2019, March 4th

Zoey tossed and turned in her bed. Bart had retired to his room for the night, leaving Zoey alone to watch the clock count down.

In 20 minutes, James' deadline would be up. She went through her phone, which Bart had returned to her after much debate and warning, and groaned. The missed calls from Aaron were racking up. Her inbox was full. Zoey's mom had called and left a few messages too. How would she tell her mom what had happened?

That was a problem for tomorrow. Tonight, she had bigger fish to fry. She texted her mom to let her know that she was okay and that she would call in the morning. 15 minutes left. It would take at least 10 to get to the place where she had met the duke/prince earlier that night.

It was bizarre. Less so that Duke Beaumont turned out to be a prince. More so that Zoey would have married Aaron at the end of the month without even knowing he had a brother. What else would fall through the cracks about Aaron that his fiancée didn't know?

Zoey quietly crawled out of bed. Fortune smiled upon her. Bart had left the car keys on the kitchen table of the pretty little cottage. She grabbed them, tiptoed out the front door and made her way to the black SUV parked out front on the street.

"Sorry Bart," she said as she started the car, "but I need some answers."

She hunched her shoulders, praying that the noise of the engine would not wake Bart up.

James was parked on the side of the road where he had cut Bart off two hours ago. He looked back at the suitcase in the backseat. Why wasn't he already headed to the airport?

It was a ridiculous notion, marrying someone who proposed to you in the middle of the road in a fit of rage. Coming back here was a mistake.

The engine of his black Mercedes roared to life just as a black SUV pulled up. This time Zoey cut him off.

"Hi" was all she could manage.

There was a look of expectation on her face. Surely she wasn't here to agree to his obscene proposal.

"Get in," he said, unlocking the doors of the car.

Zoey hesitated before sliding out of the driver's seat and pocketing the keys of the SUV. She locked the doors before getting into James' car.

"Why are you here?" he asked, looking out the window.

"You don't waste any time," she muttered, staring at the side of his face.

The full weight of James' looks struck her. Finally, she understood why he felt so familiar. His cheekbones, that strong jawline, the shape of his eyes and the way his lips came together. They were so different in nature that it was easy to miss the marked resemblance. These men were the kind of handsome that would make a girl lose her wits just by laying eyes on them.

"Are you going to answer the question or are you going to stare at me all night?"

Startled, she looked away. The blush on her cheeks earned her the smallest of smiles. He was more subtle than she was, stealing glimpses of her pretty face framed by messy golden curls.

She seemed too nervous for words, so James tried again.

"Emily Maine."

This got her attention.

"Excuse me?"

"The woman in the photo. Her name is Emily Maine. She's our childhood friend. We did everything together, the three of us. It's a bit cliche, but we both liked her. She's kind of the one that got away for him."

Back to the silence. Zoey's tongue felt frozen. His robotic demeanour gave her chills.

Losing patience, James gave up on words and started the car. Zoey's face scrunched up in a panic.

"Relax," he said, reversing away from the SUV. "I'm not dragging you to the altar or anything."

Five minutes later, he pulled up to a skyscraper. Above the glass double doors in bold cursive letters stood the words Eleganter Ludo. Zoey was wearing an old sweatshirt and jeans without so much as eyeliner on. Her blonde curls were shooting off in every direction. Complete with a doorman, this hotel was not for someone who looked like she had tumbled out of a laundry basket.

James got out of the car. The drive had not calmed her in the least. He went over to her side of the car, opened the door and held out a hand to her. She took it, her own somewhat shaky.

"Let's have a drink," he said, as he pulled an old cap over her head.

A drink? Who comes to a place like this to have a drink? Three months into living with nobles and Zoey still felt out of place.

Looking around, James took off his jacket and pulled it over her shoulders. His cheek grazed hers as he adjusted it. He was so close that she could smell the scent of damp earth after rain and something else. Something so unique to him that she struggled to name it.

The voids of blackness that were his eyes caught the light and she could not help but stare. Looking into his eyes was like seeing the heart of nature on a refreshing summer day.

James caught the look in her eyes. He felt her shoulders relax under his hands as she looked at his face up close. It surprised him that this gallant woman was the same one he had been sitting next to a minute ago. Curious to know how long she would last, he looked away as her eyes probed his face.

They took turns, stealing glimpses at each other until their eyes met. The feeling of familiarity settled between them again. Whatever this back and forth was, it felt inappropriate. James pulled away.

He gestured to the jacket and cap.

"It's so people don't recognize you," he said, walking ahead of her.

As soon as James moved away, Aaron's name popped into Zoey's mind and everything came flooding back. The photograph. Aaron's betrayal. Bart rushing her out of the house like some thief in the night. The soul-crushing pain and buckets of tears that followed.

James looked back to find Zoey had not moved. She was staring down at her feet, fresh tears streaking her cheeks. With a sigh, he walked back to her and held out his arm. She gripped his arm tighter than he would have liked, but at least they were moving again.

Zoey was escorted up to the penthouse suite with instructions to change. James had invited her to dinner.

Everything about the suite announced that you were not at home. From the mints on the pillow to the silk sheets, everything was premium. The bathtub was big enough to seat a dozen people comfortably. The cream carpet was soft and thick and the couch hugged you as you sank into the cushions. Even the warm shades of pastel green seemed to draw you in.

After taking in the room, Zoey slipped into the dress selected for her by James. He'd paired a rose-red dress with red stilettos that complemented her natural beauty. She drew a quick brush through her hair and hoped the natural curl look would not fail her.

Zoey found herself questioning her choice to come here tonight. What Aaron did was wrong, but this wasn't right either. The notion both excited and alarmed her.

The restaurants on her dates with Aaron were usually empty, giving it a much more intimate feel. Still, here she was, about to have dinner with a man who wanted to marry her. Said man was Aaron's brother, who was technically still her fiance.

Zoey's eyes darted around nervously as she entered the restaurant.

James took her in as Zoey was shown to their table. He saw her in ball gowns and at CC's show, done up more prettily than a princess. His eyes never lingered too long on her though, as they always sought out another. Tonight he didn't have this feeble excuse for not looking.

He took in every curve the dress draped. Her long eyelashes drew you to her big, hazel-brown eyes. Her lips shimmered as she licked them nervously. The Cascades of blonde curls flowed down her shoulders, giving her a lazy day look. Stripped of the usual adornments, she was still beautiful.

She took the seat across from him and turned her nervousness into a smile.

"Sorry I'm such a mess, I didn't think it through when I left," she said, biting her lip.

He swallowed a chuckle. They had very different thoughts about her appearance.

"You look lovely, Lady Zoey," he flattered.

She frowned in disbelief, then corrected herself and pasted a smile on her face. This time he did laugh. It was a short one, but it slipped out. Her eyes warmed to the sound of his laughter. She returned it with a more genuine smile.

"Good evening, Your Grace. My Lady. Would My Lady like something to drink?" the waiter asked, stepping forward.

"A glass of red wine, please," she answered.

"No," James retorted.

"Weren't you the one that wanted to have a drink?"

James was starting to lose patience with himself. Never had he hesitated so much in his life as he had tonight, because of this woman.

"I changed my mind," he said, picking up a menu.

She glanced at the double shot of whiskey to the right of his hand and muttered, "Obviously."

"How about some dinner?" James offered, refusing to acknowledge her sarcasm.

"Already ate," she said tightly.

"Dessert then," he persisted.

"Oh, ice cream!" she said, hyped up like a little child as she sat upright.

She corrected again and pursed her lips into a thin line.

James' eyes sparkled in amusement.

He turned to the waiter and said, "The lady will have some of all the ice cream flavours that you have available."

Her eyes widened.

"James," she began.

She blew up her cheeks and corrected again.

"Your Grace, that's not-"

"James is fine."

Then he turned to the waiter again, who bowed and said, "Right away, Your Grace."

She sank back into her seat and let out a sigh, uncertain she should trust herself to speak anymore. Where was her weariness of the man with nothing in his eyes? Better still, where was that man?

She looked him over. The darkness in his eyes was gone, but the warmth in them that replaced it now was worse. What was she doing, playing pretend like everything hadn't come crashing down? She needed to ask her questions and be on her way before Bart discovered she was gone.

A few minutes later, half a dozen waiters laid the ice cream out on their table. Her eyes turned into saucers as she lost count of the bowls. They were neatly packed next to each other. Each contained two perfect scoops of ice cream.

"Dig in," he said, picking up a spoon.

"Do you think they're in love?" Zoey asked.

James' spoon hovered over a bowl of Black Walnut. He snickered.

"Yesterday I was getting my royal attire fitted for the wedding. Yesterday I knew the answer to your question. Today, your guess is as good as mine." He spat the words out and shoved the ice cream into his mouth. "You don't need to worry about any of this. Tell Bart you want to go home and have a good, normal life."

Zoey wasn't satisfied. She wanted a real answer. It dawned on her that she was sitting down with the wrong man, for fear of sitting down with the right one.

"Are you unproposing right now?" she asked, blocking his spoon with her own as he headed for a new bowl of ice cream.

It was Fudge Ripple. Zoey wanted that Fudge Ripple all to herself.

"It was a crazy idea, likely born from the insanity that follows a broken heart," James answered with a shrug.

"What if I wanted to stay and marry him anyway?"

Zoey was getting desperate now as the heavy feeling returned to her chest. The more questions she asked, the worse it got. Yet, she couldn't help herself.

He ran his fingers through his hair and looked straight into her tear-filled eyes.

"Believe me, I've been where you are. It will never be just you and him. There will always be her."

Zoey didn't like this answer. The heaviness on her chest was now all-consuming. Who was he to say that? How could he know that for sure? Next came the loneliness. He was Aaron's brother, that's who. That's how. She gripped her spoon with gusto and shuffled the ice cream down her throat. All he could do was watch her fall apart right in front of him.

One hour later, the pair found themselves on Height of Caines, a popular spot on a mountain where kids went to park. From Height of Caines you could see the entire city lit up in all its glory. James wasn't sure why he had let her bring him here. She was hitting the whiskey pretty hard and it was clear she did not hold her liquor well.

"Damn thish sffut is bittrer," she slurred.

He unfolded his arms and went to take the bottle from her.

"No!" she yelled, ducking and dodging him.

"It's time to go home Zoey," he said, watching her with glazed-over eyes.

He put his arm around her, restrained both her arms and took the bottle from her easily.

"He proposed right here! He said, 'Zoey, marry me already!'" she yelled out into the night.

James thought back to Emily's smile when he went down on one knee. He felt so content when she said yes. Dismay clouded his judgement. The whiskey in his hand was smooth, rich, would burn in the right way and was very expensive. He took a swig.

A few mouthfuls of whiskey ago his eyes were open. But that couldn't be, because the sun was already high up in the sky. The suite was completely trashed like he'd hosted a bachelor party. James' head weighed a ton.

He let out a groan as he bent down to pick up his shirt. About halfway down, he spotted the dress Zoey wore last night. It stopped him dead in his tracks.

"Shit," he said, letting out a groan as he searched the suite.

She was nowhere to be found. He pulled on his clothes and ran to the elevator barefoot. As he watched the elevator count down from 40, he scanned his phone.

He had missed calls from a million people, including both of his parents and Aaron. He skimmed through his text messages. They didn't make any sense.

Aaron wanted to rip his head off. What the hell was he angry about? James should be the one who was blowing up his phone with angry texts.

King Henry demanded to see James as soon as the former could send a car. Why would Henry need to send a car? He didn't send a car for James once since he got back to Caines three months ago.

His mother's texts were the most bewildering.

Who is she?

I thought you were marrying into the family of Maine.

Did your father make you do this?

Like a puzzle piece that refused to fit had finally fallen into place, in a matter of seconds he remembered. Not the whole of it, but enough to understand.

"Oh fuck!" he cursed.

James dashed from the elevator as soon as the doors opened. He sped past reception. Then went straight towards the blinding flashes and reporters that surrounded her.

Zoey choked. She was like a lost lamb being brought to the slaughter. He went for her without thinking.

Her eyes were darting around as she tried to figure out what to do. He pulled her against his chest and draped his jacket over her head and shoulders.

Duke Beaumont, what is the nature of your relationship with Lady Zoey?

Lady Zoey, what about your engagement to the crown prince?

Are you the bastard son of the king?

Is this relationship an attempt to replace Prince Aaron as crown prince?

On and on the questions flowed.

Zoey's head was spinning. James' experience with the press served him well. He acted quickly and dragged her back inside, shutting the door before the press could enter. The manager of the hotel rushed up to them as hotel staff and security scurried to keep the press out.

"My apologies, Your Grace! They came out of nowhere. Rest assured that we will find that leak and-"

James vaguely heard the words the manager said to him. Everything around him was a faraway dream. The woman in his arms staining his shirt with tears was the only thing that was real.

"Just get them out of here!" he ordered, cutting the manager off as he rushed Zoey into an elevator.

"Of course, Your Grace!"

The manager hurried off through the crowd of guests that had gathered to see what was going on.

When the doors of the elevator closed, James withdrew the jacket from her shoulders. She was breathing heavily, but at least the crying had stopped. Steadying herself, she turned to him. Grabbed his left wrist and lifted her left hand to show him the matching wedding bands.

"What on earth happened last night!"

She was nowhere to be found. He pulled on his clothes and ran to the elevator barefoot. As he watched the elevator count down from 40, he scanned his phone.

He had missed calls from a million people, including both of his parents and Aaron. He skimmed through his text messages. They didn't make any sense.

Aaron wanted to rip his head off. What the hell was he angry about? James should be the one who was blowing up his phone with angry texts.

King Henry demanded to see James as soon as the former could send a car. Why would Henry need to send a car? He didn't send a car for James once since he got back to Caines three months ago.

His mother's texts were the most bewildering.

Who is she?

I thought you were marrying into the family of Maine.

Did your father make you do this?

Like a puzzle piece that refused to fit had finally fallen into place, in a matter of seconds he remembered. Not the whole of it, but enough to understand.

"Oh fuck!" he cursed.

James dashed from the elevator as soon as the doors opened. He sped past reception. Then went straight towards the blinding flashes and reporters that surrounded her.

Zoey choked. She was like a lost lamb being brought to the slaughter. He went for her without thinking.

Her eyes were darting around as she tried to figure out what to do. He pulled her against his chest and draped his jacket over her head and shoulders.

Duke Beaumont, what is the nature of your relationship with Lady Zoey?

Lady Zoey, what about your engagement to the crown prince?

Are you the bastard son of the king?

Is this relationship an attempt to replace Prince Aaron as crown prince?

On and on the questions flowed.

Zoey's head was spinning. James' experience with the press served him well. He acted quickly and dragged her back inside, shutting the door before the press could enter. The manager of the hotel rushed up to them as hotel staff and security scurried to keep the press out.

"My apologies, Your Grace! They came out of nowhere. Rest assured that we will find that leak and-"

James vaguely heard the words the manager said to him. Everything around him was a faraway dream. The woman in his arms staining his shirt with tears was the only thing that was real.

"Just get them out of here!" he ordered, cutting the manager off as he rushed Zoey into an elevator.

"Of course, Your Grace!"

The manager hurried off through the crowd of guests that had gathered to see what was going on.

When the doors of the elevator closed, James withdrew the jacket from her shoulders. She was breathing heavily, but at least the crying had stopped. Steadying herself, she turned to him. Grabbed his left wrist and lifted her left hand to show him the matching wedding bands.

"What on earth happened last night!"

2018, December 4th

Five minutes before sunset, Aaron set Zoey down in front of the Arden residence.

Aaron had Zoey pegged at first sight. Naive and innocent to a fault, she would have a difficult time as a royal. He liked her all the same. Envied the way she did things for no one but her and spoke her mind. He spent his life pretending about so many things. It was refreshing to know there was another way to live. In another life, he might have been more open-minded about the engagement.

"One Lady Zoey Arden home on time," he said, pulling some leaves out of her hair.

He locked his hands behind his back, in case he misbehaved, before he asked, "Lunch tomorrow?"

Zoey weighed her options. The idea of getting into another argument with George was unappealing. Besides, meeting Prince Aaron made Zoey curious about how other people lived. Her whole world was books. Over the years, with her and mom always jetting off somewhere, she learned to accept that it was safer. People left. Books stayed.

"Take me with you, where you're going.”

She was feeling bold. Tempted by his flirtatious charm. Aaron had that impact on women. He made them want to make choices they would later regret. He took a step forward, analysing her face. Intrigued and pleased by this change, he baited her.

"Bart would have a cow if I took you to Fortunae and His Grace would not be too pleased either."

"You aren't afraid of my little brother, are you Your Highness?"

He chuckled. They did need to talk and tomorrow was so far away. Aaron pressed on in an attempt to gauge if she was serious about going with him.

"You aren't playing very fair you know."

"You don't look like the type to turn away a pretty face."

This time Zoey took a step forward, closing the distance between them.

"Am I not pretty enough to bring the rebel out in you twice in one day, Your Highness?"

Somehow she'd turned things around on him and was now goading him. Aaron couldn't take his eyes off her. The more she did it, the more he wanted to whisk her away.

Realising in the nick of time that they were about to be spotted by a pair of guards, his arm slid around her waist. He pulled into the shadows. Luckily Jesse knew better than to park in a visible place, so they were safe on that front.

She gasped. He pressed a finger to her lips and winked.

When the guards had passed, he whispered, "You're quite the rebel yourself, Lady Zoey. I'm impressed."

Zoey looked up at him in that innocent way that made it clear a man had never held her before him. Zoey tried to push Aaron away. He held on tighter.

"Are you sure you want to go with me? Fortunae may not be exactly... to your taste."

Excitement played across her face as she answered, "Yes."

Making sure that they weren't seen by any guards on patrol, he took her by the hand and they made a run for the car.

"Out," he told Jesse.

Jesse looked back and forth between the youths.

"Your Highness! Reconsider, please," he begged.

Aaron opened the door and waited. Reluctant, Jessed stepped out.

"Call CC. Tell her I'm calling in a favour. She needs to make a detour at the Arden house," Aaron ordered, jumping into the driver's seat.

By the time Jesse had closed Zoey's door for her, she was back to being anxious. She remembered how it had been at university. People asked her on outings often. When it was study groups or pizza at a diner, she was okay, but the bigger the crowd got, the poorer Zoey fared.

"Still want to do this, princess?" Aaron asked, starting the car.

"Yeah."

"Then let's bounce."

The alleyway they stopped in smelled like alcohol and cigarettes. Of all the places Aaron could have brought her, a club was sure to stress her out the most.

Aaron saw her anxiety start to increase. He jumped out of his seat, went over to her door and opened it.

Holding out a hand to her, he said, "Relax. I'll be with you the whole time, okay? Let's have some fun tonight."

Zoey took another deep breath before placing her hand in his.

Meanwhile, back at the Arden mansion, things were getting heated.

"Aaron, that irresponsible child. Bartholomew, you said you would have them back here by now! Where are they?" Duke Arden raged.

"I hardly think Aaron would have held a gun to her head. If she is with him, well it takes two!" King Henry thundered back.

"Darling, do calm down. Stress isn't good for your health," said Duchess Arden, holding onto her husband's arm in concern.

"Unhand me. My health is fine. I survive listening to you every day."

"Bartholomew, is there any word about dispatching The King's Guard to find them?" Queen Mary asked.

"Not yet, Your Majesty. I will find out what the hold-up is."

The hold-up had been Bartholomew himself. He hoped Aaron would be sensible and have Zoey back by now, but it was an hour after sunset and there was no sign of them.

Bart stepped outside to consider his options. Aaron had to bring Zoey home now or the engagement that she hadn't agreed to would never happen at all.

"Why so tense, Bart?" a voice asked.

Bart became alert. Who was this intruder?

"Calm down, I come in peace," she said, appearing before him.

Bart took her in. She wore a sparkling, baby blue wrap dress. His eyes lingered on the sash a moment too long, before rising to her face.

"CC," he said with relief.

"In the flesh," she cooed. "So, what do we got? What's the 4-1-1?"

"Did Aaron send you?"

"No one sends CC anywhere. I was simply made aware that you may need help dealing with the old people."

She slipped past him like it was nothing. Bart sighed and reentered the house after her. He kept a suspicious eye on her, folding his arms as she entered the room.

"So, he sent the master manipulator. What are you playing at, Aaron? Where the hell are you?"

"Daddy! Mama!" CC exclaimed, throwing her arms out.

"My dear, sweet girl," Queen Mary returned.

"Is that Caroline Condor?" Duke Arden asked in delight, he and King Henry bumping shoulders on their way to say hello.

"It's about time they sent you home," said King Henry, his tone soft and gentle.

"Very good to see you, Duke and Duchess A," CC said with an ever-widening smile. "I brought back the most wonderful tea. You must all have some with me."

"This isn't the best time dear," said King Henry. "Aaron has disappeared with the Arden girl. That kid. He hasn't answered a single call! I should have him on a tighter leash. The streets are no place for a future king."

"Nor a future queen," Duke Arden added.

"Hell must have frozen over twice. You two aren't at each other's throats and in agreement to boot," Bart muttered, still watching at CC.

"You haven't a thing to worry about father," CC assured. "Aaron called me when I got here."

As she spoke, a maid ushered in a pot of tea with six cups.

"I found the most excellent Rose Grey Black Tea on my travels. Please, have a cup with me, everyone," CC persisted, not stopping for a moment.

"He did, did he? He will have an earful from me when he gets here about not taking my calls," said King Henry.

"And from me for having my daughter out at this hour," Duke Arden added.

Bart picked up a cup after the maid poured the tea. He locked eyes with CC. A strange but familiar smell hit his nostrils as he took a sip.

"Finest tea I ever had," he said, hoping he'd live to tell the tale.

The queen and the duchess did the rest. The men were soon persuaded to join in. Within an hour, the old people were out cold.

"What's in this special tea of yours? You didn't drug our parents to get your brother out of trouble, did you?" Bart asked as they covered their passed-out parents with blankets.

"Nope. Got them drunk instead. Spiked the tea with some potent Rum I picked up before I got here."

She pulled the sash of her dress and he looked away instinctively.

CC grinned, waiting for him to look back. Even Bartholomew Arden was only a man.

And of course, he did look back. He knew there was something odd about the way the dress fit her. Underneath it, she wore black denim shorts and a white tank top.

"Where are they?"

"Business as ever, huh Arden? Want to take a ride with me to come and find out?"

Zoey had fallen silent in the group of people that had come to surround her and Aaron.

Noticing her discomfort, he put his arm around her shoulders and said, "Alright guys, I'll see you around. Zoey's new here and I want to show her around."

Mario was about to protest when someone broke through the group and threw herself at Aaron. It wasn't her arms looping around his neck or the kiss on the cheek that set Zoey off, because how could it have been? She hadn't even known the prince for a day.

"Are you ignoring me or something? I haven't heard from you all day. That's never happened before."

The multitude of speakers pumping music into the club made it difficult to converse. A saving grace, as the awkwardness of this moment, snuffed out the group's voices.

"Em, come on," Aaron said, breaking the silence.

Aaron peeled the woman off himself. He gave Zoey an apologetic look.

Zoey's attention turned to the woman. Her midnight-blue, strapless dress ended mid-thigh. She wore her strawberry-blonde hair in a high ponytail. There was no getting away from it. 'Em' was a goddess.

"This is my date, Zoey," Aaron said, moving to stand behind Zoey.

Aaron's hands came to rest on Zoey's shoulders, catching Emily's attention.

"Zoey huh? Where did you find this one?" Emily scoffed.

"Excuse me?" Zoey asked.

Emily's tone left Zoey feeling insulted. Why was she getting mad? She hardly knew the man.

"Well you know you're the flavour of the evening, right? They usually know Aaron. Does she not know?"

Although Emily held her liquor well, he could smell it coming off her body.

"Lay off the booze, Emmy. You're wasted," said a frustrated Aaron, taking the glass out of her hand.

"Whose fault do you think that is?" she shot back.

Emily wobbled and bumped into people left and right.

"Give us a moment, okay? I'll make sure she sobers up," Aaron said sheepishly.

"Sure, do what you have to," Zoey returned.

Her tight-lipped smile was dangerous. On a different night, it would have done it for him.

"Mario, take care of the very special Lady Zoey for me okay? Back in five."

Mario half laughed, half shrieked.

"She's not usually like that. They have been friends for years," he said, swallowing his double scotch in one go. "I'm going to grab another, okay? Wait right here."

CC and Bart entered Fortunae as Aaron dragged Emily to an open seat at the bar. Aaron handed Emily a bottle of water as a frustrated Zoey sighed. The group asked her questions that she didn't know how to answer, adding to her discomfort.

"Oh no, it looks like we have an understudy," said CC, observing the scene from above with Bart.

"It looks like Aaron dumped my sister in the middle of a club with nosy people to take care of another woman," Bart said. "Right, that's it. This is over."

"Wait, calm down. It's not over until CC says so," she said, doing a confident hair flip.

She took Bart's hand and drew him into the crowd.

"Hell Emily, you look like you're going to be sick. Why would you get shitfaced like this? It's not even nine!"

"James is back," Emily stammered. "He's finally here, but he feels further than ever before. What if daddy doesn't let me be with James?"

"Em stop it," he said, getting upset.

Of course. She got drunk because she heard about James.

"Stop, please stop!" he screamed, as she wrapped her arms around him tighter than before, pulling him in close.

"What's wrong Ron? I haven't heard from you all day. You didn't answer my calls and now you show up with some other girl and you're being so cold," Emily groaned.

"That's rich, coming from you," Aaron grumbled, gripping her wrists to get her hands off him before he took a step back.

"Why are you being like this? What did I do?"

"How much longer are you going to use me as a stand-in for when he doesn't show up? How much longer am I supposed to pretend, Emily?"

As Aaron finished, the music died. Their eyes locked on each other. A dumb-founded look replaced the pout on her face. The people around them stared and whispered.