The worst thing about the morning after was not the see you next time. No. It was the standing together in an elevator in silence on some kind of fucked up walk of shame where Donny would leave the building and Everleigh would go to continental breakfast and they would both pretend they didn't smell like sex because neither of them had bothered to shower afterwards.

            Everleigh was some kind of sick fuck during a morning after because she always, always drowned her feeling of hatred toward herself in a bowl of stale cereal from the breakfast bar. Mainly Froot Loops, but it depended on what was available. If it wasn't sugary and shitty for her, Everleigh didn't want to eat it. She figured that was part of the reason Donny never stayed with her for breakfast—that, and after the first time when he'd rejected her idea of breakfast, Everleigh stopped asking. Probably the non-asking had more to do with it than anything else.

            When Everleigh got back to her room, a Styrofoam bowl of Froot Loops in her hand, her phone started ringing. Well. Maverick's phone started ringing.

            With a mouthful of cereal, Everleigh pressed the phone to her ear. "Hello?" Everleigh nearly spat milk down her front as she greeted the caller. Lord, she was too comfortable answering Maverick's phone.

            "Please tell me you're eating breakfast and not eating—"

            "Stop." Everleigh nearly choked on her cereal instead of swallowing it. "God, what do you want?"

            Maverick laughed on the other end of the phone. "I had a question."

            "A question you couldn't text me?"

            "I like to hear your accent, Everleigh."

            "You're a few sandwiches short of a picnic, Kingston." Everleigh sighed and put him on speaker so she could eat her cereal.

            "See? That's not nearly as insulting over text."

            "You had a question." Everleigh waved her hand in spite of Maverick not being able to see her. "Carry on."

            "What are you eating?"

            "You called to ask what I'm eating?"

            "No, but now I'm curious."

            "Froot Loops."

            "Really?"

            "Why would I lie about Froot Loops?"

            "I don't know. It sounded fake."

            Everleigh sighed. "Is that a thing you do? Think everything's fake?"

            "Are you talking about the fact that your name sounds fake?"

            Everleigh hung up on him. Immediately video called him.

            Maverick answered a little too quickly. "God, Everleigh, I thought something had happened to..." Maverick reached to his ear offscreen, shook his hand away. Pushed his round glasses up the bridge of his nose. "What the hell was that for?"

            "I wanted to see your face when I told you my last name is Meadowlark." Everleigh ate a handful of Froot Loops.

            "Everleigh Meadowlark?" Maverick gaped. "Are your parents Geralt and Yennefer?"

            Everleigh laughed. "I wish."

            "You understood that reference?"

            Everleigh looked at Maverick. "I'm surprised you made that reference."

            "I love that game." Maverick laid down in a bed; Everleigh couldn't quite pinpoint if he was on a tour bus or simply hadn't turned the lights on in his hotel room.

            "Did you watch the show?" Everleigh swirled her finger in the bowl of dry Froot Loops.

            "Of course."

            "Did you read the books?" Everleigh arched an accusatory eyebrow at him.

            Maverick scratched the back of his neck. A small, awkward laugh escaped. He made a face. "Um. Not yet."

            "I will hang up on you again." It was Everleigh's turn to gape at him. 

            "I plan to! I want to!" Maverick yelled, waving his hand. "I just haven't yet."

            "Christ almighty, what are you waiting for?"

            "Time." Maverick laughed. "Reading is hard and video games are easy."

            "I can lend them to you." Everleigh ate a few more Froot Loops. "They're at my flat in London."

            "You'd do that?"

            "If you promise to take care of them and keep me updated on what you think of it as you read it."

            Maverick looked at Everleigh like she'd grown another head in the time they'd been on video call.

            Everleigh frowned and looked over her shoulder. "You frozen or did someone break in behind me?"

            "You really want me to read these, don't you?"

            "Um, yes." Everleigh didn't mean to wave her hands while she spoke, but she did. Nearly dropped Maverick's phone in the process. "They're the greatest. Ever. I could bathe in them."

            "Is it because of Henry Cavill?"

            "I read the books before he was cast—"

            "Everleigh Meadowlark." Maverick's singsong voice was somehow not at all condescending as it would be if someone else had sang Everleigh's name to her. She wasn't sure if that made her angry or not.

            "You were trying to stir the pot, weren't you?"

            "Absolutely. It was entertaining."

            "Fuck you, Kingston." Everleigh laughed out the venom in her voice.

            "I will read the book if you want," Maverick said. "But I can buy my own copy."

            "If you get your own copies, you don't get my annotations though."

            "You annotate your books?" A small smile pulled at the corner of Maverick's mouth.

            "Of course I do." Everleigh frowned at Maverick. "Did you have another question or did you only want to talk about Witcher?"

            "I like hearing you talk about Witcher. The other question wasn't that important."

            "It was important enough you decided to use up my minutes," Everleigh said, dumping the last of her Froot Loops into her mouth.

            "I—uh—" Maverick's eyes widened slightly. "I'm sorry. Is that actually a problem?"

            Everleigh shook her head. "No."

            "Sick form of humour, Everleigh."

            Everleigh laughed. "How'd your concert go last night?"

            "It was great." Maverick smiled shyly. "Can I say something kind of dorky?"

            "I just said I'd bathe in the Witcher books and you have to ask that first?"

            "I don't think I'll ever stop enjoying when people sing along to songs I wrote." Maverick shook his head and grinned. "I took out my earplugs yesterday and... and I listened. I couldn't stop listening. The fact people know the words to songs when they're something so personal... Everleigh, last night's crowd was one of the best. I think I fell in love with what I do all over again."

            "That sounds amazing, Kingston."

            "Going to sound a lot different when my hearing goes."

            Everleigh frowned, raised an eyebrow.

            Maverick looked at her like he hadn't meant to say that out loud. "I—uh..." He turned his head, hearing aid in plain sight. Everleigh knew he hadn't been wearing them on the plane the day before. Maverick turned back to look at her. "There's something to say about how loud everything is during a concert. And something to say about how I never listened to warnings about hearing loss."

            "Mav—" Everleigh cleared her throat. "Uh. Kingston, that's... I'm sorry."

            "Nah." Maverick shook his head. "Not something to be sorry for. I gotta enjoy it while it lasts."

            "That's a good way to look at it."

            "I'm trying to learn ASL. Before it goes. Hopefully it doesn't affect my music or writing. I might have to give up the sound, keep the lyrics. Something." Maverick looked past the phone. "I think I'd go nuts if I didn't get to do some part of this still."

            "If you ever need help with ASL, I'm fluent."

            "Really?"

            "I had to learn languages for flights. ASL was the most important to me. I could teach you French too. My great-grandmother was fluent. Apparently my great uncle was as well, but they said he died in the war. Or went MIA. There was some debate." Everleigh paused. "You didn't need to know all of that. I'm sorry."

            "I'm sorry that this went to my bad hearing," Maverick said. "I promise I really did have a question."

            "Which was?"

            "Can I use your music app?" Maverick laughed. "I'm driving myself nuts in this silence."

            "You—"

            "Please don't mention the irony of me asking that right after talking about my hearing."

            "I was going to say you're only allowed to if you don't judge my taste."

            "Why? Got something embarrassing on there?"

            "Hate to tell you I don't have your music on there."

            "Harsh, Everleigh Meadowlark."

            "Most of my friends call me Leigh."

            "Are we friends?"

            That one caught Everleigh off guard. She had implied it, hadn't she? "I—um—"

            "You don't even have my songs on your phone."

            "No, I don't."

            "Fan of MARS, are you?" Maverick's eyes widened. Everleigh could see her screen being scrolled through in the reflection of his glasses. "Jesus, you really are a fan. Do you have two copies of the same album?"

            "I needed the deluxe edition too, Kingston."

            "And not one of my songs?"

            "You sound upset."

            "I'm hurt, Everleigh. You steal my phone and you don't even have my songs on yours?"

            "You ran into me—"

            "I'm kidding."

            "Sure you are."

            "Everleigh Meadowlark, is that country music I see on here?"

            "You're so close to losing your music privileges."

            "Josh Turner?"

            "Seriously, Kingston, if you diss Josh Turner in front of me, I'm going to revoke my consent for you to listen to my music."

            "Baby, lock the door and turn the lights down low..." Maverick sang in a half-decent country accent but ultimately was far more Saskatchewan than South Carolina. Was he from Saskatchewan? Everleigh hadn't the faintest. Somewhere in Canada. Probably. "It's a good song. I just never would've pegged you for a country kind of person."

            "I literally scheduled myself for a terrible couple of flights in a row so I could see Josh Turner in Tennessee in 2017."

            Maverick laughed. "Dedication is key."

            "Please tell me you've listened to Would You Go With Me."

            "I'm sorry to disappoint, but I'm not a country music connoisseur in spite of being born in Windsor." Maverick sighed overdramatically. "I'm making Shania Twain sad with my existence."

            "New rule: you can only listen to my music if you listen to Would You Go With Me first." Everleigh ran a hand through her bangs and fixed her hair in place. "That seems fair."

            "Thank you for letting me use it," Maverick said, "I appreciate it."

            "Please listen to MARS on repeat. It's important."

            "Oh, I will. Don't you worry."

            "But also Josh Turner."

            Maverick laughed. "Can't forget the Josh Turner."

*

Everleigh's flight to Bali wasn't too bad. For that, she was grateful. It brought her one step closer to being off and seeing family she didn't know she missed before flying somewhere as a reward for finishing exams. Well. She convinced herself she missed them. Maybe life was stressful enough that she could pretend she missed them simply to take a week off and spend time there instead of somewhere in the world where she slept with people who made her feel bad about herself.

            Bali was gorgeous. It was gorgeous every time Everleigh visited. But travelling made her want to sleep. She didn't know anyone she used like Donny in Bali so the moment she went to her hotel room, her head hit the pillow and she took a two hour nap. The aftermath of said nap was nasty tasting breath, a stockpile of drool on her pillow, and hair spiked in too many directions after she gelled it back after her shower earlier that morning.

            Most people would go to the pool, find somewhere nice to swim. Everleigh, on the other hand, pulled her laptop out of her suitcase without leaving the comfort of the covers, and pulled up the copy of Scream 2 that she'd downloaded before she left for Brisbane. There was something to say about staying in bed and watching her favourite movie. Everleigh didn't have to think about studying when Dewey Riley was on her screen.

            She'd seen it enough times that the only thing that jumpscared her was Maverick's ringtone blasting Lizzo's Rumours in her ear when she was half asleep to the sound of Sarah Michelle Gellar running up the stairs.

            "You really need to start texting before you call. You scared the shit out of me." Everleigh pressed the space bar on her laptop to pause the movie.

            "Oh."

            Everleigh's eyes widened. That wasn't Maverick. That was a woman. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry—"

            "No, I'm sorry. I didn't realize he had company over." A throat cleared. "Can you get him to call me? I need to talk to him."

            "I'm—" Everleigh ran a hand through her tangled hair and fought the cringe that threatened to take over her body. "I'm Everleigh. Who's this?"

            "Esmé. Mav's sister."

            "You call him Mav when you have the same last name?"

            "He prefers it."

            "I find Kingston works if you insist."

            "Tell that to our poor mother next time he tells her to call him Mav at Christmas dinner."

            Everleigh laughed tiredly. "Sounds about right."

            "Dare I ask why he's not answering his own phone?" Esmé asked. "Please tell me he hasn't hired another assistant for his personal line."

            "It's dumber than that, I promise."

            "Oh, Lord." Esmé sighed. "Hit me with it. We're on the line anyway."

            "Would you believe me if I said he ran into me and now I have his phone for the foreseeable future?"

            "God, Mav." Esmé laughed. "Somehow that's better than the idea of a random hookup of his answering his phone while he showers."

            "Do the hookups happen often?"

            "Oh, sweet Jesus," Esmé said. "Tell me he doesn't still have Rhylan as his wallpaper."

            "Sore spot?"

            "I don't know who you are to him, but he has to tell you that one himself."

            "Sorry I asked."

            "Can you please change the wallpaper for him? He doesn't have the balls to do it himself."

            "What should I change it to?"

            "Something fun. Something he might enjoy. I don't care if you find it on Pinterest, but he needs something new for all that is good and holy in this world."

            "Will do."

            "Thanks, Everleigh," Esmé said. "Do you think you could give me the phone number he's using? It's just... it's important. I'm sorry. I wouldn't do it otherwise."

            "No, yeah, of course." Everleigh made sure that Esmé had something to write her number down and told her it. "I hope you get a hold of him."

            "I hope so too. Thank you."

            "Let me know if there's anything else I can do."

            "I will." Esmé laughed. A similar laugh to her brother, really. Close enough that if she'd started the call, Everleigh probably wouldn't have known it wasn't Maverick. "Promise not to scare the shit out of you next time. I'll text first."

            "Appreciate it." Everleigh laughed.

            "I gotta see if I can get him before he starts performing. Catch you later, Everleigh."

            "Nice to meet you, Esmé."

            Esmé hung up and left Everleigh alone with her thoughts. Which lead to her pressing the space bar a little too quickly on her computer to drown them out.

            Dewey Riley was the perfect way to fall asleep. Everleigh barely noticed any negative fleeting thoughts as she drifted off again to the sound of Neve Campbell answering the phone.