Dedicated to my sergeant. Perennially grateful, wonderfully adoring.

-

I was sweating, my heart was racing, and I felt like I was going to vomit all together. A trio of symphony my body was ready to play— especially the last part — but it was out of sheer will and the fact that I was in the New Library with Esther and Ella crowding beside me no less, and Ross' face perfectly chiseled across Ella's phone, that I manage to reign in the little food I ate for lunch.

Instead, I was heaving rapidly and going into a cold sweat.

"Are the results in yet?" Ella moaned, exasperated. "The phone is heavy."

Esther threw her a look as if she couldn't believe she was existing right now.

Ella stuck her tongue out at her. "Leave me alone, I'm getting out of a flu."

"Refresh, refresh, refresh," Ross chanted from the phone. Someone shushed him, hearing this through his earphones, even jogging on a treadmill, shouted through the tiny speakers, "Oh get over yourself, Matthew Jameson— yeah, I know it's you, you nosy prick, don't think I won't tell what you did in Evans' party last week — Esther, refresh!"

"I am refreshing, dick!" Esther grounded her teeth, fingers a blur of non movement apart from the nonstop clicks.

Ella turned to me, frown deepening. "Naddy is turning green..."

"Breathe, Naddy dear," Ross said comfortingly, then turned to Esther again, just to be a dick. "Refresh, Esther!"

"Cào ni mā!"

Then the screen from the blank white on my laptop changed.

"Names!" Ella screamed joyously.

Shushes echoed around. A student volunteer popped by again, his frown deeper than the last time. "If you don't keep it down, we're really going to have to ask you to —"

Esther stood up and air pumped. " — SHE GOT IN, BITCHES!"

Ross screamed with Ella from the phone, and I was left like a gift unwrapped, all my wrappers and peanut foams unspooled around my heaving chest, relief— oh, sweet relief and excitement — palpable, staring at my name in between four others.

I couldn't help it, despite everyone else screaming— Ella in joy, Ross and Esther fighting the volunteers — I was crying.

My work was going to be showcased.

With friends like Ella Ambrose and Ross Beauchard, it would be impossible to achieve something great without throwing an entire party about it.

So the night before I was going to leave for the city, a party was in full swing in my apartment. With an approval from my landlord and the other tenant to use the backyard and play some promised mellow music, with Ross swinging in with his usual charming self to help his cause. An approval that I didn't even know he asked about until he flashed finger guns at my landlord and threw him a beer.

"Since when have you been friends with my landlord?"

Ross laughed eagerly, pushing me back to my apartment so we could finish setting up. "It's all about the connections, Naddy baby, I already taught you this. And it is very important to me that I'm friends with your landlord. Either that, or his biggest fucking problem."

By ten thirty pm, the party was in full swing. Someone was figuring out if mellow music was better than strobe light techno right now, a ping pong battle in the backyard, and a couple flirting right outside my bathroom— I had my friends around me, a champagne in one hand, and Ross grinned, raising his glass behind yellow-tinted shades and a silky shirt he thrifted that only looked good on good looking people.

"Salud!"

"Salud," we echoed.

Ella placed her glass on a table, then slung her arms around me. She smelled of her favourite party perfume— a sharp, spicy sweetness that lingers, and the glitter that was dusted on her eyes and shoulders shook and flew at every movement.

"I am so incredibly proud of you, Naddy dear," she whispered in my cheek. "But why is your boyfriend sitting in a chair, scrolling through his phone with a glum look on his face, and sipping a beer? For a bartender, he sure does have... simple tastes." Ella wrinkled her nose. "It's not even a good kind."

"He doesn't want me to go," I whispered back.

"To the showcase? Oddly romantic but also incredibly naive." Se leaned back. Her blonde hair was in a stream of straightness, the rouge in her cheeks were dark, with heart-shaped paint on either corner of her eyes dazzled. "Please tell me you're still going?"

I made a face. "Of course I am."

She nodded, satisfied. "Good."

"Ella darling, please stop hogging Naddy's attention," Ross butted in. "I want a dance too."

"He's like a child," Ella mused, loud enough for most to hear. "Constant attention, pouting. Next thing you know, he's threatening a tantrum."

Esther snorted.

Ross pulled me away, twirling me around before swaying us together. "You wish you were me."

Ella stuck her tongue out. Ross stuck his tongue out too.

Esther rolled her eyes, already downing another drink. "You're both adults."

"Adults are all stiff drinks, taxes, and mortgage. Youth is our epicentre right now, and youth is a gift. If you want to act all aged, have at it."

Claudia cheered. "Viva la immortal!" She was drunk and a strong fan of the entire room as they screamed her sentiments. Bucky laughed.

"Don't laugh yet, Choi, you're doing shots with us." Esther pulled him whilst Claudia and Ella began chanting 'shots, shots, shots' like a brainwashing cult. Rema pulled a full tequila bottle I definitely did not have, limes and my salt shaker. The room echoed their viva la immortal sentiments again, trying to find someone to do body shots. Bucky, for the most part, looked terrified. He was at the center like a lamb for slaughter.

"This is not a mellow party at all," I said, amused.

Ross rolled his eyes. "Let them have fun, granny, you were young once." I slapped his arm. "And we're doing this because no one else can come to the city but me. Everyone wants to celebrate you now when they can. It's a brilliant achievement, Nadine. Be proud of yourself."

I grinned, flipping my hair back. "Of course I am."

"Yes, well, I think you'll need to hold on to that ego tonight." His mouth fluttered to my temple. "Bartender is moving towards us. He does not look happy."

I sighed, already untangling myself from Ross. "He hasn't been happy since he came. He was waiting for me to approach him and ask him what his problem was, but his entire shit was tiring me out so I didn't even try. He could try to at least not look like he's having a shit day, for me at least, just for today, but his inability to even fake a smile is pissing me off."

"That's the attitude." He smirked as Jason approached us, chest puffed, shoulders stiff.

He turned fully to Ross, almost as if he was intimidating him. Ross was shorter but he was wearing heeled boots right now, and only raised an eyebrow at the glowering look sent his way.

"Yes?" Ross asked innocently.

"Can I borrow my girlfriend?"

Ross smiled. It was a biting one. Dangerous. "You can ask her."

"It's fine," I cut in, feeling the tension. I spun to find the least populated area apart from my room because god knows I didn't want to be in a confined place with Jason right now. "Let's go out back."

Just as we were leaving, Ross called out. "And for future reference— don't use the word borrow when referring to your girlfriend. She's not a crayon you're asking from your teacher."

Rema, taking a selfie with Bucky who has a lime between his lips, snorted loudly.

Jason turned back, his face purpling, but I pushed his chest. "Move on."

"You're letting him talk to me like that?"

My eyes were cold. "He has a point." I didn't wait for him and walked out first. A lot of those outside noticed the look on my face and dispersed back in. Great. I was going to have rumors just before I left campus. "Is it okay for me to ask now what's your problem or are you going to continue to look like you're suffering from the shits?" I asked before I could even fully turn. "You could at least fake being happy for me."

"But I am not happy about it, Nadine," he said. "You're going to New York. For five days."

"I offered for you to come."

"You know I can't. I have — "

" — You have work, I know. That's why I understood that you couldn't come. And I was fine with that. That's why Ella and Ross threw the party. So people I care about here and who cares about me, can come celebrate one of the most special days of my life. And it's just five days. What the hell's the big deal?"

He exhaled through his nostrils. "What about your classes?"

"I would be exempted, even the school knows that this is an opportunity for me. I won it. I'm not going to let it go." My eyes narrowed. "Are you really asking me— not even point blank by the way — to not go to my own showcase?"

"It's the city," he said, as if this explained everything.

"I am aware it's an urbanized place dense with more people than trees. I am aware of what that is. I went attended first grade."

"Stop being sarcastic, it's five days. With Ross."

"Ross is my friend," I said, flabbergasted. "We're not like that, which is absurd why I have to defend my relationship with him by the way. I invited everyone– you, who I'm dating, included — and he was the only one available to go."

Jason ran his hands through his hair, growing more agitated. He knew he was losing and he didn't like it. If it wasn't pissing me off, I'd have rolled my eyes.

You let yourself date this loser, Nadine. This loser.

Sex wasn't even that great.

"You're being selfish," he said. "You already won the thing, congratulations, but you don't need to be there, right? They're going to present your stuff without you in it, it's still possible."

I was stilted, tilting into a corner where my blood had gone cold from disbelief. My annoyance graduated from pissed off to not even caring anymore. "Did you just call me selfish? Selfish? You went to Long Island for a job, I didn't call you selfish when you didn't contact me once."

"You said you were okay with it!"

"I was okay with it! I had work to do!"

"Long Island was the weekend, barely two fucking days." His eyes darkened. "This is five days. Five. Don't you even care about us? There are a lot of things that could happen in a week. With a guy. In five fucking days."

I crossed my arms, gritting my teeth. "You don't have to repeat the number, I'm aware of my own goddamn trip. And I am not the one being selfish. You are. It isn't selfish of me to pursue shit I worked hard for. It's selfish of you to guilt trip and try to stop me. If you really cared about us, about me, you would be proud. You won't try and stop me."

He made a face. "You're not even that good, Nadine. Who's to say you didn't get lucky?"

That one broke the cold. I took a step back, shocked and hurt. Then the blood rushed back. "Fuck you. I'm not going to take art critique from a bartender. When you understand the difference between Michaelangelo and Da Vinci, you tell me. Because right now, I can't handle this. I refuse to handle a man child who doesn't trust his girlfriend, who hinders her future, and who gets jealous of her best friend. We're done, asshole. Get the fuck out of my house."

I wish I could say that was my most dramatic breakup.

It wasn't. But it was the first time I ever had a public fight. And my dumbass friends, while I sat on the grass, staring up at the sky, didn't even close the sliding as they discussed who was gonna go out to try and comfort me.

I swear to God, I think they even drew lots. And played rock, paper, scissors.

In the end, it was Bucky who groaned as he sat beside me, tangling his legs together.

"Okay there, old man?" I cleared my throat when it went out too tightly.

He huffed out a laugh. "Give me a sec here."

I didn't want to look at him. I was tired and embarrassed, and if I looked at him, I swear to God I was going to cry. Not because I dumped an idiot, but because I dated said idiot.

Claudia was right. My track record was perfect. Now I wonder how low did I sink not to notice?

Jason was, to my chagrin, a desperate pull.

He exhaled, pulling my thoughts apart. Then with a momentous greeting of, "hey."

I sighed, smiling despite myself. "How'd you lose?"

"I didn't. Esther did. Then... she said she can't handle mushy stuff and Claudia sent me."

"You mean she refused to handle mushy stuff. Esther does not do The Mush. She even refuses to watch animations, even family friendly ones. She said she watched one animated film as a kid, cried, then swore off cute stories and replaced them with strewn guts and flying spit. She once watched this film about cannibals. People who were in an airplane that crashed and were stranded on an island and had to survive. It was brutal and disgusting. She wrote a short story inspired by it. I couldn't eat anything past vegetables and fruits for a week."

Bucky made a face. He coughed. "Oh... that's... wow."

I exhaled out a laugh. "Yeah."

A silence.

"Are you okay?" He winced. "That's stupid, don't answer that."

I laughed again, this time stronger. "You can't order me around, I will answer you. Yes. No. Well, not really."

"I'm sorry about Jason."

"He's a dick, I'm not sad about that." I was perfectly clear about my feelings on that part of the breakup. He was a shame on my record, but that was it. "I'm more pissed that when he referred to my art as 'not that good'," Even when I did the air-quotes, the reminder made my throat thick. "— I genuinely got hurt. Even if yes, he's a nobody who has a questionable to none eye for art, and who, in fact, did not know the difference between Michaelangelo and Da Vinci at all, or the Kahlo was a woman —"

Bucky snorted.

"— but I've never been good with bad rep. Even constructive criticism kicks stings to me, no matter how constructive. But at least I can have something to work with. Insults are a different matter, even if it came from a dumbass or a point of anger." I pulled my knees to my chest, sighing. "It hits. I've been called a sore loser by my brother more than once. Mom says it's an endearing quality, it helps with goals but I don't know."

"Well. There's nothing wrong with getting motivated and fired up."

"Even out of pettiness?"

He smiled. "Especially out of pettiness. But it's also okay to feel that way about constructive criticism. It just means you poured your heart and soul into the thing that you made. The mere idea of creation, something we learned from God, is an amazing thing in itself." At my pointed stare, chin on my knee, he blushed. He was a few shots in so he was already red. He just got redder. "I was raised catholic. I pull my metaphors where it suits me."

"Sexy."

He bumped my shoulder and I bumped him back.

The air felt cool, cooler in days. Almost biting but I felt refreshed.

In this proximity, our shoulders and hips touching, he was warm. Toasty. It felt nice. I just hoped that in my short dress and black tights, he didn't notice I was leaning more into him to scavenge for warmth.

He cleared his throat, voice warm like honey and sunshine. "But he's wrong to say crap like that. And it's a mistake to take it as a blow. You're amazing, Nadine Lynch. And I am saying this as an architect student who has hell of a lot more credentials with Art history and you know, lines."

I smiled. "Thanks. I'm just upset. I just wanna feel a little upset."

"You can. If you don't mind, I just wanna be here with you."

"I'd like that."

Then quiet. The wind whipped a particular sharp sting that I struggled not to obviously shiver. The sky was open and a few stars winked. Soon, the first inch of snow was going to fall. A teardrop then a flurry. Before we know it, we would be buried in inches of snow.

But that was still then, and now, I felt Bucky move, warm arms surrounding my shoulders. Then Bucky's voice, soft and a little jerky, singing a Korean song. Half of his words were swallowed.

"... Are you drunk?"

"Shh." But even that was too close. I felt his voice in my hair. I felt it in my skin, my bones. I froze. "This is what my grandma did when we were kids and upset. It's an old kid's song. I don't know most of the lyrics, so excuse my own betrayal to my roots."

I laughed under my breath, but I couldn't help it. He was warm and comfortable. I leaned against him, not fully trusting him with my weight if he was inebriated enough to start singing me a song because I was upset, but he rocked me a little bit, like I was actually a kid who just scraped her knee.

Oddly, the feeling it brought mirrored my mother's mama, babushka, reciting Russian love poetry to me when I was a kid. Aslan never got to meet her, so all my memories of her were precious. Or when Nika played songs from her time in Thailand, growing up to the same fifties and sixties songs her mother was obsessed to, when she cooked.

It didn't matter that half the poetry that mama said were probably not fit for children, or that Nika was rarely in key when she sung— the same warmth spread across my chest. It felt like I was looking at someone's love, through a window, being shared by anyone who witnessed it. A love letter still sealed, addressed to someone else, but you know its existence as a love letter.

I laughed under my breath when Bucky, not remembering most of the words, tripped on them and hummed most of it.

When he stopped, I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his cheek.

"Thank you, Bucky Choi. You're very sweet."

He blinked, frozen. I smiled. He tilted my chin up and kissed me.

The winds rustled, the music dimmed, and when Bucky leaned back, half surprised by his own actions, I pulled him back to me and kissed him again. Kissed him gently, kissed him warmly. He tasted like tequila and citrus. Salt and hums.

I decided I liked kissing Buchanan Choi.

Because this chapter is already at 3k (dies inside), a bonus scene right after the events of ahem ahem, Bucky and Naddy making out, has been removed from this and posted on my tumblr. It's a relatively short scene but still kind of cute and I loathed to truly omit anything, so check the external link for a snazzy bit~

+

TRANSLATIONS. This is nothing but profanity, but if you're curious—

Cào ni mā, 操你妈 = fuck your mom

Thrilling stuff.