away from a neighbourhood Chinese stir-fry cuisine shop (it's our Friday dinner thing) because Mother doesn't have time to cook before sending Sarah off for science enrichment class.

I don't actually know how much interest she takes in science per se, but I guess the means justify the end if they help pull up her GPA. 

I'm much quieter than usual but thankfully no one notices because they're busy being entertained by the sports channel of our TV subscription. I sweep the last few grains of rice into my mouth and leave the table quietly.

Back in my room, I check my phone for any new notifications. Out of habit. No messages or calls from Lea and Nathan, but goodness-

5 Missed Calls.

Realisation slaps me hard in the face and I berate myself for forgetting my promise to Brion. I pick the phone up and dial his number.

"Hello?" His voice is dead and monotone. You'd expect a teenager to have a bit more spirit in his exchanges, but not this one.

"Hey Brion. I am so, so sorry for not being present at 5 pm for our work despite agreeing to meet online at the time-" I almost forget to breathe trying to explain myself but I get cut off abruptly.

"It's okay. I wish to tell you that you might want to rethink your work ethics nonetheless," He exhales and I'm left guessing if I heard him wrong.

"Wh...What do you mean?" I ask.

"It's just really irresponsible to not show up at a supposed pre-planned meeting without any reason nor notifying the other parties of your absence." His words are curt, to the point, and they sting.

I did suspect some imminent partner work squabbles due to our differences in personality but never did I anticipate having to deal with an ice-cold partner and all of his other bullcrap.

A wave of indignance is starting to brew.

"I didn't leave you hanging on purpose," I'm clenching my fists as the words are transmitted through the phone line to the other end.

He's got not a single idea what sort of emotional mess he's getting himself into.

"Tell me then. I'm all ears," He taunts annoyingly.

I do.

"Damn," He breathes after a long period of silence. Take that in, jerk.

"That's like a real-life drama plot, what the hell?" He exclaims and I'm glad he realises. Still, his sudden shift in perspective leaves me rightfully skeptical. What is he, bipolar?

"It's my turn to apologise: I'm so sorry for acting like a complete bastard earlier on and preaching work ethics and all onto you when you were going through all of this messed up shit."

I can't tell if he's being sincere with the abrupt change in attitude but the corners of my lips are upturned anyway. It's curious what an apology can do. At the right time, right place, right reason — Well maybe he's just a smooth talker. He lashes out at me for being a XX-chromosome dog, realised there's some background story that he didn't take into consideration, and this naturally is his attempt to salvage the situation.

Sounds pretty sound to me.

"I'm always here if you need someone to talk to, okay? You're not alone in this - whatever you're going through, I promise."

"Thank you," I whisper, not knowing what else to say. I almost allow myself to fall for his booby trap of being Mr Understanding but I manage to pull the reigns on my trust mechanism in time.

It's tough to keep in mind the predatory nature of men when we all don such obnoxiously unknowing skins. I'll make do with an appreciative albeit cautious approach with Brion for now.

"It's late, you should get some rest. We'll talk about the project another day, alright?" If he were an actor he'd make a pretty good one, because I almost pick up scant pieces of empathy, sympathy, compassion— just pick one. They all fit.

"Mm," I reply.

"Goodnight, Averie," He says and we hang up after I respond with a mutual goodnight.