...so i'm thinking about starting a roleplay and i already know it's a bad idea cause i have two unfinished books that i never update but whatever i love breaking promises!

someone please tell me this is a bad idea.

anyways, enjoy this long-awaited update!

~anna

somewhere, sometime, someplace

Keefe's POV:

Okay, so I guess it's official now. Naomi's been planning for hours exactly how I'm going to ask Sophie out on a date, mostly so she can get us out of the house to do who knows what (probably host a party or something, knowing her), but also to help us with our practically nonexistent love life.

That hits a little too close to home. Who knew that an 8-year-old could be so perceptive? Definitely not Foster, given that she's oblivious to practically everything in life.

(Including my not-so-secret crush on her, thank God.)

(Imagine if she found out? That would probably be the second-biggest accident to ever occur in the Lost Cities, right behind the Great Gulon Incident.)

(Sophie's still mad that she hasn't been able to figure out what happened during that infamous day at Foxfire. Well, too bad - I'm not telling her, and I don't think Fitz will either.)

"Daddy!" shouts Naomi, banging on my bedroom door. "I can hear you overthinking everything and it's giving me a headache, so you better stop!"

I can't decide if I've done a brilliant job bringing her up or utterly failed as a parent. Honestly, it's up for interpretation.

"Mommy wants to talk to you! Remember what we planned!" she shouts again, which only adds to my mounting headache. Naomi has two volumes, deafening and slightly less loud but definitely still screaming. She needs to have an off-button, I swear.

(I would be a horrible parent. Someone please remind me in the future if I ever even consider the thought of having kids.)

(Then again, I've got three of them - I can't have done as horrible of a job as I think I will.)

(But then we have to take into account Malik's self-absorbance. And Favian's obsession with books. And Naomi's... Naomi-ness.)

(Parenting is hard. And I've only been here for a week or so, not to mention a few decades.)

Oh right. Sophie wants to see me.

...and then I'm going to have to ask her out. On a date.

When did my life get so complicated?

Really, Naomi's just making it unnecessarily more so. Why do we have to keep up a false pretense of being a happy family? My family certainly isn't, what with the evil father and slightly more literally evil mother. Aren't most families dysfunctional, for that matter?

(Excluding the Vackers, but they don't really count. Something's wrong with the whole bunch, no one is that perfect all the time. It's insulting, honestly.)

"Hey, Sophie," I practice in the mirror, lowering my voice slightly and trying not to look like I'm trying too hard. (I'm definitely trying too hard. This is not off to a good start.) "I mean. Hello," I try again, looking distinctly uncomfortable.

I am very bad at pretending.

Then why pretend?

What if I just... asked her out like I've always wanted to? Made it seem fake, but everything came from the heart? Made her believe that I was doing it just for laughs, but really I was asking her on a real date?

.

.

.

Nah, that would backfire in my face horrifically. I'll just come up with something on the spot. My improv is better than practicing, if we're being honest.

I mean, it's a 50-50 shot either way. She'll either say yes or no, and in front of the kids that basically means she'll have to say yes.

I walk out into the kitchen, trying not to look utterly terrified. Sophie is sitting on one of the chairs with a steaming mug in one hand, eye-bags prominent and expression flat.

"Keefe," she says seriously. "I've been thinking."

"Wow, who would have guessed?" I joked, because apparently my improv is very bad now, which is not great considering my current goal.

"I can't get us home. I can't even save the people I'm supposed to save. I can't even save you."

"I'm honored that I'm on your list of people to save, but don't you think that you've done more than that?" I don't say out loud, because interrupting is rude and my parents raised me with better manners than that. 

Not that they raised me well, of course. But that's a story for another day. Preferable no day, ever, because opening up about my past is something I'd rather not do.

"I'm supposed to be the Moonlark, but I can't even get a simple thing right. I can't defeat the Neverseen, I can't even get us out of here... I'm a literal piece of trash," Sophie continues, sounding very passionate but also making a lot of misinformed points.

"As someone who cares deeply about the environment, I am obligated to pick you up. Is tomorrow at seven okay?" I ask, because my improv skills are genius and making puns now, apparently.

Sophie blinks twice, very slowly. "...what did you just say?" she asks, blushing a deeper red than I thought was possible.

"Daddy, that was perfect!" cheers Naomi in the background, which honestly didn't say much given that she had never asked anyone out in her life (which I could now no longer relate to), but I appreciated the sentiment.

"Is that a yes or a no?" I asked, rapidly losing confidence but still putting on my trademark smirk.

Sophie grins, wider than I was expecting (but I'm not complaining, it's better than an outright no.) "Are you kidding? Of course I'll go on a date with you!"

I wasn't expecting her to be so excited, but her enthusiasm is much appreciated. It adds to my ego.

I walk with my head in the clouds for the rest of the day, not quite able to keep the smile off my face. Naomi comments on it maybe three-hundred times, give or take. She's a little gremlin, that one. I'm a brilliant father, thank you very much. I don't know how Not-Me did it.

I've got a date with Foster. And she said yes!

And then I remember. It's not really a date. And she didn't really say yes, because, well, she couldn't exactly so no in front of our children, could she?

And well. That's enough to wipe the grin right off my face.

Because it's not as if I'll ever actually land a date with Foster.

It's not as if she'll ever actually say yes.

This is all just a ruse, set up for Naomi's sake.

This isn't real. It's just me pretending.

(It has to end, and soon. I'm not sure how much longer I can go living my dream life while knowing that Foster's just faking. It'll tear me apart from the inside.)

(One date. That's all we've got. And then we're going to figure out how to go home, and Sophie will marry Fitz like she's always wanted to. And I'll wait there on the sidelines, like I always have. And soon enough, she'll forget about me.)

(Because that's how it was always going to end up.)

(Right?)

because we are physically incapable of ending a chapter without saying "right?"

also... keefe you smooth bastard that was brilliant

*applause*

please name the dots on the last chapter, i want more comments lol. mine is named bob, see if you can find him?

~anna

WORD COUNT: 1305