Category: Creative Pieces

*read the first part of this story here*

The apartment is noticeably quiet after what transpired just a couple of hours ago in Micah & Rosie’s living room. No one is out in the living room, the kitchen, and both bedroom doors are closed.

Moments later, a bedroom door opens and a man in a t-shirt and sweatpants walks out; he is holding a pile of damp formalwear. He walks towards the bathroom/laundry room and tosses the clothes in the washer. After starting up the washer, he looks at himself in the mirror. He looks tired and his dreadlocks bun is now sagging after the exhausting night he had. 

He looks through the mirror when the door behind him is opened. It’s Rosie. She’s in her pajamas, which nowadays is just one of Micah’s old t-shirts to fit over her growing belly. She walks in with her hands on top of her head, holding her hair.

Rosie: Just here to get a hair tie.

Micah doesn’t budge. She just walks in and goes to the sink where her little tray of hair ties are, picks one up, and leaves without saying anything. Micah just stares at her.

Micah walks out of the room and into the kitchen area where he finds Rosie looking through the cabinets. She slams each and every one of them when she’s done looking through them.

Micah: Can you not slam the doors, Roe? It’s 3 in the morning and I don’t need the neighbors complaining.

Rosie: Oh, but the wild, reunion sex you and your ex were going to have if I didn’t walk in the room would’ve been okay for the neighbors to hear?

She grabs a mug from the dish rack and pours some chips in it for a snack. She walks past Micah and goes into the living room. He follows her.

Micah: We weren’t going to have sex, so stop saying that.

Rosie: *sarcastically* Man, I didn’t know that making out while one of your shirts being undone isn’t the lead way to sex.

Micah: *angrily* Yeah, not everyone is like you, Rosie.

Rosie looks at Micah; furious.

Rosie: What the fuck does that suppose to mean?

Micah: You’re no fucking saint. You’re getting on my case for even bringing Kalia back here, but you’re the one to go to Prescott after the countless times he treated you like shit and mistakenly get pregnant!

Rosie: Go fuck yourself, Micah!

Rosie walks towards her bedroom. Just when she tries to slam the door on Micah, he stops it with his hand.

Micah: I don’t why you’re all angry about this, Rosie. Why the hell would you care if I brought Kalia back here in the first place?

Rosie: Get out of my room.

Micah doesn’t leave. Rosie reaches out for a pillow and throws it at him.

Rosie: Get out!

Micah: No, Roe. I’m not. Not until you tell me what the fuck was wrong with you tonight?

Rosie gets up out of her bed and walks towards Micah, now face-to-face with him. 

Rosie: Because I was there when you got all fucked up from her, Micah. I was the one that had to deal with your drunk and high ass every other night when things got bad. I was one that had your back when you missed almost a month of school; I practically used my week’s paycheck photocopying all the work for your classes so you wouldn’t drop out! I was the one who watched you go through all that shit, and one night with her at some snobby gala got you ready to jump into bed with her like nothing happened. So excuse me for calling her a skank and for almost throwing my hands at her because I swear if I wasn’t pregnant, I would’ve beat that bitch up, and then probably beat you up for even bringing her back here. So excuse me for giving a fuck about you. All I get for doing that is just a slap in the face about my old ways. Some fucking best friend you are, Micah.

She turns around and starts going through her drawers for clothes, she takes a bag out of her closest and starts to pack things in it. 

Micah: I’m sorry, Roe, I didn’t mean what I said. Can we just talk?

Rosie ignores Micah and keeps throwing things in the bag. Micah calls her name out a couple of times; nothing. He finally walks over to her and stops her from doing what she’s doing. She pushes him away hard enough to knock him on the floor.

Micah: *angrily* Look, I don’t know what the hell your problem is, but I’m trying to say I’m sorry for what I said, but the way you acted tonight was no exception! Are you even thinking about the baby when you try to do stupid shit out of anger?

Rosie doesn’t answer, she just keeps packing, which angers Micah even more.

Micah: *furious* You know, this is the type of shit I hate about you, Rosie. You get mad at me for something that you have no part of, and then get angry when I throw that same energy back to you! You can’t keep acting like the world owes you an apology and you can’t keep running the fuck away from everything when things get difficult. If you can’t take it, then don’t give it out! *sighs* I’m fucking sorry, okay? What else do you want me to say? I’m a horrible person? Huh? Would that make you feel any better? Well, I’m a fucking horrible person then, Rosie!

As Micah gets up to leave Rosie’s room, Rosie gets up as well.

Rosie: Micah.

He stops in his tracks. Her voice makes it impossible for him to leave. He turns around to Rosie. Rosie reaches for something on top of her dresser. She takes it, throws it towards Micah, and reaches it for her bag.

Micah looks at the item in his hands; it’s Rosie’s copy of the key to the apartment. He looks back up to her.

Rosie: You’re not a horrible person. You’re a horrible fucking friend.

She walks past him towards the front door. Micah doesn’t move.

Half a day later:

A couple is sitting on a couch walking reality television while cuddling and eating snacks. The couple, Tanner and Daniella, are commenting on the show until the doorbell rings. Tanner gets up from the sofa and answers the door. It’s Micah, drenched in rainwater.

Tanner: Hey, man! What the hell happened to you? Don’t believe in umbrellas?

Tanner opens the door wide enough for Micah to walk in. He walks in looking around the living room/kitchen area.

Micah: Is Rosie here?

Daniella: No, it’s just us; why would she be here?

Micah: *nervously sighs* I’ve been trying to contact her all day but her phone’s been off. I’m getting worried.

Daniella: Maybe she went to Philly to her mentor or something?

Micah: She gave me the apartment key back.

Both Tanner and Daniella are shocked.

Tanner: What happened?

Micah: We got into this huge fight after the gala. I… I ran into Kalia at the gala and brought her back to the apartment.

Daniella: *angrily* How can you be so fucking stupid, Mic?!

Micah: I wasn’t thinking, okay Dani?!

Tanner: Look, yelling at each other isn’t gonna solve anything. *to Micah* Why’d you bring Kalia to your apartment? You guys were gonna.. *claps hands together* y’ know?

Daniella holds her head in frustration.

Micah: No, I wasn’t gonna have sex with her, things just started to happened and I don’t know, everything was coming back and she was unbuttoning my shirt and she saw the matching tattoo I got with Roe and I instantly snapped out of it. Then Roe came out of her room and saw Kalia and *facepalms* Rosie was two seconds away from swinging at her, man. Things were getting ugly.

Daniella: You should’ve let Rosie beat that bitch up!

Tanner: Dani…

Daniella: *mockingly* Tanner.

Micah: I didn’t understand why Roe acted the way she did. She could’ve gotten herself hurt, or got our baby hurt and-

Daniella: *confused* Our baby?

Micah: *gathers thoughts* H-Her baby, Dani, sheesh. But we got into a huge fight and said some really horrible things to her about her past and she just packed her things and left. I fucked up and I’m just trying to get a hold of her to talk things out. She’s my friend.

Daniella: *sighs* Here we go again…

Micah: What?

Daniella: Micah, I love you like a brother, but you’re so fucking delusional and stubborn that you still can’t admit to yourself that you’re in love with this girl.

Micah: I care about her, Dani! It doesn’t mean I’m in love with her!

Daniella: Bullshit! It’s one thing to let Rosie move in with you to help her out while she gets things together and carries another guy’s baby, but you just said that you were afraid that Rosie was gonna hurt “our” baby. It still bothers you that she got herself pregnant with some asshole and not you, and every chance you get, you throw it in her face. You’re not mad at her, you’re mad at yourself.

Micah: I don’t remember asking for your opinion, Dani.

Daniella: I didn’t give you my opinion, Micah, I gave you the fucking truth.

Tanner: Okay, okay! That’s enough! *to Daniella* babe, take it down a couple of notches. *to Micah* Micah, you have to be honest with yourself, man. You didn’t have sex with Kalia because you thought about Rosie and you couldn’t go through with it.

Micah: Yeah, she would’ve been pissed that I did. I gave her a hard time when I first broke up with Kalia, she was just looking out for me.

Tanner: Nah man, you didn’t do it because you love Rosie. Any friend would have done what you’re doing for Rosie, but taking another man’s kid in as your own says more than that.

Micah takes a deep breath. He rubs his tired eyes and looks at two of his best friends in front of him. 

Micah: I’m fucking in love with Rosie Delgado, and I fucked everything up.

He sits on a chair in the room with regret in his face. Tanner paces back and forth while Daniella is still sitting on the couch, facing the two men in the room. 

Micah: Maybe I brought Kalia back to the apartment because I just thought maybe I’d stop thinking about my feelings towards Rosie. Rosie isn’t like other girls. She’s not an easy person that allows anyone in and if she has in the past, it’s because all she knows is one type of man, and that’s a man that doesn’t give a shit about her and lives off of his daddy’s money. I didn’t let her live with me and I didn’t offer to be in this baby’s life for some credit hoping one day she’ll love me back. I did it because I fucking love her and she deserves all the fucking love in the world. But my dumbass ruined that last night when I threw her weakness back in her face. Because I was a fucking coward. Because I can’t tell her that I love her more than anyone else I’ve been within my life.

Tanner and Daniella look at each other and then back at Micah when his phone starts ringing. Micah immediately picks it up, hoping it is Rosie.

Micah: Hello?… Speaking… Yeah, I’m Micah Kamalani… *long pause, eyes widen* What? When? How?… Oh my- ye-yeah, I’m on my way… Thank you.

Micah hangs up the phone and looks at the two people in front of him who are looking just as worried as him. Micah looks like he was just seen a ghost.

Micah: … Rosie’s in the hospital… she-she tried to kill herself.

— The End —

A woman with curly hair and glasses, Jennifer, walks into her bedroom and looks at the bookshelf for something. She scans the many books until she comes across the book she’s looking for; her high-school yearbook. She takes it off the shelf and looks at it before opening it. She opens it and skims through it, remembering all the people she once used to see every day. She then stops at a page where her and her three best friend Milo, Nicki, and Danny are posing for a picture at prom. She smiles.

A man with tied up dreadlocks and glasses on, Milo, walks into the room and sees his wife sitting on the bed, flipping through the book.

Milo: *playfully* Getting ready to claw the eyes of your enemies?

Jennifer deadpans; “haha”.

Jennifer: I’m just looking through our yearbook, preparing myself of the people that used to go to high-school with us before our reunion this weekend.

Milo: Are you nervous?

Jennifer: *flips through pages* A little. I mean, it’s been 10 years already.

Milo: So? You’re still hot as ever.

Jennifer: *raises eyebrow* Oh? You thought I was hot when we were in high-school? Didn’t you have a girlfriend ten years ago that wasn’t me?

Milo: *cheeky* I mean, ten years later I’m married to you, right?

Jennifer closes the yearbook and rolls her eyes. She gets up from the bed and puts the yearbook back on the shelf. Milo gets ready for bed.

Milo: Seriously though, there’s no reason to be nervous.

Jennifer gets into bed next to Milo.

Jennifer: I don’t know, we left high-school in a weird way. You were dating Diana, I was dating Craig… she was my enemy, he was yours…

Milo: I mean, we were both young and dumb… and probably desperate.

Jennifer nudges Milo.

Milo: The past is the past, babe. You don’t know where these people are now.

Jennifer: *soft* Besides Craig, who’s in jail now…

Silence. Milo sighs to break it.

Milo: What I’m saying is that we aren’t there to compare each other and see how successful we’ve become in the last ten years. We’re honestly there to just see old friends and have a good time, babe.

Jennifer: I know. You’re right.

Jennifer fluffs up her pillow and begins to get comfortable. Milo stares at her.

Milo: What else are you worried about?

Jennifer: *playing dumb* Whatcha mean?

Milo: Pep…

Jennifer shoots back up to face Milo.

Jennifer: You know everyone is going to ask about Gwen.

Milo: *confused* What?

Jennifer: People are going to ask about Gwen, Mi. You know it.

Milo: Pep, Gwen died in 2008. We were just sophomores when that happened, I doubt people remember Gwen being my girlfriend.

Jennifer: You got the smartest girl in our grade, who also happened to have cancer, pregnant at 15. I doubt people forgot about that.

Milo: Pep, you were also my best friend, I think people who don’t even matter will remember us as inseparable as teenagers.

Jennifer: Not unless you have some secret crazy admirer who’s using the reunion as some way to take you home at the end of the night…

Milo: *laughs* You have to stop watching Lifetime movies in between Micah’s naps, babe.

Jennifer sighs and turns over to go to sleep. Milo tries to comfort Jennifer.

Milo: I’m kidding, but seriously – you don’t have to be worried. I won’t allow you to have a bad time there, Pep. We’ll dance the night away, have a couple of drinks here and there, and introduce my wife, Jennifer, to everyone who comes up to me.

Jennifer: *turns around* Really?

Milo: Of course. If anything, I’ll be the luckiest guy at this reunion because I get to call you my wife.

Jennifer: *soft* Aww, Milo… *playfully pinches Milo’s cheeks*  You have to stop watching Hallmark movie in between grading papers, babe.

Milo tackles Jennifer in the bed and tickles her; she’s heard laughing loud and telling Milo to stop. He laughs as he finally leaves her alone. Jennifer is straightening out her frizzy, curly hair.

Jennifer: Why do you love making my hair more of a frizzy mess than it already is?

Milo: Because it’s been my thing since we were kids. Remember that time I messed up your hair when you were talking to that guy you liked in elementary school?

Jennifer: Oh, you mean when I practically chased you all the way home and your mom wouldn’t let me in the house because you started crying for your life?

Milo: *exaggerates* You were a scary ass kid, Pep!

Jennifer: Yet you loved to test me!

Milo: What can I say? I loved to live on the wild side.

Jennifer: The only wild side you used to live when we were kids was you going home a minute after your curfew.

Milo: *deadpans* Someone had to be the responsible one between us.

Jennifer: That surely changed when we were teenagers.

Milo look at Jennifer with a semi-serious look on his face.

Jennifer: *backtracks* I mean, you were still responsible taking care of Milo Jr.

Milo: *smiles* Thank you.

They both look up at the ceiling in silence. 

Milo: Remember our graduation day? How my mom was holding Milo in the audience and he just wailed out a cry when my name got called?

Jennifer: Remember it? I lived it. It was the loudest baby roar in the auditorium.

Milo: *laughs* He was so small. God. Where does the time go?

Jennifer: To believe that Milo is only two grades away from being in high-school scares me. Like, for him to go through all the crazy shit we went through. Hopefully his experience isn’t so wild.

Milo: Nah, he’s a good kid. If anything, he got that quality from Gwen.

Jennifer: Hey, you’re a good person too.

Milo stays silent. He’s deep in thought and Jennifer turns to face him in his deep thought.

Milo: I don’t know how I graduated high-school while taking care of a baby all at the same time.

Jennifer: You had people who loved and cared about you.

Milo: Yeah, but, it wasn’t the easiest thing in the world. I’m thankful for having a roof over my head but, it was just hard living in the same house as the man who didn’t even acknowledge me or hi grandson.

Jennifer: *concerned* He was mean to Milo?

Milo: I mean, he would tell him that he was too busy to hang out or play with him. Then my mother would come in and try to make things better by offering to spend time with him instead.

Jennifer is empathetic to Milo. She doesn’t break her attention away from Milo while he speaks.

Milo: I’m just glad I’m where I am at now. Shit’s still not easy, but it’s easier than it was.

Jennifer: *smiles* And you’re an amazing father as well.

Milo looks at Jennifer and smiles. He kisses her gently on the forehead.

Milo: *rehearses* “Hey, yeah remember me? Milo Kamalani? Beanie, geeky music kid? Ahh, so you remember Jennifer, my best friend. Yeah, she really is hot, right? Oh, you wanna see what’s up with her? I heard she’s married, bro. Yeah, sorry – she has two kids and still look that good. How do I know this? She’s married to me.”

Jennifer laughs and kisses Milo.

Jennifer: *rehearses* “Oh, hey girl! Yeah I was the girl that accidently set your ponytail on fire in chemistry class… Oh, really? You saw Milo and you think he grew up to be good looking? You know that you once called him gay for being a creative guy, right? Well I gotta break it to you, hun, Milo is actually my husband and girl, does he get creative in the bed-“

Jennifer stops once her and Milo see their bedroom door open and 12-year-old, Milo Jr., stand there in his pajamas.

Milo Jr: … Get a room… or a different house.

Milo Jr. walks out of the bedroom and shouts out that Micah is crying, which makes Micah cry even more. Milo gets up out of the bed first to tend Micah; Jennifer sits in the bed, smiling, happy this is where she is ten years later.

— The End —

A man in his mid-40’s, scruffy beard and tousled dirty blonde hair, Weston, is sitting at a desk in his studio apartment in the city. He’s doing work on the laptop with a glass of red wine next to his paperwork. He takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes; its tasks like this that explain his poor eyesight and need for glasses and the occasional contact lenses. His trance breaks when he hears the doorbell ring. 

He’s confused as he looks at the door. He wasn’t expecting anymore, not that he ever gets company at this time of night anyway. He gets up from his chair and checks the door; possibly it’s his daughter, Grace? Did something happen to her?

Without even looking through the peephole, he opens the door and surprised at who is standing there. A woman with frizzy curly ginger red hair, Mollie, is standing there. The bottom of her jeans is wet from the rain.

Weston: H-Hey Mollie.

He immediately lets Mollie in. She enters the apartment and looks around while Weston closes the door behind her.

Mollie: Grace was right, your apartment is more of a hotel room.

She looks at Weston and smiles. He laughs at her statement.

Weston: *playfully* Oh is that so? Grace talks about me behind my back?

Mollie: She’s 19, she talks about everyone, Weston.

They both laugh. Conversations about Grace aren’t as awkward anymore after their reunion dinner a couple of months back.

Weston: *offering with his hands out* Would you like me to take your coat and umbrella?

Mollie takes off her coat and hands both the coat and umbrella to Weston. He gets a hanger from the closet to hang up the coat to dry while Mollie walks around the living room area and spots a couple of photos on the wall.

Mollie: I didn’t take you to be a “photos on the wall” type of man.

He walks over to Mollie and faces the wall of pictures as well.

Weston: It makes the place homier, y’ know?

Mollie thinks about the fact she’s been back in New York for almost a decade yet had no pictures on her wall in her two-bedroom apartment. Weston has been here for less than a year and his place looks like it’s actually lived in.

Mollie analyzes the wall until she sees a photo that looks familiar; it’s a photo of him holding a dinosaur and standing next to his twin brother, Mason. 

Mollie: Wow, I remember this photo. *points up to it* You had it in your mom’s place back when we were teenagers.

Weston looks up at the picture.

Weston: Yeah, I asked if it was okay for me to take it, I-

He turns his head at Mollie, shocked.

Weston: You remembered that?

Mollie looks back up to Weston to answer his question.

Mollie: Of course I do. It was the first time you told me about your dad. It was also the first time I told you about my dad, and the earrings and all of that… 

Weston is surprised at Mollie’s memory.

Weston: Time flies, huh?

Mollie smiles and looks back at the wall of pictures. She analyzes all of the pictures of Grace when she was a child. Weston notices.

Weston: Grace freakishly had your mannerisms as a child.

Mollie: *shocked* Really?

Weston: Oh yeah. She got herself in sticky situations with her friends and disobeying teachers and stuff. I had her principal on speed dial.

Mollie: *laughs* Come on, that’s normal for a kid to go through.

Weston: She was once bored at my office back in Virginia. She thought she wanted to be ‘just like Daddy’ and play with my partner’s gun. She shot at a potted plant and scared half of the bureau to death.

Mollie laughs but covers her mouth instantly. Weston smiles.

Weston: At least no one was hurt, and we definitely laugh about it every now and then.

Mollie smiles and looks back at the wall again. She notices a picture of herself wearing a sparkly dance costume with Baby Grace in her arms. Mollie is taken back at the picture.

Mollie: You kept this picture?

Weston looks at the picture Mollie is talking about. He seems flustered and nervous.

Weston: Y-Yeah, I just… really love this picture of you two.

Mollie: I remember putting it in the box of things for Mollie’s 18th birthday though.

Weston is even more surprised that Mollie remembers these little things about their past. He questions how much she thinks about these things in a day.

Weston: She gave it to me before she left for college. She figured she didn’t need it, considering she was living with you while she’s here.

Mollie: *distracted* I remember that day. I had just finished the North American leg of the “New World” production. You brought Grace to the last show. You came backstage with her in one hand, and flowers in the other. Grace looked so amazed by her surroundings… huge smile on her face, looking curious.

Weston looks at Mollie while she recalls the memory. He’s intrigued about how she remembers the minor details.

Weston: She was in her glory that day.

Mollie looks at Weston, and they both smile at each other. They both walk away from the wall; Weston hands over to the kitchen while Mollie sits on the sofa in the living room. Without asking, Weston walks over to Mollie with a cup of coffee: creamer and 3 sugars. Mollie is surprised he remembers how she liked her coffee.

Weston: So, what brings you over to this side of town in the pouring rain at this time of night?

Mollie nervously laughs and takes a deep breath. 

Mollie: Seems like a habit of mine, huh?

Weston laughs; he knows she’s talking about the night they knew.

Weston: Yeah, just a bit. But it was fun that night.

Mollie: Oh really?

Weston: Yeah. I don’t think about what happened afterwards. I just think about us that night.

Mollie blushes a little, then realizes he’s probably picking it up and noticing it. Gosh, she feels like a teenager again.

Mollie: That’s… sweet of you to think of that night that way, Weston.

Weston: What can I say? We got laid that night.

Mollie laughs with her whole body. Weston is just as honest and funny as he was when they were kids. Weston smiles at Mollie. Mollie laughs just as loud and hearty as she did when they were kids. 

Mollie: That’s one way to think of it. *laughs* I just… wanted to check on you. Grace has been noticing that you’ve been… sad lately. I just wanted to see if everything’s okay.

Weston is puzzled. 

Weston: I appreciate you checking up on me, Mol, but it isn’t your problem to worry about. I’m fine.

Ouch. Mollie nervously traces the rim of the coffee mug with her finger.

Weston: *sighs* This case, wrapping it up has been a pain. This job gets tougher as the years pass.

Mollie: Why don’t you considering quitting?

Weston: It hasn’t been twenty years yet. I’ll forfeit my pension if I don’t work for another 5 years. I can’t do that to Grace.

Grace. Mollie is still surprised that even though their daughter is all grown up and in college, Weston still makes his moves according to Grace. He’ll do whatever it takes to provide for his daughter.

Mollie: But, if it’s taking a toll on you, why not reconsider?

Weston: I just can’t do that to her, Mol. I didn’t do it all these years just so I could just quit when I got tired. It’s hard, but I’m okay. I do it for her.

Mollie suddenly looks sullen. She seems regretful that she couldn’t do the same for Grace. Weston takes notice of it.

Weston: You’re here now, Mol. That’s all that matters.

Mollie: How do you manage to do that all the time?

Weston: Do what?

Mollie: Know what I’m thinking, how I’m feeling. You just always know, even after all these years.

Weston: You don’t lose that ability for the people you care deeply about. We’ve known each other for over 20 years.

Mollie: *sullen* I left for 17 of them though.

Weston turns his body and faces Mollie.

Weston: It doesn’t matter. We’ve known each other since we were 17.

Mollie stares at Weston’s face and studies it; he’s definitely aged since the last time they were ever this close, but his face still looks the same: his light freckles on his cheeks, the laugh lines that have always been there…

Mollie: Yeah…

Weston: Which brings me to my next point; you didn’t come here to check up on me.

Mollie: And what’s makes you think that?

Weston: It’s 11 at night, you live on the other side of the city, and a simple phone call would’ve been a better alternative. *raises an eyebrow* What’s going on, Mol?

They both stared at each other intently, not making a move, not saying anything. Just a moment to admire the closeness they are in now. 

Mollie: *nervously* I hate that you know me so fucking well.

Weston: We wouldn’t have worked if I didn’t.

Weston stops Mollie before she says something.

Weston: And no, our separation doesn’t mean we didn’t work, so don’t even think that.

Mollie: *shocked* You amaze me, Weston Ashmore.

Weston laughs and takes a sip of his coffee on the coffee table. When he puts it back down, he’s waiting for Mollie to speak. She takes a deep breath.

Mollie: Remember that night in your mom’s place? We sat on the sofa, same positions we’re sitting in now, you told me I didn’t need to pretend with you?

Weston: *recalls* I remember telling you that a lot at the beginning of our relationship, so yeah.

Mollie: Well, that was the first time you told me that. And ever since I promised myself to always be honest with you, despite it sometimes hurting you in the process.

Mollie takes a deep breath; her voice is shaky.

Weston: What’s going on, Mol? You know you can tell me anything.

Mollie studies Weston’s face, gathering every moment and every honest feeling that she needs to pour out of herself.

Mollie: I have a pretty good understanding of what your life was like during our time apart. Grace pretty much told me everything. You went to work, took care of Grace, pretty much lived your life as a parent. But, I never told you what life was like for me. Maybe you don’t care, but I feel the need to let you know that it wasn’t all that glamorous.

Weston’s face becomes attentive. He doesn’t budge.

Mollie: The first few months I pretty much lived my life on survival mode. I drank, I partied, I even experimented with drugs. It was just what the tour was like, on top of depression, of course. I went on a few dates, had a couple one night stands but nothing ever came from them. No matter how many people were around me, that claimed they loved me and supported me, I always felt alone. For the next decade, all I thought about was how you were doing and if Grace was happy living her life. Sure, I should’ve reached out and checked upon you, but, I was a coward. I let you believe all these years I didn’t care about you anymore, that I stopped loving you.

Mollie nervously stops talking and looks at Weston, who is officially in deep thought.

Mollie: Weston…

She reaches out for his hand and he snaps out of the thought; he’s now looking at Mollie.

Mollie: *sighs* When you walked into my classroom for Grace’s parent-teacher conference, I was feeling… everything. I was scared that you would take her out of my class after finding out I was her teacher, but it sort of brought me back to when I first met you… when you first came into our class in high-school… it felt like we came full-circle.

Mollie starts to get nervous and gets off from the couch to walk around the living room area. Weston’s eyes follow her body.

Weston: Mol?

Mollie: *turns around* Yeah?

Weston: What are you trying to say?

Mollie just stands there. She’s immediately taken back to the night when they had the biggest fight in their lives. Mollie is yelling at Weston, who is sitting on the sofa with his hands on his head in frustration. Weston gets up from the sofa and walks towards Mollie.

In the present day, Weston gets up from the sofa and walks towards Mollie.

Weston: *softly* Hey.

Mollie snaps out of the thought and looks up at Weston. She instantly calms down. 

Weston: I’m right here. You can tell me.

Mollie continues to look at Weston, and vice versa. The stare does not break.

Mollie: It’s always been you, Weston.

Weston: *confused* Huh?

Mollie: Wes, I’m halfway in my 40’s and I’m tired of waking up by myself in the mornings. I’m tired of wasting my days, regretting not being where I should be, where we should be. *recalls* Alan, the guy I dated for a while after our separation, asked me to marry him. I told him I couldn’t. Despite being in a serious relationship, I was never in love with him like that. You simply just can’t fall in love the way you once did for a second time with a second person.

Mollie looks down at the floor. Weston lifts her chin up with his fingers to look back up at him.

Weston: Say it.

Mollie: I, *inhales* Weston…

Weston: I’m not going anywhere.

Mollie: I- I never stopped loving you, Weston. I’m still so fucking in love with you and I-

Weston takes both of his hands and cups Mollie’s face and slams his lips against hers. It’s the first kiss they’ve shared in 19 years. It’s passionate, it’s yearning, it’s familiar and like nothing has changed. 

The kiss ends and they look at each other. 

Weston: What took you so long, Mol?

Mollie: *confused* Huh?

Weston: I don’t know if it was obvious or not, but I’ve just been waiting for you to come around all this time.

Mollie: You… knew?

Weston: *laughs* I didn’t know, but I always knew that I never stopped loving you and I hoped one day, you felt the same.

Mollie smiles up at Weston. He reciprocates it.

Mollie: *nervously* I- uh, wow, uhm…

Weston: *playfully* There’s no turning back now, Mol.

He places his hand on her cheek and she practically melts in his hand.

Weston: We have 19 years to catch up on.

He kisses her and she kisses him back harder. Time stops practically, and the only two living things are them at that moment. They explore each other, learning their bodies, their spots, the things that make them tick; everything they’ve missed out these last two decades. 

The rain hits harder on the glass of the window.

It’s a beautiful, sunny Spring day at the Kamalani Residence; the sun is shining, there’s a cool breeze coming through the window, and everyone is outside of their houses for the first time since the cold winter. A 28-year-old man, Milo, comes out of his bedroom in nothing but his boxers. His dreadlocks are tied back into a bun and his glasses are on because, well,  fuck contacts for the day.

Milo: No kids today, no wife today, just me, myself and I.

Milo walks into the kitchen and grabs all the snacks he possibly can in two hands. Once he leaves the kitchen area to go into the living room, the front door is being banged on.

Milo: And there goes my afternoon.

He puts the snacks back on the kitchen counter and runs to his bedroom to grab a pair of pants. The door is still being banged on continuously, and Milo comes out of the room, hopping into his sweatpants, yelling, “Be right there!”

Once he has his pants on, he opens the door to see that his sister-in-law, 24-year-old with curly brown hair, Maryette is standing there, in a panic.

Milo: Moose, hey – are you okay?

Moose is the nickname Maryette got when she played soccer as a kid. With her dark brown hair and strength, she was deemed as “Moose.” It’s been a nickname almost everyone still calls her.

Maryette welcomes herself into the house and begins to look around the living room and kitchen.  

Maryette: Where’s my sister?

Milo: She went to your mom’s place with the boys; are you sure you’re okay?

Maryette is pacing back and forth in the living room, whispering “fuck” repeatedly in a panic. Milo has no idea what’s happening.

Milo: Moose… hey, Moose…

Maryette: *to herself* Fuck, fuck, fuck…

Milo: *shouts* Maryette!

She stops pacing in the living room and looks at Milo in a shock. He grabs his hoodie from the bar stool in the kitchen and puts it on.

Milo: If you need to see Jennifer, she’s at your mom’s place.

Maryette: Are you insane?!

Milo raises his eyebrows in confusion.

Milo: I’m… sorry?

Maryette takes a deep breath in and sits on the sofa.

Maryette: I can’t go home until I know.

Milo: Until you know what?

Maryette gets up from the sofa and holds her head in distress.

Maryette: My mother is going to kill me if this shit happens!

Milo: *annoyed* Moose, I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s going on.

Maryette walks towards her purse and pulls out the item wrapped in a plastic bag. She throws it at Milo, and he catches it. 

Maryette: Do you know when she’s coming home?

Milo unravels what’s in the bag: it’s a pregnancy test. He looks back up at Maryette.

Milo: She’s- she’s not going to be home until later tonight, I- are you pregnant?

Maryette: *lifts her arms up* That’s what I need to find out, Sherlock.

Milo gives the bag and item back to Maryette; he’s visibly uncomfortable with the situation.

Milo: Listen, Moose, I think this is something that you should wait for Pep to come home and… uh, help you… with?

Maryette: That could be hours from now! I have to do this now, but I’m just too fucking scared to do so!

Milo: Okay, okay, just- calm down. Panicking isn’t going to make the situation any easier.

Maryette begins to take deep breaths continuously.

Maryette: *inhales* Oh god I’m gonna be sick.

Milo: *reassuring* It’s not the end of the world, Moose, just calm down. Just breathe.

Milo coaches Maryette in some breathing exercises, which ultimately helps Maryette calm down.

Milo: Now, let’s rewind for a bit; why aren’t you at Dennis’s place doing this with him?

Maryette: Matt lives with him? Duh?

Milo: And?

Maryette: And if I just show up with a damn pregnancy test in my hand and pee on it, he’s gonna tell his mom, who happens to be my Aunt Gabby, who happens to be my mom’s sister. I know Pep won’t tell anyone about this.

Milo crosses his arms on his chest; he’s a little concerned. 

Milo: Listen, I know I’m not the first person you’d want to experience this moment with, but I’m here if you need some support… of course, from the outside in the living room…

Maryette walks back to the coach still scared and worried. Milo sits in the lounge chair next to her. 

Milo: If anything, I know how to handle the situation in a calm matter.

Maryette raises an eyebrow.

Maryette: Pep said you started crying happy tears and ran around the house like a kid in a candy store.

Milo: *flustered* I mean, sure, but that’s not my point, Moose. I’m just trying to say I’ve been through this twice, so if you panic, I won’t.

Maryette takes in a deep breath and looks at the bag in her hand.

Milo: I know I’m not Pep, but if it makes you feel better, you’ve always been like family to me. In some sort of twisted way, you were always like a little sister to me.

Maryette: … That’s sorta weird considering you’re married to my sister.

Milo awkwardly gets off of the sofa and points to the bathroom.

Milo: Just take the test, Moose.

Maryette sighs and walks towards the bathroom door. Milo remembers the night he and Jennifer found out about the pregnancy of their second son, Micah. Maryette’s right; Milo did dance around happily in the apartment, and he’s glad that Jennifer didn’t mention the part to Maryette on how he jumped up on the sofa, and somewhat mistakenly went into a split. He never thought his third time experiencing this would be with his sister-in-law without her boyfriend present. While he waits for Maryette to come out of the bathroom, he goes into the cabinet where the liquor is and pours himself a shot; he needs it.

After taking the shot, Maryette walks out of the bathroom slowly with the test in her hand. She doesn’t say anything.

Milo: So? What happened?

Maryette: It’s- it’s positive.

Milo takes in a deep breath and looks at Maryette.

Milo: You know what you have to do next, kid. Here…

Milo takes a paper towel in his hands and Maryette puts the test on it to wrap it up. They both look at the front door when they hear keys jingling in the lock. They both panic, and Milo takes the test and throws it towards his bedroom just to get it out of sight.

Jennifer and the boys enter the apartment. Milo Jr. mindlessly walks past both his father and Maryette into his room, while Jennifer stands there with Micah in her arms.

Jennifer: Hey, babe… *looks at her sister* What are you doing here, Moose?

Maryette: *nervously* I thought you were here, but Milo said you were at Mom’s place.

Milo: I thought you were staying for dinner there, Pep.

Jennifer walks into Micah’s room to set him down in the crib.

Jennifer: The baby got sick, so I wanted to get him home to rest.

She closes Micah’s bedroom door and walks into the kitchen to wash her hands. Milo and Maryette are mindlessly walking around the apartment. Jennifer notices.

Jennifer: Are you guys okay? You’re acting really weird.

Maryette: *coughs* I was just going to leave and head to Dennis’s place. It was nice seeing you guys!

While Jennifer bends down to grab the towel she dropped on the kitchen floor, Maryette mouthes “Get the test” towards Milo.

Jennifer: Alright Moose, tell him we said hi.

She gets back up and stares at Maryette, who is still standing near the front door. After an awkward silence, she opens the door and walks out of the house. 

Jennifer: *sighs* I’m just going to hop into the shower before Micah wakes up from his nap, I think he has a little tummyache.

Milo: It’s alright, take your time, babe.

Jennifer walks towards the bedroom and Milo slowly realizes that she is, he runs towards the bedroom floor, calling out Jennifer’s name, and opens the door to see her standing there with something in her hand.

Jennifer: Care to explain why I found a pregnancy test on the floor of our bedroom, Milo?

Milo: *nervously laughs* Pep, you’re gonna laugh when you hear this…

Jennifer doesn’t budge and Milo awkwardly laughs. Milo has a lot of explaining to do…

— The End —

In an apartment with mismatched furniture, a girl with auburn wavy hair, Reagan, sits on the living room sofa, scrolling through the channels on the TV. Another girl with curly auburn hair identical to Reagan, Dylan, walks back and forth the apartment getting ready, looking distressed and nervous. Reagan notices Dylan’s behavior and rolls her eyes.

Reagan: Why are you running around like you’re lost or something, Dyl? It’s just a date.

Dylan walks to the wall mirror near the front door, juggling outfit opinions.

Dylan: For your information, this is Nate and I’s first year anniversary. I have to look extra good for this date.

Reagan: Nate is only gonna care about your outfit if you’re gonna let him take it off at the end of the night.

Dylan: *turns around towards Reagan* Can you not think about sex for one minute, Reagan?

Reagan rolls her eyes and gets up from the sofa. She walks over to Dylan and takes the two hangers of dresses from her. She starts modeling them on herself.

Reagan: Green always looks good on us; wear this one.

Dylan takes the dress and runs back into her bedroom. Reagan heads over to the kitchen to grab something to eat.

Dylan: *shouts from other room* When was the last time you got all dressed up and went out on a date?

Reagan rolls her eyes and grabs some chips from the pantry.

Reagan: Dyl, don’t even start.

Dylan walks out from the bedroom in her green sparkly dress, putting on her earrings while talking to Reagan.

Dylan: I’m just saying,  don’t think you’ve been on a date since Carter left-

Reagan: *annoyed* Can you not?

Dylan: Hey, you know it’s true. It’s like you completely shut out guys after what that scumbag did.

Reagan: Guys suck, that’s why. I’m better off dating a girl since all guys are dicks.

Dylan: My Natie isn’t.

Reagan puts a finger in her mouth and pretends to gag. Dylan rolls her eyes and sits on the sofa to do her makeup.

Dylan: Why don’t I ask Nate to hook you up with one of his friends?

Reagan: Ew, I’m not into the whole “agony musician” type. No thank you.

Dylan: First of all, ouch. Second of all, you gotta get out of the house sooner or later.

Reagan opens her mouth until Dylan intervenes.

Dylan: And no, getting out of the house to go to Mom and Dad’s place to hang out doesn’t count.

Reagan: *sighs* Look, I’m just not ready to go and put myself out there. Nothing good comes out of putting yourself out there.

Dylan: Do you hear yourself? You are Reagan Kamalani. You were the “it” girl in high-school. All the boys drooled over you. You were that bitch. You let one guy come into your life and fuck your whole life up? Screw Carter. He’s out there living his best life and you’re stuck in the house just eating your life away.

Reagan takes her hand out of the potato chip bag and folds her arms across her chest. 

Reagan: It’s not that easy to just hop back into things, Dyl. I’m not the same girl I was when I started dating Carter.

Dylan: You’re right, you’re not. You’re even better than before.

Dylan gets up from the sofa and grabs Reagan by the arm. She drags her sister towards the wall mirror once again and places her in front of it.

Dylan: You’re a 26-year-old goddess. You’re smart, you’re funny, you’re the life of the party, and anybody will love you. Don’t let Carter drag those beautiful qualities down.

Reagan takes a good look at herself in the mirror. She sees the unkempt hair that’s been thrown into a bun one too many times. She sees the overworn hoodie and sweatpants that she’s been living in for God knows how long. She sees the person she’s become, and she doesn’t like it. It’s foreign, and it’s something she never saw herself being. 

Reagan takes a deep breath in and talks to Dylan through the mirror.

Reagan: Okay, I’ll try to meet some new people or something.

Dylan squeals in excitement and runs to get her phone.

Dylan: I’m so glad that you’re willing to this because I already started to help you out!

Reagan: Wait, what?!

Dylan sits back on the sofa and Reagan follows her. They both are looking at Dylan’s phone.

Dylan: I decided that the least invasive way of dating is to do it online! I made you a dating profile on Dater!

Reagan: What?!

Reagan takes Dylan’s phone and looks at the dating profile:

Reagan, 26 – NYC, Aspiring comedian, looking for someone to laugh at my jokes and I’ll laugh at yours too.

Dylan: You like it?

Reagan: Dyl, this bio friggin’ reaks of desperation. How the hell did you get with Nate with these cheesy lines?

Dylan: Okay, ouch. I mean, you could always tweak it yourself if you’re really serious about this. But! I uploaded some of your pictures and look at these matches!

Reagan clicks the “possible matches” link and begins to browse the possibilities.

Reagan: *continuously swipes left* No, no, no, ew, no, no… *looks at the phone closely* This guy has a whole wedding ring on his finger! *swipes left* No, no, no…

Dylan: Ooo, he’s cute, Reagan!

Reagan looks at Dylan.

Reagan: Girl, that is Emerson, our goddamn nephew! What the hell is he doing on a damn dating website?!

Dylan: *laughs uncontrollably* Oh we’re so telling Milo!

Reagan keeps swiping left, losing hope in this online dating until she comes across someone:

Tristan, 27 – NYC, writer, looking for a lady I could buy flowers for and write poetry about… if she’s into that type of thing. Possibly coffee is more efficient than flowers in this city.

Reagan laughs to herself. Dylan notices it.

Dylan: You found someone?

Reagan: *sighs* Nah, not really…

Before she can swipe left, Dylan takes her phone out of her sister’s hands and runs away.

Reagan: *yells* Dylan, don’t you dare!

Dylan: What? I saw how you were looking at this guy on the phone!

Reagan chases Dylan around the house for the phone.

Reagan: Dylan!

But it’s too late; Dylan already swiped right and bam! It was a match!

Dylan: It’s a match! He swiped right for you too!

Reagan, who isn’t listening, tries to wrestle the phone out of her sister’s hands; Dylan puts up a good fight.

Reagan: Why in the world would you do such a stupid thing like that–

Dylan: Shut up, Reagan; you’ll be thanking me on your wedding day!

They continue to wrestle for the phone until the front door is open. A guy with curly blonde hair, Nathan, is standing at the door with flowers in his hand, staring at the two twin sisters. They stop fighting once they realize he’s standing there.

Nathan: Maybe you should’ve have given me the key to your apartment, babe.

The girls stand up and straighten themselves out. They both look at the flowers in Nathan’s hands.

Reagan: *whispers* Should’ve got you a coffee instead.

Dylan rolls her eyes at Reagan. Reagan goes back into her bedroom and Dylan takes back her phone. She starts typing something on her phone.

Nathan: Did I walk in on you two fighting or something?

Dylan: It’s alright, Nate. *she hits the send button to the message she wrote to Tristan in Reagan’s dating profile. She then shows the screen to Nathan* I always get the last laugh though.

Nathan looks at the screen and his eyes widen.

Nathan: *concerned* Who the hell is Tristan?

Dylan: Reagan’s soon-to-be man.

— The End —

*You can read the first part of this scene here.*

Mollie, with her hair messily in a bun and her dress colored with Weston’s blood, is seen walking back and forth in the waiting room, waiting to hear anything from Weston’s doctor. Weston’s mother and twin brother arrived at the hospital 15 minutes after they did in the ambulance, and both of them has said nothing to her about Weston. 

As Mollie continues pacing in the waiting room, she spots her sister Jennifer, and her husband, Milo. Shit, Milo Jr. must’ve told them what happened.

Jennifer and Milo spot Mollie, and instantly run towards her.

Jennifer: Mol, what the hell were you thinking? *notices the bloody dress* Are you hurt?!

Mollie: I’m fine. It’s not my blood.

Jennifer looks at Milo, and he looks at Milo.

Milo: I’ll go find your aunt, Pep.

Milo runs out of the emergency room to try to find Jennifer’s aunt, who is a doctor at the hospital.

Back in the waiting room, Jennifer is trying to calm down Mollie. 

Jennifer: What the hell happened? Where were you?

Mollie: What, Milo didn’t tell you the whole story?

Jennifer: *angry* Mollie.

Mollie: I was with Weston, okay? I went to see him at his place.

Jennifer: *stressed* Mol, he lives in a bad neighborhood, what the hell were you thinking? You could’ve got yourself hurt, or killed!

Mollie: *yells* Don’t you think I know that? I should fucking be in that hospital bed, not him!

Jennifer: *confused* What?

The in-patient door opens and Weston’s mother is shown walking out, talking to someone on her cellphone. Her eyes are visibly red and puffy. Jennifer looks at Mollie’s dress once more and puts two-and-two together. Milo comes back and Jennifer immediately asks for his denim jacket. He gives it to her and then Jennifer gives it to Mollie to cover up her dress.

Milo: Your aunt is in her office, Pep.

Jennifer: *turns back around towards Mollie* Go into Aunt Gabby’s office; Mom is gonna be on her way and she can’t see you out here looking like this.

Mollie: And what do I tell Aunt Gabby?

Milo: She knows you’re here, Mollie.

The door opens and Gabby, Mollie and Jennifer’s aunt, call out for a “Mollie Sue Castro” as if she was a patient. Mollie turns around and walks towards the door. Jennifer and Milo leave the waiting room.

Mollie sits on top of the hospital bed while Gabby checks Mollie out to see if she’s okay. After finishing up, Gabby tosses her plastic gloves in the trash bin and sits across from Mollie in her office chair. 

Gabby: So, you’re gonna tell me what happened before your mom gets here?

Mollie: *sighs* I went to see Weston at his place. All I wanted to do was see him. Spend time with him. Get my mind off of everything happening in my life.

Gabby: And what did you tell your mom?

Mollie: That I was going to Milo’s to hang out… did you tell my mom that I was here?

Gabby: No, I didn’t even know Weston and you were here until Jennifer called me. She told me your mother called her worried that you weren’t home by midnight. Then you called her, saying you were at the hospital. She had to tell your mom where you were.

Mollie rubs her eyes with her palms.

Mollie: She’s gonna kill me.

Gabby: I’ll try talking to her. Why didn’t you and Weston just go to the movies or out for dinner or something? Why did it have to be at his place? Were his parents even home?

Mollie: *annoyed* Aunt Gabby, please.

Gabby: I’m sorry, Mollie. I’m just trying to understand what happened. I know you know better than to go into a bad neighborhood at that hour of the night. What was so special that…

Gabby stops her train of thought once she realizes that Mollie’s face is turning red and getting uncomfortable sitting on the hospital bed. Gabby rolls her seat closer to Mollie.

Gabby: Just get some rest, hun.

Gabby gets up from the chair and walks out of the office to get back to her job. Mollie curls up on the bed in the office and falls asleep.

Time passes by and Lydia, Mollie’s mother is seen walking fast into the waiting room. Walking to the desk, she demands she knows where her daughter is. The woman at the desk insists that no one from that name was admitted into the hospital, which Lydia refuses to believe. She looks to her right and sees a familiar face; Weston’s mother. His mother is bouncing her leg in nervousness, reading a magazine to get her mind off of what’s happening. Lydia is confused until she hears her name being called by a doctor. It’s her sister, Gabby. Lydia walks towards her sister.

Lydia: Where the hell is Mollie? Jennifer said she was here.

Gabby: She’s in my office, resting.

Lydia walks angrily past Gabby towards the direction of her office. Gabby goes after Lydia.

Gabby: Lydia, wait!

Lydia: *turns around* Let me handle my own daughter, Gab. This doesn’t involve you.

Gabby: You got to go easy on her. She’s not in the right headspace right now.

Lydia: And she wasn’t when she decided to see Weston without anyone knowing!

Gabby: Lyd, she’s covered in the boy’s blood for God’s sake.

Lydia: *eyes widen* What?

Gabby: Weston is in critical condition. A couple of neighborhood thugs beat him up after sticking up for Mollie. A stranger called the cops and ambulance for them. I know you saw Weston’s mother in the waiting room.

Lydia: Was… was Mollie…?

Gabby: No, she ran before the guys could do anything. Jennifer said she said she ran back to Weston’s place crying and scared. I can only assume Weston was defending Mollie.

Lydia drops her purse off from her shoulder and leans against the wall of the hallway. Gabby walks in front of Lydia.

Gabby: Lydia, this is bigger than what you think it may be. This wasn’t just some rebellious act on Mollie’s end.

Lydia: *angrily* When isn’t a rebellious act of Mollie’s? Y’know, I sometimes don’t understand what goes on in that girl’s mind. It’s like she purposely makes these bad decisions just to cause me a heart attack, I swear. She’s always been like this; it’s just gotten even worse as she grew up.

Gabby: I think they love each other, Lyd.

Lydia scrunches her eyebrows and folds her arms across her chest. 

Lydia: What are you talking about?

Gabby: Mollie practically cried herself to sleep in my office. She got to the hospital just repeating how it should’ve been her in a hospital bed, not Weston. She’s worried sick about him. I never saw Mollie as vulnerable as I saw her tonight, Lydia. She cares a lot about this boy and judging from his actions, he does too.

Lydia ponders the thought. She’s looking up and down the hallway, trying to fathom everything that’s happened tonight. 

Gabby: Instead of yelling at her when she wakes up and grounding her for the rest of her life, I suggest talking to her about this. Some teenage puppy love doesn’t land one of them fighting for their lives in the hospital and the other one covered in their blood.

Lydia looks at Mollie through the tiny window in Gabby’s office; she’s peaceful for the first time tonight. She turns around and exhales heavily.

Lydia: She’s too young to know what being in love is like, Gab. She’s only 18.

Gabby: *annoyed* Just how you fell in love with Shawn and got pregnant with Jennifer when you were 17?

Lydia: Yeah, and look where him and I are at now: divorced!

Gabby: That doesn’t excuse the fact that you were in love with him when you were Mollie’s age. It’s not impossible and you know it.

Lydia: *defeated* So what am I suppose to do? I doubt Weston’s mother is going to want Mollie anywhere near her son. They aren’t gonna stay from each other if it’s that serious.

Gabby: *shrugs* That’s a conversation further down the road. All I’m saying is to take an easy on Mollie. Sure, she made a dumb decision, but you made dumb decisions at her age as well.

A nurse walks up to Gabby and hands her a clipboard for a patient. Gabby takes off her lanyard to unlock the door of her office. 

Gabby: Try not to scare her, Lydia. I’ll be back in a few.

Gabby walks in the other direction and Lydia takes a moment before entering her sister’s office. Mollie will surely be the death of her. 

— The End —

There is a 23-year-old man, Micah with brown dreadlocks tied in a bun looking through a mirror. He’s straightening out his very patterned blazer with his bowtie, making sure that everything looks alright. While he’s doing that, a pregnant 23-year-old with wild curly hair, Rosie, walks into the room.

Rosie: Well someone’s looking snazzy tonight! Who’s the lucky chick?

Micah: *looks at Rosie through the mirror* There’s no date tonight, Roe, I told you about this gala thing that my folks attend every year. I even invited you to come.

Rosie: Parties aren’t my thing. Besides, I suffocate you enough while we’re in this house.

Micah rolls his eyes and smiles.

Micah and Rosie have been best friends since their college days, and just recently he asked her to move into his place in order to help her out. While to the outside world it looks like they’re dating, they actually aren’t. Although Micah has been secretly in love with Rosie for years, he’s grateful that Rosie even allows him to be this close to her; she’s had a rough past.

Micah continues to look at Rosie through the mirror, who’s made herself comfortable on his bed. He wishes that’s where she slept permanently. He snaps out of the thought and looks at himself now in the mirror.

Micah: *sighs* Do I dare try taking my nose-ring out?

Rosie gets off the bed and stands behind Micah to see the entire vision.

Rosie: I think the loud, patterned blazer will distract everyone from seeing your face, Mic.

Micah: Hey, I look good in this blazer!

Rosie: *pats Micah on the shoulder* Keep telling yourself that, bud.

Rosie playfully laughs and walks out of Micah’s bedroom. Micah stays in place, hoping tonight will go by as quick and as smooth as possible. No distractions, no small talk, nothing; he just wants to come back to join Rosie in their own world. 

Rosie is now sitting on the couch, scrolling through the channels on the TV. Micah walks into the living room and towards the front door.

Micah: Alright Roe, I shouldn’t be there long. You’re gonna be okay here on your own?

Rosie: I got cola, oily potato chips, and double fudge brownies from last night, I’ll definitely be alright. *laughs* Go have some fun, babe.

Rosie laughs while Micah smiles and rolls his eyes; she loves to play that game. He opens the front door and walks out of the apartment.

---

In the gala, nothing but ballgowns and suits cover the ballroom floor and nothing but twinkle lights and fancy fabric covers the ceiling of the venue. Micah has greeted his parents, Milo and Jennifer, as well as his siblings; Milo Jr, Reagan, & Dylan. They all asked where “his girlfriend” is, and Micah easily comes up with the lie that Rosie was feeling sick from the pregnancy. He can only wish that one day, that excuse can benefit him and his attendance to places. 

For most of the night, Micah tries to keep a low profile; possibly near a corner that is closest to the bar. 

As he minds his own business on his phone by himself, he hears a very familiar voice that makes his heart sink to the pit of his stomach.

Kalia: Hi, Micah.

Micah looks up and sees Kalia, a tall girl with wavy blonde hair, and she’s wearing a shimmery navy blue and white dress.

Kalia was the first girl Micah fell in love with. They met in high-school; she had a passion for music just like him, and even after learning the fact that Kalia is the daughter of a famous Swedish-American actor, her fame didn’t stray him away from her. They dated for two years until she decided to leave her American life behind to follow her father back to Sweden to kickstart her own acting career. She pretty much left him and their relationship behind, which broke Micah’s heart.

Micah snaps back to reality and still stares at Kalia; is she really standing in front of him?

Micah: K- Kalia, hey.

They share an awkward silence as he sits at the table and she stands over it. She looks down at the seat across from Micah.

Kalia: May I?

Micah: Yeah, yeah, sure.

He readjusts himself as she takes a seat. He can’t seem to take his eyes off of Kalia; she’s fucking beautiful.

Kalia: You look so different compare to high-school.

Micah: Thanks… You do too.

Kalia: The dreadlocks, the nose-ring, the fashion; you’ve definitely grown into your own.

Micah: Hey, better late than never, huh?

Kalia smiles, then immediately sighs.

Micah: So, what brings you back to the states?

Kalia: I’m currently filming some scenes for a movie here; also, to visit my mother while I’m here.

Micah: That’s nice. She still lives in the city?

Kalia: Yep. She’s still doing her art thing as well.

Micah immediately thinks of Rosie when Kalia brings up art. He smiles at the thought. Kalia smiles back at him.

Kalia: Dad’s back in Sweden. He’s working on a huge project there with a couple of other actors.

Micah: And Marcielle?

Kalia: She’s here tonight! Probably mingling with people and whatnot.

Micah: *nods* Ah, I see… so my father told you I was here?

Kalia nervously picks at her hands and laughs; Micah already knows the answer.

Kalia: I saw him with your mother in the other ballroom, I figured you were here too, y’know? I remember back when you–

Micah: I asked you to come with me to that year’s gala. *smiles* I never heard the end of it from my father when I came back home drenched in ocean water.

Kalia: *laughs* Oh my god, I remember that! We ditched the party and decided to take a walk on the beach.

Micah: Man, all I did was splash you a little bit with my foot. You decided to push me all the way in.

They both genuinely laugh and remember about the good ole times. When the laughs die down, Kalia takes a deep breath.

Kalia: Wanna do that again?

Micah: *scrunches his eyebrows* What?

Kalia: Let’s relive that memory, Micah.

Micah is confused; he doesn’t understand where Kalia is going with this. 

Micah: Kalia, we’re- we’re grown adults now. We can’t just be reckless like that.

Kalia: Why not? Why can’t we just relive those memories for one night?

Micah is speechless; he doesn’t even know what to say, but the only thing that he’s ever wanted to say to Kalia.

Micah: Why did you leave in the first place, Kalia?

Kalia is taken back from the question. The visible happiness is now gone from her face. 

Kalia: What do you mean?

Micah: You know exactly what I’m talking about, Kalia. Why did you just leave out of the blue three years ago?

Kalia: Are we really talking about this right now? It was three years ago. I’m sorry, but I wanted to start my career and be close to my family…

Micah: That I get; cool, but why didn’t you talk to me about it? Why did I have to find out through my dad that you were leaving America?

Kalia fidgets in her seat and says something in Swedish under her breath. She brushes her hair back and folds her arms on the table.

Kalia: I didn’t want to hurt you.

Micah: And you thought not telling your boyfriend that you were leaving for good wasn’t going to hurt me?

Kalia: Micah, please…

Micah: Kal, I loved you.

Kalia: I know you did.

Micah: No, you didn’t.

Kalia looks at Micah, apologetically.

Micah: I was madly in love with you, Kalia. Despite our differences in age and lifestyles, you understood me best. No matter what you needed from me, I tried my best to be there for you with open arms. I was there for you on the nights that you couldn’t go back to your mom’s place because she was so fucked up and couldn’t remember the padlock code to your condo? I was there when the whole world was trying to figure out who “Kalia Holder” was dating and I didn’t care if they did because fuck it, I was that much in love with you. After everything we went through, I deserved at least a phone call or text from you saying you were leaving.

Micah gets up from the table.

Micah: Your silence back then showed me just how much you loved me.

Micah walks away towards the balcony and Kalia runs after him.

Kalia: Micah, wait!

Micah stops at his tracks. Why does this girl still have a hold on him? Kalia steps forward to Micah and turns him around.

Kalia: I didn’t know what to say. I honestly didn’t know how to not break your heart. I know that’s a shitty answer, and I hate that I thought it was the right thing to do, but I was young and dumb.

Kalia and Micah are now inches away from each other. The tension is unfathomable.

Kalia: I never stopped loving you, Micah. You were the best thing to happen to me. You made my life feel normal and simple. When I left, I immediately regretted the decision. I felt lost; I felt like I lost my best friend. I always wanted to come back and explain this to you, but I never knew how to undo my wrongs.

Kalia looks down at the ground, regretful. Micah reaches out to her chin and lifts it up. They look at each other.

Kalia: I’m so sorry, Micah.

Micah doesn’t think twice and kisses Kalia; perhaps it’s the alcohol in his system talking, or it’s truly his still broken heart wanting to be this close to her again. The kiss is deep, it’s longing, and it’s apologetic for everything that’s happened. After the kiss, Micah takes Kalia’s hand.

Micah: Let’s go to the beach.

---

Hours later, the front door to Micah’s dark apartment opens. Two silhouettes are seen entering the apartment. Micah turns on the living room light and drops his shoes near the door; their attire is damp from being on the beach. Both Micah and Kalia giggle softly at the way they look. 

Micah: I hope the beach didn’t completely ruin that dress.

Kalia: *laughs* It’ll be alright, it’s just water.

Kalia slowly walks to Micah and tugs on his bowtie.

Kalia: Perhaps maybe we can salvage what’s left of my dress by having you take it off, huh?

She kisses Micah and works her way to undo the bowtie and unbutton the top of his shirt. Micah starts to get nervous.

Micah: Kal, I don’t think we should be–

Micah closes his eyes. If Kalia knew one thing about him, it was what spot to kiss on his neck. He can’t get sucked into this; he knows he’ll regret doing this in the morning, and more so she will as well. He can’t trust the fact that this won’t just be a hit-and-quit type of scenario. But damn, he can’t get her to stop.

They begin making out in the living room, and Kalia continues to unbutton Micah’s shirt. Once the shirt is halfway off, she notices a black and white rose tattooed on his chest.

Kalia: Ooo, that’s hot; nice little rose on your chest.

Micah’s eyes widen: Fuck. Rosie.

Micah snaps out of the moment and tries to gain back control of the situation. He remembers that his best friend/person he loves is in the other room, possibly sleeping. Everything started to come back; Rosie was the one person in his life to get him out of the slump he was in when Kalia left and broke his heart. He remembers going to Rosie’s old apartment drunk out of his mind trying to drown out the heartbreak and depression he was going through and how Rosie was there to get him through it all, despite the fact she was battling her own demons. 

Micah gets up from the couch and backs away.

Micah: I’m sorry, Kalia. I can’t do this.

Kalia: What? Why? Didn’t you have fun tonight with me?

Micah: *tries to compose himself* It’s not that I didn’t, it’s just that- I- I just can’t do this to myself. I can’t let myself get in too deep.

Kalia gets up from the couch and walks towards Micah.

Kalia: You… You don’t love me anymore?

Micah takes in a deep breath; he’s honestly lost for words. He looks down at the ground and then back at Kalia.

Micah: It’s not that. It’s just too little too late now.

Kalia nods her head, and she begins to gather her things.

Micah: I’m sorry, Kal.

Kalia: *angrily* Nah, you just brought me back here just to get your revenge and break my heart now since I broke yours years ago, is that what it was?

Micah: *defensive* Oh, so you think I’m that type of person?

Kalia: I don’t know the person you are now! It’s been three years!

Micah: *angry* So why the fuck did you decide to come back here? Huh? Just needed a good time, just how you always thought of me as?

Kalia: *yells* You know what? Fuck you, Micah, okay? Go fuck yourself!

A door is heard being open on the other side of the apartment. Both Micah and Kalia stop what they’re doing to now look at the person standing at the other side of the room. Rosie is standing there in her pajamas, curly hair up in the bun, and her pregnant belly poking in her shirt. 

Rosie looks at what’s happening in the living room and puts two-and-two together.

Rosie: I thought I told you to pick up a woman, Micah, not a skank.

Micah’s eyes widen, Kalia’s speechless, and Rosie? She’s ready to kill a bitch for her best friend.

 

— The End —

 

 

— Spring 2026 —

It’s a calm and clear night, even in a neighborhood that’s not the safest to be in at this time of the hour. An 18-year-old girl with curly red-hair, Mollie, is cautiously walking on the sidewalk; this is her first time coming to this part of town at night before. She looks behind her to see if there’s anyone following her and she doesn’ dare take out her cell phone while she’s out either. She knows where she’s going, and she’s hoping to get there fast. 

She finally reaches her destination; a small little apartment on the side of a complex. She knocks on the door and within seconds, a boy answers the door; an 18-year-old boy with wavy dirty blonde hair and the deepest blue of eyes, Weston. He smiles at Mollie, and invites her in. 

Weston: I really appreciate you coming all the way here, but we could’ve just went to your place if you wanted to.

Mollie: My mom is home for the night; I told her I was going to the movies with Milo.

Weston: *concerned* But isn’t Milo your sister’s stepson? Won’t they still find out?

Mollie: *laughs* There’s nothing for you to worry about. We got this. We’ve been doing this for years.

Weston playfully raises his eyebrows as Mollie sticks out her tongue at him; he’s glad that she’s here. 

Mollie: But I gotta say, your neighborhood at night is freaky. How do you guys do it?

Weston: We just got used to it. Once people know you belong in the neighborhood, they don’t bother you. It’s only when they don’t recognize you.

Mollie: Ah, so, me?

Weston: *playfully* I think you came here enough times for everyone to know you down this block.

Mollie: Don’t say it like that! It makes me sound slutty or something.

Weston: What? Can’t two friends just enjoy each other’s company without it being sexual?

Mollie looks at Weston, who is clearly playing with her emotions. They’re friends, but they both know they really like (more like love) each other, yet they don’t want to admit it. Mollie wants him, but she’s afraid to drag him in her world of self-destruction. She knows Weston is so much better with another “put together” girl in their grade, yet she can’t seem to get away from him, and neither can he.

Mollie: *plays back* I don’t know, can they?

Weston is caught off-guard from Mollie’s response; oof. This definitely the first time he’s ever had a girl over his place at this time of night, and Mollie’s snarky responses is not helping the situation at hand. 

While Weston was still in thought, Mollie walks throughout the living room to see the pictures hanging on the wall; she never noticed them in detail before.

Mollie: You used to play baseball as a kid?

Weston walks over to Mollie, and looks up at the wall of pictures with her. 

Weston: That’s my brother, Mason. He was the athletic one when we were younger. *points at another picture* That was me.

A picture with a geeky kid in glasses holding a game controller in his hands is shown.

Mollie: *holds in laughter* Oh! You were… so cool.

Mollie bursts out laughing and Weston nudges her a bit.

Weston: Hey! We all have our awkward phases! Mine just so happened a little later in life… at 12.

Mollie: Hey, mine was 14. Braces and tangled hair and scraped knees from dancing.

Weston: You used to dance?

Mollie: *sighs* Still do.

Weston: *wonders* Then what are you doing in the vocal program? *catches himself* Not that I’m saying you can’t sing, because you sing better than anyone else in the class, and–

Mollie: *laughs* Thanks, Wes. Dancing has been more of an outlet rather than something I wanted to do in school and hate it, y’know? I’ve danced for most of my life, and it’s always been a sacred thing for me. Nobody at the school knows that I dance besides Milo. I just didn’t want to be in a program where all the girls are snobby and rich and can afford to be in such a tedious program. So, I just decided to go into the vocal one instead.

Weston: I mean, you should be doing what you want to do though, Mol.

Mollie: And I am, just not at school.

Weston looks at Mollie while she continues to look at the wall. He takes in her beauty; the concentration on her face looking at the photos on the wall, possibly wondering about his past as much as he wonders about hers. She then looks at Weston, then back at another photo on the wall.

Mollie: *points* Was this you back in San Francisco?

Weston: Yeah. Mason and I had to have been like 4-years-old in that picture. *looks closer* That used to be my favorite dinosaur toy. I took that thing with me everywhere.

Mollie: Aww, did you like dinosaurs as a kid?

Weston: No, it was the last thing my father gave to me before he left.

Mollie looked at Weston as he kept staring at the picture.

Mollie: It seems like when they give you such a nice gift, it’s never just a gift. There’s always some “but” involved. “Here’s a pair of earrings, but dad’s not gonna be there for your birthday.” 

Weston: *looks at Mollie* Your present was a pair of earrings?

Mollie places her hair behind her ear and shows Weston the tiny hoop earrings. Weston reaches out to touch one of them on her ear. She doesn’t move, nor does he. Nothing is said, they just look at each other for a moment.

Mollie: At least you were able to let go of your last present; your past.

Mollie finds herself too exposed and tries to guard her feelings and vulnerable side. She snaps out of the thought and walks over to the couch.

Mollie: So, Milo told me that Sophie is having her birthday party in two weeks; I really hope her plastic friends don’t cause a scene, like, can we just be cordial for the sake of our friends?

Weston walks to the couch to sit next to Mollie. 

Weston: Mol.

Mollie: I mean, technically I wasn’t invited because of her friends but hello Milo is my best friend and I’m not about to let him just walk into a party without no backup like those bitches are evil and–

Weston: *snaps in front of Mollie’s face* Mollie.

Mollie: *widens eyes* Huh?

Weston: You don’t have to pretend with me. I know that talking about your family just now was a lot for you to do, and that’s okay if that’s all you want to talk about. Thank you for trusting me enough to hear even a portion of your history.

Mollie is at a loss for words.

Mollie: *defensive* So just because I tell you two little lousy secrets of mine you think you know what’s best for me?

Weston: *confused* Wait, what?

Mollie: I don’t need you thinking that I’m this broken, damaged person that needs someone to fix them or save them. I’m not broken, I don’t need to be found or fixed, I’m perfectly fine! So just stop trying to just be so understanding because you’re just lying to yourself. Everyone has.

Weston looks at Mollie with the most confused look on his face. What just happened? What is she saying?

Weston: Mollie, I’m not trying to save you or fix you or do anything to change you.

Mollie looks back at Mollie; unsure and worried.

Weston: There’s more to you than your past, Mol. I’m not here to figure you out or to take your past and use it against you. I’m here for this version of you. The present you. The one that is funny, and spunky, and such a badass. The one that’s an awesome fucking friend and bandmate and would do anything for the people she loves. The one sitting right in front of me, at this moment.

Weston turns his body towards Mollie to give her his undivided attention.

Weston: I’m here for you, and I’ll listen to you whenever you’re ready to share your story, Mol.

Weston makes the first move and gets closer to Mollie. She stays put, but watches Weston get closer. She’s not protesting. Weston gently cups her face with his hands and kisses her. She kisses him back. After their first kiss, they look at each other intently. 

Mollie: Did we just… ?

Weston: Yeah.

Mollie gets up from the couch and starts to panic. She’s pacing back and forth and Weston gets up and tries to calm her down.

Weston: Mol, hey, hey, it’s okay-

Mollie: We can’t do this, I can’t fuck this up, you’re the best fucking thing to happen to me and I can’t fuck that up, I-

Weston kisses Mollie again and her body instantly calms down. This time the kiss is deeper and more passionate; it lasts longer than the first. When they break up the kiss, Mollie is silent. Weston still caresses his hands on her face.

Weston: You’re the best fucking thing to happen to me, Mollie Sue Castro.

He takes control and they start making out. Mollie completely sinks into Weston’s touch until she starts leading him towards his room. The kiss doesn’t break until they reach the door. They pause and look at each other to see if the other person is okay about what’s going to happen next. Weston pushes the bedroom door open and they practically fall in the room.

---

Mollie and Weston are now standing in the front door. Weston is wearing a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie without a t-shirt on, while Mollie’s once-tamed-curly-hair is now tied up in a messy bun. 

Mollie: Tonight was great, Wes. Thank you.

Weston: I honestly should be thanking you, if anything.

Mollie nudges Weston as they laugh; still the same old people.

Mollie: Seriously though, thank you for just even… seeing me for who I am in this moment.

Weston: That’s the you that matters most… but man, I hope I get to see the you that was in my bed 30 minutes ago again. 

Mollie covers her face with her hands as she shakes her head; Weston hugs her for reassurance.

Mollie: What am I going to do with you, Weston?

Weston: *pulls away from the hug to look at Mollie* Whatever you’d like to do, Mol.

Mollie looks at Weston with an endearing look and then takes a hand to his face.

Mollie: Can’t stay away from the dirty jokes, huh?

She gently pats him on the cheek; Weston laughs – same old Mollie, yet a little more open and calmer.

Mollie begins to put her sweater on to get herself ready to go home; it’s extremely late into the night. Weston notices the thin material of Mollie’s sweater and offers her one of his.

Weston: It may be Spring, but the night still screams Winter.

Mollie: And what am I suppose to say to my mom when I mysteriously come home with another person’s hoodie?

Weston: Tell her it’s Milo’s; sure his taste is not as great as mine, but it’ll do for the time being.

Mollie: *laughs* I’m so telling him you said that.

Weston: Hey, he knows it’s true.

They both laugh and look at each other for a moment. Mollie takes in a deep breath nervously. 

Mollie: Well, I should get going, it’s gonna be a long train ride home.

Weston: Mol, are you sure you don’t want me to call you an Uber? It’s really no big deal.

Mollie: I’m a big girl, Wes. The night-time doesn’t scare me.

Weston: As long as you’re sure. *kisses Mollie one last time* Call me when you get home.

Mollie: I gotcha.

Mollie opens up the door and walks out; she waves at Weston as she walks down the stoop and onto the sidewalk. Weston smiles at Mollie and then closes the door. 

Mollie walks down the block towards the train station. She’s about to put in her headphones until she hears a group of guys in front of her, looking at her:

Street Guy #1: Hey pretty mama, whatcha doing out here at this time of night? Looking for a date?

Mollie ignores the guy like she usually does whenever someone cat-calls her. It is New York City after all.

The guys get up from where they are sitting and try to stop Mollie in her tracks.

Street Guy #2: Yo honey, my mans asked you a question.

Mollie: *annoyed* Look, I don’t want any trouble tonight, just leave me alone.

Street Guy #1: We ain’t here to cause trouble either, sweetheart, we’re looking for a good time *laughs with the other two guys*

Mollie: Well, go find your good time with someone else, because it’s not with me, asshole.

Street Guy #1: A little feisty one, aren’t you? Even better.

The three guys surround Mollie now in the middle of the empty street, Mollie’s tough demeanor is now weakening with fear. She tries to keep her eyes on all three guys just in case they try to do anything funny. One comments on the length of her dress and grabs to grab it.

Street Guy #3: Any girl wearing a short little dress like this is asking for it, baby.

Mollie: I said leave me the fuck alone!

The three guys continue to laugh until Mollie’s fight response kicks in. She punches one of the street guys in the face so hard, it knocks him on the ground. As soon as he hits the ground, she runs down the block and the guys run after her. 

Street Guy: #1: Get back here you bitch!

Mollie is now fully in panic, she runs back down the block that Weston lives on in hopes that she can reach it before it’s too late. The guys are nearly behind Mollie now, and she’s afraid the worst is yet to come. Thankfully, Weston’s house is just seconds away and when she reaches the front door, she’s banging on it like her life depended on it, because it did.

Mollie: Weston, please! Open the door, open the door!

A few seconds later, Weston opens the door and Mollie pushes herself inside. She pushes the door shut and she starts to cry. 

Weston: Mollie, are you okay? What happened?

Mollie: *hysterical* These guys are after me, they tried to–  they–

The front door is now banging non-stop. Angry voices of the guys are heard from outside. Mollie holds her head in her arms, trying to stop herself from hearing the guys yelling. 

Weston: *crouches down* Mollie, it’s okay, you’re safe now, they can’t hurt you.

One of the guys outside is heard screaming “That bitch is gonna get hers! When you come back out here bitch, you ain’t never coming back out in these streets!” Weston gets extremely angry hearing the guys outside and decides to take matters in his own hands. He goes into the closet to take out a baseball bat. Mollie realizes what Weston is about to do.

Mollie: No! Don’t do it, Weston, it’s not worth it, they’ll go away!

Weston doesn’t hear Mollie speak. He just opens the door and walks out.

Mollie: Weston!

Mollie gets up from the floor and opens the front door to get Weston. She stands at the entrance and watches Weston walk up to the three guys.

Weston: Y’all think ya tough trying to beat up a woman?! Fight someone your own damn size, punks!

Mollie runs down the stoop stairs and follows Weston. She runs after him.

Mollie: Weston! Stop!

Once Mollie reaches Weston, he’s surrounded by the three guys in a fighting stance. He’s swinging the bat trying to hit one of them until one of them sneaks up behind him and knocks him to the floor. All three guys are ganging up on him. Mollie screams and runs towards the scene until she seems a tall man running from the other direction towards the scene.

Tall Man: Hey! Get the hell outta here before I call the cops!

The guys run away from the scene and Weston is still on the ground. Mollie runs towards Weston in a panic; he’s in really bad shape. The tall man stands around Weston on the phone with the cops.

Mollie: Weston, please. Please wake up.

Weston doesn’t move or open his eyes. Mollie holds Weston in her arms, covered in his blood, waiting for the ambulance to come. 

 

— The End —

A family of four and a guest sir at the dining room table, having dinner on a Saturday evening. A mother and father, Sophie and Milo, a 20-year old girl and her boyfriend, Summer and Evan, and a 12-year-old boy, Emerson. Light chatter and the clanking of forks and glass cups surround the small dining area. 

The atmosphere is broken when the doorbell rings. 

Sophie: Were you expecting someone, Milo?

Milo: Not that I know of…

Milo gets up from the table and walks towards the front door.

Milo: Jennifer and my dad aren’t coming until next Sunday for dinner…

Milo opens the door and is taken back by who’s at the door. A tall, skinny redhead in a wool coat is standing there; she’s Milo’s forever best friend, Mollie. Milo hasn’t seen Mollie ever since she left NYC 12 years ago to live out her dream of being a dancer. She’s traveled the world, dance for the elites, made a name out of herself, but it cost her her marriage and the child she left behind. Once Mollie left, most of her family shunned her away due to the poor choice she made to leave her child behind. Milo has been the only one that’s willing to talk to her throughout these years. 

Milo: M- Mollie.

Mollie: Hey, Milo.

Awkward silence. In the distance, Sophie is heard yelling at Milo, “who is it, hun?” until she walks to the door behind Milo and sees who it is. She is just in shock to see Mollie as Milo is. 

---

Sophie is now cleaning the kitchen after dinner and the kids are doing their own thing around the house. Milo and Mollie sit at the dining room table across from each other, not saying anything. Mollie is in deep thought, trying to say what she wants to say in this conversation, while Milo sits there speechless. 

Mollie: So, uhm… how’s everyone doing?

Milo: Everyone’s doing good. The kids are okay, Soph’s okay… how about you? It’s been a while, huh?

Mollie rolls her eyes and sighs; Milo knows when to get right over the bullshit. 

Mollie: I’m sorry I haven’t called for a while. Things got really crazy when I was in India for this production.

Milo: Wasn’t that gig like 4 months ago?

Mollie: *sighs* Milo…

Milo: I’m just stating the facts, Mol. You know I worry about you.

Mollie: *annoyed* I’m a grown woman, Milo, we aren’t kids anymore.

Milo: So why are you here?

Mollie looks at Milo dumbfounded.

Mollie: Why are you acting like that?

Milo: Look, Mollie, I haven’t seen you in person for 12 years. My kids don’t even know who you are and you show up here in the middle of our dinner where Sophie and I was meeting my daughter’s boyfriend for the first time?

Mollie: Sum-Summer has a boyfriend?

Milo: *cold* Summer is 20-years-old, Mol. She’s not the little kid you remember her as.

Mollie takes in the reality on how long she’s truly been gone. 

Mollie: You are the only person I could talk to, Milo. I haven’t spoken to my mom or Jennifer or Maryette in years; they want nothing to do with me and–

Milo: *interrupts* What made you come back? Why now?

Mollie: *sullenly* I can’t competively dance anymore. I broke one of my bones in my foot and I had to retire. I’m simply back to start my life over.

Milo: *srunches eyebrows* Listen, I respect you coming back to start your life over, but don’t you think it’s a little too late?

Mollie: *angrily* And who gave you the right to dictate whether or not it’s too late, huh?

Milo: Mollie, Weston doesn’t live in New York anymore. He moved to Virginia with your daughter.

Mollie: Who said anything about Weston or my daughter?

Milo is now confused. Did he miss something?

Milo: Aren’t you back in New York for them?

Mollie: No, I’m not.

Milo gets up from the table and circles around a bit; Mollie doesn’t move.

Milo: So let me get this straight… You come back to New York to start your life over, y’know, live like one of us normal folk, but don’t want to make things right with your family?

Mollie is about to say something until Milo cuts her off.

Milo: And I’m not talking about your mom, or your sisters, and not even with Weston; I’m talking about your daughter, Mol.

Mollie: What am I supposed to say? “Hi, you’re a whole ass 12-year-old girl now but I’m the mother that chose her career over you and now that’s over and done with, I want to be back in your life”?

Milo: It’s a damn start!

Mollie gets up from the table to be face-to-face with Milo; she’s now even more angry.

Mollie: No, it’s not. You don’t know how Weston is going to react if I just show up in bubblefuck Virginia and demand to see my daughter. I have no custody over her, technically I don’t exist in their world and I would rather it say that way. Why hurt the one person I wish I didn’t hurt even more by showing up in her life and force her to love and respect me just because I’m her mother. I would rather her live her life the way she’s living it without me in it; she doesn’t need me ruining her damn life.

Mollie turns back around towards the table to gather her purse in order to leave the house.

Milo: Mollie, wait.

Mollie stands near the front door and rools her eyes. She turns around to look at Milo. Milo walks up to her. 

Milo: I’m sorry, Mollie. You know I won’t ever understand what happened between you and Weston. It just upsets me because I could never imagine my life without my kids. You know the hardships Sophie and I went through when Summer was born. We were just kids ourselves–

Mollie: I wasn’t ready to have a child yet–

Milo: You think I was ready at 18, Mol? You were 25–

Mollie gets her coat from the coat hanger.

Mollie: It was a stupid idea to come here, just forget it.

Milo: *yells* Can you just listen to me for once, Mollie?

They both stand there in silence. No noise in the house is present either.

Milo: Mollie, I fucking care about you. You’ve been my best friend since we were babies, I’m only frustrated at you because you keep running away from the things that matter the most. I get it, you don’t want to cause confusion and give off mixed feelings towards your daughter, but she also deserves to know the truth and she deserves to know that deep down in that thick skull of yours, you constantly think about her every single day and hope she’s doing fine. Now I don’t know why you came here first out of all the people you should be making amends with, but–

Mollie: I need a place to stay, Milo. I don’t have nowhere else to go and you’re the only one that gives a shit about me. I don’t have anyone else.

Milo is taken back by Mollie’s words; he’s speechless.

Mollie: Please, Milo. We’ve always had each other’s backs. I know I haven’t been the greatest person in a while, but I can’t do this on my own. All the money I had went towards my hospital bills and the plane ticket back here, I just want to be able to get on my feet, but I need your help.

Milo takes in a deep breath.

Milo: Mollie…

Mollie: I will not be here long, Milo. I promise I will not overstay my welcome and try to be out of your hair as soon as possible.

Milo: I’ll talk to Sophie about it.

Mollie hugs Milo and Milo is taken back. Mollie isn’t the lovey-dovey type of person.

Mollie: Thank you so so so so much, Milo!

Milo: *smiles* Yeah, yeah… You know I gotchu, but you’re going to need a job if you’re looking to get out of here quick.

Mollie puts her coat back on the coat hanger and tosses her purse on the sofa.

Mollie: Oh, which reminds me, I have a job interview at our old high-school! They’re looking for a dance teacher!

Milo: *wides widen* Wait, what?!

Mollie: Yeah! I wonder if your dad still works there, remember when we had them for chorus class? Man, that must’ve been awkward for you, Milo.

Mollie goes to sit back down at the dining room table where she has left her cup of coffee. Milo is still standing there in awe.

Milo: My father doesn’t work there anymore. I do.

Mollie spits out her coffee in shock. She wipes her mouth and looks at Milo, who is also looking at Mollie. 

Aren’t they going to have some adventures together, huh?

— The End —

*For reference of these characters, read this scene first*

A man with dark brown hair and a woman with light brown curly hair with different color streaks walk down the suburban area of NYC. They are carrying a “happy birthday!” gift bag and a tray of homemade cupcakes. The man, Micah, holds everything while the woman, Rosie, insists she helps hold something. Micah does not want her to hold anything in her condition, and Rosie rolls her eyes. 

They stop in front of a little house at the end of the block.

Micah: Well, this is the place.

Rosie: *sighs* I’m not ready.

Micah: C’mon, it’s no big deal, Roe.

Rosie: *raises up an eyebrow* Micah, you’re a momma’s boy. I’m nervous just being in the same room as her. You know she never liked me.

Micah: Hey, that’s not true. You got this, we just gotta act like ourselves.

Micah smiles at Rosie to reassure her. She still doesn’t budge.

Rosie: Then why do I feel like I’m gonna hurl today’s lunch out in the street?

Micah: *laughs* You’ll be fine, Roe, c’mon.

He guides Rosie up the front stairs and rings the doorbell. A woman with red curly hair opens the door and greets both Micah and Rosie. Micah hands over the birthday gift bag and kisses his mother for her birthday. After hugging and greeting them, they all walk up to the living room area where an older man with dreadlocks and two teenage twin sisters come out of the kitchen area to greet everyone.

Rosie takes the cupcake tray from Micah and puts it in the kitchen.

Milo: *hugs Micah* Micah! It’s good to see you!

Micah: Hey dad. *teasingly looks at the girls* Hey, Reagan; hey Dylan!

The twin girls roll their eyes at their brother and laugh as they both walk into their bedroom. The feeling’s mutual.

Micah turns around and sees Rosie standing awkwardly near the doorframe. He walks to her to make her feel comfortable.

Micah: Hey, guys – you remember Rosie, right?

Jennifer: Of course; it’s nice to see you again, Rosie.

Rosie: *nervously* The pleasure is all mine, Mrs. Kamalani.

Micah looks at Rosie nervously; why would she be so proper to someone she’s known forever by now? 

Micah: Are Milo and Sophie coming with the kids?

Jennifer: He couldn’t make it, Summer came down with the flu, which then spread to the entire family… but they told me to say hi and ask you when you’re going to visit them again?

Micah: Times have been crazy lately, mom. I’ll give him a call later when I get home.

Rosie sits near Micah nervously; she’s allowing him to do all the talking as she just sits there and acts as normal as possible. Micah notices that Rosie is quieter than usual and isn’t her normal spunky self. When Jennifer excuses himself after Milo calls out to her, Micah turns around to face Rosie.

Micah: *caringly* Hey, you’re alright, Roe?

Rosie: Yeah I just- I feel like I don’t belong.

Micah: Stop it, you do. You’re my company and you’ve known my family for years.

Rosie: Yeah, as your friend, not as your “fake girlfriend that’s pregnant with *air quotes* your kid.”

Micah: Look, I know it’s weird, but having them over my place for dad’s birthday in a few weeks is going to raise the question of why you’re living with me. It eliminates that discussion.

Rosie: Oh, but then what’s the excuse you’re gonna give when they start coming over and see me with a huge fucking belly…

Micah: *shhes Rosie* We will get to that bridge when we need to cross it.

Jennifer comes back into the living room area and sits down on the single lounge chair across from the sofa the other two are sitting.

Jennifer: So, how have you been, honey? It seems like you barely come around anymore.

Micah: Yeah, I’ve just been busy trying to get my life together, you know the deal.

Jennifer: It still doesn’t mean you can’t drop by every now and then.

Micah: *reassuring* I’ll do what I can, mom.

The conversation stops, and now Jennifer is focused on Rosie.

Jennifer: And how have you’ve been, Rosie? I haven’t seen you since you and Micah graduated from college last year.

Rosie: *nervously* Yeah, I’ve been busy doing my art thing, nothing unusual.

Jennifer: Ah, that’s nice. Do you still live in the neighborhood?

Rosie looks at Micah. He doesn’t look at her, but he knows.

Micah: So Mom, uh Milo told me the other day that you were thinking about retiring for good? Giving the business to Aunt Mollie when she comes back to the city?

Rosie exhales to herself, thankful that Micah got her message of nervousness. While the mother and son were catching up, Rosie excuses herself to go to the bathroom. Pregnancy sicknesses. Jennifer notices.

Rosie: Excuse me for a moment, just have to use the bathroom.

Micah: Yeah, it’s the second door on the left.

Rosie quickly gets up and head towards the bathroom.

Jennifer: Is she okay?

Micah: Yeah, she’s fine, mom.

Jennifer sits closet to Micah.

Jennifer: Micah, what’s going on? You never brought Rosie over for a dinner like this.

Fuck. This conversation wasn’t supposed to happen until everyone got together at the dinner table.

Micah: I mean, there’s a first for everything, y’know? I just decided to bring her along.

Milo calls the family for dinner; saved by the bell. Rosie walks to the table and Micah follows behind her. Jennifer also follows.

—–

Midway into the dinner, everything seems to be going as normal as possible; the twins are talking about their school lives and playfully teasing each other, Milo begins pouring wine into everyone’s glasses except the twins, who are drinking soda. After pouring Micah’s glass, he attempts to pour Rosie a glass.

Rosie: Oh, uhm, I’m fine, really.

Milo: Are you sure? Pasta always tastes better with some wine though. Not even a little sip?

Dylan: *intervenes* Dad, leave the poor girl alone.

Milo: What? I’m just being the hostess with the mostest. *to Rosie* Are you positive you don’t want any?

Micah: *annoyed* Dad…

Rosie: *nervously blurts out* I can’t even drink anyway.

Micah wides his eyes but avoids making a scene. He can only hope she heard what she said and tries to cover it up.

Rosie: I, uh, can’t drink because uhm, I’m a recovering alcoholic. *agreeing with herself* Yep. Recovering alcoholic.

Milo finally takes the bottle away from Rosie and the table is silent. Micah has absolutely no words for what just happened.

Milo: Really? That’s amazing, Rosie. *holds up his glass* Congratulations to your sobriety!

Rosie: *confidently* Thank you so much, Mr. Kamalani.

Micah chugs down the glass of wine; he wants to burst out laughing, he wants to die in this very seat, he doesn’t even know how he’s still functioning properly, but everything is going by well. Until…

Jennifer: So Rosie, it was great for you to join us tonight. Micah never brings anyone over when he visits.

Rosie: *nervously laughs* I’m honored to be the first, then.

Jennifer: Well, there was that one time that girl came over; what was her name, honey?

Milo is in the middle of eating, the twins are watching the conversation go down, and Micah is now visibly annoyed.

Micah: That was years ago, Mom. I was also living here too.

Jennifer: Ahh, that’s right; that’s why we saw her a lot.

Micah looks intently at everyone at the dining room table except Rosie; he can’t stand to see the look on her face after going through this awkward conversation. 

Micah: Well that was in the past.

Jennifer: You’re right, honey.

There is a moment of silence while everyone is eating, until…

Jennifer: Do you still keep in touch with Kalia, Micah?

Micah drops his fork onto his plate and looks down at the table, Rosie is now visibly annoyed at the conversation at hand. She respects Mrs. Kamalani, and she knows that Micah is her first-born and her only son; he holds a special place in her heart. She knows that Mrs. Kamalani only wants the best for her son, but why did she have a problem with her? What did this Kalia girl have that she doesn’t? Whatever the case was, Rosie is not about to sit around and act primp and proper for Micah’s family. She’s spunky, and she needs to lay down some dominance.

Rosie: Mrs. Kamalani, I don’t know if Micah told you why he brought me here today, but he brought me here because there is something we wanted to tell you guys.

Micah’s eyes widen and immediately turned his head towards Rosie. He knows what’s about to happen, or does he? 

Rosie: He brought me here to formally introduce me as his girlfriend. 

Jennifer tries to keep her composure, yet her wides widen at the news. 

Rosie: *raises her arms* The cat’s outta the bag! So please, Mrs. Kamalani, I know you don’t approve of me as much as you lead us on, but out of the respect of your son, can we at least try to get along? I’m not going anywhere.

Jennifer is shocked at Rosie’s words. She’s speechless, and all she can do is look at Micah, and throw daggers at Rosie, who still feels on top of the world, until the pit of her stomach tells her otherwise. Bathroom break #2.

Rosie: Now if you excuse me, *begins to look sickly* I have to use the–

The bile comes up before she’s able to finish her sentence. Rosie runs to the bathroom to most likely hurl both meals she had today. Micah officially gives up and continues eating. His family now looks at him in shock.

Milo: *breaks the silence* Are you sure she’s going to be okay, son?

Micah: *nonchalantly* She’ll be fine, she’s just pregnant.

The Kamalani family all drop their forks and knives on the dining room table. No one says anything, no one moves or does anything… besides Micah, who’s just letting things go the way they are going, eating the rest of his dinner.