"We all heard the news, Heath. Congratulations!" Amelia, Michelle, and a few other models happily surrounded Heather after she left Nicolette's office with her new managerial position.

Heather smiled, furrowing her eyebrows. "Did she tell you before?"

"Yes!" Amelia nodded. "And we wanna throw a party for you in the building this weekend after we close! Since Nicolette will be gone on Monday, it's our last party with you as our coworker. Then, you'll be the big boss."

"I won't treat you guys any differently," laughed Heather. "Except I may have to boss you around sometimes if work doesn't get done."

"I'd let you boss me around any day, hottie," Michelle playfully winked.

"I'll see you guys tomorrow, ok?" Heather smirked, taking her phone out of her purse.

"See you, girl! We love you!" Amelia blew multiple air kisses to her.

"Love you guys too," Heather rolled her eyes while she left the building. She waited until she was in her car to call Alejandro. He was the first person she told when something incredible or terrible happened to her. And he was her biggest supporter.

"Hola, mi amor," her boyfriend answered.

"Hey, so—I have some good news." Excitement bubbled up in her stomach.

"What is it, mi vida?"

"Next week, I will be the manager of Flatter Allure!"

Alejandro gasped. "¡Dios mío! You're not joking?!"

"No! Of course not!" Heather said. "I was obviously the best for the job."

"Mi amor, mi reina, mi ángel...congratulations! I am so happy for you! This is increíble!"

"I know; I can't believe this is happening right now!" Heather felt more accomplished than she did in her entire life. Take that, mom and dad. I made something of myself—something you always thought I could never do.

"I'm coming over to celebrate. If that's ok with you, cariño," said Alejandro.

"Yeah, that's perfect," Heather smiled. "I'll be at my house in fifteen minutes, ok?"

"Bueno. I'll be there after I finish a quick assignment."

"Ugh, I'm just so excited! I can't sit still," she giggled.

"I'm beyond excited for you. You are such an amazing woman," Alejandro told her.

It was words like those that gave Heather butterflies. After all these years, Alejandro still had her wrapped around his finger. "I'll see you later, babe. Good luck with your assignment."

"Gracias. I'll need it. I love you. Get home safe."

"I will. I Love you too."

When Heather got home, she lounged on her couch. She felt like she was on top of the world. Then, the hunger pangs came. Her stomach rumbled. It felt like someone was twisting a knife into her gut.

Heather winced, curling up in a ball to ease the pain. She was used to this, and she didn't feel like eating, so she searched for cooking videos on YouTube. Her mouth tingled and watered at the sight of food. She wanted to eat more than anything, but she couldn't bring herself to step foot in the kitchen. Just thinking about eating made her anxious. Looking at videos and tempting herself was like a "reward."

The longer she watched, the worse she felt. Then, she remembered that she could call Courtney and tell her the news. That beat thirty minutes of torturing herself with food videos.

"Hey, bestie," Courtney answered. "What's up?"

"I wanted to let you know I got the manager position at work!" Heather said, trying her best to ignore the pain, which was now seeping throughout her entire body. Her bones and joints ached like she had a fever.

"Oh my god, Heather, that's awesome! My best friend is a queen!"

"Thank you, Court," Heather said.

"Is Alejandro happy for you? He better do something for you!"

"He's coming over in a bit to celebrate, so I don't know." She played with her hair.

"If he doesn't take you on an all-expense trip to Europe after this, he doesn't deserve to call you his," said Courtney.

"We've already been to Europe twice, Courtney," Heather laughed.

"Ok, then—he better take you to Asia or something!"

"It would be nice to visit where my maternal grandparents came from."

"If you're going to Japan, I'm coming with you," Courtney said.

"I'll let you know if I ever do," Heather said. She started twirling her hair.

"I'll be waiting," Courtney teased. "Oh, and let me know what Alejandro does for you this evening unless it's something I don't need to know about. Then, by all means, make up a lie."

"No, Courtney," she stated sarcastically. "I'll tell you all about how he made me scream and see stars all night long."

"You're disgusting," Courtney stifled a laugh.

Heather smirked. "That's what you get for bringing it up."

Suddenly, Heather felt a clump of something light in her hand. She pulled her hand away from her hair. There, in her hands, were dozens of strands of her hair in her fist. Her jaw dropped. A light gasp escaped her lips.

"...you know that," Courtney finished a sentence that Heather didn't pay attention to. "Heath? What was that? Are you ok, babes?"

"Yeah," she choked out. "I just gotta—I have to use the restroom. I'll text you later tonight, ok?"

"Alright. I hope you're not lying. If I were here with you, you know I'd be able to see right through you."

"Yes, I know." Heather sat up. She kept staring at her hair, her body trembling.

"I sensed a change in your voice," Courtney said.

"I'm fine; don't worry," said Heather. "I'm about to pee my pants, so I've gotta go." She hung up before Courtney could say goodbye and muted her, knowing her phone would blow up with angry texts in less than a minute about how rude she acted.

Heather rushed into the bathroom, picturing her head completely bare by the time she reached the mirror. Fortunately, that was not the case. She cautiously started running her hands through the underside of her hair. Multiple locks came out, wrapping themselves around her fingers. 

"Oh my god..." she whispered in horror. She hastily tied her hair into a high bun, hyperventilating. I can't lose my hair again.

It was never this bad before. Heather hadn't lost her hair as a teenager when her disorder began, although she was bald for a couple of months after Total Drama Island anyway. But she started hardly eating and purging at fifteen. It hadn't affected her this severely—possibly because this time, she withheld more food from herself.

The elevator dinged. Heather swallowed her tears, putting on her "everything's ok" face.

"Heather?" Alejandro's distant voice resounded through the apartment.

She took a deep breath and then came out of the bathroom. "Right here, babe."

Alejandro's face lit up. He stood in her living room with a bouquet of roses in one hand and a box of chocolates in the other. "Amor! I got these for you!" He speed walked toward her.

Heather smiled. "Thank you, 'Handro." She took the gifts and kissed his cheek.

After she put the flowers near a window, Alejandro gathered her in his arms. "I'm so proud of you, beautiful. I hope you know that."

"I do," Heather blushed. They rocked back and forth on the living room floor. "It's so surreal."

"I cannot imagine how great that must feel."

"Mmm, not as great as telling you," she mumbled into his shoulder.

"Amor, do you want me to cook something for you? Order your favorite takeout?" Alejandro rubbed her back.

Heather stiffened. There was no way she was going to eat in front of him. She had ensured she never ate in front of him for the past couple of weeks. "No, you don't need to. I'm not hungry right now."

Alejandro lifted an eyebrow, pulling away from their embrace. He studied his girlfriend's face for a moment. Her cheekbones looked hollow, and her skin was paler than usual. He couldn't see the rest of her body because she wore a long, flowy shirt.

"What are you looking at?" Heather asked, a distressed look written on her face. "Is there something wrong with me?"

"No, no, of course not," Alejandro shook his head. "You just look a little tired, is all. Are they overworking you again?"

A tight smile formed on Heather's lips. "I'm fine. Is there something else wrong? Do I look ok?"

"Heather," he began, pulling her back in his arms. "You're beautiful. I was just concerned about your sleep. That's it." Alejandro ignored the lump in his throat. What he didn't tell her was that she looked sickly in a way. He thought she was burnt out from work and wouldn't tell him.

"Ok," Heather smiled. She cupped his face, gently combing through his hair with her fingers. Leaning in, she pressed a wet, passionate kiss on his lips. She pressed her body against his.

Alejandro let out a deep groan. "So, this is your idea of celebrating?" He panted between kisses. Because I certainly love it." He ground against her.

Heather smirked as she rubbed the growing bulge in his jeans. "Celebrating or not, I want to make you feel good."

"Same goes for you, mi amor," he said huskily, kissing her neck and collarbone. "And you are the one we're celebrating, so I think you deserve special treatment." Alejandro snaked his arms around her waist, making Heather giggle.

"You always give me special treatment, amor," she whispered, lightly scratching her fingers over his neck. Alejandro shuddered, her touch making him crazy.

"I will please you all night long, ángel," he kissed her lips. "If that's what you desire, of course."

"Mmm, please?" Heather started unbuckling his pants.

Alejandro slid his jeans off in between kisses. He pressed her body against his so she could feel his erection through his boxers. Heather slid her hand in and started stroking.

"Mmm, amor," Alejandro moaned. He swiftly unbuttoned her shirt, kissing the top of her breasts. "You're so sexy," he whispered.

He reached to the back of her head and undid her bun. "Wait—!" Heather abruptly stepped back, clutching her hair for dear life. "Give me back my scrunchie!"

Alejandro looked at her, perplexed. He handed her the white scrunchie. "I thought you'd want your hair down."

"Not today." She hastily pulled her hair back up.

"Ok, I just wanted to make you feel more comfortable. But if you want your hair up, that's fine." Alejandro was still apprehensive. Heather always let her hair loose when they had sex. She liked when Alejandro tugged and pulled at it during their rough sessions or when he massaged her head when they felt like being gentle with each other.

Heather narrowed her eyes at him, noticing the wary look on his face. "What are you looking at me like that for?"

"Nothing, amor," Alejandro gave her a weak smile.

Heather glanced down at the line of cleavage revealed from her unbuttoned shirt. Is Alejandro looking at my body? Does he think I gained weight?! She crossed both sides of her blouse over herself like a robe. "Um...hey, I actually don't feel well right now," she fibbed.

He frowned, stepping toward her. "Heather, I know something's wrong. Please talk to me." He placed a hand on her shoulder.

"I just told you!" She snapped, backing away from his touch, "I feel sick."

"You have been acting strange for the past few weeks. I can tell that something's off with you," Alejandro said, crossing his arms.

"—I'm tired all the time, Alejandro." It wasn't a complete lie. Heather had little to no energy after standing for hours and hardly eating. "I think I'm getting sick from it." She sat down on the couch.

Alejandro still didn't believe Heather. She wasn't looking him in the eyes like she did when she was being genuine. He pulled his jeans back on and sat next to her. "Do you need to talk about it?"

"Why would I need to talk about it?" Heather responded. She sat crisscrossed.

"Because it's affecting you negatively. It's making you feel physically sick, sí? We can figure out how to change that."

Heather sighed. "I can fix it myself. I'm a grown woman."

Alejandro slid his hand into hers. "Let me help you, love."

"No! I don't need help, ok?" She took her hand out of his. "Just—I wanna be alone right now."

He froze. Over four years together, Heather had never told him that—unless she was doing homework when they were in college. They had plenty of time to themselves, so she never requested it.

"—Ok." Alejandro reluctantly got up, his chest aching. "Let me know if you need anything, honey." He wanted to kiss her head before he walked out but thought better of it. He trod slowly, hoping she'd change her mind and tell him everything. But all he got was her avoidant gaze. It felt like a knife to the heart.

As Alejandro rode down in the elevator, he held back an ocean of tears. Logically, he knew anything could be wrong with Heather, but his first thought was their relationship. What if she was trying to decide if she still loved him and didn't want to hurt his feelings? The thought of her being unhappy with him crushed him beyond repair.

Alejandro was at his happiest with Heather. No one else came anywhere close. She understood him and listened when he vented to her, and he did the same in return. Heather was the first person he thought of when he needed to tell someone something, whether it was about his day or just something funny he heard at school or work. Alejandro couldn't picture life without her. He didn't even remember what life was like before he met her. All he knew was he didn't want to remember.

After returning home, Alejandro checked his phone for a message or call from Heather. His open notification center stared right back at him.

Lying on his mattress, he looked through pictures of him and Heather. Some of them were from their trips to Europe. His favorite was the one he took of them on an Italian tour boat. Heather was resting her head against his shoulder, wearing a smile despite the grueling heat. Alejandro hadn't seen that smile since before the start of the new year.

Alejandro came across his favorite video of Heather. She was lying beside him in bed, talking about her favorite tv show endlessly. He had recorded her because he thought her passion for it was adorable.

Halfway through the video, Heather turned and caught him. "Are you recording me? Stop it! I'm not wearing makeup!" She covered her face with her hands and rolled over.

"This isn't going anywhere, amor. It's just for me," Alejandro said, chuckling. "And you look gorgeous without makeup."

Heather rolled back over to face him. Alejandro could see the light freckles mapped across her nose on the video. "Why are you recording me, weirdo?"

"Porque eres muy linda," he answered.

"You always say that," she rolled her eyes.

"It's true. I don't know what else I can say. I love hearing you talk about your interests and passions."

Blush painted Heather's cheeks, visible on Alejandro's camera. "Ugh, shut up. Quit being so perfect."

The video ended there, leaving Alejandro smiling as tears raced down his face. He wiped his eyes, sniffling. He grabbed his body pillow, pulled it close to his chest, and wrapped his legs around it, imagining it was Heather. That only made things worse because the next thing he knew, he was sobbing into the pillow.

Teenage Alejandro would've thought he was pathetic for crying over a woman, but sixteen-year-old Alejandro didn't know that the love of his life existed—that he could feel this much for someone.

Meanwhile, Heather was crying at her kitchen table, holding one of the roses Alejandro gave her. She started to text him: I'm sorry. I love you. I wanna tell you what's wrong, but I'm scared you won't want me anymore. But she deleted her message. The last thing she wanted was to see him upset. She didn't want to drag him deeper into her hell than she already had.

Bruiser jumped on her lap, purring to comfort her. Bruiser and Alejandro didn't get along at first, but the more Alejandro showed up over the years, the more her cat warmed up to her boyfriend. That was another aspect of the relationship that Heather didn't want to lose. She decided that she'd come up with something and text him later.

*~*~*~*~*

"Oh wow, you're actually on time," Courtney told Duncan when they met in the clinic parking lot for her appointment.

"I told you I'd show up earlier," he smiled.

"Well, I'm glad you did because I'm really anxious about this appointment."

"Why?" Duncan asked as they walked toward the entrance.

"It's the ultrasound!"

"—And? Haven't you got one before?"

"No, Duncan!" Courtney glowered. "A pregnant woman's first ultrasound is between the seventh and eighth week! We're getting a due date, and we're getting the heartbeat!"

Duncan blinked. "Oh. That's a lot. But I still don't get why you're all freaked out about it." They waited for an elderly man in a wheelchair to exit the building with who looked like his pregnant daughter.

Courtney opened her mouth to reply to Duncan when a bright flash caught her eye. Whipping her head around, she saw four paparazzi in the left-hand corner. "Oh my god...Duncan...we've got to get inside, now!"

The old man's wheelchair got stuck in the door, so his daughter had to help him back up to try again. Cortney anxiously rocked back and forth on her feet. She turned away from the cameras to hide her tiny baby bump. She wore a giant sweater to cover it, but they were clearly in front of the OBGYN clinic, and she was sure the cameras caught that.

"Courtney, what are you doing at a gynecologist's office with your ex?!" A woman paparazzi probed.

"We won't be answering any questions," Duncan attempted to cover the camera with his hand.

The woman backed up and aimed her camera back at Courtney. "Courtney, is Duncan the father of your baby?"

Another woman stepped on Courtney's other side. "Courtney, how far along are you?"

"Duncan, what do you think of all this? Did you ever think you'd have a baby with your ex from Total Drama?" A man asked.

Ignoring the question, Duncan marched up to the woman closest to Courtney, snatched the camera from her hand, and threw it on the ground, causing it to shatter to pieces. "Is that a good enough answer for you?!"

The rest of the paparazzi looked startled. They clutched their cameras, backing away. Duncan stood in front of Courtney. "Yeah, that's what I thought. Now get the fuck away from her, and leave us the fuck alone!"

Nodding frantically, the reporters dashed back to their cars. Duncan angrily shook his head. "Let's go in before they send more of their friends." He placed a hand on her back, guiding her through the door.

Courtney let out a breath, relieved they were gone. But she knew they still had footage of them at this clinic. They can only speculate since we didn't answer any questions, she told herself.

"Are you two ok?" The receptionist asked. "I saw all that chaos out there!"

Courtney paused, processing the question. "—Yeah, we're fine. This just hasn't happened in a long time." She straightened out her disheveled clothes.

"My daughters used to watch total drama," she smiled. "You two were hilarious." Courtney raised an eyebrow at Duncan, who returned the look. "But don't worry. I won't give you a hard time. I know all of it was years ago."

Thank god, Courtney thought.

"Are you here to see Dr. Green, ma'am?"

"Yeah," Courtney nodded.

They got checked in and only had to wait about five minutes before the nurse took them back. This time, Duncan paid more attention to what was spoken.

Another ten minutes passed before the ultrasound technician came in. "Hi, I'm Dr. Mabel," she grinned. "You must be Courtney."

"Yes, pleased to meet you," Courtney smiled back politely.

Dr. Mabel set up her computer. "Are you ready for your first ultrasound?"

Courtney chewed on her bottom lip. "I'm a little nervous, but yeah, I'm ready."

"So many mothers come in here feeling nervous, but there's nothing to worry about. All I'll need you to do is get undressed and get into this gown!" She presented a white scrub shirt and pants patterned with small green polka dots.

"Duncan, that's your cue," Courtney said, jutting her head toward the exit.

"I know," he rolled his eyes as he left the room.

"Just let me know when you're finished, sweetheart!" Dr. Mabel chirped.

Courtney nodded. "Alright, thank you."

After she finished dressing, she let the doctor and Duncan back in.

"Ok, I'm gonna have you sit on this exam table." Dr. Mabel patted the deep blue chair next to her ultrasound screen. Courtney did as she was told.

She clicked a few things on the sonogram before lifting Courtney's shirt. "I'm going to put some petroleum jelly on your belly. It may feel a little cold, but this will help me see the baby a little better." Dr. Mabel lathered the jelly over Courtney's stomach.

It was at this moment Courtney wished she had a younger sibling so that she'd know what to expect. "What size is the baby?" She asked.

"Your baby is around the size of a raspberry or blueberry—whichever's easiest to picture," the doctor answered.

Courtney pouted. "Really? Because it feels way bigger than that."

"It's your bloating, sweetheart. And because your uterus is as big as a medium-sized orange right now." She glided the probe around her stomach, gently putting pressure on it. "Did you know this baby has already grown ten thousand times bigger?"

"Whoa. That's...how is that possible? If that's the case, I should be a balloon by now!"

"He or she is too small for that," Dr. Mabel laughed. "You'll definitely feel like a balloon in about four more months."

"Great," sighed Courtney, looking up at the smooth ceiling. It was strange, but the jelly helped Courtney calm down from the scene outside the clinic with the paparazzi. She eyed Duncan, who sat in a chair against the wall across from the exam table. She was thankful that he got them away from her and a bit surprised. She wasn't sure if seventeen-year-old Duncan would've done the same.

"Ah, here we are!" Dr. Mabel chimed. "Would you like to see the baby?" She asked Courtney.

Before she could answer, Duncan rose from his seat. "I can't see it."

"It's tiny right now, so you'll need to come closer," Dr. Mabel told him. Duncan timidly walked forward as if he feared Courtney would jump off the table and strangle him.

Courtney rubbed her lips together, anxiously waiting for his reaction. She watched Duncan squint, jut his lips out, then raise his unibrow. "That little blob is a baby?" He asked.

"Yep," Mabel smiled. She glanced at Courtney expectantly.

Courtney swallowed. "Will this make me queasy to know that another human being is forming inside me?"

"If you're not comfortable, you don't have to look," the doctor replied softly.

"No, I think I can do it. It'll just be so weird."

"Would you rather have a picture and look at that?" Asked Dr. Mabel.

"Actually—yes, please." Courtney placed her hands under her legs.

"Would you like to hear the heartbeat?"

Courtney froze. The heartbeat. That's what she was most nervous about. But she needed to know if it was healthy—if she was doing everything right. She had done hours of research on diets, exercise, and mental health while pregnant. She never wanted to make mistakes. "Yes," she answered.

Dr. Mabel took a fetal doppler and moved it around Courtney's lower stomach. There were a few gurgling noises and swishing sounds before a steady beat emitted from the speaker.

Courtney gasped lightly. "Whoa, is that it? Is that really it?"

"Yes," Mabel beamed. "One-hundred and eight beats per minute. Perfectly strong and healthy for seven weeks."

"Oh my god...that's crazy," Duncan uttered. "There's actually a real baby in there."

Courtney looked at her stomach. She couldn't help but smile at the fact that she was doing something right. The heartbeat was like soothing music—hypnotizing and tranquil.

Both Duncan and Courtney sat in silence, almost unable to comprehend that this was something they made while they were drunk out of their minds. It was kind of like a beautiful accident.

"Alright," Dr. Mabel screenshotted the live image on the sonogram once they were done listening. She then looked between Courtney and Duncan. "Do you guys have any further questions?"

"How big will the baby be the next time we see it?" Duncan said. Courtney furrowed her eyebrows. He actually asked a question, and it didn't sound forced.

"The baby will be about the size of a kiwi next time," Mabel answered. "Your next ultrasound is around seven weeks from now," she told Courtney. "Fourteen weeks is a special time because we get to determine the baby's gender."

"When's the due date?" Courtney said as Dr. Mabel cleaned and put away her tools.

"That's a question you'll ask Dr. Green. I just sent the ultrasound results to her, and she'll be here very soon. You will also get your picture from her."

Courtney nodded.

Silence filled the room after Dr. Mabel left. Courtney fiddled with her scrubs, two words on the tip of her tongue.

Duncan looked elsewhere, not expecting her to say anything. She opened her mouth and took a breath in. "Duncan," she began.

"Yeah?"

"Tha—"

A bright knock on the door interrupted her. Dr. Green walked in with a wide grin, clipboard in hand. "Courtney, how are you doing?"

"Still vomiting almost every day of the week, but I'm making it through," Courtney gave her a tight smile.

"Are you able to tolerate food?"

"Most foods. I can't stand even the smell of oranges, though."

"That's completely normal. I recommend eating more ginger and avoiding too much time between meals. Snacking is your friend," said Dr. Green.

"Yes, I've been drinking ginger ale every day at lunch," Courtney said. "I think I do need to snack more, though. Some of my nausea could be from not eating enough."

Dr. Green opened her black clipboard and pulled out two small Polaroid-like photos. "I have two copies of your ultrasound scan if you both want to keep them." She handed one to Courtney.

With hesitancy at first, Courtney looked at the picture. She saw a tiny oval-shaped figure attached to her uterus. "Where's its head?" She asked.

"See the bigger end?" Said Dr. Green.

"Mhm."

"That's the head. The back part is growing faster than the front part. Also, at this stage, the bones are starting to grow."

"I knew that!" Courtney stated proudly. "I've looked up fetal development through all the stages of pregnancy week by week."

"I'm glad you're doing your research," she nodded. "It's good for the mother to know if you tend to get stressed."

"Yeah, I couldn't even look at the baby in the live ultrasound screening because I thought I'd pass out for sure!"

Dr. Green laughed. "Some women tend to get queasy from either anxiety or excitement. Don't worry; what you're feeling is normal."

"Can we have a due date?" Duncan brought up Courtney's question. He rocked back and forth on his heels. After seeing the fetus and hearing its heartbeat, his curiosity peaked. He had vague memories of seeing an ultrasound picture of his younger brother, but he didn't really understand it back then.

"We're looking at late September, probably anywhere from the 25th through the 30th. Maybe early October."

"Wow, my birthday's on September 17th," Courtney said.

"I bet you'll remember this birthday forever," said the doctor.

Courtney knew Dr. Green was well intentioned, but she couldn't help but think of it in a more sinister manner. Giving birth was traumatizing, and so was finding out that she made a huge mistake by making the baby in the first place. She didn't want to be reminded every year on her birthday about the baby she gave away to another family because she was too incompetent for an unplanned pregnancy at the age of twenty-three.

After checking out and setting up their next appointment, Courtney tentatively walked out the door behind Duncan. He proved that he could be trusted when it came to her privacy.

"Do you need me to walk you to your car?" Duncan asked her.

Courtney needed to blink a few times before answering. When has he suddenly become a gentleman? "Yes. Yeah, that would be great."

Duncan led her further into the parking lot, keeping an eye out for reporters with pencil skirts, trench coats, and over-the-top cameras. "I think the coast is clear," he said.

Courtney opened her car door. "Thank you," she said the words she wanted to say in the doctor's office. "For fighting them off earlier."

"Yeah, of course," he shrugged. "No big deal. I do it all the time. Those fuckers are always trying to make something out of nothing."

"Do you think they got the hint?" She asked, cringing. She knew the answer but asking gave her a sliver of hope.

"—I don't know," Duncan replied, also knowing the answer. If he acted like he didn't know, then maybe, by some lucky chance, he wouldn't see it in the news.

"Fuck," Courtney whispered. "I guess I'll see you in seven weeks."

"You too." Duncan hung his head. He'd rather face the internet trolls than have to be publicly associated with Courtney again. Except this time, he couldn't direct his anger toward her for causing a scene in public like she did when they were teenagers. This time, they were in this together. They needed each other to survive the next seven and a half months.

*~*~*~*~*

"You feeling ok today, Gwen?" Robby, one of her coworkers, asked as they wiped the counters down after work.

"Yeah, I'm ok," she gave him her winning 'I'm doing great' smile.

Over the past week, Gwen's coworkers had been beyond supportive. They even helped her turn Blake in for the non-consensual distribution of intimate images. He couldn't even fight back, thanks to Gwen and Sierra's screenshots.

But that didn't fix anything. Gwen's daily life was affected. If she didn't wear a hoodie to work to hide her face, at least one or two drunk men in the parking lot would catcall her and holler vulgar things or insults.

There was a reason Gwen never got out. She was always afraid that something like this would happen and worsen her already terrible reputation.

"That's good," Robby smiled, patting her shoulder.

"Keep your head up, girlfriend," Sydney, another coworker, said as she passed by with a broom. "I had been through that shit a few years ago. Men can be nasty fucks. It'll all pass over soon once someone famous acts stupid. I'm betting about three days before someone takes your humiliation spotlight."

"Thanks," Gwen replied. She had only come to work twice this week instead of her usual four days. She couldn't show her face the day after her pictures went viral. By the second day, Blake had, of course, deleted the photos. If they hadn't had so many likes, Gwen would've felt relieved.

Gwen hardly saw Geoff this week. The other day she worked, Geoff was a closer, and she was an opener, so she left about two hours after Geoff arrived. During that time, they hardly spoke except for the occasional "thanks" and "sorry" when they bumped into each other.

Gwen was sure he hated or at least felt disgusted with her. He hadn't said one word about the incident, but she knew that he knew because he didn't go out of his way to talk to her whenever they weren't busy.

That night, Gwen sat on her living room floor with her ticket to the Drama Brothers concert in her hands. The show was tomorrow night, and she and Geoff were going—or at least she assumed they were, considering he never said otherwise.

She ate a late dinner/early breakfast at 3:30 am, an adjustment she had gotten used to after working at The Night Owl for a while. In the shower, anxious thoughts circled Gwen's head. She didn't want to go to the concert if Geoff didn't. That was the only reason she agreed in the first place.

On the other hand, Sierra had paid for their tickets, and Gwen didn't want to throw them out at the last second. She flopped into bed, prepared for an awkward time at the concert the next day.

Gwen couldn't sleep. She wondered if Geoff regretted kissing her after he saw those pictures. Would he say the same things the media and people online were saying about her? Gwen thought of a particular comment on the internet that tortured her: I bet she sends nudes to every guy who gives her the time of day. And I bet every guy she's been with has a gf!

This comment made her delete social media. She didn't plan to get back on anytime soon. Gwen started imagining Geoff repeating those hateful remarks to her. It made her feel like a shotgun hit her right through her heart.

Thank god for Gwen's logic—her only saving grace now. She knew Geoff would never say those things. The problem: was he thinking them when he saw her?

The following day, Gwen woke up at 12:30 in the afternoon. She usually never slept past 10:30 on her days after work to avoid bad habits, but her alarm never woke her up this morning. That was a new kind of tiredness.

Too lazy to get out of bed, she scrolled through her calendar on her phone. Drama Brothers concert at 8:00 tonight! It was the reminder that popped up when she clicked today's date.

Gwen sighed heavily. Should I go or not? I never decided last night. She considered texting Geoff to ask him if he was still going, but she'd feel stupid no matter his answer.

"Guess my answer is no, then," she muttered, finding Sierra's contact. She frowned. Sorry, Sierra.

A millisecond before Gwen clicked on her number, Geoff's name filled her screen, scaring her half to death. "Hey," she answered breathlessly, tensing her shoulders.

"Hey," said Geoff. His voice sounded feeble, worn out.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah. Just partied a little too hard last night," he chuckled.

Gwen bit her tongue. There was so much she wanted to ask him. "So—what's up?" She asked instead.

"I was just callin' to ask if you wanna carpool to the concert tonight!" His cheery voice was back like nothing ever happened. "We can listen to some Nirvana and The Smashing Pumpkins," he listed some of her favorite bands.

"Um—" Gwen didn't know how to react. "Sure, sounds good."

"Awesome, possum. I'll pick you up at 6:30 pm sharp. We'll get there thirty minutes before it starts."

"Cool. See you then."

"You too, G!"

Gwen hung up, confused. Did I imagine this the entire time? Did Geoff actually text me earlier this week, and I didn't notice or forgot? She went to their texts, but the last message was from a little over a week ago when she told him she was home safely after their night on the rooftop. What the hell? Why was he acting like that over the phone, then?

Until Geoff arrived, Gwen tried to distract herself with funny videos and short horror films on YouTube. It worked for a few minutes, but he was still on her mind.

Geoff knocked on the door four times as he always did. Gwen took one last look at her made-up face in the mirror before opening the door.

"Hey, G! Ready to partayyy?!" Geoff whooped.

"Let's just go," she faked a smile, walking out the door and locking it.

Geoff walked with her to his car and opened the door for her. "After you." He bowed goofily, making Gwen laugh and forget about the issue on the back burner momentarily.

Once Geoff got in on his side, he clicked the Nirvana playlist on his phone. Smells Like Teen Spirit started playing. "Have you eaten yet?" He asked Gwen as he backed out of the parking lot.

Gwen shook her head. "No, but I'm starved."

"Then we should go get some food!" He started driving through the other apartments that led to the main road. "What do you want?"

Gwen puckered her lips. "I don't know; I think a sub sandwich sounds good."

"Subs it is!" Geoff said. "Dinner's on me, so order whatever you like."

Gwen gave him a puzzled look. "Ok, thanks." Typically, she would've argued. But this evening, she felt a certain way. She didn't know if it was skepticism, bewilderment, or annoyance.

Geoff ordered in the drive-thru. He handed Gwen her food and started sloppily eating his while he drove, trying to stuff his food down quickly.

As they covered more distance, Gwen looked out the window. She didn't know what to say. The elephant in the room was more like a disease in the air, spreading faster via the car heater. She felt kind of angry at Geoff. He hadn't checked up on her once the entire week. No calls, no voicemails, and no texts. And here he was, acting like he didn't have a damn care in the world.

They passed over a bridge when Gwen decided she had had enough. The tension was like having the worst headache in the world. "So, um...we didn't talk much at work this week. Is it because of—you know, the weird pictures of me online?" She kept her gaze out the window.

Geoff flinched. "Gwen, I'm so sorry for not talking as much as usual. I sent you a message a few days ago, but you never answered it, so I thought you wanted to be alone, and I didn't wanna say the wrong thing—"

"What?" Gwen turned around. "I never got a message from you about that."

"Huh? I swear I sent one! Look at my phone!" He blindly reached for his phone in one of the cup holders between them.

Gwen clicked on their messages. Oh. "—Geoff," she stated flatly, "you never sent it."

Geoff's eyes went wide. "What? How, dude?!"

"You typed it in the message bar but never pressed send," she laughed.

"Oh. That explains why I never got any notifications from my message center."

Gwen held in more laughter. "You never bothered to open our conversation?"

"No," said Geoff. "I usually get text notifications right away!"

"Here," she smirked, "I'll send it for you." Her phone dinged. "Oh look, it's a message from Geoff. It says, are you doing ok? Do you need to talk?" Gwen blushed after reading. All this time...he was thinking of me, and I assumed the worst.

"Sorry," he chuckled sheepishly. "I guess I should've said something at work, but I didn't wanna make things worse for you by bringing it up if you didn't wanna talk. And I always fuck up what I want to say, so it probably would've hurt you somehow."

Gwen lifted an eyebrow. "Geoff...I don't think you could ever hurt me. Even by accident." That was when she realized she was hurting herself by thinking those bitter thoughts just a few minutes ago.

"Well, that picture thing was awful, and I didn't wanna risk any more damage, ya know? They already talk so much shit about you as it is. It's just unfair."

"I know," she mumbled. "It was my ex, Blake. I feel so fucking stupid for—ugh." Gwen dragged her hands down her face. "It's so embarrassing.

"It's not embarrassing," Geoff said. "You trusted him. That's what Bridgette and I used to do," he laughed. That statement quickly made him cringe. He wasn't used to blending humor with the breakup grief.

"I swear, we always send the most intimate pictures to the ones who betray us," Gwen rolled her eyes. She always wondered about Bridgette. Geoff hardly brought it up, and she didn't want to press because she couldn't imagine how much it hurt him. But she still longed to know his thoughts and feelings about it.

"Right," Geoff nodded. He suddenly grinned, wanting to change the subject. "I can see the stadium from here!" He pointed to a tall black structure behind a tree line. "Only five minutes away!"

Gwen had to lift her bottom out of her seat to see, stretching the seatbelt. "Oh wow, that's huge."

"I'm excited to see them live. I heard that their voices improved big time."

"I bet," Gwen replied. She glanced at her ticket. A13. "Fuck, I think we're in the front."

"We are! I looked up the seating chart online. It's gonna be sweet!" Geoff said.

Ha. Great. That's a surefire way Trent will see me, Gwen thought.

Geoff pulled into the parking garage, then walked toward the stadium across a windy sidewalk. "Wanna get some glow sticks?" Geoff asked Gwen. He spotted a couple of ushers passing them out.

"Sure, why not?" She giggled. "I haven't seen one of those since I was, like, ten."

"Really? No way! If you come to more parties with me, you'll be using glow sticks all the time!"

"What do you guys even do with them at adults' parties? Wait, don't answer that..."

Geoff cackled. "Don't worry. They're not used for anything weird. We just like waving them up in the air. The more neon lights at a party, the better."

"Hm. Guess I'll have to join you the next time you go to a party," Gwen stated playfully, flirtatiously.

"I wouldn't mind that," he smiled with a hint of blush. He reached for her hand, but Gwen retracted it.

"I don't want the paparazzi to see anything else they could put on a smear campaign against me," she said.

"Oh, yeah, good point," Geoff nodded, hiding his disappointment. He wasn't mad at Gwen. He knew it wasn't her fault. He didn't know what he was thinking—trying to grab her hand so casually like that. Yes, they'd already held hands on the rooftop, but they'd also agreed to remain friends. Remember Bridgette, Geoff told himself.

Music started blasting from the giant speakers. "Sounds like the openers," Geoff said.

"Yep," replied Gwen.

They found their seats and got their things situated. Gwen gasped when she saw a woman handing out blue cotton candy. "Yes! I was so hoping they had that!"

"It'll be three dollars," the woman told a nearby family.

Geoff got out ten bucks from his wallet. "Let's both get some."

"Geoff, I swear to god, stop paying for me!" Gwen whined.

"Nope. You deserve a little break. Especially after this week."

She sighed in defeat. "You're way too nice."

After Geoff bought the cotton candy, Sierra came sprinting toward them, nearly tripping over her own shoes. She had a bright yellow backpack on. "Geoff! Gwen! I purposely put your seats next to mine because I have a little surprise for you at the end of the concert!" She squealed. 

Gwen watched Sierra sit down next to Geoff. At least he can handle her screeches better than me, she thought. "What surprise?"

"I'm not telling you until after the concert's over! That's why it's called a surprise. Duh!"

"I hope it's a good surprise," Gwen scowled at Sierra. When Sierra said "surprise," it either meant something awesome or 'want to off yourself' bad was about to happen. There was no in-between.

Sierra responded with a guilty laugh, shrinking in her seat. Gwen had to take a deep breath to compose herself. She knew this wasn't going to be fun. Not for her, at least.

And Gwen was right. At the end of the concert, Sierra threw VIP passes around their necks and led them backstage before Gwen could say anything.

"Ms. Obonsawin!" A tall man in a fancy-looking suit embroidered with blue and black sequins greeted Sierra with a firm handshake. Gwen never thought Sierra could act so formally. "Pleasure to see you again! I expect you'll do the Drama Brothers interview in their tour bus?"

"Yes!" Sierra piped. Just let me know when they're ready."

Interview?! Gwen stepped back. Geoff looked at her with concern.

"Will do, ma'am," the man nodded and spun on his heel to exit.

Gwen clenched her jaw. She marched straight up to Sierra. "A Drama Brothers interview? On their tour bus?! I never agreed to this! What kind of drugs are you on?!"

"Gwen!" Sierra threw her hands up in defense. "I thought you and Geoff would enjoy a behind-the-scenes look at what they do before their concerts!"

Gwen crossed her arms, looking unimpressed. Geoff frowned at her. "Dudette," he told Sierra, "I don't think she wants to see her ex."

"I know, but it's a video segment! I'll post it tomorrow morning on my blog. All of my Drama Brother videos are viral on there! They have millions of views!"

"Do I have to be in it?" Gwen asked.

"Of course not! You guys can just watch and have a few snacks and drinks. And the thing is—I already paid for three of us. I don't know who else to take."

"Oh, Sierra, you're always so thoughtful," said Gwen.

"I know that was sarcasm," she rolled her eyes. "But you'll thank me later.

"I don't know what for, but ok."

"Just follow me outside! They have the fanciest tour bus! It smells so good, probably because of Cody. Ah, he loves the smell of cinnamon," Sierra sighed dreamily.

"There's no way we're doing this," Gwen told Geoff.

"I know it'll be hard, but think on the bright side!" He said. "There might be more cotton candy in the bus!"

"That helps so much," Gwen smiled sardonically.

"For real, though." Geoff rubbed her shoulder. "I'll be right beside you, too."

Gwen felt comforted by that fact. "Thanks. I'm glad. Otherwise, I wouldn't have come here at all."

The Drama Brothers tour bus was filled with blue leather couches. Everything around them was white, except for the fake wooden exterior of the countertops. Two widescreen TVs hung on both sides of the vehicle.

One by one, the Drama Brothers filed out from the back. The bus was giant enough for each to have their own rooms, although tiny.

"Sierra, hey!" Justin flashed his charming smile. He wore a silky white shirt with a purple scarf tucked into the collar. 

Cody and Harold waved while they drank god knows what from some kind of specialized juice boxes.

"Hey, guys!" Sierra grinned. "I brought a couple of guests to watch your interview tonight!" She stepped aside to reveal Gwen and Geoff.

"Hey, dudes," Geoff greeted effortlessly.

Gwen stood there, stiff as a board. She felt like the walls were caving in on her. I thought white rooms were less suffocating!

"Hi Geoff," Cody waved. "Hi, Gwen." For once, he didn't swoon or perk up like a kid at an amusement park. He looked at her like—a regular person. Thank god, Gwen held in a relieved sigh right then and there. She knew he didn't talk to her at Geoff's New Year's party, but this was confirmation since she was formally announced and standing right in front of him.

Trent, on the other hand, waved but looked at the ceiling as if he were blind. Sierra clapped her hands together, snapping him out of it. "Let's start, shall we?"

For Gwen, the interview went by quickly because she kept staring at different objects in the room and making up personalities for them. Yes, she was desperate to escape the situation. She could feel Trent's eyes on her whenever he snuck a glance.

Gwen couldn't lie. Trent was still attractive. His black hair had grown a tad past his ears, and his emerald eyes sparkled the way they used to when she met him on Total Drama Island. Gwen would always have those memories. Trent was her first "real" boyfriend. He would always hold that important spot in her life. But she was glad they weren't together anymore. He looked much happier now.

After another thirty minutes, almost all the band members had gone. Gwen's lips felt dry. She remembered she had left her chapstick in Geoff's car with her other makeup.

Sierra set up her camera for Cody, the next interviewee. Of course, Sierra had saved the "best" for last.

"I need to get something out of the car,"
Gwen whispered to Geoff. "Can I borrow your keys?"

"Yeah, of course," he smiled, tossing her the keys without hesitation.

"Thanks." Gwen stood up and carefully shut the door in case Sierra had started filming the moment she left.

She came back with the chapstick in her hand but stopped herself from going in because she heard Sierra's loud voice asking a question. I guess I'll wait out here for ten minutes.

A shuffling noise from the other side of the bus startled her. She tiptoed over the concrete and peered around the backside of the vehicle. Relief embraced her when she saw that it was only Trent. He was checking the back set of tires.

"Oh my god, I thought you were some weirdo," Gwen said.

Trent paused as if seeing her for the first time. "Nah, I snuck out after you went to the car. Justin's complaining about the road being too bumpy, so I'm making sure we don't have a flat." He pressed on one of the tires.

Gwen nodded, curling her lips inward. "So—how've you been?"

"I've been good," answered Trent. He shook his head as he felt the other tires. "Justin's being a drama queen, as usual. None of the other guys feel it." He walked toward the front tires. Gwen ungracefully stepped aside, almost tripping on a twig.

"That's good. I'm happy you're doing well," said Gwen. "Sierra fills me in all the time. About the band."

"Doesn't surprise me," Trent chuckled, stretching after he stood up.

"And, of course, I never ask for it."

He shrugged. "I never thought our music was your taste."

"I think I heard one song on the radio a few weeks ago," Gwen said. "It was some cheesy love song about how our love is like a rose, and we're the rain that helps it grow."

"Throughout the Seasons?" Trent laughed.

"I guess. I don't know the name."

"Yeah, that's it. I wrote the song by myself."

"Is it about your girlfriend?" Gwen teased.

"Yes," Trent smiled. "Rachel's the most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes on: two years and two months going strong. I'm thinking about proposing. We've talked about it a few times."

Gwen blinked. Wow, how time has passed. "Oh, that's great. I hope everything works out. You seem like you got it going for you."

"What about you?" Trent leaned against the bus.

"Me?" Gwen laughed. "I'm surviving off of painting and bartending. Nothing too exciting."

"Have anyone special?"

She lightly scoffed, blood rushing into her cheeks. "No. Well—not exactly. We're not official or anything, just friends, but I really like him." Gwen's heart exploded at the thought of her and Geoff becoming a real thing. She would get to know him on a much deeper level, and she'd get to kiss and cuddle him without hesitation. She'd feel free to be herself.

Trent slyly smiled as if they were close friends and he knew who she was talking about. "I hope it all works out for you, Gwen."

"Thanks. Me too." Gwen desired a relationship with Geoff. She wanted to try it, at least. But the fear that they'd fall too hard for each other and that she'd mess everything up weighed heavy on her heart.

"Seeing you again reminds me of old times," Trent changed the subject. "I'll never forget that awful summer camp experience."

Gwen snorted. "It's funny because that was my first time at a summer camp. Now, I'm forever traumatized."

"Oh man," Trent laughed. "That has to suck. Did you ever get a real camping experience?"

"I did whenever we hung out together. I'm so thankful for those memories."

Trent smiled sentimentally. "Me too."

Gwen's face fell. "Trent, I'm sorry for how things went down between us. I wish I could've done it differently. If we hadn't been on international TV—"

"You don't have to apologize, Gwen," he interrupted. "You were honest and practical about our breakup. We were only teenagers and didn't know what we wanted. It's ok. At least we had fun while it lasted."

A confident smile formed on her lips. "Yeah, you're right. We had a good time." It felt good to get some closure with Trent finally. She didn't have to worry about what he thought of her or wonder if he thought of her.

A moment later, the bus door swung open. "Gwen! Trent! The interview's over! You two are safe to come back in!"

Gwen climbed into the tour bus and handed Geoff's keys back to him. "Just got some chapstick. My lips were killing me."

"Ha, my lips always bleed during the winter," Geoff said.

"You should start putting on chapstick more often, then."

Geoff laughed, standing up and putting his coat back on. "Ready to go?"

Gwen saw Trent looking at them from the corner of her eye. He had the faintest smirk on his lips, like he knew something.

And he did. Trent saw how flushed Gwen's appearance became when she stood next to Geoff. Huh, I never thought about them as a couple, he thought. But I can see it.