On a night when Celia and Jo waited for a bus amongst a large group, she could feel someone soft and greasy grab her arm. With this weirding her out, her head pivoted to the direction she got grabbed to see the girl with big, red lips as the culprit.

“It’s you…” Celia fooled herself into believing it was Avorie being playful. Anyone would have been more ideal to touch her, especially that of Jo. To hold her hand with his would have been too much for her in public, especially with the negative perception someone like her would get for being in love.

Many would find it hard to believe that someone as unappealing as her could find such happiness. And she didn’t want to subject Jo to that when he already experienced hate for living with her and being her friend. Therefore, she would rather not do public displays of affection for their sake.

Acknowledging such hardship took her to her younger years, when she would have herself near the radio to hear stories of beautiful people finding true love in a world of magical beasts. These and other tales were part of a program to plant the subliminal concepts of romance into them to create the next generation of workers.

"Yes, it's me." The girl shoved a person covering their mouth from a yawn to get closer to them. They were too tired to care, so they let her off easy by telling her to be more careful.

Jo didn't want her near him. He already had enough from someone like her.

"I know it's been a while. I know you must have missed me since our last talk."

"Can you just go away? You're making us feel uncomfortable." Celia hoped she would get the message after this.

For her to learn they didn't want her felt like a stab in the chest from a nasty ice pick from the dumpster. She then slouched and berated herself for allowing herself to ruin what she felt was a potential friendship.

The red lipped girl resided in an environment where her parents overdosed on drugs and died a day apart. Her grandparents on her mother's side would take her under their wing, but soon lacked the desire to take care of a child at their advanced age. This got them to give her to her grandparents on her father's side, who were very overprotective, leading to struggles in fostering relationships like a normal person.

Celia felt conflicted to see her in this state. As a sane person, she wanted to keep hers and Jo's sanity intact. The red lipped girl gave a bad first impression that most would see as problematic. There were so many that had their own issues regarding mental health—including her best friend, but she could tell this sort of personality would leave someone like her lonely.

While many would avoid having genuine friendships with Celia because she did not fit the beauty standards of the trailer park, the red lipped girl had problems with personal space and butting into conversations that did not involve her. I think I will regret this. "Hey,... freckled girl. I didn't intend to be so mean. It's just tha—"

She had to correct her on the use of the freckled girl term. This had Danabel wondering if trying to connect with them was a mistake. "I don't need your pity. You're just trying to make a person like me feel better about my flaws."

"It's certainly not that if you must know."

Danabel straightened her body to look at her with raw shame, causing Celia to give up. She couldn't lie to her right in the face.

"You predicted right. What I just said was out of pity."

"Do you think I should take your pity after hearing this, then?"

"Well..." Celia felt stuck. If she originally didn't want their pity, then why should she let her have it?

"You know what? I'll let you choose if you want to become friends with me."

This was a burden she accepted with reluctance. To make her a true friend would help to fulfill her wish of being liked by many people. Having Avorie was not enough, and for someone to actually desire them as friends was rare. This was an opportunity to expand or not expand their personal circle. Therefore, she had to be reasonable and rational with her eventual decision.

"You can't let her make such a decision by herself." Jo had to let himself into this. It was too important for him not to. "Being friends with her basically means you'll be friends with me too."

"Okay, okay. I didn't intend to forget you." For Danabel to allow their fate as friends to be into the possession of someone who was basically still strangers to her was not nerve-racking.

If they did decide to be her friend, it would be as if a curse had lifted off her very existence. If not, then she would survive being alone like she always did.

The noise of the crowd made it hard for her to hear them while they were in discussion. This potential for misinterpretation got her to believe they rejected her, but they were swift to deny that and were very clear they would accept her as a friend.

The risk had paid off.

Danabel couldn't believe she now had people who were willing to like her. There was work to be done on her more negative traits, but fixing them would come in due time. Tonight was her night, and from her perspective, it couldn't get any better.

"Is that you, Danabel?!" The old man from before who wore a brown coat, a V-neck wool shirt, a long pants with slippers and a bottle of alcohol picked her out from the dense gathering of people.

She waved at Dinkle, which was the nickname of the old man. He never told anyone his actual name for personal reasons.

Celia was curious if this old drunk was her grandfather.

"No. My grandfather is actually at home. I would assume you would know that once you're over sixty-five, the mandatory hours for a worker are reduced."

"I admit I forgot about that."

"No worries. Everyone forgets from time to time."

The old man didn't want to trudge his way through the crowd to get to them. There were fears they would attack him for letting them possibly come into contact with a homeless person. He preferred for them to meet him across the street.

"I can't come tonight! The bus should come anytime now!"

Jo wanted her to answer if they were friends, to which she replied that they weren't 'real friends.' He needed further explanation on this. If she had a friend, then maybe she wasn't as lonely after all.

Danabel blocked the side of her mouth with her hand and turned to say this: Do you really think that a teenage girl would want to be friends with an old, homeless dude that lives in a tent?

The reasoning was watertight. Neither could see themselves being friends with an old person that lived in a tent; that was truly the lowest one could fall on the societal pyramid.

I only became friends with him because he accepted me for my quirks.

Sounds like a good foundation for any friendship. Only in Celia's dreams the average person would like her despite her faults.

I agree. But at least you now understand why I don't see him the same way he sees me.

They pulled away for her to shout that she would visit him next time with her new friends. She was happy to point them out and he was ecstatic to learn about this news.

Then an abrupt beep from a megaphone blasted their hearing. The guards were fed up of their shouting and wanted the return of peace and quiet. Their warning forced them to postpone the remainder of their talk. Dinkle was soon chased off with his hands over his ears and the crowd went back to a more palatable sound, pleasing the guards.