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Assistant: Title: Hello Darlin’
        Author: Walkingdownadarkalley Walkingdownadarkalley 
        Chapter: 9/14 
        Summary: It all started when Powder put up a wedding invitation on the fridge.I asked her not to mention Caitlyn, yet she openly recalls old stories and memories in a fond manner, a way to tease me. Each one is a stab to the heart, but over the years the pain numbed down to a dull, muted ache.ORSeveral years after a break up and zero communication, Vi gets a sudden invite to her ex’s wedding in London. Powder encourages her to go, but Vi isn’t sure she’s ready to see Caitlyn after things ended badly.
        Contents: Chapter 9: Why Doesn't She Love Me Anymore?
    

    

        
          
          
            Vi has a real moment, and we find out about certain hidden motivations and intentions.
          
        

      
        
          heyyyyyyyyy im alive sorry. School, holidays, new year, life, excuses, right? Anyways I actually (fun fact) hate a lot of this but ive spent way too much time staring at it and i get antsy when i take this long to update so here. Prepare yourselves, you've been warned, dont yell at me.AlsoRemember, the wedding date is April 12th. So, we're in mid-April right now.And I just made those email names up. dont click them. they fake
            
            (See the end of the chapter for  more notes.)
            
      
  

  
  
    
    


  February 21st, 20xx.

  To: 
  
    [email protected]
  

  From: 
  
    getjinxed69@gmail
  
  .com  
 
  
    Hey Mr. K! 
  
 
  
    This is <PRESIDIO_ANONYMIZED_PERSON>, Vi’s sister. I know this is probably weird and random, but I found your email on your website, and I wanted to discuss something with you. I don’t think we’ve ever actually gotten the chance to meet, but Vi always described you like you were a pretty chill dude, so I figured I’d just give this a shot. 
  

  
    So, I saw on Caitlyn’s Instagram that she just got engaged, am I right? Or was she just really excited about a new diamond ring or something? If she is, which I think I’m right in thinking so, I think you should convince Caitlyn to invite Vi to the wedding.
  

  
    Now hear me out.
  

  
    I dunno how you feel about their whole relationship. Vi told me bits and pieces but she never really got into the details or even really mentioned you by name, so maybe this is a horribly offensive thing to suggest. You can tell me to f@ck off and I will, just btw.
  

  
    But Vi is still in love with Caitlyn. She denies it, but it’s way too d@mn obvious. And I dunno if this is even a good idea but something tells me this might be a good way for her to finally face her feelings and do something or move on for good. At least she could possibly get some closure, I think. I know things ended badly, so it could maybe be good for both of them? All I know is I need 
  
  
    something 
  
  
    to change because Vi’s gotten better but she’s still just such a sour-puss and I have the feeling she’s going to end up sad and alone in an old folks home one day daydreaming about Caitlyn’s perfect hair or whatever lesbians think about. Either way she’s being a huge bummer, and it really f@cks with my vibe.
  

  
    Anyways, I hope you get back to me. Replying to this email is good, but really the best way to get a hold of me is my number (123-456-7890). Shoot me a text if you want. You strike me as an email guy, but I figured I’d give you the option.
  
 
  
    Powder. 
  



  .



  Something in me just completely snapped.
 
  Maybe it was the alcohol or just the insane emotional pressure I’d been under for the past few days. Probably both. But, either way, staring into those parental eyes of Caitlyn’s father, I couldn’t hold the dam back anymore. 
  
    I sobbed.
  
   The shots I took in the bar were a failed attempt to hold the tears back, merely a temporary solution. But when Tobias came and found me wandering lost, and said such genuine, beautiful words 
  
    (he always was a poet)
  
  , it was hard 
  
    not 
  
  to cry. 
 
  The tears came up so suddenly and violently, I think I startled him. After he spoke, I was silent for a moment, processing his words, making direct eye contact. But slowly my vision blurred. I remained frozen for a moment more before the first tear finally dripped over my waterline and I choked on words I didn’t know but wanted to say. Loudly I tried to reorient myself and catch my breath, only to babble and apologize for my sudden outburst. 
 
  “I– I– You–” were some of my feeble words, and yet he still looked at me with focus; like I was saying the most important thing in the world. “It’s– it’s—”
 
  “Violet,” softly, so softly, he said my name, stopping my words yet doing nothing to cease my strangled cries and gasping breaths as my nose was getting stuffy. “You need not say a word. You have 
  
    nothing 
  
  to feel poorly for. Please, allow yourself this moment of reprieve.”
 
  That made me crumble further, as Tobias’ words suddenly reminded me of something Vander would often say when I was throwing a fit. 
 
  
    “Tears don’t belong inside, kiddo. If yuh don’t let ‘em go, they'll overflow ’n drown your silly, little brain.”
  
 
  The hand that was still free started rubbing angrily at my face, trying to destroy the evidence, but Tobias took that one away too. He held it along with my other one, squeezing comfortingly. He spared me one more kind look before he gently wrapped an arm over my shoulder and encouraged me to lay my head on his own shoulder. And I did with sickening ease. 
 
  I never liked the idea of being weak. Whatever that meant. Whatever toxic mindset that was. I hated it. I didn’t particularly enjoy public displays of extreme emotion, and more so I hated 
  
    public 
  
  displays of my broken self receiving help from someone I didn’t know well. 
 
  But Tobias knew me better than I knew him. Something in his parent instincts just 
  
    knew
  
  . He saw a child in need, and he opened his arms. A little girl freezing alone and he wrapped her up in a hug to keep her warm. Caitlyn got her selflessness and heart from Tobias too, that much was obvious. 
 
  And despite my disdain, my body couldn’t even begin to feel uncomfortable with just how 
  
    tired 
  
  I was. How entirely drained I’d been. I could do nothing more but lamely slump into his shoulder and let the sobs come forward. He held me tightly, rubbing my arm or back, staying quiet and letting my own trepidations take their course. Let nature flow, let it do what it’s done all its existence. 
 
  He probably thought with time I’d eventually calm down, but it was at that moment that the five years of denial finally decided to fully break. More and more kept coming to the surface, like air bubbles deep from within the ocean's murky depths. Cries started to sound more and more like words as criticisms about myself started to become more and more prominent. 
 
  “
  
    F@ck
  
  ,” I cursed, my words still partially under my breath like I was worried someone would overhear. Though we were alone on that cold London street. “I– I can’t be... believe
  
     I did this
  
  … 
  
    f@ck…!
  
  ”
 
  Tobias didn’t answer, his hands and arms keeping me still securely on the ground, almost like I’d float away and never come back given the chance.
 
  “I worked 
  
    so 
  
  hard… al–almost killed myself with it… we... went a whole year without it with f@ck@n’ 
  
    Marge
  
  –” I not-so ashamedly gasped for a breath in the middle of my sentence. “An– and I crack just because of some 
  
    girl…
  
  ”
 
  I whimpered and tried to hide from the world in Tobias’ shoulder.
 
  
    “I'm pathetic…”
  
 
  An air of hesitance washed over the man, I could sense it, but after only a few seconds of silence and careful thought did I feel him inhale to speak. 
 
  “One stumble does not ruin the marathon,” he said, firm, but gentle. “Do you know what the difference is from the past, Violet?”
 
  I didn’t answer him, but he took my pause as a response anyway and continued. 
 
  “You are 
  
    stronger 
  
  now. You’ve suffered and learned to the point where you now have the tools to fight these challenges smarter. We 
  
    all 
  
  still make mistakes, that’s just life, but each time we trip we fall a little less, right?”
 
  A long sniff disrupted the silence, and I tried to ball my fists up. Although all I did was squeeze onto Tobias’ hand harder than I meant to if I had properly recalled his hand was still there. He must’ve felt my slight nod, because I could’ve sworn a smile was on his face when he spoke his next words.
 
  “And I think you and I both know Caitlyn isn’t just 
  
    some girl
  
  … hmm, Violet?”
 
  I didn’t respond to that either, but a chuckle that wasn’t there shook his body slightly, and he rubbed my shoulder more aggressively for a second. 




  .



  February 22nd, 20xx.

  To: 
  
    [email protected]
  
   

  From: 
  
    [email protected]
  
 
  
    Ms. Lane,
  
 
  
    Imagine my surprise when my secretary told me I got an email from a new address belonging to a one Ms. Powder Lane! A pleasant surprise, I assure you. 
  

  
    I am indeed actually quite glad you decided to reach out because I have had the exact same thought. However, I believe we should push it further, and allow me to explain why. 
  

  
    You are correct to assume my daughter is getting married, later this year in fact. Caitlyn was working on her guest list just the other day and oddly enough I found Violet’s name already there, along with yours. For whatever reason, Caitlyn has 
  
  
    independently
  
  
     decided to invite you both. Now I’m aware you are rather far away, and though it may be inappropriate or unorthodox, I am very willing and prepared to pay for your travel expenses so you can attend. Since she wants you there, then I want you there. But even more, the past several months I have sensed something is wrong with Caitlyn. I can trace it to even as far back as a year ago, I believe. The fact that she had already (without my suggestion) decided to invite you both only lends credibility to my suspicions on my daughter’s… let us say, life trajectory, and her own feelings on such. I truly think it imperative that you both are there for the wedding. I have this feeling that perhaps Violet’s attendance may change something for the better in my daughter’s mind. What exactly that change may be, is various, and something I couldn’t name specifically. Only she knows for sure what she’s thinking.
  

  
    I am hesitant to meddle in my daughter’s life, but as her father, I feel it is my duty to present her with options and possible solutions. She has seemed so distressed and distant lately. Not like herself. Violet has known her so long, so that is why I think maybe she could help in some way. So, I implore you to convince Violet to come. I know I’d personally love to see you both after such a long time as well (and properly introduce myself to you, as a matter of fact).
  

  
    As I mentioned before however, I think perhaps inviting her here earlier, so they have a better chance to really talk, might be best. I was thinking I could send along an invitation to Caitlyn’s bachelorette party as well. There will be two phases. One for the parents and family friends, and then a secondary one (that Cassandra doesn’t know about, so I beg of you to keep our secret) with just Caitlyn’s girl-friends. She showed interest in a party that wasn’t so… proper. She knew I’d allow it and her mother wouldn’t, hence the secrecy. I can only send an invitation to the dinner with the family, which can be enough, but if you can somehow (nicely and politely) find your way to the second party, I encourage it. She is sure to be less guarded and more likely to talk about herself in a less stressful environment. Now, I already know Caitlyn would turn down inviting Violet to either party. Just call it a father’s intuition. But if Violet were to perhaps just show up, I can deal with the aftermath of the invitation confusion myself and take full responsibility. I truly just want Caitlyn to connect with someone from her past again, as I think that could really help her with this funk she’s going through. 
  

  
    She hasn’t talked with me about it, nor my wife as far as I know. But I can see it in her eyes. Something is wrong, and I feel so strongly that I need to help her. Merely I want to offer her my hand and allow her to decide whether she wants to take it or not. I
  
  
     do not 
  
  
    want to upset her or force anything down her throat.
  

  
    I thank you again for reaching out, and I thank the universe for bringing a likeminded person my way. I was doubtful as to whether or not I should do something at all. But this rather seems like fate, no?
  

  
    I check this email only within my posted business hours, which is rather frequently. You are right to assume I enjoy an email over a text message, but I shall save your number should I need to reach you more readily. 
  
 
  
    Sincerely,
  

  
    Tobias Kiramman. 
  




  .





  Next thing I knew I was stumbling back into my hotel room, arm slung over Tobias’ shoulders and my hair hanging over my downturned face. I couldn’t stand to look him or anyone in the eye. Mine had almost swollen shut, fresh tear after tear spilling over my waterline. I couldn’t stop it. Five years of emotion had built up, and now the floodgates were open. Any amount of crying up until this point couldn’t have prepared me for this; it pales in comparison. I hardly skimmed off the top of the pile when it came to what I needed to let out and let float away into the open air. 
 
  When I knew we had made it back into the safety of the relative privacy in our hotel room, I just crumbled. My feet stopped working, knowing I could finally rest and allow myself to fall apart completely. The booze destroyed any shame or embarrassment I would’ve held onto so desperately, so tightly. I couldn’t even remember what those feelings were, what they felt like, what they did to me. The ceiling spun, and all I could hear was a medley of Tobias’ and my sister’s voices, mixed in with my desperate cries. 
 
  
    “Vi, Vi– we need to get you up– hey, hey it’s okay– I’m here–” 
  
 
  Powder’s voice rang in my ears the loudest as I felt her try to sit me up from my position on the floor. The scratchy carpet felt comfortable against my back, the solid ground a necessity in this out-of-control whirlwind I was experiencing. I coughed, almost choked on my own spit in trying to talk, squeezing two different hands that again, were continuously trying to coax me up. But I couldn’t register that. Gibberish flooded out of my mouth along with the bile quickly making its way up my throat. It was that familiar burn crawling up my neck that made me arch my back and turn myself over onto my stomach, much to the reluctance of those grounding hands holding mine. But they had gone somewhere, I didn’t know where, because I slapped my own hands down onto that burly carpet and attempted to stumble upwards and towards the bathroom not twenty feet away. 
 
  Almost immediately I fell back onto my knees, and hands were on me again, under my arms and pulling me forward before I could yak all over myself and this undoubtedly expensive flooring. Porcelain met my face as my exhausted body slumped over the bowl, and for the second time that night, I threw up my whole stomach. 
 
  Powder carefully brushed my bangs from my sweaty forehead, and two sets of hands rubbed my back. Two sets of voices calmed me as I continued to sob into the gross water below. I spat and sniffed, and threw up a third time. Powder flushed for me, seeing as I didn’t have the sense to do so myself. 
 
  Tobias got up from our collective pile on the tiled floor, and I heard water running somewhere in the distance behind me. 
 
  
    “Wha– why– what–wha–ah–”
  
   I bawled like a little kid who had just dropped their ice cream cone. A pure innocent sadness, unfortunately discovering one of the many disappointments of the real world. 
 
  I wasn’t speaking real words.
 
  
    “Shh,” 
  
  Powder tried to shush me, tried to relax me as my chest heaved in a desperate attempt to get air. 
  
    “It’s okay.”
  
 
  Finally, I could lift my head, those words triggering the strength. I squinted at my sister in the fluorescent lights, my face surely red and puffy, and I could hardly see through the warbling of my vision. I saw her long hair in a tangled mess, released from her braids. I saw her in that same red shirt she had just put on hours before for bed. I saw her worried eyes, ones she inherited from our mother, and ones I had received plenty of times growing up. From holding my hair back, Powder ran her hand to hold my face, chin trembling, mouth weakly open with useless words. 
 
  
    “Is… it’s not… i-its no-oh-oh-ah-t…”
  
   My voice couldn’t remain steady, mewls of pure despair interrupting every other word.
 
  It was a 
  
    full. blown. meltdown.
  
   So dramatic, but Powder would also tell me later, 
  
    so undeniably real. 
  
 
  She didn’t have an answer for me, instead she remained silent and let me fall into her lap, where she could look down on me and brush my hair from my face again. My hand went to grasp her knee as the rest of my body went prone, and I was nothing more than a ragdoll. I didn’t feel I could move even if I wanted to. 
 
  
    “Violet.”
  
 
  The kind voice of a kind man, Tobias, cut through the fray, as my eyes cleared only slightly and looked up.
 
  He knelt to me and took my other free hand briefly.
 
  
    “I am here. Your sister is here. You can push through this.”
  
 
  He handed something to my sister, but I wasn’t sure what it was until I felt something wet and heavy come into contact with my forehead. A washcloth, in cool water, and she wiped it gently over and over again to clean away the sweat. It was soothing, a welcome pressure, and something that aided in the oncoming headache that was to follow this night of drinking, but was already starting to surface. It helped. Tobias’ soft words of encouragement, his genuine belief in me, his confession earlier that night, it welled up only further tears, and I had to close my eyes. I sniffled, and took a shuddering breath in, then out. 
 
  
    “Why…?”
  
   I managed to whine out. 
  
    “Why… why didn…”
  
 
  
    “Shhh, Vi, try to sleep,”
  
   Powder cooed.
 
  
    “Why didn’t she– she tell… me?”
  
 
  Neither one could conjure a reply.
 
  
    “Why d-did she… leave me?”
  
 
  Again, no response.
 
  
    “Why… why doesn’t she… love me anymore…?”
  



  No one seemed to be able to answer my cries.
 
  .




  February 24th, 20xx.

  To:
  
    [email protected]
  

  From: 
  
    [email protected]
  
   
 
  
    Hiya! Oh my god you actually responded, that’s so cool. I knew you were a chill dude. You can just call me Powder btw. Ms. Lane gives me the ick. Way too proper for the type of person I am lol. And don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me!
  

  
    Caitlyn’s not been doing well huh? With what? I’m gonna assume it has to do with her relationship with little miss redhead copycat (what's her name again?) am I right? You think she’s getting cold feet or something? That may make things interesting for Vi… and honestly that would put on a real entertaining show for me. I've always loved watching my sister squirm with embarrassment. She's usually so suave but something about Cait just makes her brain stop working. It’s hilarious. 
  

  
    I’m confident I can get Vi to the wedding but convincing her to go to the party… that's a challenge. Vi is almost as stubborn as Caitlyn, which is a real pain in the ass. But I enjoy a challenge tbh and I truly am an expert at annoying my sister into doing things she doesn't want to by now. I can get her there. Go ahead and send the party invite and I'll guarantee we make it. And please pick on her if you can. Find a way to seat her next to Caitlyn or something. The more tension the better. It really forces Vi to face things which helps push her in the direction of finally f@ck@n doing something about all this bs she has in her head.
  

  
    You’re a pretty cool dad for wanting to look out for your kid like this. Almost warms my heart <3 Worst that can happen is she'll get p@ss@d and yell at you. Or call off the wedding and run away. Or something. Not so bad, yeah? Either way, I think those two idiots have a sh@t ton of unfinished business that could definitely benefit from a forced sit down. They’ve been away from each other too long though, the window to reach out has totally closed. Plus, again, Vi, denial. 
  

  
    I’ll keep a closer eye on my emails from now on, but I’ll also be sure to look out for a text too.
  
 
  
    Till next time, Sir Kiramman.
  

  
    Powder
  
 
  .



  They must’ve thought I was asleep.
 
  But I wasn’t.
 
  Well, I 
  
    was.
  
   But something stirred in me after a while, and when I cracked an eye open, I found myself tucked nice and warm into one of the two large, hotel beds. The comforters were as soft and heavy as they looked, making me think maybe that’s how it got its name. It was 
  
    comforting.
  
   The blackout curtains were drawn, so I couldn’t tell how long I had been asleep. Merely, I laid there still for a bit, until I heard them start to speak. Two voices. Voices that I could barely recall shushing and supporting me not hours earlier. My back was to them, and I remained still, listening.
 
  “Thanks for your help, really,” my sister's voice sounded uncharacteristically grateful. “I’m sorry she was such a pain in the ass.”
 
  “Not at all.” Tobias confirmed he was still there by responding. “I’m glad to have helped.”
 
  “Yeah, well, then… you’re a saint.”
 
  He chuckled lightly, and I heard some footsteps as they moved about the room. There was a pause, a tension, a hesitance in the air.
 
  “Do…” Powder started. “Do you think… she’ll be okay with going still? To the wedding?”
 
  “Only 
  
    you 
  
  know her so well, Powder.”
 
  One of them inhaled sharply, like they desperately needed a breath after all the commotion I caused. I surely drained them of all their energy, and I thanked whatever god was listening that I had people in my life willing to put up with my b@llsh@t. 
 
  
    “Right…” 
  
  she sighed. 
 
  Ruffling of a coat, and I assumed it was Tobias getting ready to leave.
 
  “If you need anything else, don’t hesitate to call, okay?” he said. “Though… you’ve changed my tune about instant messaging... I can see the appeal now.”
 
  “I’m influential like that,” my sister had a smile on her face. I could tell by her tone. “And I gotta admit, your formal texting is hilarious. But in like, an endearing way.”
 
  Another soft chuckle. More footsteps, then the opening of the door.
 
  “Thank you, Powder. But I’ll get out of your hair now. I hope to see you both later, hm?”
 
  “Fingers crossed,” Powder lightly laughed, nothing more than a puff of air cascading forth. 
 
  
    What the 
  
  
    f@ck 
  
  
    were they talking about, texting? Since when did 
  
  
    he 
  
  
    have Powder’s number? Since when did she have his? Are they communicating? About 
  
  
    what
  
  
    ? What on Earth do they have to talk about? They have almost 
  
  
    nothing 
  
  
    in common. What f@ck@ng 
  
  
    scheme 
  
  
    are they cooking up? What are they planning? How long? Why? 
  
 
  
    Why?
  
 
  
    Why?
  
 
  
    Why?
  



  .




  February 27th, 20xx.

  To: 
  
    [email protected]
  
   

  From: 
  
    [email protected]
  
 
  
    Ms. Powder,
  
 
  
    Apologies for my late reply, I think I really should take advantage of the easy access of my cell phone from now on. I simply wanted to send you a message confirming that I have successfully sent the bachelorette party invites and travel accommodations your way. I sent them to the same address Caitlyn used for the wedding invitations. I hope you haven’t moved, but Caitlyn seemed adamant in knowing the proper address. (Caitlyn’s fiancée’s name is Victoria, to answer your question.)
  

  
    I am happy to hear about your confidence in your ability to have Violet come. I agree with you in the sense that I believe closure is needed for the both of them, and their opportunity only shrunk as time went by. I worry that if they had no interference from someone else in their lives, they perhaps would never meet again. I can recall how close they seemed at one point, and it seems sad to think that something that special can just disappear one day. But I will not get sentimental. I shall update you on anything, if necessary, and I trust that you will do the same.
  
 
  
    Sincerely,
  

  
    Tobias Kiramman. 
  





  .



  
    “...et up! Vi! Get up! You lazy ass–”
  
 
  Powder was yelling at me.
 
  
    Huh, what else is new?
  
 
  But this time she was hassling me to get up, shaking me on the shoulder like a kid would their parents on Christmas morning. Though she was quite a bit more violent. When I didn’t move, stubborn and exhausted, she slapped my shoulder, eliciting a yelp.
 
  
    “Ow!”
  
 
  “Get! Up!” she shouted, directly in my ear. 
 
  That made them ring and forced what felt like a large knife into the center of my head. My eyes squinted at the light, the curtains no longer drawn to cover the window, which was now flooding the room with morning sun. It twisted the knife in my forehead, making the headache worse, and I groaned before trying to burrow under the covers.
 
  
    “Oh, 
  
  absolutely
  
     not!”
  
   my sister protested, naturally, and she got up for a moment to sn@tch the entire comforter off the bed. 
  
    “Up!
  
   We’re going to be late!”
 
  
    “Late…?”
  
   I grumbled, clearly having a hard time relearning what a hangover is.
 
  
    “Yes!”
  
   Powder was clearly over me, getting more and more irritated with each thing I did to slow down the morning. This included me attempting to hide under the pillows that she quickly scattered on the floor, leaving me completely exposed to the elements on the naked mattress. “Now get your ass 
  
    up 
  
  and in the shower! You look like a f@ck@n’ mess.” 
 
  It was then it clicked, my memory of the previous night, and even where I was 
  
    completely,
  
   foggy but flooding my brain in that split second. 
 
  
    I was an idiot. 
  
 
  
    “Sh@t.” 
  
 
  I whispered that word to myself as I realized, and I finally jolted up from the bed. The knife in my head protested, along with my empty and whining stomach, and aching eyes. I tried to shut them up with pure will alone, which I knew could work for only so long. But it would have to do. Speeding through my shower, I still made sure to 
  
    thoroughly 
  
  clean 
  
    all 
  
  of me. It was like last night left a film of filth all over me, and it made me want to crawl out of my own skin. 
 
  That or I spilled booze on myself, which I 
  
    definitely 
  
  did. 
 
  I dried my hair, attempted to style it, brushed my teeth, threw on a typical face of makeup (a little eyeshadow, some mascara, and lip balm) to make me not look so… 
  
    dead.
  
   I had added a bit of concealer under the eyes, which I don’t normally do, but the rings under my peepers were a bit too telling of the night before. I noticed my eyes were still swollen, and with that little bit of makeup skill I had, I really tried my best to hide it without looking ridiculous. 
 
  Then I threw myself out of the bathroom, going straight to the closet for my suit. However, I saw my sister sitting on one of the beds still. Hair not done, red cotton tee shirt still on, what appeared to be a 
  
    scone 
  
  in her hand (leaving crumbs on her face as she chewed), and her phone in the other. She was mindlessly scrolling, and I watched her, confused, as she finished her snack and chuckled at something she came across on the world wide web.
 
  “What’re you doing?” I choked out in an almost offended tone. I could ask where she got the scone later.
 
  “What?” she looked up, rubbing her face to clean the crumbs but missing them entirely.
 
  “Why aren’t you dressed?” I clarified. “We’re gonna be late, 
  
    remember?”
  
 
  “Nah!” Powder waved her hand at me, nonchalantly flopping back onto the bed, hands behind her head. “We won’t be late, don’t worry, sis.”
 
  
    “Nah–?”
  
   I was definitely offended now. “What do you mean,
  
     nah–?”
  
 
  A beat of silence for dramatic effect.
 
  
    “Cause,”
  
   she 
  
    smiled.
  
   “Wedding isn’t until two.”
 
  I knew that smile. It was an evil one. A conniving smile, one that said,
  
     ‘ha ha I tricked you!’ 
  
  and one that I had memorized. I stared at that smile for a moment, frozen as her words sunk in. My eyes trailed over to the digital clock on the nightstand sitting between the two queens. Reading it, I swear I almost had a stroke.
 
  
    10:13 AM.
  
 
  Normally I’d be screaming, going to tackle my sister in revenge with a slew of insults equipped and ready to go. 
  
    However
  
  , 
  with one simple word, I was suddenly fully reminded what on Earth I was rushing to get to.
 
  
    A wedding.
  
 
  It depressed my resolve, and it blocked the usual anger I’d be spewing all over the place. Because 
  
    that’s right. That’s why we're here. Caitlyn’s wedding. To watch Caitlyn get married. Get married to a woman named Victoria.
  
 
  
    Victoria. 
  
 
  
    …
  
 
  
    Sounds an awful lot like Violet. 
  
 
  “I 
  
    hate 
  
  you,” I growled, then dragged my feet across the floor to pick up the discarded comforter.
 
  “No you don’t.” Powder laughed openly at me.
 
  
    “Death.
  
   And it’s going to be painful.”
 
  Defeated, I crawled back into my own bed, grumbling the whole way. It was 
  
    just 
  
  like my little sister to pull something like that on me. I wasn’t even notorious for being late, she was just 
  
    mean.
  
   So with total disregard to the makeup I 
  
    just 
  
  put on and my hair I 
  
    just 
  
  tried to style, I got cozy again under the covers, pulling the large, heavy comforter along with me.
 
  
    “Oooh no
  
   you don’t!” my sister screeched, and I felt her jump into the bed with me and tug at the protection I had wrapped around me. “You don’t get to go back asleep! We 
  
    have 
  
  to talk.”
 
  “I’d really rather not, Pow…” my voice was muffled, but she just scoffed, not lightening up for even a second.
 
  “And I’d really rather not pay taxes, 
  
    but 
  
  sometimes avoidance isn’t always the answer, moron.” She slapped me again, not as hard as last time, on the arm. It was softened too by the blanket, so I honestly hardly felt it. But I knew she wasn’t going to let this go.
 
  I turned over onto my back so I could look up at my sister's face, which seemed to get her attention, and she calmed, settling to simply sit and stare back at me. She was pouting slightly, but had a genuine look of concern in her expression that looked all too familiar to me. After a beat or two of quiet, I sighed a large sigh, then reached up to hold one side of Powder’s face.
 
  “Thanks for always looking out for me, Pow.”
 
  She nuzzled into my hand a little bit before I let it fall, and she let out a sigh of her own. Powder glanced around me, not really looking at me as she thought. But eventually she spoke.
 
  “Yeah, well, I know you’d do the same.”
 
  A small smile crept up onto my face. I couldn’t help it. And I also couldn’t help the way I reached out quickly to pinch at her side. I wanted to avoid sincere emotions, and I was going to use humor as my shield.
 
  “D@mn
  
     straight,”
  
   I grinned, and she squealed, swatting my hand away. 
 
  
    “Don’t!”
  
   she whined.
 
  “Then 
  
    maybe 
  
  you shouldn’t have given me a heart attack this morning,” I countered, pinching her a second, but final time. Another swat, another squeal. 
 
  We laughed together for a moment in the early morning sun, where we eventually sat calmer to watch the dust in the air float around before disappearing somewhere. Silence fell over us again as we just thought. But then Powder started to fidget, and that created the tension only the moment before a hard-to-ask question could create. I already knew what she was going to say. I had been asking myself this question the entire time, but I readied myself to hear it from her instead.
 
  “Do you think… you can go today?”
 
  
    And honestly?
  
 
  
    I wasn’t sure. 
  
 
  But I knew I couldn’t miss it.
 
  I really didn’t want to be sitting here, watching the clock, wondering when it was all happening. Wondering if this was the exact time my truly undeniable love for an untouchable woman would kill me. Because it’s been made clear at this point, crystal 
  
    f@ck@ng 
  
  clear.
 
  I’m madly, still, 
  
    so madly
  
   in love with Caitlyn Kiramman.

  
  

    
      
        
        
          d@mn thats so tuffim yet to throw up from booze which is a f@ck@n miracle but i /have/ sobbed on the bathroom floor beforeisnt life great'
User: Summarize the chapter based on the content provided, ensuring to follow the set format and emphasize key aspects within the specified length.
User: Summarize the chapter based on the content provided, ensuring to follow the set format and emphasize key aspects within the specified length.
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