And that's how I end up standing on the top of a pod, my feet numb from the excitement and exhilaration of trying to not slip off because I'm shaking so hard from the fear that starts pumping through my body.

Never would I have ever thought I'd be doing this.

But then again, it's just like how people are always trying to search for the definition of themselves. Every day when they wake up they find a new part of themselves, a foreign, amazing extension of their character that has never been seen before, but at the same time they lose a piece of the old them.

And slowly, over time, suddenly they change. Completely.

Everything comes at a price, doesn't it?

Like my escape. I don't know if Dakota, Xavier or even Chance is alive.

I really, really, really, really hope they are.

"Ready?" Emily shoots me a thumbs-up and I realize we're hovering right above Rehabilitation. The guards on the rooftop are all knocked out, having been zapped with some drug that Emily had used to keep the drafts asleep when they were sick or hurting. We loaded that into some machine, and Emily shot each of the guards down, one by one, at such a pattern that we wouldn't be discovered.

It's now or never.

I nod, and on cue, the pod lowers, courtesy of Emily's ability to manipulate things around her. I almost fall off at the last second, but Emily grabs my arm, shooting me an apologetic smile. "I'm not really great at making things perfectly straight...yet," she explains.

"Let's go, then," she gestures me to follow her as she gingerly steps off the pod, and as her feet touch the top of Rehabilitation, my heart skips a beat.

Chance is standing there, very much well and alive.

How did we not see him?

"Chance," I breathe, but Emily holds up an arm just as Chance's eyes light up and his familiar smile takes over his face.

My heart cracks.

He's alive. He's well and alive and breathing.

Somehow, a lump has formed in my throat and my chest constricts as tears burn the back of my eyes. All I want to do right now is to run towards him, but I might accidentally knock Emily off the building, so I hold back. Chance would understand.

"Amber, who are those people?" He gestures to the drafts and Emily, drawing his eyebrows together. "Are you in trouble?"

"She doesn't need to reply to you, Terran. Move away before I shoot you where the sun doesn't shine." Emily removes a gun from her belt, loading it and aiming it calmly at Chance.

Wait, what?

Then it hits me. This is another Edit trick. My hope falls to the ground and shatters into a million tiny pieces. Nothing is real anymore, I remind myself, just to make myself feel better even though I'm looking at my Chance.

"Move. Now." Emily lowers the gun, taking aim.

Chance's eyes widen, and his gaze moves to mine. "Amber, I—"

He barely has any time before Emily pulls the trigger, and hits the exact spot she wanted. Chance yells out in pain, so loud that I almost scream myself, and collapses to the floor. His façade changes, and in his place lies a blonde, blue-eyed man. His hand is over his groin. Emily struts off the pod completely and onto the rooftop, leaning over Terran.

"I'd wanted to do that for a long time now, you jerk," Emily kicks Terran in the side, but gently, almost playfully. Her eyes soften. "You should've come with me. I could've saved you."

I walk off the pod, and luckily catch myself just before I fall.

Terran's eyes are stormy, conflicted. "I'm sorry. But I'm doing the right thing."

"Do you honestly believe that?" The words are out of my mouth before I can even stop them. He's not bleeding; Emily must've shot him with a tranquilizer dart.

Terran's droopy eyes find mine.

"People are going to have to hide forever. There's no hope, no truth left, Evans. Don't even try to help us. Edit is the only way to save the human race from tearing each other down."

"Well, Amber here is going to make it all better. So when you wake up, you'll have a whole new world waiting for you." Emily smirks, before crouching down and brushing a strand of Terran's hair off his brow. "And I'll be waiting for you."

*

Fear. It pulses through my veins at the speed of light, keeps me moving, keeps me going.

It is also the thing fueling my arms and knees to shake uncontrollably.

Emily motions for me to move faster—I'm slowing down in doubt, but the hands of a clock only move one way, and it's not going to be very long before someone notices us.

And I know I should be on guard, prepared to attack, to defend, to run, but I can't help when a scene of my childhood filters through my mind.

"Hurry, they're going to be back soon!" I yell to Chance, who's busying himself with sweeping up the remnants of our food fight. Even from here, I can tell that he's smiling, and I can't help but let a grin spread over my face too.

After cleaning up ourselves, which took a lot of effort due to the amount of chocolate Chase had smudged over my face on purpose, and the whole bar that fell into my shirt and melted against my skin, we'd realized that we'd turned the kitchen into the aftermath of a tornado—which, apparently, is a natural disaster that happened thousands of years ago and destroyed houses—and my parents would be back soon.

They didn't like Chance already, and if they found out about our food fight, they would certainly tell me to forget about our friendship.

"I know," he calls back, amusement in his voice, throwing the last bits of wrapper into the trash can.

I head into the kitchen to rinse the chocolate-stained washcloth, and watch as Chance leans against the countertop, observing me quietly.

Recently, I don't know why, but I've been more self conscious around him, despite the fact we've been best friends since young.

"Hey, Amber," Chance casually says.

"Mmhmm?" I continue to clean off the stains.

"I came across your collection of stuffed animals in the cupboard—"

"Shut up," I groan, switching off the tap to cover my face with my hands. "Those were from when I was really young."

Chance lets out a laugh.

"And I came across this certain one that made me especially interested," he continues, pretending not to have heard me.

"Chance Adams. If you're going to continue, I am going to kill you," I say, my face heating up.

"And you want to guess what was written on the name tag?"

And that's it; I completely blow. Grabbing the washcloth, I throw it at him, and it hits him in the middle of his chest, leaving a giant mark, before landing on the ground with a wet plop.

His jaw falls. "What's that for?"

I smirk, and pet his head as I walk past him to grab a mop. "Do learn your lesson, Chance. Do not embarrass me."

As I bump shoulders with him, Chance grabs me round the waist, making me squeal in shock.

"I'm not going to let you off that easily, Evans," he says sternly, before breaking out into a playful grin and tackling me to the ground.

"You actually named your stuffed bear after me!" He laughs, ruffling my hair as my face explodes into a cherry red blush.

"Shut. Up!" I try to wiggle out from under him, but he's too heavy. Crossing my arms, I stare up at him, upset.

"Amber, we're home!"

My anger dissolves into panic, and Chance quickly climbs off me, headed for the back door.

Before he leaves, Chance sends me a smile and ruffles my hair again. "See you tomorrow," he whispers, before hopping onto his hover board and disappearing.

The memory morphs into one of a later time, when I'd started to use Edit and Chance started hurting me. It was not that bad at first though, just lots of harmless pranks.

I am pretty, I try to convince myself as I look into the mirror, I don't need to use Edit.

But the darker side of me disagrees. She wants to be perfect, flawless, everything I'm not.

Closing my eyes, I slide my finger over the Edit machine and let it all begin.

*

After completing my look, I walk down the stairs, past my parents, and get onto my hover board, headed for school.

I won't let them hurt me.

I try to ignore the fact that Chance hates me now, although we were best friends once upon a time.

I don't need him, anyway.

When I get to school, everyone holds their breath. Stepping in, I try to pretend to be that amazing supermodel that I've told myself I am, and strut down the hallway.

"Well, isn't it Miss Pathetic," someone's mocking laughter echoes from behind me.

Scoffing, I turn around. "Well, isn't it Mister Hopeless."

Chance has changed in the past few years, turning into a bully and a brat. I hate his guts, especially because he can maintain his not perfect, but acceptable looks. I look terrible without Edit.

Turning to open my locker, I scream as I realize my books and other stuff are coated in bird droppings.

Chance cackles from behind me. "Extremely rare, just like you."

Before his three-hundred-and-sixty-degree change, I'd accept it as a prank. But now, it's an insult.

Kicking his calf, I yell to him that I hate him.

Chance shrugs, his eyes a blazing storm. "The feelings are mutual, Evans."

Somehow that hurts more than the stupid prank.

I walk away, tears burning my eyes.

"Maybe next time I should use chocolate," Chance calls after me, laughing.

The last words are mumbled, but I hear them anyway, and my heart shatters into a million pieces.

"The one I smeared on your face."

Jolting back to reality, I suddenly realize how much I actually miss Chance. The dull ache in my chest throbs to life, and I bite my lip to keep the tears at bay.

The drafts are behind us, each of them with their creepy-but-impactful faces, looking at the things around them.

I don't want to look at them.

Our plan is to talk Xavier's father into giving up Edit, using the drafts. If not, we'll shut down the Black Hole, and Rehabilitation, before fighting to our deaths.

It's for the greater good.

Suddenly something smashes into me and I trip backwards, caught off guard. Shoving the person back, I prepare myself to fight, but lower my arms when my eyes meet the familiar brown ones.

"Wait," Emily holds out a hand, removing a laser from her pocket, running it over Dakota. When no Edit is detected, she puts down her hand.

Dakota is no longer looking at me; her eyes are focused on the girl beside me.

"Who's that?" She asks, and her eyes widen when she sees the drafts, wincing. "And what are those?"

"No time," I say, pulling her into a hug. She's alive. "Where's Xavier?"

"We're hiding. I ran out because we found something weird—namely you people." She tugs my arm, gesturing for me to follow her.

We run down a hallway, and soon the lighting gets dimmer and dimmer, and we're almost concealed in pitch black darkness.

Then we slowly make our way down a ladder, with me tripping once, and then we enter a brightly light room.

"These are the people who've helped us," Dakota gestures at a group of people, and in an instant, two people bullet towards me.

Chance reaches me first, pulling me into his strong arms immediately. Pulling away, he inspects me from head to toe, before letting out a breath of relief.

"You're alive," he says, his voice cracking, and pulls me to him.

The instant our lips meet, I throw everything out of the window—every worry, every doubt, every fear.

"Oh stars," Emily groans from behind us, but I barely hear her.

"Okay, enough, guys, enough," Xavier waves his arms in between us, and we both pull apart, and I waste no time in wrapping Xavier into a hug.

He pats my back awkwardly, sending me a smile.

"I think you owe us an explanation," a man with graying hair says, pointing to the drafts. Everyone's eyes flicker to them, before the room erupts in loud chatter.

"Hey, hey, wait, let's hear them out, shall we?" Dakota raises her voice, and everyone quietens down.

We move towards a side of the room, Emily telling the drafts to stay put before joining us.

And then I start from the beginning.

The song attached to this part is Unbreakable by Madison Beer. Hope you guys enjoy it!

Dedicated to winnieace12 for his weirdness (in a good way, because, hey, who's not weird?) and CherylTanXY for being there for me since Day One (you know what I mean ;D)