It had been three months since my father and I had reconnected. My only hope was that things could go back to normal between us, like when I was twelve, and he'd tell me stories while I sat on his lap.

But it hadn't.

On that fateful night, after Odin's performance had ended abruptly, he'd rushed off stage and shooed the buzzing crowd away from me. My head had been spinning, and I hadn't been able to stand on my own two feet.

"Move away from her!" Odin had hissed at some of the patrons who had surrounded me.

I had remained crouched on the floor, and at that exact moment, I'd looked up and seen my father peering over Odin's shoulder.

"Elizabeth?" He had called to me, all wide-eyed and confused.

I was ecstatic at first, to see that after all that time and all those years, destiny had led me straight to him. But, perhaps, too much time had passed, and the gap between us had widened exponentially.

I had moved out of Brooke and Nadia's apartment, as much as it had pained me to do so. After, I'd started living in a hostel with my Dad. Odin would come to visit every once in a while, and we'd pour each other drinks and talk outside until dawn. My father had promised me that our living situation wouldn't last longer than two months, but his promises fell flat. I began to carry him on my back, working double shifts as a checkout girl at the local grocery store. Life was a mess. And my original desire for my life had changed. Drastically.

***

The bar was crowded. 

Men and women alike hung around and threw back dozens of shots. It had been a while since I'd been at a place like this. So much had changed, and life had taken its toll on me. I guessed that I could say the same for the people around me, too.

As I perched my elbows onto the bar counter and surveyed the drinks on display, I also realised that this was where my father had spent most of his time and money.

He stood in the centre of the bar, dancing and singing to his heart's content. The people around us cheered him on. My father danced awkwardly, as a man of his age would. He held up a beer bottle and spun around clumsily.

Times like these used to amaze me.

The high scent of cigarette smoke plagued the air, and in the corner of the room, there was a group of men placing small bags onto a table. When I looked a little closer, I noticed the bags were filled with a white, powdery substance.

One of the men signaled for my father to come over, and I turned away sharply.

"Finally decided?" The handsome bartender re-appeared in front of me and smiled.

"Uh..." I glimpsed at my father and his friends as he collected an envelope. He stuffed it into his front pocket.

I said, "...Y'know what, I'm not thirsty anymore."

I hopped off the barstool and made my way to the exit.

"Where you goin', bunny?" One of the drunkards walked in front of me and grinned.

I rolled my eyes. I was disgusted.

I strutted past him and left the bar. The evening air played in my hair as I leaned against a street pole.

I was wrong about myself.

I felt my pockets for my lighter. I had had this tiny piece of metal with me for the past nine years. I had held it closer than before for the past six months, and now...

I turned it over in my hands and then chucked it to the other side of the street. I threw it as far away as I could have and then shook out my arm.

I didn't want this. I was wrong...about everything. I couldn't be a glamorous singer, and I had failed to belong in the most uninspiring of places. Every bridge I crossed had crashed and burned. Every last one.

I wanted to go home.

And home, I was starting to figure out, simply didn't exist for me. There was no place for me. For the longest while, I'd been chasing after the wind. I couldn't fit a square peg into a round hole no matter how hard I'd tried.

The front door to the bar opened behind me, and my father jogged down the short flight of steps.

"Ready to go already?" He exhaled as he chipped closer to me.

My father offered me his hand. I didn't take it.

"What's the envelope about?" I crossed my arms and glanced at his front pocket.

He ran his hand through his greying brown hair and huffed.

"Just some money a friend return-"

"You told me you'd stop lending your friends money!" I flailed my arms, "You lied! Just as you've been doing this entire time!"

My father's warm, chestnut coloured eyes searched the night sky aimlessly.  

Our finances were in a mess. I had hoped that by now, my father would keep his word and stop spending his savings on cigarettes, drinks, and leather belts.

"You don't care, do you?" I pressed him for an honest answer.

His face was emotionless and unreadable. He stuffed his hands into his back pockets and dipped his head toward me.

"I'll get us out of the hostel and out of this mess."

"No, you won't!" I yelled, "You only say that, but you don't mean it!"

My father huffed again and began walking off. I marched toward him and grabbed his hand.

"Mom was right about you." I admitted painfully, clutching onto his arm, "...She was right."

Dave didn't look me in the eye. Instead, his eyes lingered somewhere behind me.

"I did everything I could for you these past few months. I worked my butt off, I lent you money, I made excuses for your failures... and all you've done is sell me empty promises. Can you ever understand how much that hurts? How it hurts me?"

My tears were non-stop as I rattled those words off. Throughout my whole life, I had never wanted to criticise my Dad. To me, he was perfect, and all his flaws were a work of art. I had wanted him to be the father I thought he could have been. The father I'd known at eleven years old wouldn't put me in hot water like this. I was attached to my childhood idea of him... but that version had expired.

"Don't be selfish! Look at me and say you're sorry!" I screamed.

"...I'm sorry." He said faintly.

My father adjusted his jacket and continued walking away from me. I could no longer put up a fight. I couldn't even make him stay.

As he turned the corner, my heart sunk. And my palaces of dreams crumbled to the floor.

***

At the hostel, things were the same. People moved in, and others moved out. I entered one of the girls' dormitories, and to my surprise, I was alone. I headed over to my bunk bed and did the same as I always did. I pulled back the curtain, checked for my belongings, and then got comfortable on the bed.

After about half an hour, I got my things to shower. On my way to the shared bathroom, I glanced at the bed across from mine. It was empty, and no belongings were strewn across it. Surely another person would come to fill the space in no time.

I reached the bathroom and knocked before entering.

There were three showers, one of them missing a shower curtain and two white-tiled sinks. The sinks and walls were stained brownish-orange, and so it looked a bit dirty, even if it wasn't. The toilets were down the hall from us, thankfully.

I stepped into the furthest shower with my rubber slippers on and let down my hair. Having to place my shower bag on a wooden stool grossed me out. Every moment in that bathroom filled me with paranoia and nausea. I was sick of living like this.

As the cold water ran over my skin, I wrapped my arms around myself and closed my eyes. I tried to imagine that I was in my own home - newly furnished and modern. The thought ached my gut and filled me with panic. I couldn't go on like this. Not anymore.

I wanted out of this situation, and for that, I'd need a lot more money. I frowned.

As I massaged some soap onto my loofa and scrubbed myself, a tear slipped from my eyes.

I felt as though I had nothing, yet I had had everything.

Had I?

I glanced at the small scar on my inner thigh. I thought of Brooke, Nadia, Erika, and the guys and grew slightly nostalgic. Times like those were never meant to become nostalgic- they were meant to last forever.

For a final time, I slipped under the showerhead to rinse and didn't let the feeling break me.

***

It was another game night at the hostel, but I didn't feel like celebrating. All the hostel guests gathered in the dining room to socialise over a meal and a few drinks before the games began. The best part about it was that there were solo travellers from all over the world. When everyone joined together, a chorus of different accents and cultures basking in each other's company commenced. I had called Odin over for one reason only - I was leaving.

I took my clothes out of the drawer below the bunk bed and folded them into my bag. My eyes were red and puffy from all the crying I had done earlier as I triple-checked my shortlist.

I zipped open the tiny compartment at the side of my bag to hide away my wallet but found something much better.

Inside was a crinkled, white envelope. I flipped it over and looked at the signature at the bottom.

Catherine.

I gasped. 

How could I forget?

Her voice ran through my mind again.

"Emergency uses only."

I gently tore it open at the top and peeked inside.

"Holy hell," I whispered as my eyes landed on the cheque resting inside.

I clutched my chest as my breathing picked up. I should have been jumping up and down for joy, but instead, I felt guilty.

The envelope was my one-way ticket out of here.

I tucked it away and dragged the tears from my cheeks.

Catherine had given me my one-way ticket out of here.

I finished packing away my things and hid my bag under the sheets. 

When I left the dorm, I noticed Odin sitting in the living room. I released a sigh of relief as he stood and approached me.

Odin and I met each other in the middle of the corridor, and I wrapped my arms around him in a tight hug.

"I'm sorry about your father," Odin patted my back and then pulled away.

"I'm not." I half-lied, almost choking on my words.

"Part of you always will be."

Odin took a deep breath. He seemed about an inch taller from the last time I'd seen him, although it hadn't been that long. His olive-green eyes were as welcoming as ever, and his hair was combed back neatly for a change.

I hated that Odin was right.

"I wish...I wish I'd never seen him again," I rubbed my eyes and whimpered, "I wish that when he left me, that that was the last time I'd seen him... This hurts more than that."

I had gotten nearly everything I'd thought I wanted - friends, a romantic fling, and even my father. Now that I'd been through it all and back, I knew that it wasn't what I really needed.

I was wrong about everything.

I was wrong about my father.

And my mother...she was right.

Odin led me back out to the living room, where we sat and talked for a bit before I made my final decision. As he gesticulated proudly and offered me wheat bread slices and American cheese, I craved something else in every sense. I craved stability. 

There was a hole in my heart the size of the people I'd met along the road. Perhaps they were my home. Or not. My heart had no home and my soul, no secure place to rest. That realisation both frightened and excited me. I'd be on the road forever then, never with my feet planted on the ground.

I knew what I had to do.

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