Amelia sat across from her best friend, Alexandra, whom she called Bell because of her extraordinary liking for collecting small bells for good luck. Every time she travelled somewhere, she had to bring her friend a bell and a phone number of some handsome fortyish guy. Getting numbers was easy, but getting the freaking bells? Pure hell.

The café buzzed with the usual late-morning vibe, but Amelia's mind was still on the absurd event of the early hour from yesterday morning. She called Bell because she needed to pour her heart out to someone who shared her displeasure for her former boyfriend.

Bell was nursing a large cup of coffee, her eyes twinkling in anticipation. "So, what's the latest drama in Amelia's life, apart from your mother probably wanting to disown you after that TV interview?" she asked with a grin.

Amelia rolled her eyes, taking a huge sip of her own coffee. "Imagine this: You are in the middle of the most amazing dream about Aaron Taylor-Johnson."

"Let me stop you right here," Bell interrupted. "Is he wearing any clothes? That is crucial information."

"He's half naked."

"Which half of him is naked?"

"The upper one."

"Booo, you're boring. Your dreams are boring," Bell scoffed.

"They are my dreams, and I am very happy with Aaron shirtless. Anyway, you and Aaron are on a private beach in the Caribbean. There is no one else, and to heat things up a bit, you suggest a game of adult tic-tac-toe."

"That is a very good game. My favorite one, actually," Bell nodded approvingly.

"And when you are about to start playing, there comes a sudden, awfully loud bang."

"A volcano eruption?"

"No, unfortunately not. It was Sean banging on the door. At freaking four in the morning."

"I have to make a confession," Bell straightened up. "I have never liked Sean, but for interrupting a hot rendezvous with Aaron? I loathe him." She took another sip and added, "What did he want anyway?"

"He was there to declare his feelings for me, his undying love. Because, as you probably know, nothing says 'I'm so sorry for immensely fucking it up' like waking me up in the middle of the night. He went on about how he misses me, you know, all that stupid stuff guys usually say, and there I was, still standing, listening to his ramblings and wishing I could go back to my Aaron."

"You didn't let him in, did you?"

"Do I look that dumb?" Amelia raised her left eyebrow.

"Well, you've had a few weak moments with him," Bell pointed out. "May I freshen up your memory a bit with the fact that five months ago I found him naked in your bed when I came to visit? God, I thought I would have to get drunk to unconsciousness to get that picture of his naked pale ass out of my head."

"Hahaha," Amelia sneered. "That was a mere slip-up. A bump on the road, nothing more."

"You cried for two weeks straight when he fucked it all up again. Don't you remember? And I am not dating Channing anymore, so it's me who would have to kick Sean to the curb. I would do that happily, but still, I am a woman; a manicure is not cheap."

"Well, in that case, it's good I didn't let him in, right? I would not want you to ruin your perfect manicure," Amelia said, shaking her head. "I told him I don't care and slammed the door in his face."

Bell high-fived her. "Good for you, babe! Good for you." She took another sip of her coffee, her curiosity still piqued. "I know you probably don't want to talk about this given all the circumstances, but I still have to ask – are you planning to spend Thanksgiving with your family at that estate near Boston like usual?"

Amelia groaned and ran her fingers through her long chestnut hair. "Have I ever told you how spending Thanksgiving with my family feels?"

She slumped back in her chair. "It's like willingly stepping into a pit of quicksand. It starts with a seemingly harmless step into what should be a cozy family gathering, but it quickly devolves into a struggle for life. It's an unbearable and exhausting ordeal, and when it comes to its end, you know you are way too deep to make it out alive."

Amelia was apparently frustrated, and Bell chuckled, "That bad, huh?"

"It's even worse," she heaved a sigh. "It's not just about my mother's judgmental comments about me and my life. It's the entire circus around. And after what happened between me and my sister? I just can't deal with it this year."

Bell's eyes widened. She knew things between Amelia and her sister were bad, and it was completely understandable, given the circumstances, that Amelia did not want to spend any time with her sister. But she still thought the Wilkins family would spend Thanksgiving together. She thought so because of Amelia's mother, since for her, not spending Thanksgiving together as a family would simply not be acceptable—it would be an apocalypse. And there is no such thing as an apocalypse when Mrs. Wilkins is in charge. "What about your dad and Will?"

Amelia took a deep breath and shook her head. "Dad understands. He really gets it. When we called a week ago, he told me not to come if I am not comfortable with Sarah being around since she will be there as the perfect obedient daughter she is and my mother loves her for that," she sneered the last part – just talking about her sister made her skin crawl. There was a brief pause before she continued: "Dad... he even contemplated staying in Philadelphia and working during the holidays...he doesn't speak with Sarah either, you know?" She looked out of the window; the clouds were grey chasing each other like hungry dogs – it was definitely going to rain. "And Will? I highly doubt he will be there; he feels even more betrayed than I do. So, I think he's gonna spend Thanksgiving with his bachelor friends slash firm partners in Denver."

"And what about your mom? She has to be furious about you not coming home."

Amelia smirked and finished her coffee. "Oh, she doesn't know yet."

Bell's eyes widened in pure shock and Amelia swore they looked as big as the coffee saucers. Besides these widened eyes also her friend jaw practically dropped to the floor and she set down her cup with so much exaggerated care, as if any sudden and abrupt movement might be able to shatter her understanding of what her friend had just said. "Wait, wait, wait," she raised both her hands as if she was surrendering to some robber in the bank, "you have not told her?"

"Nope. I've been kinda busy dodging her calls since our last lovely talk after that late-nigh show. Well, she's still gonna find out – sooner or later. Probably when I don't show up at the table with my neatly written name card in hand."

"You have to have a name card? You really are from a posh family," Bell laughed, "or does anyone suffer from Alzheimer's disease?"

"My mother just likes spending hours and hours on those things and then we all feel like we're attending a royal banquet rather than a family dinner," she checked her phone. "And to be honest this royal banquet feels more like a royal execution than anything else."

"And you think she's gonna be so preoccupied with all those preparations that she won't realize you're not there until it's too late?"

"That is my plan," Amelia smiled smugly. "That or...actually I don't have another plan, I don't even have another pla-"

"She'll probably have a meltdown once she realizes you're not there," Bell laughed.

"She's been the reason I have a meltdown at least once a month for years. At least she'll get a taste of it now. Honestly, I'm half-expecting her to FaceTime me during dinner in front of everyone, just to showcase my absence and remind me of my familial duties," Amelia said, mimicking her mother's disapproving tone with exaggerated precision. She even pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes, doing a spot-on impression.

"But seriously," Bell's eyebrows quirked, "do you really think your mother won't understand why you don't want to be in the same room with your sister?"

Amelia belly-laughed. "Trust me, I really don't think she'll get it. According to her, Sarah is a walking Pinterest board for perfection and everything she does is for some "higher" purpose" she almost gagged, "her behaviour is nauseating and even more immoral. It makes my skin crawl."

"I just can't wrap my head around your mom's behaviour," Bell exclaimed, clearly frustrated as she rubbed her temple. "I know it's your mom, honey, but she's a bit out of her mind. Sarah is everything but a nice girl and loving sister. She's a bitch who's hurt you so freaking much that I'd happily slap her with a chair."

Amelia grinned at her best friend. She knew Bell had her back—always and forever. "I'm serious!" Bell raised her voice. "I mean, how can anyone be so blind to the obvious?! It's like your mother is living in a different reality where your big sister is a saint and you're the devil incarnate! You don't look like a devil at all... well, except when you've had way too much tequila. But even then, you're more of a cute devil, not a tearing-your-head-off kind of devil."

"Easy, babe! I don't want you giving yourself a stroke over my mother or my sister. They're not worth it!"

Bell smiled, her eyes softening with genuine concern. "But seriously, Amelia, I don't want you to think you're alone in this. I'm here for you, no matter how many family dinners or royal banquets you have to dodge."

"Thank you," Amelia said, her voice warm with appreciation. "It means a lot to me, especially when navigating this circus."

"So what's your plan for Thanksgiving then? Staying in New York all alone?"

"I'm going to stay in New York, yes, but I won't be alone. I've got a cat, remember?" Amelia grinned, leaning back in her chair comfortably. "And I've already got my list of things to do: Sleep in, eat an immense amount of Chinese takeout, and binge-watch every cheesy holiday movie Netflix has to offer. And if I'm feeling festive, I might even go out and grab one of those pumpkin spice lattes I pretend to hate—just for kicks!"

"It sounds so anti-Thanksgiving, I'm almost jealous. My family will be dragging me to some overcrowded parade, and then it's all about Aunt Edna's mystery casserole. No one knows what's in it, and no one has the courage to ask," Bell said, rolling her eyes.

"It's gonna be fun, you'll see. And if that mysterious casserole doesn't eat you alive, you can stop by later. You know I always have a bottle of white wine ready for you," Amelia smiled, and Bell's eyes lit up with excitement.

"Are you excited about visiting me, or is it just about the bottle of wine?" Amelia's curious tone made Bell roll her eyes again.

"Of course, it's about the wine. You have great taste when it comes to wine, but when it comes to men? Not so much."

"Don't push my buttons, babe, or I'll withdraw my invitation and drink the whole bottle myself."

"You wouldn't dare."

"You know I never joke about wine invitations," Amelia pointed out and smiled sweetly. Bell frowned and raised her hand in surrender. She knew there was a real chance that the invitation would actually be withdrawn if she kept pushing her best friend. Amelia never joked about wine invitations—they were something sacred.

"So... have I ever told you about my aunt's famously infamous casserole?" Bell tried to change the topic, even though she knew she had already told Amelia about her aunt's culinary skills.

Amelia just laughed, grateful that Bell had dropped the "men" topic. As they left the café, still chuckling over Bell's dramatic retelling of Aunt Edna's casserole disaster, the cool autumn breeze greeted them. The bustling New York streets buzzed with the usual chaos—horns honking, street vendors shouting, and pedestrians weaving through the crowds with practiced ease.

When they parted ways, Amelia headed straight home. But as she turned the last corner, her steps faltered. Standing right in front of her apartment building was her sister.

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Hi guys!

I hope you've enjoyed this Fiasco so far, haha.

xx

Hanca