Are you coming to Mav's first show in Vegas? It's on New Year's Day. I saw a profile documenting your relationship in the Daily Mail (don't ask, I promise I think they're a bunch of bozos I just get nosey about what people think about my brother) and it said the first time you were spotted together was New Year's Eve at the MARS concert. Second time was the morning after and I don't want to talk about THAT per se but IT COULD BE A COOL HAPPY ONE YEAR TO WHATEVER YOU WERE AT THAT TIME!! (If you weren't actually dating I retract my statement—mom and I don't know when you started dating because he wouldn't shut the hell up about you practically from the moment you switched phones.) Please come to his concert. I've seen the setlist, it's going to be bangin'.

            That was a lot, I'm sorry.

            Are you coming to the New Year's Day show? Mom wants to know because she wants to wear the colours of his album. She damn well died when she saw what you guys wore at the Escape Velocity party and wants to do it for Vegas. I don't want to be the one to break her heart that someone's going to have to look like Sleeping Beauty when the fairies are arguing over what colour her dress should be??? Because Mav chose pink and blue as the only colours??? Unless you want to dress in black and white??? Fuck dude I don't know, mom's on another planet with excitement. It's weird. She did this for the premiere of my first show too and it was embarrassing. (Then again, I'm not above embarrassing Mav.) (Obivously.)

            Now I'm just spewing. I'm sorry. Let me know what you're thinking, little Brit. We can pick you up from the airport if you'd like. We're going to stay in Vegas with him for a couple days.

            hey, Es, i don't think i can make it to vegas. potentially at all. please send pictures? would love to see you and Mags in your pink and blue.

            It took about 11 seconds for Esmé to call Everleigh.

            "God fucking—" Everleigh sighed and picked up the phone. "Hi, Esmé."

            "I know my brother's stupid but whatever he did, you guys are meant for each other."

            "This one's on me," Everleigh said.

            "I think you both think it's your fault and that's dumb," Esmé said. "Have you two spoken since he came back here?"

            "He wished me happy birthday the other day," Everleigh said.

            "I'm going to beat the shit out of him."

            "Please don't."

            "He looks sad and you sound sad and this is all bullshit and not how it's supposed to go."

            "Esmé," Everleigh said. "It's okay."

            "It's not okay, what the fuck?"

            "Esmé—" The hushed, quick tone in the background on her side of the line was clearly Maverick. He sounded like he just woke up. Everleigh was going to be sick that she knew that from a single word. "What are you doing—"

            "I need you to stop being stupid and if that means taking matters into my own hands—"

            "Oh my God, you're talking to Everleigh?"

            "Who else would I phone—"

            "Es, give me the phone."

            "No."

            "Esmé."

            "Kingston." Esmé's voice was mocking. Probably not helping her case. Probably not helping Maverick not be mad at her for meddling in his life.

            Everleigh heard a smack a little too close to the phone. Esmé's growled ow sold the fact Maverick had taken a swing at her—likely on the shoulder.

            "Phone. Now."

            "You're not my dad."

            "Joke's on you, we don't know dad—"

            "Not the time, Maverick—"

            "Stop gatekeeping—"

            "Go get a dictionary."

            "Es—"

            "I want to smack you over the head with it because I am not gatekeeping your girlfriend—"

            "You kind of are—" Maverick's voice was closer. "Give me the phone—" 

            "No."

            Loud, thundering footsteps sounded. Esmé screeched in Everleigh's ear before a door slammed. If she'd been with Maverick, Everleigh would've lost her top for the jump that earned.

            "Stay out, we'll talk after."

            "Fuck you."

            "Fuck you!" Esmé was calmer when she came back to Everleigh. "I'm sorry about that."

            "Can you please tell Kingston we should talk soon, but maybe not right now?"

            "I... yeah." Esmé was out of breath. Probably ran up the stairs. "Sorry. I shouldn't have riled him up."

            "No, that's not..." Everleigh trailed off. "I want to think about what I want to say."

            "I hope you guys are okay."

            "I hope so too."

            "You're sure you can't come to Vegas?"

            "I can't come to Vegas."

            Esmé's voice was quiet when she spoke again. "Is that, like, a you guys being awkward or is it a you legitimately can't?"

            Everleigh pulled her phone away from her ear and muted her side of the conversation for a moment before drawing in a deep breath. No. It wasn't certain that she would have secured a job in under two weeks when the year ended. But there was a chance.

            If she flew to Vegas for New Year's Day, she'd want to stay the entire time. Because Everleigh loved him. She wanted to see the way his eyes lit up when he sang, wanted him to spot her in the crowd and smile like the concert hall was only the two of them. Hell, she wanted to be there for when he was late and decided that to make up for it, he'd debut another new song. Everleigh wanted to be there for him, no matter her own personal cost. It was one of the many reasons she hadn't agreed to go with him. When it came to Maverick, sometimes it felt like all or nothing. Risk seeing him once every four months or stick to his side like glue. Deal in only polar opposites of the relationship spectrum and never consider anything in between.

            Everleigh unmuted herself. "I legitimately can't."

            Esmé was quiet again. Probably had the same sort of frown that Maverick did—almost more confused than frustrated. "We'll send you pictures for sure."

            "Thank you."

            "I'm sorry you can't make it."

            "I'm sorry, too."

            "If there is something more going on with my brother—" There was. They both knew it. "—please know that I've never seen him love someone as much as he loves you. And I've seen him fall in love a 1001 times. But never quite like this. You make him better. I know I've only met you once, but I'd argue he makes you better, too."

            "He does."

            "Promise me you'll talk to him soon?"

            "I promise."

            "Not in the same way Rhylan told her she'd talk to him soon and then next thing we knew, he was cancelling his wedding venue?"

            Everleigh's heart shot up to her throat. And there she was. Considering buying a ticket to Windsor even though they were taking a moment away. She'd pay for a roundtrip to kiss him once and make sure he knew she loved him.

            "I'm not her."

            "I'd hate to say it, but he is my stupid brother," Esmé said. "You know I have to take his side on this as much as I love you. Please don't hurt him."

            "If I can help it, I won't break his heart."

            "You better not."

            "I promise."

*

I'm sorry about her. She likes to stick her nose in places it doesn't belong. I promise I didn't ask her to call you. Or ask you to Vegas.

            it's okay.

            Are we good? She said you wanted to talk soon.

            we're good.

            Good.

            we're good, right?

            Doing okay in my books, Meadowlark.

*

Everleigh knocked a third time on Roman's front door. It wasn't normal for him not to answer. She didn't like using her key when she knew he was home, but that seemed like extenuating circumstances.

            "Roman?"

            "Oh, God, Leigh. Hi. Sorry. Living room."

            Everleigh bent down, scratched Dewey behind the ears, and let him off his leash. Like he had every time Everleigh had brought him over, Dewey scrambled to Navi's room. Roman had put a bed in there for him the moment he'd realized Dewey loved Navi and adored being near her.

            "Are you okay?" Everleigh asked, walking toward the living room.

            Roman's voice sounded shaky. "No."

            Everleigh found him sitting in his recliner, a glass of what Everleigh hoped wasn't the same Fireball from her birthday in his hand. A shot at midnight? Sure. A entire shot glass? No. "Do I ask..."

            "I feel like sometimes people screw over people we love and it sucks when there's nothing we can do about it."

            "Can I have..." Everleigh looked around. Light footsteps tread into the room. She took a seat on the end of the couch farthest from him. "... context?"

            "Can I paint you a picture?"

            Christ. "Sure."

            "Ignoring that you're in a weird place and all," Roman said, "imagine Maverick gets this opportunity—no, wait. Okay. I got this. So, Mav is up for a Grammy, right? For The L. The one where Stevie sang you a ballad or whatever the hell."

            "Do not brush that verse off—"

            Roman rolled his eyes. "I'm not—"

            "That is my favourite singer singing a song about me—"

            "Stop."

            "Don't disrespect her."

            "I'm not disrespecting Stevie," Roman said. "But the duo performance or whatever—don't come for me, I don't watch the Grammys—Mav is up for it. Right?"

            "MARS and Kingston."

            "Oh my God, Leigh, whatever."

            "Yes. They're up for it."

            "What would you do if he lost it? Like, it's the number one song in the world right now and it's breaking records," Roman said, "and someone else got the duo award. No. Wait. Okay. Here. Let's say that this song has been hyped up all the time and then, I don't know, someone corrupted the original file and they couldn't play it on the radio any more or something, I don't know how music works."

            Everleigh winced. "Maybe not quite like that, but files can be corrupted for sure."

            "Okay, so, stay with me," Roman said. "Because of the hiccup, they get bumped to five when they should be one on the charts."

            Everleigh raised an eyebrow. "Are you trying to get in for surgery or something—"

            "If you stop asking questions, we'll get there sooner."

            "We're not even close, are we?"

            "Eh."

            "Crikey. Okay."

            "So they're at five which, you know, isn't bad, but it's not one," Roman said. "And then they go to the Grammys and someone other duo or group or whatever wins the trophy. How would you feel?"

            "How would I feel, or how would Kingston feel?" Even though he wasn't there with her, Everleigh was still putting Maverick before her.

            "How would you feel?" Roman asked. "If you saw that. And you couldn't do anything about it to make him feel better or change the results."

            "Did the Grammys happen and I didn't know about it?"

            "I don't know," Roman said. "I doubt it."

            "I guess it would suck, I mean. I've watched him be disappointed before and it felt like my stomach dropped out of my ass and like my lungs were punctured," Everleigh said. "Is that what you mean?"

            Roman looked like he was going to cry again. And, indeed, a couple tears fell while he took a long drink from his glass. "Yeah."

            "Did something happen to Nav?" Everleigh asked. "Or—or you?"

            Roman shook his head and croaked, "No."

            "Your mum—my mum? Pa?"

            "Leigh, everyone's fine."

            "What about Florence?"

            "I mean, she might be pregnant, but that's not it."

            "She's what?"

            Roman's eyes widened in panic. "You didn't hear that from me." He took another long drink from his glass. "Do not repeat that."

            "No, start talking."

            Roman looked at Everleigh. "Well, I'm assuming you know how it happened. I did walk in that one time with Maverick even though you two are being kind of awkward—"

            "That was not the kind of talking I wanted to hear from you."

            (That was a terrible morning.) (Maybe Everleigh should've taken Roman's key from him sooner, that was on her.) (Roman had walked in after Everleigh and Maverick had maybe a few too many mimosas for breakfast and not any actual food.) (The champagne made it easier for them to be themselves as they transitioned into Maverick going home for the winter—maybe that meant he was Persephone and she was Hades.) (Whichever deities they were didn't fucking matter when the only semblance of a shirt Everleigh had on that morning was Maverick's hands and there was a lot of screaming while Maverick threw a blanket on her and Roman requested bleach after running face first into the door frame with a hand over his eyes.)

            "I am... processing that but I'm almost happy. We haven't confirmed it, but the... the nipple soreness is back."

            "Roman—"

            "But that's not what I'm crying about so let's stop talking about it."

            "What the hell are you crying about, then?"

            "Roman? Love? Can I get a hand with the car?" Everleigh assumed Florence had swung the front door open. She sounded a little breathless.

            "Leigh's here. I'm moping. Please get her to help you, lovely."

            Florence poked her head into the living room, leaning away from the paper bags that looked unbalanced in her arms. "Hi, Leigh." She looked pointedly at Roman. "Have you moved since I left for the Tesco?"

            Roman held two fingers up. "Our daughter needed changed and I had to take a piss."

            "My hero." Florence rolled her eyes. "Please stop moping."

            "Why are we moping?"

            "You didn't tell her?" Florence asked. She looked at Everleigh again. "Brendon Ellis lost in Brazil."

            Everleigh got up from the couch and promptly smacked Roman in the head.

            "Ow—"

            "Twat."

            "I'm allowed to be upset."

            "Yeah, you are, but not to the point I think you're about to jump off Tower fuckin' bridge—"

            "He should have won, they kept fucking him over!"

            Everleigh threw her hands up. "I hate you. I can't do this."

            "First his tyres last race, now this—"

            "Flo, what do you need help with?"

            "Groceries. Please."

            "Absolutely."

            "That silence is loud coming from someone who cried when she found out David Arquette was returning for Scream 5," Roman said. "Hypocrite."

            Everleigh held a pointed finger up at him. "It's just Scream."

            "Oh, for fuck's sake—"

            "It's a requel."

            "You're a fucking nerd."

            "I'm not blubbering over Formula One."

            "Bet you Stevie cried." Roman crossed his arms. Matter-of-factly. And he was probably right.

            "That's likely more because she's in love with him, not because she's a twat."

            "Maybe I'm in love with him too—"

            "Hey, baby," Florence said, "It's me. Your wife. The one you married last month and have been with a long time before that. Want to help with the groceries I bought because you were sad and didn't want to leave the house?"

            Roman pushed himself up from his seat and walked between the sisters. "Yes, ma'am."

            "For the record," Everleigh said, "I have intel that Bash and Stevie are together. So you're safe now. For whatever that's worth."

            Florence laughed. "Now?"

            "Well. I told Bash he could interrupt your wedding to object and marry Roman."

            "Oh, goody," Florence said. "You're conspiring against me and he's crying over zroom zroom cars."

            Everleigh snorted loudly. "It's vroom vroom."

            "God, is it?" Florence laughed. "Crikey."

            "This is why Bash is going to win him over."

            Florence put the grocery bag down on the bench near their front door purely so she could flick Everleigh in the forehead. "Go unload."

            Everleigh saluted her sister and headed outside.