The moment I take my seat on the bus taking me back home, I still recall that dreadful day. The one that could've dragged me to hell and back. The moment Kelsi Pearson—yeah, her, the renowed literary agent—took advantage of me and my unfinished manuscript.

She promised me she'd connect me with some important publishing agencies, but already made it clear she wanted to bargain an important sum on that kind of business. I was naïve enough to think this is how it works, so I trusted her.

Oh, I couldn't have been more wrong. She sold the manuscript to another author, got the work published and didn't even bother giving me any credit. When I tried to point out her underhanded move, she threatened to sue me into oblivion.

Not wanting to be stuck in an endless legal battle, I preferred backing down, at the expense of my work. I kept a copy of my original manuscript, but can't do anything about it anymore. Even if I revamp it, Kelsi and the other sly piece of shit will make sure to accuse me of infringing copyright.

I'm sucked in my dangerous thoughts, when a woman supposedly in her early sixties sits next to me. "Can I?" she asks politely. I'm about to stand up and leave her my seat, but she gestures at me to stay put. "No, please, you don't need to."

"As you prefer, madam."

We sit in silence, with me occasionally glancing at the landscape outside the window, until the lady next to me quietly stands up and gets off the bus. By the following stop, her place is taken by a familiar face.

"Braverly, do you recognize me?" she asks, startling me.

Julie Whittaker. The first person I met here in Baindale five years ago. If it hadn't been for her, I'm not sure if I would've got myself back on track. She has helped me pick up the pieces of my life in a way I've never imagined so far.

I greet her with a smile. "Oh, good afternoon. I'm headed back home. What about you?"

"Oh, I had to run a few errands in Waterbridge-" She cuts herself off as soon as she mentions my former hometown. The one that betrayed me with every means possible.

She apologizes when she notices my smile has faded and turned into a melancholic glance. "Sorry, I didn't mean to upset you."

I reassure her. "Don't worry. I was just lost in my thoughts. Anyway, what brought you there?" I try to force a smile, but it doesn't work. Julie notices I'm still in distress.

"Let me tell you something, Braverly. Don't let your past define you, even as painful as it is." She's right. I'm here in Baindale to live my life according to my own terms. None of the toxic people that were in it before should condition me anymore.

I don't answer straight away, but let Julie continue. "You know, you remind me of my daughter. Oh, before you ask, she isn't dead. We're simply miles apart."

Curiosity gets the best of me as I ask, "Why?" I assume she had a falling out with her daughter; fortunately, this is far from the truth.

"You've just done the right thing asking. No, we didn't separate on bad terms. She simply moved to Australia for her job. We aren't in contact as often as I wish due to timezones." This explanation makes sense. At least, Julie is at peace, knowing her daughter won't hold grudges at her. Not like...

Okay, I don't have to mention them. They don't deserve even the slightest afterthought. So, why do I constantly get reminded of them? What's the problem with me?

"Listen, Braverly. You may find it sappy, but this is what I once told Zaria when she felt out of place. Self-love often starts small, like planting a single seed."

"A seed, huh?"

"Yes, a seed. Imagine you're taking care of a beautiful flower." Okay, now I think I'm getting the whole picture. "With time, patience, and a bit of light, it will blossom..."

"...exactly like a flower," I finish. "This is amazing. Love is indeed the most beautiful and powerful thing in the world." Not just the one for other people, the nature or pleasant things, but also for oneself.

"Yeah, exactly that. Think of that when you're back home." Julie stands up and leaves her seat. Her stop is coming in a minute.

"See you next time, Mrs. Whittaker."

"Just call me Julie, okay?" She waves me goodbye and gets off the bus. Now that she's off, this means only four people, including myself, are still in.

Since my house is close to the end of the line, I still have about twenty minutes to be lost in my thoughts. Okay, actually not. The bus driver has started singing—the problem is, beside being an unpleasant distraction, he's off key as fuck. I wish he'd stop.

The few other passengers who are with me notice and a couple of them cover their ears, while another gets off the bus. Do I have to endure this torture until the end of the line?

After fifteen minutes, he stops, only to shout with his bolsterous voice, "Next stop is the last one. Make sure not to forget your belongings inside. Thank you for travelling with Baindale Autolines!"

Wow, at last! I can't wait to get off this bus and listen to music that's actually sung harmoniously and on key.

***

At home, I realize I have no more leftovers. This means I have to cook a meal from scratch. The problem is, I have no idea of what to make. Maybe I could make an exception and order takeaway. But what?

I scroll through apps to find anything I please when I decide to settle on pizza. It always makes me feel happy, so why not? I order a Margherita and a large Coke and wait for the delivery.

To kill some time, I watch some TV. I zap through channels under the belief that I'll find some good shows. However, as I reach NewsSpin, the local regional news channel, I'm flabbergasted at what I learn. My old high school in Waterbridge could close at any moment.

While I'm sad to learn that the building itself will be torn down, I'm relieved that the painful memories associated to it will also be wrecked. I wouldn't wish what I faced there on anyone. Probably I'd wish that on my worst enemies, but, no, I'll take the higher horse and prove I'm not as vengeful as them.

I change channel, not wanting to fixate myself on that stuff. I settle on another local channel that broadcasts a variety show. "This is much more fun!" I exclaim, when I hear a ping coming from my phone. "Dinner has come!"

I pick up my delivery and leave a huge tip before closing the door behind me. I rush to the living room, where the show I started watching a few minutes ago has ended, much to my disappointment. A sappy soap opera comes next. On to the next channel.

Oh, an anime. Blood Lilies. This is one of my favorites. New episodes, more so. I guess I've just found what will give me some company when I savor my pizza.