Destiny's POV

I'm not okay with the plan Uranus has come up with for several reasons.

We've invariably been around even if we didn't see each other daily.Someone has to keep an eye around him and comfort him because he's still not over his family's loss.If he flies somewhere, he might like it there, and he'll never return despite his promises. He'll find a place where he didn't encounter pain.

Yet, I decide to help him. I don't even know if it'll work out or not. I can't just leave him in deep water with all the pain he's been going through. When I said that I'm going to help, he seems on cloud nine. Caching my fears aside, I choose to step on it with this trip.

"First of all, do you have the money to go on holiday? I presume the gardening shop isn't making too much profit," I start, showing sincere attention.

"I've got a fair amount of money in my bank account."

"No, this is way off the mark," I denote, "you shouldn't invest all your money in one thing. Never put all your eggs in one basket."

"Then what am I supposed to do? I can't make head nor tail of what you're saying!" He says in somehow irked, "I understand what you're trying to do," he explains, exasperation clear in his reaction.

"Uranus, it's not what you're thinking," I try to illustrate my point of view, "I'm just trying to say-"

"I'm a damn adult for God's sake!"

"Look at me," I beg, feeling a little guilty, "I want you to have your money, and not to be in debt. I aspire you to be in the black!"

He looks everywhere but at me. He doesn't seem convinced.

"We don't know the exact cost of this trip of yours, but a ballpark figure would make you in debt," I say, showing way more logic than him.

"Does your smart mind have any other plans?" He mocks.

"Just let me think," I gesture my hand to tell him to wait.

I concentrate on the ways he could earn some money, but the family gardening shop isn't one of them. He neglected it since they were gone, and we can't just fix it in a fortnight. I hate when he surprises me with his spontaneous decisions. He always does this.

"What about selling your car?" I ask.

"Never in a million years," he quickly replies, without taking a moment to think about it.

"Why?"

"Because the car is the only thing that makes me remember them. It still has their scent, and still carries our memories," he says, and I suddenly figure out why he had always been fantasizing about it. I didn't think the car would mean this lot to him.

"Um...what about a makeover to the gardening shop?" I say, realizing that this is an immeasurable option.

"I'm not ready for this," he signifies, "I still don't have the guts to start over," he places his head in his hands.

I stay soundless for a while. On the spur of the moment, I bounce the idea of Uranus before he finds other excuses. "What about renting this house?"

Pausing for a while, he shows the slightest convenience, "I don't even think anyone in town would like to rent it after what happened," he clarifies sadly, "besides, I don't even-,"

I cut him off, "can you stop wearing your black-glasses for some time? We're trying to find a way to get money. Believe me, if you have no will, you'll have no way and no holiday," I urge, being the irritated one this time.

"Fine," he waves his hands in disagreement.

I sometimes feel like dealing with a child. I'm tolerant, but I sometimes can't help but feel frustrated. We've been friends through thick and thin. Uranus has been by my side whenever I needed him. He helped me out of a toxic relationship. It hadn't been for him; I might have been still used and forced to do things against my will. Because of him, I, fortunately, am back to the drawing board.

He cuts my thoughts, "do you remember when you took charge of managing our mini project five years ago?"

"Stop bringing this up every time we are in the middle of something," I blurt out.

"Oh no, I can't. You were sitting in your house, on the sofa that's in the living room, to be exact. In addition to this, you were all bossy and controlling. Not minding my remarks, constantly checking the watch," he reminds me.

"Sto-,"

"And just don't get me started on your terrible Mickey Mouse pajamas," he adds.

"I'm going to kill you, Uranus Moone," I jump to him, fighting him with the pillow.

Between uneven breaths, he continues, "We started at 8:05 pm even though you said we're going to start at 8:00 pm sharp."

"Stop pointing out every single detail, you little human journal," I chuckle, stopping the one-sided pillow fight.

He gets up, and while he's a couple of steps away, he says, "and your duck slippers make me feel like a plastic bag," he teases.

Without further ado, I'm chasing him around the house, and I keep throwing different random stuff at him.

"I hate it when you talk details to me," I yell.

_____________________________________________________________________________

After settling down, we're out of breath, no not from running, from laughter. I decide to return my focus on our main concern.

Remaining silent for so long, I even forgot that Uranus was around.

"Can I use your laptop?" I ask.

"It's all yours," he tells me, not sure what was coming up.

After a long pause, aggressive typing, devouring through webpages, and scrolling, I finally find what I have been looking for all this time.

I say, victory hugging me tightly, "I think I know what we should do!"

"Well, err... In a nutshell, we should make a Facebook Ad," I sum up, knowing that Uranus won't be less interested in my conclusion.

"Wait, weren't you supposed to say other things before this?" He asks, taken aback, but laughs.

"I know where you'll lead us, so I have to cut this story short, Uranus," I join him with the laughter.

"I like how much you understand me," he declares, " tell me more details, but not too much."

"I've surfed the internet for a while and found that we could make a Facebook Ad. Simply by logging in to a Facebook Business Manager Account and creating a New Ad Account, and-,"

In front of me, a picture is worth 1000 words. Uranus inserts his earbuds in one ear, and he lost interest. "Ignorance is bliss," I say, ranting about his insensitivity.

"Too many details," he cuts me off, "you're an actual eager beaver."

"I guess I'll take this as a compliment," I say, eager to tell him more, "prick up your ears."

"Ad a payment method, confirm the payment details, and boom you've your Ad," I bow, feeling like a magician owing to his expression.

"I didn't know this existed, I'm feeling like a new kid on the block."

"Your welcome. You have the cream of the crop," I say, " I wonder how you don't know, and you're scrolling through Facebook the entire day."

"Humble," he mumbles, "by the way, you didn't know either. You searched for it."

"Keep your chin up. We're nearly done," I announce, still giving him a hand.

"Are there other things to do?"

"Of course, there is!" I say, remarkably.

"Just say," he urges, "don't build up suspense."

"You're killing my vibes," I flip my hair, "we need to find a catchy headline for the Ad."