EEV ❤️

VIVIETTE

EVIE

MINHO AND I ARE GOING ON A DATE TONIGHT BUT IT'S LIKE A LAST MINUTE PLANNED THING SO IDK WHAT TO DO
LIKE, WHAT DO I WEAR???? HELP ME. YOURE THE QUEEN OF FASHION.

IM ON MY WAY

A few minutes later, I'm sitting in her room. Her house near the beach clearly isn't far away from ours.

Her room has four light gray walls, all of them decorated with pictures and paintings. Her bed sheets have an old pink color. Most things are either that color, or the same gray as her walls, or white. It all matches very well.

The date Minho talked about—shopping and then going to the beach—did not end up to be the date when they kissed, but he told me they were definitely close to doing it.

Evie just told me the exact same thing. So now she expects they're going to kiss on this date and she is very nervous, especially because she is afraid it'll become another ruined relationship, like in the past.

Minho said the same thing. Wow.

It's awesome to hear both sides, even when they're the same.

"Okay. Show me the options," I tell her.

She lies a few clothes down on her bed. "But I'm so basic."

"Even if you show up in a garbage bag, he'll like it. Don't worry," I say. "And you can lend from me if you want. What're you gonna do on the date?"

"Have a drink at the beach bar. I assume we'll be walking on the beach after that."

"Hm. It's important to put on something that is not too cold, but also not very hot. He has to give you his jacket during the walk. I'll make sure he gets the advice and takes a jacket with him."

I inspect her clothes. "It's December, though. Better take long-sleeves. What about... black tights, a black skirt with long, black heels, and a brown oversized sweater?"

"Girl, you are the one who makes the decisions."

"Well, do you like that idea? And do you have those clothes?"

"I'll have a look."

Turns out, she has everything. When she puts it on, I'm gaping at her for a while. "Awesome," I breathe out. "Okay, for the hair... loose isn't nice because of the wind on the beach. Half-up, half-down? With a little bun?"

"Sounds perfect."

Evie sits down on the chair in front of her makeup table. I take her hairbrush, softly running it through the blonde strands before I part it in two, making a bun out of the top part. I ruffle through the bun a bit so it gets messier.

I do my best to apply makeup on her face. She does the mascara herself, which is definitely a better option; if I would've done it, I would've probably blinded her.

"You look beautiful," I say.

She takes my hands. Looks up at me from the chair, eyes big. "Thank you so much, Vi."

A big smile grows on my face. "You're very welcome."

Evie gets up and hugs me so tightly that I worry her makeup will crumble apart, but then I relax and wrap my arms around her, too. "Seriously," she murmurs. "There won't be a single day when I'll regret walking up to you in that hallway."

"And I'm glad you did," I reply. Slowly, we let go.

She places a big fat kiss on my cheek. "Thank you! Okay, I need to show Grandma how I look. She approves of Minho, do you know that?"

With a few laughs, I follow her down the stairs, where her grandma gives her a thousand compliments.

I'm not sure why Evie lives with her grandma and her only. Minho once mentioned something about her parents. I think they were divorced, and neither of them able to take care of Evie. She moved in with her grandparents at the age of nine. Her grandpa died when she was eleven. Now Evie and her grandma take care of each other.

It's tragic but beautiful at once. Sort of.

"Okay, I'll go make sure Minho takes a jacket with him," I say. I quickly swallow the last bits of the tea Evie's grandma made me away, then get up. "It was lovely."

A giggle comes out of Evie's mouth. "I'll tell you everything tomorrow on the phone, or I'll text. Though I'm sure you'll hear from Minho."

"You better call me," I respond, sliding into my jacket. "Okay, Bye, Eev. Bye, Cynthia."

"Bye, Viviette," her grandma says. "Be careful on the streets at night. Do I need to bring you home?"

"No, it's okay. I only have to walk up the hill," I assure. "Have a good night. Bye!"

Yes, I'm terrified after what happened with Mr. Leadford, even though that happened weeks ago already. But I was so excited that I just rushed to Evie's house without thinking.

Luckily, I make my way inside the house with a safe feeling. A second later, I'm in Minho's room.

"Get up. Get ready for your date— oh, you're ready."

He's wearing a black blouse, which Minho barely wears, and a casual pair of jeans. His hair is styled, of course, and I can smell the wave of cologne that comes off him.

"Hey, stop fidgeting. You'll ruin your nails and I fixed them yesterday," I say.

"I'm nervous!" He defends. "What if she doesn't kiss back? Because I'm going to kiss her. Tonight's the night."

I sit down on his bed. "She'll kiss you back. Just find the right moment and place. Don't rush it. Make it nice."

He lets go of a long, deep breath. "Yes, okay. Noted."

I smile lightly. "You got this. You've been doing amazing the last weeks. You deserve everything you've worked for, just as Evie deserves everything she has worked for."

Minho nods, even though I can see my words don't get completely inside his head. "Got it."

"Good luck."

☯︎︎

"Why haven't we gone on a date yet?" I ask Thomas, my head resting on his shoulder as we watch SpongeBob... once again.

He had to watch Billy and Ella, so he invited me over again. Evie and Minho are currently on their date. The kids are asleep.

"Because we have busy lives," he replies, murmuring because he is half-asleep.

Why is he like a dad that falls asleep the second the TV gets turned on?

Maybe he's still tired for the days we spent on vacation. We are now in our last week of winter break, back at home. The vacation was a lot of fun. We took walks through the snow, went to little stores at the bottom of the mountain, and had cozy nights with the families beside the fireplaces. It did everyone good, especially Newt and Sonya.

We stayed less days than planned because Mom had unexpected things going on at work and Newt and Sonya weren't allowed for many days anyway.

So now we're back earlier and will be spending Christmas at home. It's in a few days and I'm way too excited to wait. I've sewed and bought twice as many presents as other years. My loved one's faces will priceless when they unpack everything. I love giving gifts.

"But I want to go on a date, too," I tell Thomas. "I want Evie to help me prepare like I helped her prepare and I want you to pay for my food."

"Since when do you need so many things?"

His eyes are literally closed right now. I doubt he knows what he's saying.

"Hey!" I hit his arm. His eyes jump wide open. "I said I want to go on a date."

"Yeah, we'll go on a date," he says, dazzled. "Right now?"

"No, not right now, you idiot. Somewhere this week. Where will we go?"

"I don't know. Cinema?"

"No."

"You asked me where we'll go, and when I reply, it's not a good reply?"

"Sorry. I'm on my period."

"Clearly— ow!"

"Never say that again."

He rubs his arm. "Sorry." Then kisses my forehead, wraps an arm around me, and pulls me close to his body. "Is that better?"

"Yes." Satisfied, I let my head on his chest. "Sorry," I then repeat. "I really sound like a brat."

"Well, you can't always be the mother."

"Fair enough."

He puts his hand on my head. Begins moving his fingers on my scalp like I always do to him. Soon, my eyes are closed, and I've dozed off.

☯︎︎

We're driving home from babysitting, late at night, and the first thing that we notice when we are able to see our houses, is the colorful lights morphing together. 

Red and blue lights.

Not the kind of lights you'd wish for it to be.

Two police cars are right in front of my house, the lights flashing. The sirens are off, though.

"Shit," Thomas murmurs. He casts a look at me, concerned. "I'll walk you in."

My heart began sinking the second I saw the cars, and now it's at the bottom of my stomach like a heavy weight. I can't seem to swallow with my throat this dry.

What happened? Did Finn burst out and injure someone? Did Aris relapse— no, both of those things would've caused an ambulance too, right? Has the killer been found? Someone from my household? I am praying it's not that.

Maybe interviews about the killer? No, the lights of the cars wouldn't be on, would they?

I don't know. With my heart pounding in my throat, I follow Thomas inside. His hand grips mine tightly. I don't pull away. I'm not planning on pulling away until I feel relief of whatever this is not being as bad as we think it is.

But when I see everyone at the kitchen table—Mom in tears, Finn's face of stone, Dad with an anxious expression, and Aris's head to the ground—I realize something is wrong. 

At least Minho is still on his date. This won't have to bother his awesome night.

...unless it has to do with him. But I can't think of anything he could've done to get the police on our roof.

"Hey," Thomas's voice comes out sharp. "What's going on?"

Everyone including the two officers look up at us. They motion for us to sit down. Mom wipes her tears away as we obey, yet it doesn't help; more and more wetness falls from her eyes, and soon she's sobbing in Dad's shoulder.

My heart that's still sunken in my stomach now grows bigger until it blocks my whole windpipe and causes a sick feeling inside of me.

"What happened?" I also ask, voice shaky.

"Minho—" Mom tries, but she gasps, and then begins sobbing again.

No.

He didn't die. He can't have. I refuse. It must be something else, right?

What God is next? Hephaestus? Because that one is a smith and Minho has nothing to do with that.

But there's still other ways people can die, Viviette. This doesn't mean he was killed.

But no one said he's dead. I don't have to worry.

Thomas squeezes my hand just when Finn opens his mouth to speak.

"He got arrested."

Oh.

Is that supposed to be a relief or not?

"Arrested?" Thomas repeats. "For real?"

"Well, taken to the office," one of the men says. "Arrested is a big word, but they're investigating. He might be arrested later on."

That doesn't make anything any better.

"Why?" Thomas asks, voice still sharp. It's like he doesn't trust the whole situation. But Thomas is always suspicious of everything and everyone, so it's nothing new.

"He's our main suspect."

"As in, he's the serial killer?" Some kind of scoff leaves Thomas's mouth. "Because then you're very wrong."

I hold tighter onto his hand, and hope he gets what I'm trying to tell him: don't start a scene.

He's good at that. Good at starting scenes.

"Yes, as in he's the serial killer. Or at least a murderer," the other man says.

"Why?"

"He was last seen with the victim."

And then my heart is no longer at the bottom of my stomach, but at the bottom of my feet, barely beating before it starts beating so fast it hurts.

"...who's the victim?" It's barely a whisper.

"Evie Megan."

Then my heart explodes, like a punch in the gut. Like chills running everywhere on my body. Like that feeling in your throat when you want to talk but can't because you know you'll burst out in tears.

I burst out in tears anyway.

Thomas's arms have wrapped around me immediately. I feel that they're there and I feel the comfort of it but it for once doesn't influence me. I cry and cry and cry, the memories of just a few hours ago replaying in my mind.

If I would've known what was about to happen to my beautiful, kind, awesome— to one of my greatest friends, I would've done anything to stop it.

Why didn't we accidentally spill tea on her so she was late and could avoid whatever got her killed? Why couldn't the curling iron have burned her so we had to go to the hospital and avoid whatever got her killed? Where was the obstacle that saves you from death?

I don't calm down at all. I can't calm down. I'm sobbing to the point where I'm gasping for air through my tears and I feel so empty that it now just feels like my heart got ripped out.  

"Minho didn't—" I try to say. "He— Minho— he wouldn't. He... he isn't—" I stammer, only to break again.

Finn puts a cup of tea and a glass of water down in front of me. I take the tea, but my hands shake so heavily that it spills onto my leg. I want to hiss at the pain of the heat, but all that leaves my mouth is a choked cry.

Why didn't we accidentally spill tea on her so she was late and could avoid whatever got her killed? repeats in my mind.

I try to go for the water. I manage to put the glass to my lips with Thomas's help. But my bottom lip is shaking as badly as my hands and I just can't manage to drink.

Thomas's hands begin moves on my shoulders in comforting motions. His mouth is next to my ear, so he can speak to me and to me only, "Deep breaths. You're going to suffocate."

I really do try my best to take a deep breath, but it's so shaky that I burst out purely at the fact that I can't get myself to breathe.

"Hey, hey." He lifts my chin up. Cups my wet cheeks. "Follow my example. In." He takes a gulp of air. I do as he says, repeating his breaths. "Hold," he says, and I also obey. "And out," he whispers, and again, I do the same thing.

After at least five minutes of that, I have calmed down a little bit.

A little bit.

"How..." but my voice is painful. Feels rough in my throat. Sounds hoarse.

Yet they understand. "We don't know that yet. We received a call from a bystander. Said he was holding her while she bled. As mentioned before, they're now investigating what really happened and if he is the cause of it."

She bled. So she must've been in pain.

I want to start sobbing again, but that will only make us repeat the whole cycle.

What if Thomas and I decided to stalk them by dressing up as strangers? Would that have changed anything? Because the thought of doing that crossed my mind once.

"I want to go to bed," I whisper to Thomas, sniffing. Then, out loud, I say, "I'm going to bed."

Finn watches me leave, his face more concerned than ever, but I don't reply to it.

I focus on Aris for a single second. His head is still down. I can't see what he's feeling.

Shame? Because maybe he is the killer? If he is, he better be ashamed. He better feel guilty. I'll never forgive him. I'll never forgive whoever the hell it was who killed Evie.

Because I know for sure it wasn't Mom, or Dad, or Finn, and especially not Minho. And it wasn't Thomas, or Indigo, or Dan. It was someone cruel.

Once arrived in my bedroom, I break down on my bed. Thomas sits beside me as I cry into my pillow. He rubs my back, he runs his hand through my hair, he makes sure I breathe now and then.

I haven't exactly calmed down by the time I take my phone out of my pocket, I'm just less shaky. I want to know if there are any updates. From anyone at all.

MINHO ❤️

WE KISSED. WE KISSED. WE KISSED.
SHE IS NOW IN THE BATHROOM DONT WORRY I AM NOT ON MY PHONE WHILE SHE'S NEXT TO ME.
I CANT STOP SMILING

With my heart crumbling, I read the other missed texts.

EEV ❤️

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
HE KISSED ME, VI
TRYING NOT TO SCREAM IN THE BATHROOM RN.
THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU

And then I start crying again.