Young Writers Society

James was trying not to think too deeply about how uncomfortably he left the conversation hanging. He was hoping that Evaline would move onto something lighter. Maybe she would extend to him the same courtesy that he showed her. But instead, he got something else.

If I were to ask for a non-tangible gift in return from you, it would be for you to aim to be healthy and well-rested.

There were several reactions he had to that in the depths of his soul that did not resonate with any warmth despite the fact that he knew (or wanted to know) that it was said with good intentions. He couldn't help but feel like Evaline was somehow using his "health" like a bargaining chip. She kept harping on it whenever he said something that barely alluded to a harder time, or a difficult memory, or something she just didn't know about. It was like she'd already decided for him that he wasn't "healthy," and she couldn't just accept him as he was. Because gods knew he wasn't going to "get better" for a long time, and "better" might not look like whatever she expected it to look like. Hell, he didn't even know what it looked like.

And how was that something she could ask for as a gift? As if it was something he could easily acheive? What did she even mean? Aim to be healthy and well-rested. Did she not think he was trying? Did she think he wanted to be like this? If she knew -- but that was the problem. She didn't.

And if she did, it would probably only confirm everything she already suspected. She would continue to see him as "unhealthy." Broken. Someone who needed to be babied and babysat. Checked up on. Showered with gifts so he didn't freak out. Kept from the truth so he wasn't overwhelmed. Sheltered. Kept "safe" because he couldn't handle reality.

If he wasn't being watched, James would've clawed at his face. Instead, he stayed in his position, with his chin resting on his arms, and his face set like stone in a netural, maybe thoughtful, expression.

I know the previous note in Nye said we should open up and share personal stories from our past...

Yeah, but they weren't in Nye anymore. That note wasn't around. And what good did listening to that note ever do in the first place?

He would've winced at that thought, but he didn't. He knew what good came out of it. And the pain.

I want you to know that you don't have to feel forced to share anything you don't want to -- but I'm happy to listen to whatever you do want to share.

She'd already said that a handful of times. Like she was trying to assure him that she was safe to talk to -- and yet, she wasn't talking about her past five years in detail either.

It wasn't just that he wanted it to be mutual. He did. But he also didn't want to talk about it. Any of it. He wanted to forget. But not in the way that Evaline had forgotten.

And of course she ended it with something like pesto. So anticlimactic. Like an afterthought. The one out of the three things she said that actually felt like it fit into a game.

"The pesto is the lie," he said.

She was watching him with a soft smile. "You're right," she simply said, waiting to see if he would say anything more.

James felt like he could burst. He closed his eyes, just for a moment. He didn't want to show any outward signs of distress, so he kept it at that, but gods, what he would give to pummel a hay bale or something.

But it was fine. He could reign it in. Just like every other time.

He looked over at her. The mask he wore came without a thought. Gentle. Soft. Calm. Unassuming, and undetectable.

"You know you could've just told me that out-of-game," he said softly. "Unless it was because you couldn't think of anything."

Evaline was quiet for a few moments. "Are you upset that I told you this way?" she asked.

It wasn't the delivery so much as it was what she said in general.

"No," he said. "It just... well, they don't really fit into the box of the types of truths and lies we did before. And it would've been really awkward if one of those was actually the lie."

Evaline was still watching James closely, drumming her finger along the blanket like she was thinking. "Apologies," she said. "I'll stick to the trivial statements in the future, if that's what you prefer."

James smiled, just a little.

"I don't know if you have to make a hard and fast rule about it," James said. "I guess... I don't know. For the more serious things, making them into a bite-sized little factoid can sometimes feel like it's trivializing them. Not in every case, but. Sometimes."

"James," she said slowly and gently. "It's okay. I was being dramatic, I know. It's just a silly game." She offered another small smile. "Don't overthink it."

Well it was too late for that.

"Alright," he said softly. "Sorry if I... killed the mood."

"You didn't," she said gently, laying on her back with her arms crossed behind her head. "Don't worry about it."

James nodded slightly, offering another small, shy smile.

"Should I go again?" he asked.

"If you want to."

James wasn't sure he did, but he didn't know what the alternative was. There were three options: they would go to bed, they would continue talking normally, or they would sit in silence. Continuing the conversation without a game as structure seemed like it would be more challenging with Evaline growing more and more visually sleepy, but he didn't know if he was ready to go to bed on this note.

Or, leaving Evaline going to bed on this note. Because he knew he wouldn't be falling asleep for some time.

"Yeah," he said. "I just have to think of something."

"Take your time," she said back, but he could hear the tiredness in her voice now.

He lifted his chin up from his arms and looked up towards the sky. He needed to hurry up and come up with something. Before she dozed off.

"Some memories I recall to help me fall asleep. I used to collect rocks. I know the Outlands like the back of my hand."

Evaline didn't want to stretch the silence too long since they had just came from a somewhat tense moment and she was too tired for long silences. Still, she briefly thought through his answers.

He probably thought through his memories to fall asleep since it seemed like something he'd do. She didn't know about collecting rocks, although she hadn't seen him collect any before. It seemed right that he'd know the Outlands well since he spent a lot of time there and had been past the desert side as well.

"Collecting rocks?" she said. "Is that the lie?"

"I guess I made it too easy," James said. "Yeah. That's the lie."

"Yeah," she agreed. "I didn't remember you collecting rocks."

"I could've done it after," James said. "But I didn't. Rocks are just dead weight, anyway."

Evaline let out an amused breath of air through her nose imagining James having to protect a saddlebag full of rocks. Her mind then drifted to his other truth.

"So you think through memories to fall asleep," she stated.

"Sometimes," James said. "Not all the time."

She hummed in thought. "It's interesting. That would keep me awake."

"I don't think of the 'exciting' ones," James said.

"So you think of the boring and mundane ones?"

"Peaceful ones."

Peaceful. She wondered what that meant for him.

"Like what?" she asked.

James was quiet for a long moment, and his face was turned slightly away, shadowed by the shade of the willow.

"It's a foggy memory," he said softly. "But... there's this brief moment I remember from when I was little boy. I was in my father's lap, and he was sitting on the rocking chair on the front porch. I was curled up, leaning on his chest, and my eyes were closed. I can remember the cool, autumn breeze. His warmth. The smell of tree sap."

Evaline paused, taking in all the information and fighting the urge to drown out his voice and close her eyes. She knew that his father meant the world to him and that he cherished every memory he had with him. The memory he described indeed sounded like a peaceful day, just him and his father.

She disliked that she had to fight the desire to help him remember it. She didn't use that power if she didn't need to - which turned out to be almost never, considering the limitations.

Still... if it helped him sleep...

"You said you felt... peaceful?" she asked.

"Yes."

"And this memory helps you sleep at night?"

"Sometimes," he said quietly. "Not all the time."

"Why not?" she asked, curious.

"Some nights it's just... harder," he said.

Evaline paused. "Because of your father," she said.

"Because of a lot of things," James said.

She sighed. "I can understand that. That's why I think it's easier to not think of anything to fall asleep."

"Unfortunately, that doesn't really work for me."

She thought for a moment before continuing.

"Do you have any memory that helps you sleep without fail?" she asked.

"If I did," James answered. "I would sleep a lot more than I do now."

"Fair," she said softly. "Then... maybe it would help to make up stories. I don't know."

"I've tried a lot of things," James said. "That included. It's not that I don't want to sleep. My body just doesn't seem to want to."

"So it's like your mind is tired, but your body is restless," she said.

"I guess."

Evaline wanted him to be his healthiest self. She really did. And that included being well-rested.

Aside from when she had troubling thoughts keeping her awake, she was hardly the insomniac and would even sleep in if she so desired. James was the opposite, and it was getting increasingly difficult knowing what to do and how to help him.

"Maybe exercise would help," she said. "You can trick your body to feel more tired after strenuous activity."

"Evaline..." James said, sounding a little wearied, but not tired. "When I say I've tried a lot of things, I really mean it. Everything I could think of."

Everything. She wondered if that included drugs. She didn't blame him, though.

And it didn't sound like it worked, either.

She thought he'd go to sleep easier without the active threat of danger around him every second of the day and night, but clearly something else was keeping him awake at night.

Still, she wanted to help, somehow.

"Maybe..." she began, almost abandoning the sentence and idea. She said the next part quickly before she'd change her mind.

"Maybe I can help you remember something that could help you fall asleep. You'd have to tell me what it is beforehand, though."

James looked down at her, but his face was shadowed, and hard to read.

"It's fine, Evaline," he said softly. "I don't expect you to be the solution to all of my problems."

Well, she wasn't having any of that.

She sighed and then slowly sat up, giving him a tired and long look.

"You act as if I'm doing this out of obligation," she said. "But I really do want to help. So, does anything come to mind?"

James sighed deeply.

"No. I -- nothing comes to mind," he said.

Surely there was something. It sounded like James didn't want to accept her help and was holding back.

"Think harder," she insisted.

"Evaline, I don't really want to," he said, letting what almost looked like a pained expression leak through, only for a moment.

Even through the hazy mind of sleep, she knew she had accidentally created another moment of tension. But she hardly felt it.

Evaline watched him for a moment, closing her eyes briefly as she chose her next words carefully.

"They're old memories," she said. "Ones that used to help you sleep, but don't anymore. Is that why you don't want to think about it?"

James pursed his lips together and sighed again.

"Some things are painful to think about," he said quietly.

Evaline looked down, clenching the blanket as she hesitated to think of what to say. She laid back down, flat on her back as she stared up into the sky littered with stars.

"Yeah," she said softly. "I know."

James glanced over at her, but then turned his face away.

"...Do harmonicas exist on Earth?" he asked out of the blue.

Evaline wanted to look up and give him a strange look, but instead stiffened. It was then that she realized her entire body was tense, and she relaxed.

"They do," she said. "But I haven't seen any since I was a teenager."

James hummed.

"It was a long shot, anyway," he said. "It was just a thought."

Evaline was confused by the completely random topic change, but when she thought about it some more, it suddenly hit her.

"Oh, that's right," she said. "You play the harmonica."

"Well, I did," he said. "When I had one."

Evaline hummed this over. "I haven't seen one in a long time because I wasn't looking for them," she mused. "But I could."

"You..." James trailed off, and then laughed once, weakly, in the back of his throat. "You could." A Pause. "But maybe you should get some sleep first."

She looked up at the brightest star, the one she had joked about being Nye.

"I could do that too," she said. "But I know you're not going to sleep."

"You don't have to stay up with me, you know. It's okay."

"You're right," she said. "I don't have to. But I could. And I don't mind it."

Evaline didn't think she could stay up that much longer, but after hearing about how difficult it was for him to sleep, she didn't want to give in that easily. Maybe there was nothing she could do to help, but at least she could stay up with him.

James shifted, and slowly, he lied back down on his blanket, with his face upward to the stars. He was quiet for a while, and Evaline could feel herself starting to drift off.

"You know," James said softly. "Sometimes, just when I've started to fall asleep, my body will jerk me awake. At the sound of a falling leaf, or the shuffle of birds in tree branches, or sometimes, nothing at all."

It was a bit ironic that he mention this when she had unwillingly closed her eyes for a few moments, but she appreciated the conversation starter anyways.

"That sounds awful," she said, focusing back to the sky. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"It happens every night," he said. "It's normal for me, now."

Her eyed wandered across the sky, trying to not focus on one star but all of them. It helped keep her awake.

"You weren't always like that," she commented.

"I know," he said softly.

There was a small pause before he continued.

"Sometimes, I wonder if the noises that wake me are real or imagined. There have been moments where I've woken up from a dead sleep, feeling like someone was hovering over me, and then there'd be no one there."

Another pause.

"It has saved my life. A few times," he said, barely audible. "But even here, it's like a reflex I can't turn off. It's just... embedded."

Evaline felt like she was lagging behind, trying to absorb every word, but not being able to respond in real time. She didn't want to come across as inattentive.

"I'm sorry," she said again. "I wish there was something I could do to help."

"I know," James said gently.

"I assume..." she started, but then abandoned the sentence. "Do you want help?"

James was quiet for a moment.

"I don't think I do," he whispered, almost like it was a quiet realization he'd only just said aloud.

Evaline closed her eyes for just a second before opening them again, trying to focus. "That's okay," she said softly enough for him to hear. "But would you tell me if you change your mind?"

"Why, so you could make me more tea?" he asked.

"I only want the best for you," she said. "That includes being well-rested. But I'll wait."

James was tired, but not in the way that he could just fall asleep.

"What does that mean?" he asked quietly. "'The best for me...'"

Evaline was quiet for a moment. "Safe. Happy. Healthy. But I know that's vague." She paused. "I am trying, though."

"I can tell," James said, glancing back at her. She looked like she was trying so hard to fight off sleep.

"...Are you okay with that?" she asked.

James took in a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"It's not that I don't appreciate everything you're doing for me. It really does mean a lot, and I don't know how to thank you enough for it. But I guess... I just don't know what you expect from me. It feels like you keep asking for me to just... be okay. And I don't really know what that means."

Evaline let another long silence pass. Possibly from thinking. Possibly because she was falling asleep. Maybe both.

"I'll help you figure it out. What it means to be okay. Or, we will. You will." She took a deep breath. "I know it takes time. But I'm sorry if I was intrusive."

"It's... it's fine," James said, hugging his knees. "I guess... I just don't want you to feel like you have to try and... fix me."

"Fixing... implies that something is broken," she said softly. "I don't think that's the right word."

James looked over at her. She was laying on her side, facing him, but her face was obscured by shadows. He couldn't see her expression, or even if her eyes were still open. All he knew was that she sounded sleepy. Increasingly so.

"You don't think I'm broken?" he asked in a whisper.

"No," she said after a delay. "Do you?"

James looked away, with his face turned down. It was a fair question. He wasn't sure.

"I don't know about broken," he said softly. "But... I'll never be the person I was before."

Evaline stirred a bit. "I don't expect you to be," she said slowly. "And... that's okay."

James wondered just how much Evaline meant that. He knew now that she didn't remember any of the moments where they were anything more than friends, or felt anything more than that. It made sense, now. Why she was treating him the way she was. Why she kept avoiding it.

He couldn't help but wonder -- no, he knew that things would never return to the way they were. They were different people now, and she probably would never like him in that way. Not how he was now. Not if she saw what he was really like.

Would she even want to be friends? Would she even want to be associated with him? Or would he just be a burden to her? Just like every other friend he'd ever made?

Sometimes he wondered if he should just ruin it all now, instead of waiting for it to fall apart later. Maybe then, it would hurt less. But he was too much of a coward to do that.

That was his curse. No matter what he always seemed to try. And it was never enough.

"Thank you," he said quietly.

"Mmmhmm," was all she said back, barely audible.

That was his cue to shut up and let her go to sleep. She was already halfway there. She was only hanging on because of him.

He sighed and laid down on his back, closing his eyes.

"Goodnight, Evaline," he said softly.

Evaline didn't respond right away.

"I'm glad you're here," she said, barely audible, almost slurring her words from drowsiness.

James almost looked over at her, but he knew he wouldn't be able to make out anything in the dark. He felt a twinge in his chest that hurt, and in the hidden shelter of the darkness, he allowed himself to frown.

He wished he could say the same. But there were layers he couldn't peel back to say it with full honesty.

He didn't want to be here. He didn't want to be anywhere.

"I'm glad I got to see you again," James said, just as quiet. Evaline didn't reply. She must've finally fallen asleep, but it was alright. It was for the best.

James rolled over on his side, facing away from her. It was going to be a long night.

Evaline woke up from the obnoxious sounds of birds over her head. They weren't the usual chitter of wildlife birds she heard if she was sleeping in the woods, and it was that thought alone that prompted her to open her eyes.

The morning sun shined through the droopy leaves of the willow tree, and for a moment, her heart skipped a beat as she didn't recognize this tree or scenery. She quickly sat up straight and looked around in alarm, but then remembered that she was at James's farm. She sighed a breath of relief when she could see him in the near distance riding Elliot and approaching her.

Right. He asked if she wanted to stay, and she accepted the invitation. They were up pretty late chatting last night. She must have fallen asleep mid-conversation. She did try to stay up as long as she could, though.

Evaline got up on her feet and took a minute to stretch her arms and back before reaching down to grab the blankets. She had finished folding them by the time James approached.

"Morning," she said to him. "I see you've already started your morning routine walking with Elliot."

James brought Elliot to a stop just a few feet away from her and looked down at her with a soft, small grin.

"We just finished," he said. "Did you sleep alright?"

"I did," she said as pushed back her hair with one hand and quickly combed through it with her fingers, getting rid of blades of grass and other burrs stuck there from last night. "Did you?"

"It was decent," he said with a small shrug. "More comfortable than the cot."

"Right," Evaline said with a little smile and then looked out into the open fields. His day probably already started before the sun even went up.

"Well. I should probably check on Ellie. I don't think she'd be very happy tied up on the porch any longer, even though she's probably still asleep."

"Fair enough," James said. "I set some water out for her for when she wakes, and there's some food for you on the table inside when you're hungry. I'm going to have to head over to Isabel's for a bit - if you remember from yesterday. I told her I'd keep my word, so, I'll be going over for her... potato casserole, if I remember correctly."

Evaline nodded and rubbed the leftover sleep in her eyes. She was going to suggest to leave, but she'd wait until he came back. He didn't really give her much time to say hello, nevertheless goodbye.

"Of course," she said. "Thank you. I'll wait for you to come back. Enjoy your time with her."

James smiled a little and nodded. "Thank you. I'll see you in a bit, then," he said as he turned Elliot around and rode towards the fence.

Evaline watched him ride away, and when he became out of earshot, she started to walk towards his cottage. It felt strange to be on someone else's property without them accompanying her, nevertheless a property in Terra. She couldn't help but feel a little on edge. But at the same time, it did feel peaceful. There was something serene about waking up with the morning sun and walking through a traditional farm with birds chittering nearby, undisturbed.

When she arrived at his cottage, the first thing she did was notice Ellie indeed still asleep. Not wanting to wake her up right away, she quietly entered his house and silently closed the door behind her. When she turned around, she saw that James indeed set up breakfast for her.

On the table was a pitcher full of water and a clean glass for her to drink from. There was also a plate of freshly cut fruit on the table. Slice of an apple, orange, banana, and some melon. But what mostly impressed her was how it was arranged; they were delicately placed on the plate into a neat spiral, organized by color, shape, and size of the fruit. It seemed that James had spent a lot of time making it look nice for her. It was really thoughtful of him.

Evaline almost didn't want to ruin his work, but practicality got to the best of her, and she took the plate outside to eat. Already munching on a slice of an apple, she sat down next to Ellie and gave her a few pats. She stirred, stretched, and then laid her head and paw on her lap, not wanting to get up yet. That was okay. They had some time.

Minutes passed, and Evaline had made her way through the majority of the plate, not realizing how hungry she was until she finished. With only about a slice of everything else, she set the place next to Ellie in case she wanted to eat it (since she seemed to like to sometimes steal her fruit anyways), and then stood up, stretching again.

She might as well catch up with her morning meditation.

After finding a comfortable spot in the grass in front of her porch and letting Ellie finally wake up and follow her (only to sleep in front of her), she closed her eyes and drifted into the usual routine of meditation.

Cleanse her mind, wipe away any worries, start the day with a clean slate.

She often found herself losing track of time when she meditated, but she had gotten pretty good at stopping around the one hour mark.

Still, it was very hard to concentrate when she could hear a small vehicle pass by the farm. It wasn't completely silent. It must have been an older model.

Hesitating, she disrupted the session and opened her eyes to see who it could be.

It was Josiah, riding along the same path that James pointed out earlier today. Evaline pursed her lips for a moment, but then decided to get up and briskly jog up to him so that he wouldn't pass by the farm. He stopped the vehicle since he seemed to notice her approaching, as well as Ellie since she started to walk by her feet.

"Miss Evaline," Josiah said with a tip of his straw hat as she walked the final last feet close to him. "Sorry about that, I didn't know you were here. What can I do for you?"

Evaline smiled. There were a few things she would like to ask of him.

James was riding back on Elliot with a full stomach. Isabel had made a lot of potato casserole to share and had a lot of questions. Of course, James had no problems with diverting the conversation and shutting her down when she got to be too nosy, and from there it was more relaxed. They ate, they talked, Isabel joked about Elliot liking it too much at her farm to want to leave, and eventually they parted ways.

James didn't mind Isabel's company, but he did find, by the end of it, he was ready to go back. Sometimes keeping up with her sudden whims and playing along with it was draining. Or maybe it was just because of everything else that was taking up space in the back of his mind, like too many boxes shoved in one room, to the point of nearly bursting.

When he was clear of the trees and the view before him was clear, he could make out Evaline out front. She was standing near the dirt road with Ellie at her side, talking to Josiah, who was sitting in his vehicle, probably making his morning rounds. Just as James passed through the gate opening, Josiah seemed to tip his hat and they waved each other off. James waved to Josiah in passing before he rode back up to Evaline, and hopped down out of the saddle.

"Did you have a good morning so far?" James asked.

She watched Josiah ride away and then turned towards him, smiling a little. "Sometimes it's the small things in life that can brighten your day," she said as she reached down to pet Ellie as she wove between her legs. "Thanks for setting up the fruit. It was thoughtful."

"Oh," James said. "You're welcome."

He paused, glacing back at where Josiah disappeared.

"What did you two talk about?" he asked.

"Small talk, mostly," Evaline said, still petting Ellie. "And you. Seems to be our commonality between me and the lead farmer of this place."

James looked down at Ellie, who started to purr.

"All good things, I hope?" James asked with a teasing smile.

Evaline bent down and gave Ellie a playful aggresive pet on her head, and she pawed her hand and seemed to even playbite her. It didn't seem aggresive though.

"Of course," she said as she stood back up. "I mean, no, I told him that you were going to bring in an army of dandelions, and he should quarantine your farm."

"Ah, I see," James said with a nod and great sarcasm. "There goes all my friendship opportunities."

Evaline twirled her hand in front of her and did a small bow. "You're welcome," she said, lingering her gaze on him for a little bit before looking out past the field towards the gates. She was probably thinking through her inevitable goodbye.

James wondered if she was in a hurry, or if she was just considering her options.

He glanced over at Elliot, who was standing beside him. He was watching Ellie warily, but he could tell that if Ellie weren't there, Elliot likely would've approached Evaline to greet her.

"I think Elliot is a little shy because Ellie's got your attention," James said. "But I think he wants to say hello. If you don't think it'd make Ellie too jealous."

Evaline looked between the two animals as Ellie continued to paw her leg for attention.

"How about we trade?" she said. "I'll say hello to your Elliot, and you say hello to my Elliot. That way no one's jealous."

James smiled a little. "Deal."

He offered the lead to Evaline, and once it was in her hands he stooped down beside Elliot and scratched behind her ear.

Evaline watched as Ellie purred and flicked her tail, seemingly pleased as she was getting attention from someone else. She put her paw on James's knee and rubbed her head into his hand.

With Elliot's lead still in Evaline's hand, she looked over at him and slowly approached, setting her hand on his snout. Elliot leaned into her as she gently started to pet him.

"Glad you're finally getting attention from me now, huh?" she mused out loud. "It's okay. I can't ever forget the original Elliot."

James watched Evaline from the corner of his eyes, and he saw how Elliot clearly remembered her. He turned his attention to Ellie, and scratched under her chin.

"You're just a little cuddle bug," James whispered softly to Ellie. "Aren't you?"

Ellie purred and leaned into his hand, rubbing her head down his arm as her tail flicked back and forth.

"You know," Evaline said while they both petted each other's animals. "I was able to quickly learn how to ride Ellie because of your lessons. Thank you again, for that."

James hummed, glancing between Ellie and Evaline.

"Is riding a feline so similiar to a horse?" he asked.

"It's a little different," she said, still focused on Elliot. "It took me a while to adjust."

"I imagine felines respond differently to certain cues," James commented.

"A little," Evaline murmured, glancing back at James. "I was actually wondering," she said after a brief pause. "Now that you're settled in Terra... Well, I was wondering if it would be okay if I could try to ride Elliot again. If that's okay with you."

James turned around, still his hand on Ellie's head. He looked between Evaline and Elliot, as if to make eye contact with Elliot for a moment to ask permission. But he already knew the answer.

He briefly met Evaline's eyes and smiled lightly.

"Sure."

Evaline looked between Elliot and James as a nervous laugh escaped her throat. "Oh. Hah. Okay. Thanks." She peereed behind Elliot and lightly tugged on his lead rope. "I'll try over there," she said as she gestured at the field behind the shed.

James nodded and looked down at Ellie as he got to his feet.

"I suppose you'll come along, then, big cat?" he said quietly, to Ellie of course. He started to follow Evaline and Elliot, and Ellie didn't join at first, but then quickly walked over his way, weaving through his legs like she was still demanding attention. James reached down and pet her when he could, but mostly just tried to keep leading her with him.

Evaline glanced back at James, but then wordlessly got on the saddle. She seemed off-balanced and stiff, but that didn't stop her from sitting up straight and motioning for Elliot to start off with a canter speed with the reins. Elliot seemed to notice the confusing signals and tension and twisted his head to the side like he was confused.

By the time James approached, she was looking down at her hands and feet and studied what she could have done wrong.

"Like I said," she said with a quick glance over. "...Takes some time to adjust."

James was watching, now with Ellie still playing at his feet. He was still reaching down and petting her as she circled around him, but his eyes were on Evaline. He couldn't help but grin. It was clear that Evaline hadn't forgotten everything, but Elliot was also being very patient.

"Your posture is decent," James said. "Your heels should be pointed down, though. Did you squeeze with your legs when you flicked the reins?"

Evaline shook her head and corrected her heels and then inched back a bit to apply pressure on her legs. "Like that?" she asked, looking over at James and demonstrating.

As she did so, Elliot started inching forward slowly, though hesitant. James nodded.

"Oh hey, that's a start," Evaline said out loud with a smile, but then focused her attention back at what she could do to improvement. "I think it might be how I'm holding the reins," she said. "Or maybe something else? What am I doing wrong?"

"You should be holding them loosely. Just enough tension that you can tug lightly, but not so loose that you're hardly holding them at all. It looks like you're too tense," James suggested.

He wondered if she was used to holding the reins closer since Ellie's head was closer proportionally.

She followed his suggestions, and it went back and forth a few times until she was able to follow the ideal riding position. Turned out, she was used to leaning forward, positioning her body closer to the ground, and a rough tension along the reins because that was how she rode Ellie. Once he figured that out, it was fairly straightforward to teach her how to have the proper posture.

"Alright," Evaline said confidently, looking ahead with a glint in her eyes. "Let's try this again."

She clicked her tongue and motioned for Elliot to go forward, and Elliot seamlessly followed, riding straight down the path.

Evaline grinned and rode in a little circle, glancing back at James. "I'm going to go around your farm, but I'll be back," she said half-distractedly like she didn't want to lose focus.

She didn't wait for him to answer, already bounding down the field. James watched, and was left alone with Ellie. He looked down at her and booped her nose as she looked up at him. She blinked upon the touch.

"I don't plan on riding you," he said.

As if she heard the opposite, she pawed his hand. Or maybe she wanted more boops. He tried for the latter, and as he tried to poke her nose, she swatted at him, her tail flicking and indicating that she was in a playful state.

"Oh, so it's a game now," James said with a faint laugh. He glanced up to see where Evaline and Elliot were at, and they were still off in the distance.

James wanted to try and play with Ellie, but he couldn't shake the feeling of apprehension every time she pawed at him. He didn't show it, but it made him nervous in a way he couldn't explain. He was afraid to egg her on too much.

He decided to just pet her head, scratching again behind her ears. Thankfully, she seemed perfectly content with the pets and scratches, purring and showing affection as she leaned into his hand and walked around him to rub her head around his legs. James decided to stick to pats until he finally saw Evaline and Elliot circling back around to them.

Evaline slowed down Elliot as she approached, and when she came to a stop in front of them, she haphazardly jumped off Elliot and stumbled to her feet, but she was grinning and looked please.

"I've forgotten how much different riding a horse is," she said as she gave Elliot one last pat and walked over, holding on to his lead rope. "It's more, I guess you could say... sturdy, and powerful. It's hard to describe." She extended her arm for him to take the lead rope again, still smiling and trying to meet his eyes. "But thank you. I didn't think I'd ever do that again. It was nice."

James took the lead and smiled in return.

"I'm glad it was," he said. "I'm sure Elliot wouldn't mind if you rode him again the next time you visited."

Evaline turned back to put her hands around Elliot's snout to pet. "Would you mind that?" she asked in a higher-pitched voice to Elliot. "Or do I smell too much like cat?" She lightly laughed at herself then turned back around, flicking her eyes to James, then to Ellie.

"...Anyways," she said as she bent down to pat her head. "Thanks again. I hope she wasn't too much of a bother. Although, I wish you--" she scruffed up her head, "-- were as disciplined as the other Elliot."

"I'm sure you could work with her more," James said, drawing closer to his Elliot so he could pet his snout. "Training just takes time. Though, I'm not an expert on training cats."

"A-hah," she scoffed as Ellie began to play-fight with her hand. "By a cat's standards, Ellie is disciplined."

"That's fair," James said with a small nod. "She's probably the most disciplined cat I've ever seen."

"Yeah. She's a good companion and takes me places. That's all I really need." Evaline glanced back at Elliot. "Although, would not mind having a horse if any more existed."

As she said this, Ellie got up on her hind legs and wrapped her arms around Evaline like a hug. Evaline chuckled and peeled her off, standing back up.

"But a horse can't hug you like that," James said with a small smirk. "There are pros and cons."

"True," she said as she looked back down at Ellie who was now rolling on the ground. "Well, if you ever want to learn how to ride a cat, let me know. It's not that different than riding a horse." She paused. "But I think I should be asking her instead to suggest you be the rider."

"Agreed," James said. "I would only do so if she was willing."

Evaline nodded and let a small bout of silence passed as she let down her hand for Ellie to rub. "What are your plans for the rest of the day?" she asked.

James had the slightest feeling that Evaline might not leave as soon as she first implied. He looked out over his property.

"Well," he hummed. "I'd like to continue working on my bookshelf."

He paused for a moment, in thought.

"And I was thinking of painting the cottage," he said, his eyes flicking to Evaline. "I think it'll make it look a little less dreary."

Evaline tilted her head and let out a hint of a smile. "Is that so?" she mused. "What color?"

James looked back out over the fields thougthfully.

"I was thinking a nice, calm light blue. Stands out, but it doesn't scream at you," he said.

Evaline looked over at the cottage, in thought like she was imagining it. "Or maybe you can do something drastically different. Like a bright red. Add a painting of Elliot to the side, and you're guranteed to get everyone's attention."

James pursed his lips. "I don't know that a giant horse mural would make people come near," he said. "It might make people interested, maybe, but I have a feeling it wouldn't make me any more popular. And that's not necessarily the goal, either."

Her smile slowly faded as his words sunk in. "You wish others would talk to you here," she said, keeping her gaze on the cottage.

"Oh, I didn't say that," James said with a small laugh. "I'm not sure I could handle another Isabel."

The truth was he didn't mind the isolation. It wasn't foreign to him in the slightest, and he was perfectly content with Evaline's company.

Evaline glanced at him with a small apologetic smile. "I'm probably not helping the situation. But... I'm sure your other neighbors wouldn't mind if you talked to them."

"But then I'd have to do small-talk," James said with a dramatized sigh.

"Well. Unless it has changed, I didn't think you minded small talk," Evaline said. "We even started off with small talk. After... you know... running into each other in the dark. But we all start off somewhere."

James knew she was right. All relationships started with a little small talk. He was just tired. If he didn't have to go out looking for it, he wouldn't.

"I suppose so," James conceded, taking a moment to scratch under Elliot's chin.

Evaline glanced at him for a moment, pausing before she spoke again.

"So maybe you're right that a horse mural would bring unwanted attention," she said. "But what about flowers?"

James looked up at her, and his eyes lit up a little.

"I could see myself surrounded by them."

"It would be fitting for a farm," she mused.

"A good omen," James said. "I like it."

"And the light blue could be like the sky. It's rather fitting."

James looked out to the cottage, trying to envision it.

"I agree," he said. "Just one problem. I'm no good at painting flowers."

Evaline hummed. "That is quite the predicament, isn't it?"

James looked back at Evaline with a smirk.

"Would I then, perhaps, be able to borrow your skills this morning?" he asked.

Evaline looked back with her own smirk. "I'd say yes," she said. "But there's another problem. The blue has to be painted first. It would take too long for one person to paint everything alone."

"I have a solution," James announced. "Because fortunately, for us, I also have two working hands."

"Ahhhh," Evaline said dramatically. "Well, why didn't you say so?"

A few hours have passed since they started painting. James happened to have all the material in hand, but Evaline figured that he asked Josiah for them in advance. Even though the cottage was small, it took some time to paint the entire cottage blue, but they evenly divided up the work. James used the ladder to reach the top portions, and Evaline stuck to the lower half. She didn't paint the entire bottom anyways since it was going to be painted over by the flowers.

Evaline finished her section first, and with a finer brush, she started to outline some vines and flowers at the bottom. She had never done anything like this before, and frankly, she was sure it wasn't going to be her best work, but James seemed to already be happy with the outline anyways.

By the time he finished, they chatted for a bit while she continued outlining, but then she offered him another brush.

"You say you can't draw flowers, but I don't believe that," she said, dipping in the brush in the black paint again. "Even kids know how to draw a flower."

James took the brush, and then looked at her challengingly.

"Is that so?"

She pointed at a blank spot she hadn't started on yet. "I think this spot is calling out to you," she said.

James leaned his head in a little and closed his eyes.

"Yes, I can hear it," he said with thick sarcasm. "It's saying it would rather be left blank."

"How rude. I don't want to see it blank. Who will you listen to?"

James dipped his brush in the pan of green paint.

"A compelling argument," he said, as he took the brush to the wall.

She smiled as he began to paint, but then looked back at what she was working on. Adding petals and small details with each careful brushstroke.

"It's really not too bad," she said. "You have the stem, the center of the flower, the petals surrounding it, and then the leaves. I usually have a picture in mind when I'm drawing something, but I've never had to work with this big of a canvas before -- or with paint in general -- so I'm just adding in one flower at a time. I'll incorporate yours in with mine, too."

James nodded slowly.

"Okay," he said as he started to paint. It looked like he was starting with stems and vines first as Evaline kept talking.

"And as you've probably already guessed, I'm kind of treating this like a sketch, but with paint. I don't usually color, and it would take too long anyways since we'd have to outline, then wait for it to dry, then color, then outline again. I do think it's nice to outline in different hues to make it pop out more, though. You can do that too."

James hummed, but didn't say anything. It sounded like he was focused.

She seemed to pick up that he was focused, and she continued to talk a bit more about the loose vision she had for the mural. Eventually, she looked up and over at him to see his progress.


It was far more abstract than what she was doing. Less detailed, and full of more color. Though it wasn't bad by any means, it was very stylistically different than the flowers she'd filled half of the back wall with.

"Oh. Huh," Evaline said as she stared at what he painted. "Well. Those are flowers alright. Different than what I drew, but..." She looked between her work and his, thinking about how it would fit in the big picture.

James looked over at her work, then at his own, and though his expression wasn't overt, she could see the slight frown.

"I could start over," he suggested.

"No, no," she quickly said, offering an apologetic smile. "You just have a different style. I want to incorporate it, but I'm trying to think of how to do it without making the transition too jarring."

James paused in thought, resting his hand over his mouth while his other hand held the brush.

She could outline some of them. Paint over it, then gradually ease the outline into more of a watercolor line, then phase it out completely. That could work.

To experiment with this, Evaline scooted closer to James so she could work on the flower nearest where she drew, starting to outline the petals and stem.

"Let's see if this looks okay," she thought out loud. "I'll outline a couple and then phase into a watercolor style. No idea if it'll look good, but I'll give it a shot."

"I trust your judgement," James said, poking his brush back at the wall.

Evaline finished it up in silence as she focused, and after about a minute, she sat back up, tilting her head as she examined it. "There. That doesn't look too bad, does it?"

She looked over at James for approval, who was already leaning over to see what she had done. Her attention, however, was focused on a pink dot of paint on his nose.

This caught her so off-guard, she let out a quick, loud laugh as she narrowed her eyes at his face.

"I think you, uh -- you have paint on your face," she said through a small giggle, shaking her head.

James met her eyes for a moment and then lifted his hand to his cheek, rubbing it with his thumb like he was searching for dried paint to rub off. But the effort seemed to do the reverse. He just made a line on his cheek, and only realized he'd done so as he pulled his hand away and looked at the dark green paint on his hand. He laughed a little and shook his head.

"Where?" he asked.

Evaline repressed another laugh as he seemed oblivious that he made another mark. "On your nose," she said. "And on your cheek, now." She stared at him, realizing that this oddly looked familiar. Like the face of Ellie looking back at her every morning.

"You look like a cat," she teased.

James stared at her blankly for a moment, and then his face melted into a small, shy smile. His eyes darted to the side.

"What a coincidence," he said. "Now there's two of us."

"Ehhhh." She pursed her lips and tilted her head as she studied his face. "Not quite. You're only the beginnings of a cat."

"I suppose I'll be sprouting ears and a tail next," James joked.

Evaline smiled and rolled her eyes, picking up a finer-tipped brush and dipping it in the black paint. "Close your eyes," she said. "When you open it again, you'll be a cat. Guaranteed."

James watched her brush, and then he briefly met her eyes before he closed them and stood still.

Evaline inched a little closer and then hovered the brush over his face. "I'll use a little bit of Nye magic, called the brushstroke," she said. "It might feel a little wet. Sorry. Magic is weird sometimes."

"I think I will be able to bear it," James said, still pinching his eyes shut.

Evaline then gently started to paint three whiskers on both his cheeks, going over the previous line he made himself by accident. After that, she drew some accents around his eyes and nose, trying to mimic Ellie as best as possible. And just because she had extra colors, she drew some orange and white stripes too, so that he really did look like Ellie. Kind of.

"Okay," she said after about two minutes. She smirked and continued to study the paint when he opened his eyes. "Now you have the joy of looking like Ellie."

James looked back and forth, like he was searching for Ellie. She was off near the fields, pouncing on something. Maybe a bird or a rodent.

"It's almost like she's here with us," James said, patting his chest, and clearly trying to keep a straight face.

Evaline wondered what he was really thinking. It was hard to tell if he thought it was just as funny, or if he was bothered that he was passive and let her paint his face. She didn't mean to come across that way.

"What do you think?" she asked casually. "Not a fan of face paint?"

"Well, I can't really see what I look like--" he said, and then his eyes seemed to light up. He held up a finger like he was asking her to wait a moment, and then he spun around and hurried into the house. A few short seconds later he came running out with the hand-held mirror she'd given him, and then he held it in front of his face.

He stuck out his lower lip and tilted his face from side to side, like he was studying himself, and then a big smile slowly grew on his face. Even with the paint, she could tell it was genuine.

"I will never wash my face again," he said.

"Well, I don't know about that," Evaline said with a small laugh. He let out a short giggle, like he'd been holding it in.

She blinked, taken back by the giggle. "Well," she said casually. "I'm glad you like the spur-of-the-moment decision. Maybe next time I'll make you into a horse."

"I feel like that will not go nearly as well," James said, still smiling. "My nose is not nearly long enough."

"That sounds like a challenge," she teased. "But yes. A cat does fit you."

James looked down for a moment, with his smile naturally fading a little. He looked like he was thinking, but it was impossible to tell what was going through his head.

Last time Evaline was silently thinking, he asked her what was running through her head. Maybe he'd like to share this time. It was just paint, after all.

"What is it?" she asked. "I could tell something is bothering you."

James looked back up at her, almost like he was surprised.

"What?" he asked. "No I-- I was just-- considering doing a--" he laughed. "A cat impression."

Evaline stared at him blankly. "A cat impression," she echoed back neutrally. "You?"

"Listen, I had to consider the cost of my dignity," James said.

She tried to imagine James meowing. She could not.

"Yeah?" she teased. "If your dignity has a cost, does that mean it can be bought?"

James leaned back, eyeing her mischievously. Or maybe that was just the effect of the face paint.

"Are you trying to bribe me?" he asked with a wry smile.

"Fortunately or unfortunately for you, I am not beyond bribery," she quoted in a deep voice to mock him. That brought what sounded like a genuine laugh out of him.

"Alright then," he said challengingly. "Then what's the offer?"

Evaline opened her mouth to say something trivial, but she really didn't think this far ahead, and it occurred to her that this was a chance to figure out what James wanted. Assuming he didn't propose a silly offering, anyways.

"Make me a deal that I'd consider," she said instead.

"I paint your face," he said immediately.

He had that one lined up, ready to go, clearly thought out.

Evaline narrowed her eyes at him in suspicion. "You know it's not that easy to remove paint, right?" she said as she imagined having to talk to her colleagues with bits of face paint of whatever he intended to draw on her.

James gestured to his own face with raised eyebrows.

"A little late to consider that, don't you think?"

Evaline brought a hand to her chin, thinking. "I've had people tell me that I come across as too serious sometimes," she thought out loud. "So now I'm imagining them seeing me with whatever you decide to paint on me."

"It would be a good conversation starter," James offered.

"That, yes. And I'd forever have the memory of you meowing in my head." She turned to him, smirking. "Okay. Deal."

James smiled back at her, mostly with his eyes, and then he nodded, and cleared his throat very loudly. He took a step back, and meowed. But he didn't just meow. He did a string of different cat sounds. First, a generic meow, then more of a cat's screech, then a hiss, and then a purr. It only really lasted a few seconds, but Evaline's laugh drew longer, even after he finished.

That was... a sight. A sight she thought she'd never see. It was so absurd and so random to see James of all people with a cat-painted face making cat noises, she couldn't stop the ugly laugh from coming out.

She closed her eyes and looked down, shaking her head as she came to a stop, still smiling.

"You are so ridiculous," she said as she looked back up at him. "Thanks for that. Now I can't unhear or unsee any of that."

James was smiling wide. "I would hope not. I put my heart and soul into my performance," he said, patting his chest.

Evaline giggled again as she played the memory again in her head. "It's a shame no one else saw it. I'm sure Isabel would have enjoyed it. Maybe you'd even get Josiah to laugh."

James leaned back on his heels and shrugged, tilting his head to the side.

"I'm sure they wouldn't want to make the trade, though," he said, waggling his eyebrows. "Cat impressions come at a cost. Of face painting."

"Yeah, yeah," Evaline said as she set her brush down and then pushed the hair away from her face, tying it back. "It was worth it, and I stand by my trade. What are you going to paint on me?"

"A surprise," James said, picking up his tray of paint and his brush.

"If you paint a horse, I'll try not to get offended that you think I have a big nose."

James looked like he was trying not to smile smugly as he dipped the brush in white paint.

"Just close your eyes," he said.

Evaline shot him a suspicious look, but then stayed still and closed her eyes. "Okay. Just let me know when you're done."

She could feel the paintbrush starting to travel across her face. He seemed to stay away from her eyes and mouth, painting mostly on her temples, forehead, and cheeks. It felt like he was using the smallest tipped brush they had, and she could feel it occasionally swirling in what felt like lines. She wanted to talk and keep a conversation going, but she didn't want to disrupt his focus or work.

"Okay," James finally said. "You can look."

When she opened her eyes, he was holding the mirror in front of her. When she looked into it, she saw that he'd painted a crown of flowers that seemed to artfully swirl down the sides of her face. Compared to her work of making him look like a cat, it actually looked like he put a lot of thought into this one, rather it being a spur-of-the-moment decision. It was like he had every detail planned out. Like he had a vision for it.

"Wow," she said as she tilted her head with varying angles with the mirror still in front of her. "And you say you can't draw flowers."

It had occurred to her, though, that this was a flower crown. And she had remembered him mentioning it in the past.

"It's easier with a smaller canvas," he said quietly, still holding the mirror for her. "Do you like it?"

"I do. I think it's actually... rather nice," she said as she finally tore her gaze away, offering a grateful smile to James. "And I think you're not giving yourself enough artistic credit."

"Well, I guess, when you see your coworkers, you can give credit for me," he said with a slight smile. It looked like he was studying his work as his eyes traveled across her face. "Hopefully it won't be too embarrassing to be seen like this if it doesn't wash off well."

Evaline smiled softly, laughing through her nose. "I think the painted flower crown would help them see me in a new light..." She trailed off in thought, then met his eyes. "It is a flower crown, right?"

James nodded, still slightly smiling. "Yeah. That was the intention."

Evaline examined herself in the mirror one last time, trying to remember what was so familiar with the flower crown. She was too caught up in the moment to ask herself if this was something she wanted to think too deeply about.

"My birthday passed months ago, but I'll accept the late offering." She then looked back at him again, smirking. "Again."

He met her eyes with a gentle smile, and there was a look that seemed to leak through his eyes. It was like a tender sadness.

"I'm glad," he said, and the look seemed to fade. "Besides. Birthdays ought to be celebrated year-round, anyway."

Evaline held his gaze a little longer as she noted the wistful look. A voice at the back of her head told her to address it, but she shoved it down.

Maybe later.

"That's right," she said quietly as she started to scoot back towards the hall of the murals. "And even if there's nothing to celebrate today, at the very least, my face now matches your wall."

James smiled at that, and looked at her, then at the wall.

"Yeah. And I match Ellie," he said.

Evaline figured out a way to branch together their two styles of painting flowers, and it resulted in a wall with lined, detailed flowers on one end, abstract flowers on the other end, and the flowers slowly evolved (or devolved, depending on which direction you were looking) from more or less detailed in the middle. With both of their faces painted, they finished before noon, and had plenty of time to clean up the paint buckets, brushes, and platters. James brought water back from the well for cleaning, and Evaline would use it to wash things off. But neither of them did wash off their faces yet.

When the painting project was all said and done, they wandered around the cottage, admiring their work. It was impressive how much space they covered together, even if it was a small cottage. And James had been right - it did brighten up the place. With a fresh coat of color paint, the home looked far less dreary. It actually looked welcoming.

Next, he would just have to paint the trim to pull it all together. But that could wait.

They ended up sitting on the porch for a minute to drink water and get some shade from the noonday sun. James pulled out some more fresh fruits and vegetables - still gifts from Josiah, that he got infrequently - to fill their stomachs as a midday meal.

It was as they were eating that James reminded Evaline of the bookshelf, and she offered to help, even though she admitted to never have made any furniture before.

Who was he to deny her?

When they finished eating, they headed over to the shed, and he patiently showed her how to help. He knew her hands weren't as rough as his, so he let her focus on trimming, sanding, and measuring off pieces for the bookshelf. He'd already had pieces of wood lined up and a blueprint, but with an extra set of hands helping, it went a lot faster than he'd expected. In a few short hours, they'd put together a simple wooden bookshelf, complete with six shelves. He'd made it tall and narrow, so it would maximize space in his little cottage.

Together, they hauled it into the cottage, and set it up at the corner of his bed. He set his few books on the top shelf, and used a lower shelf as temporary storage for clothes. It wasn't like he had much to store, so he wanted to make use of the space.

When that was all said and done, it was nearing evening-time. Not close to sunset, but after several hours of manual labor, they were both a little hot, sticky, and hungry. As they sat on the bench at his table, they both took a moment to relax and just sit.

It was Evaline's idea this time, to cook a meal.

"I can cook something, if you'd like," she said as she held a glass of water. "Maybe I'll help you increase your standards."

James was mid-drink as she spoke, so he finished and then set his glass down, looking over at her.

"I trust that anything you make will be better than what I can procure," he told her truthfully.

Evaline chuckled. "I'm not the greatest. But maybe I'll teach you a thing or two so you won't get fired at your next job as a cook."

"And gods know I need the job security," he said.

"You're right. It's too bad they don't pay you enough to be a farmer."

James let out a lone sarcastic "HA," and with that, they got to work.

There wasn't much to show Evaline apart from the few cooking supplies he had. There was the wood-fire stove, and he got a fire going for her as she started chopping vegetables and prepping food on the table. When she moved over to the stove, they switched places, and he went to the table to clean up after her so she wouldn't have to worry about it. When he got the cooking utensils out of the way, he set out two places for eating. Plates, forks, knives, and napkins. It was simple, but it was enough to bring a strange semblance of normalcy.

Though it had been quite some time since James had sat down to eat a meal at a table with a friend.

When James had run out of things to do to help, he hovered over by the stove to get a better look at what Evaline was making. It looked like she sauteed a mix of vegetables to go over brown rice, and there was a sauce she had sizzling in a saucepan. She kept saying how it wasn't anything fancy, but to him, it smelled wonderful. He enjoyed it for the fragrance alone.

When it was done, they served the rice, mixed in the vegetables, and then poured over the sauce. They kept the leftover sauce in a pan on the table (set on a potholder) and finally got to sit down to eat.

James dug in, and surprising no one, it was delicious.

"My expectations for food?" he said, holding his hand near the table. "About here. But now?" He raised his hand to about his eye level. "Here."

Evaline watched him first before she took her first bite. "It does wonders to actually cook food and not eat everything raw," she joked after swallowing. "But I'm glad you like it."

James nodded, taking another bite. He hadn't realized how hungry he'd gotten until he finally started eating. Suddenly, he felt famished.

They ate in silence for a bit since their mouths were too busy chewing, but Evaline ate slower than he did, looking up every once in a while. It looked like she wanted to bring something up, until finally, she did.

"So I've been thinking," she said once James had scarfed all but the last bite of his food. "I wanted to talk about my memory erasure."

James has just put the last bit of food in his mouth, so he awkwardly paused for a moment with the fork in his mouth before he slowly set it down on the plate. He chewed quickly and swallowed.

Evaline played around with the food on her plate. She was about halfway finished.

"I didn't want to talk about it before because I didn't think we were ready, but I think it was more about me being ready." She finally looked up to gauge his reaction. "But I think you have the right to know."

James watched Evaline, giving her his full attention now that he didn't have food as a distraction. He didn't want to play with his fork or anything on the table, even though his hands were itching to do so to release the surge of anxiety that was creeping over him.

He held his breath as he waited for her to continue.

Evaline seemed to bounce her attention back between him and the food in front of her, but she kept talking, only appearing a tiny bit nervous.

"I think you've brought up some things in our past that I don't remember, so it would be fair to have a discussion about what it is exactly I did and didn't forget," she continued. "I obviously didn't forget you, or that we spent some time together. But I did..."

She paused, drawing her brows together in concentration as she touched the food with her fork. His eyes flicked away from her for a moment.

"Well, forget is a strong word," she continued, abandoning her previous thought. "The person who erased my memories didn't want to completely delete them. It was only dulled. I still remember it. I just... would have to really think about it."

She was quiet for a moment.

"And I'm not sure I want to," she said softly.

In most respects, none of this was really news to James.

He knew she didn't want to, but he hadn't realized that she could remember if she really wanted. That made it different. It wasn't just that she couldn't. She didn't want to bring back any of the emotions, nuances, or implications back into the present. She wanted to keep living in whatever future she'd created for herself, because up until two weeks ago, he wasn't even real.

He swore he could understand. He really could. But that didn't change the fact that for him, remembering their past while she was oblivious of even the smallest little comments was like a knife twisted in his chest.

It wasn't like he couldn't handle one more pain to add to the list.

He knew he couldn't force her to do something she didn't want to. It just meant that all of his earlier suspicions were confirmed. Things never were going to be how they were in the slightest, and she didn't want them to be.

So they would play pretend. And he would get the short end of the stick, like he always did. It was poetic. Yeah, he'd call it that. It made it easier to swallow.

His gaze had drifted down to the table as he paused for a few brief seconds in thought, and he nodded, before looking back over to Evaline. He made sure that his expression only showed the utmost understanding and empathy. In the back of his head, he could already anticipate his future self berating himself for this moment.

So many expressions that were so practiced to look genuine that he could pull them out of a hat. And for what?

"It's okay," he said softly. "You don't have to."

Evaline made eye contact with him for a second after, and then looked back down again, still appearing bothered.

"Thank you," she said quietly. "But... I understand how it can be hard. For you. Because I may not understand some references. But... you can tell me if I miss something. That's okay. And then I can decide if I want to think back and remember it or not."

He didn't know if he would ever do that at this rate. He would just have to get better at hiding it.

"Okay," he said softly, offering her the slightest, brief smile and a nod.

Evaline paused, nodding as she looked like she was thinking of her next words.

"The flower crown," she said after a while. "It had a bigger connotation than just being given on birthdays... doesn't it?"

James nodded slightly.

"It's... for a number of different special events, really," he said.

Evaline lingered her gaze on him like she was studying him, but then peeled away again.

"It's strange," she said, her attention now focused on the window. "People with time powers usually have a lack of empathy. But as a kid, I've found myself to be the opposite. And I think it's because I've inherited a minor memory power. It forces me to empathize with others, and it's hard to forget what others felt. What I felt."

She paused in thought.

"I think I've learned how to 'grow out of it,' so to speak. But it still carries with me, sometimes. And maybe it's because I'm familiar with memory erasure or the effects of memory manipulation, but I can feel it when I'm thinking back on a vacant memory that has been reduced to a haze."

She set her hands down on her lap, looking back down at her food that she had given up eating for now.

"It feels empty. And I get that feeling the more I try to decipher the flower crown memory."

James couldn't help but wonder why Evaline chose to share this now. He watched her closely, wishing he knew what was going on in her head and the same time dreading it.

"Do you... want to remember?" he asked hesitantly.

Or was she only telling him this as a way of telling him that she knew he hadn't been completely forthcoming with the facepainting?

She peered back up at him, but dropped her eyes again. "I don't know," she said after a hesitation. "But... it has been gnawing on me since then. So... I wouldn't mind if you shared where it came from. Just a summary is fine. If that's okay."

James could feel his soul wither.

"Sure," he said softly. "All I was referencing with the flower crown was when I'd made an actual flower crown for you once. For your birthday."

"I -- I know that," she said quickly. She opened her mouth to speak again, but then drew back. She sighed, trying again after a long pause.

"I know that," she repeated. "But I don't know why I'd forget that unless it..." She sighed again. "Sorry. This is probably as difficult for you as it is for me. We don't have to talk about it."

It was too late for that.

"I'm just not sure what you want me to tell you," James said quietly. "I don't know what you're looking for to help."

Evaline gave him another long look, and although she tried to not show much emotion, a hint of sadness leaked out.

"I guess that makes two of us," she said softly.

James was too pained to fake a laugh or a smile.

He couldn't help but feel like it was an unfair comparison. But she was right that neither of them seemed to know what they needed. Or in her case, wanted.

He knew what he wanted, but he also knew it wasn't what he needed.

"I guess... summaries aren't all that helpful, are they?" he said, still quiet.

"I appreciate it anyways," Evaline said with a strained smile. "It doesn't help that the details are hazy. But I'll live through the consequences of my decisions. I don't want to bring you down with me."

James squinted at her slightly.

"You're not..." he started. "'Bringing me down'-- what do you mean by that?"

Evaline started to fidget with her hands a little -- a sign of her growing anxiety.

"If I'd have known we'd meet again, I wouldn't have done what I did," she said slowly. "But now you're here. And I know... our past hurt. And you still remember it. And I don't. And -- I'm sorry for that. I'm sorry if it feels like we're going in circles."

James felt his head starting to spin. She was giving him mixed messages. She kept saying she didn't want to remember, and she didn't want to talk about it, but here she was, bringing it up in vague for the dozenth time.

She was right. It did feel like they were going in circles. Because she couldn't decide what she wanted.

For half a second, he almost envisioned his past self reaching over, gently taking her hands and assuring her that he would wait. Wait for her to figure out what she wanted. Wait for her to remember by her own choice and her own time. Wait for her to possibly, maybe, potentially want him again.

But he felt like he was just watching her slowly, over and over again, tell him no without saying no.

He didn't know if he had the endurance. His heart was already hanging by a thread as it was before she even entered the picture again. It felt like she just kept poking at it. Like the dull edge of a knife, not sharp enough to cut through with one slice but enough wearing down would cause it to break.

"You couldn't have possibly known that we would ever see each other again," James said softly. "I hope you know that I don't blame you at all for what you did."

He didn't. He didn't.

"No," Evaline replied, just as soft. "But I do."

She looked up at him with a small sad smile.

"I want to say it doesn't matter since the past is behind us, but I know it does matter. Especially to you since you remember everything. But... even so, I hope here -- with the peace of your farm and daily routine -- we can make new memories instead. Ones we'll both remember."

James mustered up a small smile.

"I hope so too," he said.

She took a deep breath out, possibly out of relief.

"I'm glad," she said. "I'm sorry if I've killed the mood. But I thought it was important that we talk about it."

"Don't worry about the mood. It can wait," he said. "I'm glad we talked about it too."

Evaline nodded and hesitated again.

"And... I know there are other topics. Other topics we should talk about. And I think -- I think you might be ready to talk about it. But, if that's okay, I'd rather we wait a bit." She looked up to meet his eyes, like she was asking for permission. "If that's okay."

James met her eyes and a very small, almost teasing smile came to his face.

"That's very vague, but I think I understand, and I can reciprocate the sentiment."

"But I don't want it to be just about me," Evaline added quickly. "If it... bothers you -- really bothers you -- we can talk about it."

James didn't know if Evaline was trying to reach an agreement or if she was just saying things to cover all the bases at this point.

"For instance," she added quietly after another pause. "You've mentioned our last day together. And if that really, really bothers you, and I'm holding you back..." She trailed off and didn't finish or met his eyes.

James wanted to know how she would finish that thought.

"From what?" he asked, making eye contact. She only met it for a brief second before looking down at her plate again.

"From talking about it," she said. "I don't want it to just be about me. If that topic -- or anything else -- weighs heavy on you, I don't want you to feel like I'm preventing you from addressing it. And I know I probably am. I just -- I don't know. I'm trying."

James wanted to say that he'd been avoiding the subject for five years. What was a few more weeks? Months, if it lasted that long?

"I know you are," James said. "That's all you can do. It's okay."

There he was, using her favorite line.

"Is it, though?" she asked, challenging it. "Do you really think that?"

"Yes."

James was almost surprised by the level of conviction he was able to fabricate. He was able to believe it if he was pretending he was someone else. It almost felt like someone else inside of him said it for him.

Evaline held her gaze on him a little longer.

"I want to know what you want. Do you want to talk about... anything? Does anything bother you? It doesn't bother me if you are bothered. I just don't know if it does." She paused, still studying him. "You're still hard to read. So I have to guess. But I don't want to."

At this point, James was hitting a wall.

Mentally, he was done with this conversation. Emotionally, he'd checked out a while ago. It felt like so much more work to stay engaged.

He let out a long sigh, and then met Evaline's eyes briefly with a small, earnest smile.

"If something comes up I'll tell you."

The lie tasted bitter in his mouth.

Evaline hesitated again, shifting her attention back to the fork and food in front of her.

"Okay," she said after a long pause. "I appreciate it. I think it'll help... being more honest. But there's plenty of time."

Why did James suddenly get the feeling that he really might be here for a long time? It sent a shiver down his spine.

"We don't have to rush it," he said in agreement.

"We don't," she agreed, then showed a hint of a smile. "I guess it's just like last time. Taking our time, not rushing to share everything."

At the moment, he didn't share any fond sense of nostalgia, but he mirrored her expression.

"Yeah. I guess it is."



Evaline left that evening, three hours before sundown, on the sixth day of the second week of his time in Terra. He watched her and Ellie's shadow disappear down the road and decided to turn in early, since it was too late to get any significant work done on the fields, or any other ongoing projects without having to stop halfway through.

So he sat inside, and there, he read through all of his books again.

Hours passed, and he let the words by the candlelight fill up his buzzing mind so he didn't have to think about anything at all. It was just headache inducing noise, at least, until his head really did start to hurt, and he could feel the pressure headache building behind his eyes.

He had to set the books down. Reading in the dim light wasn't helping.

By that hour, it was well into the dark of night, and he laid there, still, staring up at the dark ceiling as the pit in his chest finally started to catch up to him.

The pit felt like it was bottomless. Forever and ever, it was just empty. He'd throw his feelings down it and they'd be gone forever.

At least, that was what he wanted.

But maybe it was like Evaline's memories.

If he really wanted to feel them, he would. He just chose not to.

He closed his eyes and begged for sleep to come, but it never did.

Like James, Evaline had been counting down the days he had been in Terra. She kept a pocket calendar in the saddlebag and had circled the day he came in, and the day he first settled in Terra. He had been on Earth for four weeks, and he had been in Terra for three.

Even though she left yesterday evening, she could still feel the tension squeezing her throat and her stomach. Evaline thought that honestly would help bridge the gap in mending their friendship, but it seemed that she had only made things worse. During the dinner, she was ready to show a bit of vulnerability around him, but James just... well, he didn't shoot her down, but he didn't take up her offer to have a conversation, either.

Deep breath in.

And she didn't blame him. She didn't really know what she wanted, and she wasn't exactly forthcoming with her thoughts. Evaline knew she wasn't ready to talk those first few days, but now it had been weeks, and even though she was more welcome to the idea of having a conversation, it seemed that James was no longer interested. It didn't make any sense to her. He seemed so anxious in the beginning, and yes, Terra was supposed to help with that, and it probably did help -- but in this way? Was it supposed to help in this way?

Deep breath out.

It was morning now, and for the first time in a while, Evaline had a restless night. James wanted her to visit more often, and a part of her did too... but she couldn't. She hadn't meant to stay the extra day in his farm, but still -- she didn't regret it. It seemed to make James happy, and that was enough reason alone.

She just had to be more careful next time.

Careful. What did it mean to be careful? Was visiting him and pretending that everything was okay considered careful? Was playing a conversational game, painting, cooking, crafting, and being silly all part of being careful? Was this for her or for him?

Deep breath in...

It was supposed to be for James. He wanted this. By implication alone, she could tell he was lonely. She could remember him being the lonely type.

But she knew she couldn't help fill that role. Not again. Not unless they wanted to repeat their history.

And Evaline was done repeating her history.

Deep breath out...

This isn't working.

Finally opening her eyes, Evaline sighed and tilted her head up up at the clear morning sky, letting the sun beams filtered by the tree above her wash over her face.

Her meditation was not helping her clear her mind, and she felt too off-balanced to continue yoga. It felt like it had been years since she felt this much anxiety over something so... harmless. Usually meditation and yoga helped, but today she was feeling off. It was hard to place why, exactly... but it felt like dread. A dread that she couldn't shake off, and so it appeared in the form of growing anxiety that hid in the shadows of her heart. It wouldn't go away, and that only made her more nervous.

Maybe she just needed more space. Maybe they both needed more space. She needed to start thinking with a clearer head. Maybe James did too.

Evaline gingerly reached out to brush Ellie's fur, deep in thought for a minute.

More time to think. More time to heal... without her.

Yeah. He already made a friend, and he was bound to make more.

"Let's go for a run," she said softly, and Ellie's eyes immediately opened as her face perked up at the word run. "It'll help me think."

Isabel lifted the fifth box up from the ground.

"It's not like I can't handle anything else," she continued on after a long-winded answer about how she was tired of growing beans. "I can grow all sorts of stuff. Ya know, like... cabbage. And maybe even... grapes? They're close to beans, right?"

Josiah had been helping her unload the harvested beans, and he took the box out of her hands and placed it on the bed of the truck. Unfortunately for him, she only had the tiny crates left for harvesting, so it was taking forever to load everything.

"Uh-huh," he said, clearly not paying attention as he stacked the crates.

"Hey, are you even listening?" she said as she waved a hand in front of his face. "Hellooooooo?"

"My ears work just fine, Isabel," Josiah said, taking another box from her.

"Okay, so like I was saying, I should grow more than just BEANS!" she exclaimed. "What do you say? Huh?"

She had asked Josiah this nearly every month, but every time, he said no. Before he could give a straight answer -- probably another no -- she scrunched her face and interjected.

"I'm not a kid anymore, you know. I can grow bigger and better things. Like, not beans."

"Isabel," Josiah said calmly as he continued to help her stack the crates. "You're the only one who grows them. It's an important job, and we're all proud of you. Without you, we wouldn't have any beans."

Isabel's face slowly softened into a shy smile. Even though Josiah always said no, she always accepted it. He always seemed to know what to say, and his answer was different every time.

"Okay," she said defeatedly with the smile still on her face, handing him the next crate. "But think about it next time, okay?!"

Josiah just shook his head with a sigh. "Let's finish bringing these beans loaded up," he said.

As Josiah started to organize the crates in the truck, Isabel spaced out because she knew by "us" Josiah meant him. He seemed to not really trust her with a lot of things, but not in a bad way. He always just saw her as a kid...

She peered out over James's fields, seeing him tend his vegetables in the distance. Isabel pursed her lips in thought, another thought bubble coming in.

"Hey, is James friends with you-know-who?" she asked.

Josiah set a box down but didn't look up at her.

"My ears work, but I can't read minds, Isabel," he said. "Who are you talking about?"

"You know who I'm talking about," she teased as she lightly elbowed him. Isabel then brought up her hands and dangled her fingers out in front of her dramatically. "The tiiIiIiIme wiiIiItchhhh."

"Oh, you mean Evaline," Josiah said. "Yes. It does seem like they know each other. I don't know much more than that."

Isabel let out a small pout, then narrowed her eyes at him, suspicion washing over her face. "I don't believe you," she said. "You know-know something, don't you?"

Josiah sighed. "All that matters is that we get the shipments for food out on time. Her team helps with distribution and trade. That's all we need to know."

"But aren't you scared?" she quickly said. "Like... you know. Isn't it all so suspicious? And what does she want with James?"

She looked over the field, seeing him come a little closer as he walked down the field.

"That's really none of my--"

"HEEEEEY! JAAAAAMES!" she yelled, standing on her tiptoes and waving over at him. "COME HERE!"

Josiah gave her a pointed look and sighed, shaking his head.



Another week had passed, and with each passing day, James felt less and less like himself. Even though he hadn't used an alias, he could feel himself becoming more comfortable in his skin as this version of himself: a farmer on Earth, displaced out of time. Quiet. Kind. Easygoing. Unassuming. Maybe a little odd. Though buzz in the back of his mind grew louder, it turned into a white noise. Always present, but innocent and benign.

When Evaline had left, she didn't say when he would see her next, and he forgot to ask. After another week's time, he was beginning to feel unsure that she would come before the week's end.

Because the week had ended.

It was at that point that he decided to put it out of his mind. If he couldn't count on her coming at a particular time or date, he wouldn't wait for it to happen. He wouldn't worry about it. He wouldn't let it take up space.

So he continued to throw himself into his work.

After a week, he'd managed to finish completely furnishing his home, painting the trim, repairing the roof, giving the shed a fresh coat of paint, working on his garden, expanding his fields, and overall tying all of the major loose strings. Now, there were only small updates, repairs, and improvements to be made.

Elliot was doing well. James would ride him every morning, and now every night, and he was enjoying the peace and the space. James wanted to keep up his stamina and his strength, so on occasion he would take him around the property to do a few training exercises with him, but it was never anything too extreme.

He kept up with his reading, and re-reading, and reading for the dozenth time. He tried to cook more, and experiment some. He had some successes and some fails. Nothing surprising.

It was just peaceful and quiet. Except for when Isabel would stop by.

He was planting another row of carrots when he caught sight of two people in the distance. By now, he knew well enough to quickly deduce it was Isabel and Josiah, because they were the only two people he saw frequently enough to know them by their blurry, distant silhouettes.

He paused at the end of the row, and started back towards his cottage for a drink of water after sweating from a lot of work out under the sun.

Of course, he only made it about halfway before he could hear the faint, distant shout of Isabel. It was a miracle how her voice could carry.

He paused for a moment, longingly looking to his home where there was water to quench his thirst, and then he started towards Isabel and Josiah. It felt awkward to just walk, seeing as Isabel was watching him, so he picked up the pace and jogged over. When he was within reasonable talking distance, Josiah greeted him with a small wave and a nod of his head. James nodded back as he came to a stop a few feet from them.

"Do you need help?" James asked, looking over the remaining boxes being loaded into the car. He'd learned by now that it was called a car.

"Mmmm, yes, help," Isabel said distantly as she looked at the car for half a second. "Josiah?"

"Help would be appreciated," Josiah said as he lifted another box atop the dozens of others. James nodded, and started piling boxes into his arms.

Isabel, meanwhile, seemed to stand off to the side, leaning against the car while watching them work.

"Soooooo," she drew out. "James. We were wondering--"

"You were wondering," Josiah quickly corrected.

"--what your relationship is with Evaline. How'd she become friends with a farmer? Seems weird."

James set down a stack of boxes in the truck, but he didn't stop moving, he immediately turned around to grab more. Isabel was in a nosy mood, and he didn't want to stick around longer than he needed to.

"We just hit it off, I guess," he said. "Sometimes it works that way."

"Were you a part of the rebellion?" she asked.

Evaline had never told James how much Josiah really knew, but James did know it would probably be best not to discuss all of the details with Isabel.

"No," he answered. "I met her not too long ago, actually. We had some mutual friends."

It was a stretch of the truth, but it worked.

Isabel watched him curiously, squinting at him. "Hmmm. Well, it sounds like you don't really know her then. Do you even know what she did?"

"Isabel," Josiah said sternly. "It's rude to talk about people behind their backs."

"I'm inclined to agree," James said, tossing more boxes into the box.

Isabel huffed and crossed her arms. "Well, you better be careful with her. Like, do you even know how many people she's killed?"

James glanced back at Isabel.

"Death is a part of war," he said. "I would expect nothing less of someone in a rebellion."

"Ahhh, you don't know!" she said in a slightly smug voice. "She made the rebellion just so she could murder people, simply because she could. Her blood is all sorts of messed up since she didn't inherit the peace gene. She didn't even care about the war's demands. And then she just left when it didn't go her way, and all the people there just--"

She stopped herself, abandoning the thought and starting another sentence.

"Anyways, now she's doing this whole refugee thing. I don't buy it. You should be careful."

"Thanks for the warning," James said dryly. "You can stop gossiping about her now."

Isabel paused, the smugness fading off her face as she stood up straight and looked away in thought, possibly out of shame.

"I'm just worried about you," she said under her breath, kicking a pebble. "That's all."

James was holding a stack of three boxes in his arms as he passed her, and he paused to look at her. He sighed, and offered her a smile.

"Thanks," he said, deciding to leave it at that and keep loading up.

Isabel nodded, and then let out a small sigh. "I like the new paint," she said as she pointed at his house. "Josiah, you should see it. James's an artist."

"I already saw it," Josiah said, grabbing what was almost the last of the boxes. "It's real colorful, James."

James had to suppress a laugh at Josiah's attempt at a compliment. He nodded as he came up next to Josiah, and the two of them set boxes down at the edge of the trunk.

"Thanks," James said. "The both of you. Though it wasn't all my work. Evaline helped me paint it."

"Huh," Isabel mused. "I didn't know she can paint."

"I would wager that there's a lot of things you don't know about her," James said, grabbing the last box of beans.

"Maaaaybe," she sounded out. "But it doesn't sound like you know a lot about her either. Just saying."

Josiah sighed as secured the bed of the truck. "Those are just rumors," he said mostly to James. "But in this case, I'd say it's a conspiracy theory."

"Oh, and those are real dependable," James said sarcastically.

"Why don't I just ask her myself then?" Isabel barked. "I'm not scared."

James set the last box in the car and turned around to face her.

"Because not only would it be rude, but it would presumptuous and audacious. Just because you're brave enough to do something doesn't mean you should. You may have preconceived notions of who she is, and I very well may too, but you should still treat her like a person. With respect. Regardless of what you think you know," he said.

With each passing sentence, Isabel's face flushed pink and she looked away in embarrassment without saying anything more.

Then he turned to Josiah.

"Is this all?" he asked quietly. Josiah nodded, but then beckoned him to the passenger side seat of the car. James inched towards the door, but was hesitant, and admittedly, a little confused.

"Isabel, I'll see you tomorrow," Josiah said as he nodded to her.

She darted her eyes between the two of them and then raced off home. "Okay. Bye!" she yelled with her back facing them.

Josiah watched her race off, and then he sighed, opening the door for him and motioning for him to sit.

"I've got somewhere I want to show you," he said. "You going to hop in?"

James had never been in a car before, but for some reason, the thought was unsettling. He flashed Josiah a small smile instead and nodded as he hopped in, closing the car door behind him. Josiah walked around to the other side to sit on the drivers side, closing the door behind him.

"Thank you for saying all that to Isabel," he said as he seemed to reach for a strap on the side of the seat and buckled it across him. "The rebellion is a touchy subject for her. I'm sure seeing Evaline didn't help. But you handled her well."

James glanced back over to where Isabel disappeared, and then mimicked Josiah. He found the strap that pulled out of the side of his seat and brought it across his chest. There was a lock, or a buckle, where the strap attatched. Just lke Josiah had clipped it in, so did James.

"Thanks," James said.

A loud noise echoed around them as Josiah started the car, and then they started to inch forward until it reached a fast, steady speed down the path he usually took. He went about the speed Elliot would go during a fast canter.

Josiah didn't say any more until they reached their destination, about 20 minutes away. During the entire ride, James was able to see a fuller scope of Terra for the first time. As they went further away from his farm, he could tell that the level of technology started to increase. The farms began to look more and more intricate, some complete with tools and machinery he had never seen before and didn't have sufficient words to describe.

The car slowed to a stop in front of a large glass building shaped into a dome.

"We're here," Josiah said as he turned off the car, unbuckled the strap, and then opened the door to step out. He already started to walk towards the glass building.

James wasn't sure what Josiah brought him here to see, but he was looking the building up and down, trying to figure out what was inside, but he couldn't make it out clearly. The glass reflected off the sun, making it hard to see what was inside.

"I'm not sure how you managed to do it, but I was told to bring you here," Josiah said gruffly as they walked closer to the glass building. "It's not everyday that farmers like yourself get to see the greenhouse."

The greenhouse. So that's what it was called. Clearly it wasn't named after the actual color it was. He could only assume it was because it housed plants. That seemed like the logical conclusion.

But why glass?

He continued to follow Josiah, trying not to gawk.

"Then I suppose I ought to consider it an honor," he said.

"An honor, a blessing, a gift," Josiah continued, stopping in front of the door. "Call it whatever you want. But don't rush it -- I can't have this happen too often."

He bent down to pick up a basket on the ground nearby and handed it to him, then opened the door.

It was the temperature difference that James felt first. Outside the weather was dry and a bit chilly, but inside the greenhouse, it was humid and it felt it could be the beginning of summer.

And then James saw the lines of fruits and vegetables, slowest packed together in the small space, and growing vertically. They were all off-season plants, only able gonna grown during warmer weather.

"You can pick whatever you'd like here," Josiah said as he continued down the walkway. "But you may be more interested in what we have in the back."

James wasn't sure how to process what was happening. The building they were in seemed to have the weather inside controlled via some form of technology so that they could make summer plants grow in the fall. He was trying to wrap his head around that and the social implications of what Josiah said.

People didn't do this often. Maybe not at all. James was being made an exception, but why? For what?

These questions raced through his head as they passed rows and rows of plants, walking for a few passing minutes through the enormous glass globe. There were fruits, vegetables, even the occasional butterfly fluttering from plant to plant. Water seemed to come out of small spouts at certain times, sprinkling the plants like a small shower. There were even small water holes with fish in them.

"Here we are," Josiah said, stopping in front of the rows of strawberries. "These are ready to be picked. You can fill your basket here, and with other produce ready to be harvested. Up to you."

Strawberries.

James blinked.

"Evaline," he said out loud. "She put you up to this, didn't she?"

Josiah stepped away to straighten a pole that held vertically-growing plants that were still growing.

"You certainly have friends in high places," was all he said.

So the answer was yes, then. James looked over to Josiah with a soft, understanding, but grateful expression.

It wouldn't be the first time. But it wasn't like Josiah would understand if he said that, so he kept the little comment to himself.

"Thank you," he said. "For bringing me here. I won't take too long. I promise."

"No need to promise," Josiah said as he brushed away the dirt in his hands from straightening the plants. "Take your time. I'll be by the truck when you're finished."

And with that, he started to head back to the entrance, leaving James to himself.

James watched as Josiah left, and then looked to the strawberry vines in front of him.

Evaline really was taking notes. Remembering every little thing he said, and turning it into a gift.

He bent down and picked off a strawberry, inspecting it between his fingers. It was small, and ripe, and he couldn't even remember the last time he had one this fresh. The memory of the taste was dull in his mind, and he didn't even know if strawberries on earth tasted the same. The things that overlapped seemed so hard to predict, and it made him question, sometimes, if he really was on a different world or not.

But then he would be reminded of it quickly with mentions of "the rebellion," or whenever Josiah drove by in his car every morning.

He wondered if Evaline was just trying to go out of her way to make him as comfortable as possible. She continued to shower him with gifts even when she wasn't present, and it was beyond him to even begin to know what to do with it. He just knew he couldn't waste any of it. That would be an offense to her generosity.

He had to make the most of the farm, of the food, of the books, of all of it.

As he stared at the berry, there were more thoughts that dimly pressed at the back of his mind, but he pressed back, and ignored them. He started picking berries as a distraction.

He didn't know how many he was permitted to take, but he didn't want to overdo it. Everything grown in Terra was distributed to other refugees and those working to help them, and he didn't think he was special just because Evaline could pull some strings.

He took two handful's worth.

Josiah had implied that he probably wouldn't have a chance like this again, but Josiah didn't know how rare it was for James to have fresh fruits like this - farm-grown - in general. He would not exploit it.

When he was done, he weaved his way back through the plants to find the exit. But he paused when he thought he recognized something. He caught the smell before he spotted the plant.

Cacao beans.

He was drawn to the very small section in a hurry, and he looked it over, noting how there were few cacao plants of note, but about half of them seemed to be ready for picking.

If Evaline could pull strings for him, he would take one pod of beans for her in return. And that was all he took, but it would hopefully be enough just for her.

He put it in his basket and then made a dash for the door. When he came back outside, the cool air shocked his body again, and Josiah was right where he said he'd be, sitting in his car.

"All done?" Josiah asked, peeking up from his car. It looked like he was reading a pamphlet while waiting.

James nodded. "All done," he echoed as he walked up to the car, this time hopping in himself and closing the door. He had to pretend like it was normal, just like everything else. He set the basket in his lap as he put the belt back on.

Josiah started the car and glanced over his basket, but he didn't make a comment about it.

"Alright. Let's take you back, then," he said, and then they started to move again, taking the same path back to his farm.

They were silent for about the first minute before Josiah broke it.

"I hope you've been enjoying life in Terra so far," he said. "Evaline had said you would be a good addition, and she'd be correct."

James hadn't been sure how he was being recieved, so it was relief that Josiah at least thought he was a good addition. Whatever that meant. He looked to Josiah with a small smile.

"I'm glad," James said. "I'm just doing the best I can."

Josiah kept his focus on the road, nodding ever so slightly. He spoke again after a long pause.

"It's none of my business to know the details, but you do have freedom here," he said. "You are welcome to venture outside your farm and outside the gates if you want. You're not trapped here."

James was trying to let the words process as he heard them. He knew from the first few words that he would need to prepare a response, but he hadn't quite expected the information that followed.

He wasn't trapped here. He could even leave if he wanted to? But wasn't Terra heavily guarded? Would he be able to get back in? He thought--

James glanced at Josiah. Clearly, he was wrong. He didn't want to admit that he was under the impression that he was, in some ways, being kept here, and not allowed to leave.

That, and he didn't know how to navigate the outside world in the same way he did Nye. They were in a safe zone, but you could still get very lost in that.

"I guess..." he started. "I'm just not very good at uh. Getting out much."

This would pin him as a loner, but it was fine, because he was. James was only saying things that Josiah likely already knew.

Josiah flicked his eyes at him for half a second, but he was still focused on the road, pulling the car into a near-stop so that he could take a left.

"It probably comes to no surprise to you that most farmers are," he said. "But we're still a community. If you ever need help with anything, or need someone to talk to, you know where to find me."

It occured to James that he actually didn't. At least, apart from Josiah's early morning rounds.

"...Where do you live?" James asked. "I don't actually know."

Josiah let out a small "hmmph" and smiled a little.

"Tell you what," he said. "The Day of Peace is next week. My family is hosting a party with other Terrans. Isabel is coming, so if you come with, she can show you where I live."

James realized he was finally starting to have to lean on the knowledge he'd gained from reading, and now he was beginning to be grateful that he'd read it over and over again. The Day of Peace was the day the genetic war ended. It was a day of remembrance, and celebration, he assumed, for some kind of return to normalcy, and "peace." The beginning of a new era.

James's face lit up at the invitation.

"I would love to come," he said. "How does your family celebrate?"

"Oh, we do everything," Josiah continued on, beginning to open up. "I don't mean to brag, but my wife is the best cook around. She'll make a big feast made with the freshest ingredients. There will also be music, games, wine. Come. We're happy to host."

James smiled. "That sounds like it'll be great. It's been a while since I've gone to anything like that, but it sounds like it'd be a good time. And a way to maybe get to know more people around here."

"It sure does," Josiah said, then paused again. "I think it's important that farmers look out for own. Not as competitors, but as allies. You've got someone you can trust."

James wasn't sure exactly what Josiah was trying to get at, but he was beginning to realize that his self-isolating tendencies from being a wanted man had carried over into his preconceptions of what Terra (and even Earth in general) would be like. Though he knew he hadn't been taken prisoner, he'd been under the impression that he needed to prove his worth and usefulness, and he'd also assumed that Evaline had already let everyone know he was "a time-powered person."

But now he was finally starting to realize that if Josiah was oblivious, then there was no way everyone else in Terra knew.

So they weren't keeping their distance because of his "powers." It was just because he never reached out, and he lived on the edges of Terra.

Then why did Isabel imply that she had reason to be scared of him the first time they met? Was that just all based on rumors because no one knew who he was or why he was there? Was it all conjecture? Fear of the unknown?

He didn't know that he wanted to ask all of those questions to Josiah, but he hoped he'd be able to learn the answers if he kept the conversation going. It wouldn't hurt to talk to Josiah more in general. Build relationships. Seem less like a strange anti-social man.

He offered Josiah a grateful smile.

"You know," he said. "When I came here, I think for some reason, I thought no one would really be interested in me. I guess I kind of just assumed..."

He looked off to the side in thought, taking on a wistful expression, waiting to see how exactly Josiah would respond before he fed him more.

Josiah glanced at him. "You did come into Terra by unconventional ways," he said. "The application process can be competitive. But there's no need for others to get jealous. We all grow and farm, some faster than others, but we get the job done."

"How long have you been farming?" James asked, deciding to cast attention back on Josiah.

"Almost twenty years now," he said. "And you?"

Ah. Yes. His backstory. The one that Josiah still didn't really know.

"Well, I hadn't been farming as of late," James admitted. "But when I was a boy, I would work with my father on his farm."

Josiah paused longer than usual, still focused on driving. They couldn't be more than five minutes away at this point.

"Is that the last time you farmed?" he asked.

James couldn't help but feel like Josiah now considered him grossly underqualified. But it felt silly to lie about something like this.

"It was the last time I did farmwork on anything of this scale, yes," he said.

Josiah nodded, taking another turn.

"You remind me of myself," he said after another long pause. "Kept to myself, stayed out of trouble. I didn't start farming until I was your age, and didn't start until I came to the ungoverned lands. Didn't think I'd be given the chance to farm since I didn't have a related power. But life works in mysterious ways sometimes."

"That it does," James said in quiet agreement. There was a small pause before he spoke again. "So, what changed? About you, I mean. You seem to get around a lot now, being the head farmer and all."

"Met my wife," he said with a chuckle. "She's the one who roped me into farming in the first place. You'll meet her at the party."

"Well, I suppose now I have to go," James said with a small smile.

"Daisy's a real sunny gal," Josiah said, clearly opening up with the mention of his wife. "Small woman, but a big heart. And big voice. You wouldn't believe the voice that woman carries. But she stays at home while I go about the day-to-day. I think she prefers it that way -- taking care of the farm while I make sure the other farmers are taken care of."

"She sounds like a wonderful woman," James said. "I can't wait to meet her."

"I'm sure she'd be happy to see you too," he said, then paused, as he approached his farm in the near distance. "Say, what's your favorite dish? Maybe she'll cook it up for you as a welcome present next week."

"Oh, I don't know about that," James said with a small laugh. "You already have a big party to plan, I wouldn't want to--"

"I insist," Josiah interrupted. "She would badger me about it if I tell her you're coming."

James glanced at Josiah bashfully. "Well. I guess I can't argue with that," he said. He paused for a moment to think as Josiah slowed to a stop near the fence line.

If he remembered correctly, lasagna wasn't exactly a well-known dish (or even a known dish) by Evaline. Now, that could've just been Evaline, but he didn't want to risk saying something Josiah had never heard of.

The only thing he knew for certain was... well...

"I like pesto," he told him. "Doesn't really matter what all you put it with."

"Ah. A classic," he said as he parked the car.

James smiled and nodded as he unbuckled and hopped out of the car with his basket of berries.

"I look forward to next week, then," James said, still smiling. "Until then... I'll try to be less of a stranger."

Josiah nodded over at him with the car still running. "October 10th, 7pm," he said. "In case Isabel has forgotten."

"I'll make sure neither of us miss it," James said, stepping back from the car.

"I look forward to it. But in the mean time, need anything else from me?"

James shook his head. "Nothing comes to mind. But it was good talking to you, Josiah. I'll see you tomorrow morning."

"Pleasure's all mine, James. Have a good rest of the day." And with that, he drove away.

James waited until Josiah had made it out of earshot before he walked into his cottage. There, he slowly took out his berries and washed them, and once he was done, he put them in a bowl, sat out on the front porch steps, and plopped one in his mouth.

It was just as sweet as he'd remembered, but better.

Even though Evaline had adjusted the earthen calendar for Nye dates, James was learning how to keep track of time in Nye's system. It was a Thursday and the fourth day of the fourth seven-day week. Evaline had left that Monday prior, and he'd gone to the greenhouse on a Tuesday. It helped him to explain it to himself, retelling the last week's events so he could get a better grasp of how people on earth understood time. Especially since now, he had an invitation to keep track of.

October 10th at 7pm. Next Sunday. Him and Isabel were supposed to meet at Josiah's house.

He was running through the few things he had to look forward to and keep track of as he worked the fields in the morning, but by about noon, he turned in for the afternoon to get a respite from the heat, eat, and clean up.

Much to his own surprise, he actually cooked himself something, putting in some effort to make it nice. After he ate and read the book on the Genetic war for the hundredth time, he paused to just sit, getting lost in a sea of muddled thought. He ended up staring down at the hand-held mirror sitting on the table. It was facing up, and he caught a glimpse of himself in it.

It was just his forehead. He reached out and dragged it closer, picking up and looking at his face.

He could stand to clean up a little. Look a little less like a man who'd just stepped out of the wilderness.

As a spur of the moment decision, he fetched himself some water, his razor, and propped the mirror up on the table so he could shave. It was so much easier with a mirror. In the past, he'd only had the dim reflection of a pool of water - if that - and he had to rely on feeling more than sight to make sure he got it right. This time, he was able to shave quickly and with ease.

When he was done, he paused for a moment, staring into the mirror at his clean-shaven face.

He looked... younger. And yet, so much older than the last time he'd seen his face this clear.

He shook his head, deciding not to dwell on it or look at himself too closely. He found a tie among his things and tied his hair half-up. His hair wasn't too long, but it was just long enough that it was beginning to get annoying when it'd fall in his face while working. It resulted in a little ponytail that stuck out at the back of his head. He tried not think about how much it reminded him of Liam, and who he used to be during that time.

He set the mirror aside, washed his face, and cleaned up the mess. By the time he was done, he expected to back outside and get back to work. Instead, as he stepped out onto the porch, he saw something coming down the road.

The way it moved and functioned reminded him of Josiah's car, but it looked nothing like it. It was a completely different shape, and it was sleek and shiny, as opposed to boxy and sun-stained. A mix of curiosity and wariness stirred in his stomach as he stayed on his porch.

He watched as the car pulled up just short of the little dirt path that led up to his cottage. Whoever had come, it was clearly to see him. He just didn't know who it was.

The car came to a stop, and then the front door opened.

Melakae stepped out of the vehicle, looking around until she met his gaze.

"Oh, hey!" she said. "Here for your weekly check-in thing. Remember me?"

James started walking towards her to bridge the small gap between them.

"Yeah, I remember," he said with a small smile. "Good to see you, Melakae."

"Pfft. Call me Mel," she said as she opened up the back of the car and started to walk towards it.

James nodded.

"Sure," he said, remembering she didn't know his real (or preferred) name either. "You can call me James."

She had started to lift a small box from the back, but then briefly looked up at him. "Hm? Oh, yeah, right, right. James. How's farm life so far? Everything you dreamed of?"

"I don't know if I dreamed enough of it to compare," he said, finally walking up to stand at the end of the car. "But it's treating me well. It's peaceful and quiet. And this property has a great view of the sunset and sunrise."

At this time, Mel had one box in under one arm, and then a small bag with the other. She closed the back of the car and watch him for a moment.

"Sounds kind of boring, not gonna lie," she said as she walked towards his cottage. "But hey, to each our own, huh? Do you like it here, at least?"

"Yeah," James said with a small nod and a smile. "I assume you want to bring those inside?" he asked.

"One's a gift Evaline told me to fetch for you," she said as her head gestured towards the box. "And the other is food. Hope you're hungry."

"I can always be hungry," he said, following her towards the door. He took a few steps ahead of her to get the door for her, and held it open since her arms were full.

"Why thank you," she said as she stepped inside, but didn't look totally impressed when she glanced around. "Man. Big farm, but small living space. Is this how farmers usually live?"

"Some farmers," he said. "I probably have the smallest house in Terra, but I don't mind it. It's a huge step up from what I'm used to, so though it may seem small to others, it's big to me."

He paused, gesturing to the table where she could set the box down.

Mel also paused just to shoot him a suspicious look, but then walked over to the table and set both the bag and box down.

"Does being a farmer also make you less sassy?" she asked, turning around still with the suspicios look, but also with a smirk.

"I can be sassy again if you'd like me to," James said in a taunting tone.

"I kind of missed Mr. Sassypants," she said. "But Mr. Farmerpants is probably better. Maybe."

"Let me know when you decide," James said, raising his eyebrows a little to give her a look.

"Well, what's the fun in that? It's no fun with you expect it," she said like it was obvious.

"You have a brilliant mind," James said dryly, leaning on the side of the table.

"Was that you being sassy just 'cause?" she challenged with a smile.

"I can be sassy whenever I want to," James challenged back with a smirk. "You just seem to draw it out of me."

Mel half-rolled her eyes with a smile, turning back around to get pull out two containers of food out of the bag.

"Yeah, okay, Mr. Sassy Farmer Man. Terra's really changed you from the guy who couldn't read and didn't like talking."

"You know I was lying about the not being able to read," James said. "Right? It was a joke."

Mel gave him a look over her shoulder. "Huh. Okay. Well, that makes sense. Evaline told me to give you more books, but I didn't 'cause I thought it'd insult you."

James just stared at her and gave her a very slow blink.

"Anyways, do you still want those books?"

"Yes," he said. "If you have them."

"Not with me right now." She smiled mischieviously. "Looks like I'll have to come back tomorrow and bug you again."

"Oh joy," James said in monotone. "So, what's this food you brought?" he asked, looking over at the containers.

Mel nodded and opened them, revealing a healthy variety of options. James had already eaten, but when he looked at the food, he felt his stomach audibly rumble.



Mel giggled when she heard his stomach grumble. "So I guess you're hungry again, huh?"

"Farming just takes a lot out of you," James said straight-faced. "I'm practically dying out here."

She slid the bowl closer to him and then invited herself down to sit on the bench to eat.

"What do you even do out here, anyways? Stare at plants all day?" she asked.

James sat down a foot away from her on the bench and took his bowl. He paused, then got up to go to his shelf, where he'd made a few small wooden drawers for holding things. He pulled out two forks from one of them and walked over, offering her one as he sat back down.

"Oh thanks," she said, taking the fork. "I left in a hurry and forgot, hah."

James nodded, stabbing his food.

"It's fine," he said quickly. "And in order to watch plants grow, you have to plant them first. And then you have to water them, keep pests off of them, fertilize the soil, and a number of other things. There's always something you can find to do. And when I'm not working the fields, I'm usually spending time with Elliot." He paused.

"I... don't know if I ever told you the name of my horse. But anyway, that's his name." He took a bite of food.

"Oh, you did," Mel said after swallowing a bite. "But anyways, you do that all day? Here? Do you ever go anywhere else?"

James waited until he was finished chewing.

"Sometimes I'll talk to Josiah, the head farmer. Or I'll visit my neighbor Isabel," he said. "And I'll ride Elliot further out sometimes."

"Hmmm. Sounds like an old man life," she commented, taking another bite.

"I mean, technically, I sort of am an old man," he said. "You know. Being from the past."

"Aren't you like -- oh. Yeah, that. But it's not like your age is any different." She squinted at him a little. "Did you do something to your hair?"

James looked back at her with a blank expression.

"I shaved," he said flatly.

"Looks nice. Less of a grandpa look."

"High praise," he said as he looked back to his food and piled food on his fork.

"Thank you, thank you," Mel said, her fork ready for another bite. She was about to take it but then paused to talk again. "I was actually going to offer to give you a haircut, but seems that you don't need it."

James blinked slowly with his mouth full of food. He looked over at her and swallowed.

"A haircut?" he asked.

"If you wanted one," she said with a shrug after she finished chewing.

"Do you give haircuts often?" he asked.

"Yeah, actually. I cut a lot of people's hair. Even Evaline's." She took a moment to laugh lightly. "And for free. I should charge people good meals or something."

"I'm not sure I'd be able to pay you that way," James said. "But I could offer something else as compensation."

"Oh?" Mel said as she looked back at him, her interst piqued. "What's that? Plants? Elliot? Wood?"

"Well - if you wanted anything from my garden, I could give you fresh picked food from that," he said. "I don't know if there's anything else you'd want. But Elliot's off limits."

"Awww, a shame," she teased. "But hey, I'll take some Terra food in exchange for a haircut. It's like getting the food from the source. No chance of it rotting by the time I get it," she thought out loud.

"In my personal garden, at the moment I'm growing carrots, potatoes, zuchinni, beets, and shallots," James said. "They're not quite ready for picking, but once they are, they're fair game."

Mel paused again since she took a big bite and had to take some time to swallow it down.

"Tell you what," she said when finished. "How about I come back tomorrow for the books and to cut your hair in time for the Day of Peace. And then I'll be back again for whenever your veggies are ready?"

"Sounds like a deal," James said, giving her a small smile before he returned to eating, taking a big bite.

Mel smiled back, and a silence passed as they ate. James was eating fast, as he found that his stomach still felt an ache of emptiness and hunger. By the time he cleared his bowl, the feeling of being full had only just started to catch up to him. He looked over at Mel, who wasn't quite done eating yet, but noticed that he finished.

"Do you have a bottomless stomach or what?" she joked as she took a hefty bite herself to catch up to him.

"I might," James said. "I have yet to explore those limits."

Mel rolled her eyes and smiled, and spent the next minute clearing her bowl. When finished, she returned his fork and then stashed the empty containers back in the bag.

"I take it you're not a great cook?" she asked as she put away the items.

"It's certainly nothing to brag about," he said.

Mel nodded and stood up, standing over the box. Instead of pulling whatever was inside, she instead focused on the layout of the room.

"Same to how your place is decorated," she commented. "The wooden furniture is nice, but it's still kind of depressing in here."

"You should've seen it when I first arrived," James said. "You would've been utterly destroyed."

She scrunched her nose at the thought. "Probably smelled like rats. 'Cause rats probably did live here."

"It took me a while to clean the whole place out," James said. "And fill it. Still working on that part."

Mel nodded slowly, scanning the place herself. "The drawing is nice," she said as she pointed at the sketch. "Did Evaline draw that for you?"

James nodded. "Yeah."

She walked towards the center of the room, hand on her chin like she was thinking. "Okay, hear me out," she said. "Curtains on the window. More drawings on the wall. An actual bed. A couch. And some more decorations here and there."

James hummed, looking around.

"I can do at least... three of those things," he said. "I made all of the furniture in here. I could make a bed. And curtains shouldn't be hard. As for a couch - well, that might be beyond my current abilities and resources."

"And the drawings," she added.

James shrugged. "The painting on the outside of the house was a collaborative work," he said. "I could probably make something, but it wouldn't be as good as something Evaline could do."

"Oooooooh," she said slowly like she had pieced something together. "You and Evaline drew the flowers."

"Painted the flowers, yes," he corrected.

Mel paused to think for another moment. "Then what if this place is flower themed too?" she asked. "Like -- look at this. Doesn't this make the place a little less dreary?"

Suddenly, a vase of flowers appeared on the table, and plants in pots decorated the room. On top of the shelf, on his side table, and one hanging on the ceiling.

James looked around the room, squinting.

She was right that it looked better. But his mind was currently processing that she'd summoned plants. Unless... it was an illusion. He tried to search his memory for why that felt right.

"You have a point," he said, waiting to see if the plants would stay or disappear.

"As for everything else, I really think if you take my word for it, this place would feel much cozier," she continued on, nodding ahead of her and seemingly able to summon everything she had mentioned before. Extra sketches on the wall, a real bed, a couch, curtains, and other random decorations.

"This is... part of your power, right?" he asked, looking at her out of the corner of his eye as he glanced around the room.

"Hm? Oh, yeah." As soon as she turned around and dropped her concentration, everything that just now appeared suddenly vanished, and his room returned to normal.

"Why do you think I'm good at cutting hair?" she joked. "It's like cutting a picture in my head. But hair."

James nodded slowly.

"Huh. Makes sense."

"Anyways," she said as she brushed off her hands and then walked over to the box again. "Wanna see what Evaline wanted me to give to you? It was so much work getting this thing to you."

"Well if you put it that way," James said, looking to the box and drawing near. "Sure."

Mel stood on her knees on the bench so that she'd have the height to be able to peer over the box and lift the item out without tilting it. She placed it on the table.

"It's a casette player," she announced. "But you know allllll about that, don't ya? Being an old man and all."

"Ha. Ha," James laughed mirthlessly. "I might need a little reminder," he said.



He had no idea what that thing was.

Mel grinned and took out five small, thin black, rectangular shapes out and then set the box aside. She picked one out in particular, pressed a button on the casette player, and then inserted the object.

"If you say so," she said with a smile and shrug, and then pressed another button.

Music started to play.

James knew, in that moment, that he shouldn't have been surprised. She said he was supposed to know what it was, so he couldn't let his shock show. Hiding it it only exasterbated how much it felt like his mind was being torn apart.

The... casette player was a device that could play music? Without people? Or a band? It just... he didn't even...

He had no grid for it.



Mel laughed, getting up on her feet and started to groove to the music next to him, bumping into him with the beat like she was egging him to dance too.

The bump shook him out of how much his mind felt like it was crashing and breaking apart. It brought him back to reality, and he was thankful for it only for that reason. He let out a little laugh and turned to Mel.

This was bizarre. He hardly felt like he was there in the room as the beat of the music built into a chorus, but he decided to just go with it. It was what Liam would do. And Erimor. Maybe Thomas. He just had to pretend he was one of them.

He gave Mel a little bow and started to dance.

Mel laughed again, but not at him -- out of joy. She twirled around the room a few times and continued to move to the rhythm of the beat, singing part of the lyrics. She seemed to be enjoying herself, with or without him, but seemed happy to see him appear to enjoy himself too. That was enough for him to keep going. In some ways, even if he wasn't feeling it at first, dancing did help to shake off some of the anxiety for a moment.

This went on for at least a minute, until Mel danced her way back towards him. He wasn't sure if she wanted to keep going, but he offered his hand for her to take. He felt a little lost dancing by himself. He was used to dancing with other people.

She looked down at his hand for half a second with confusion washed across her face, but then she smiled and took it, instead yanking him to the center of the room so that they could start there. James started leading, following the rhythm of the music, even though the music wasn't quite like anything he'd heard before. It seemed that Mel wasn't an avid dancer, because she seemed to miss some of his signals. She still laughed and seemed to be having fun, though.

He decided to just give a verbal cue instead.

"Twirl," he said with a smile, lifting their hands a little.

She met his eyes for a moment and then did what he asked, albeit a bit sloppily.

"Okay, now you twirl!" she said as she lifted her arm for him to do it himself.

James laughed and obeyed. His twirl was smooth and graceful, and when he came back around he smiled again.

At this point, Mel was singing along with the lyrics and following whatever lead he signaled (and said) her way, but occasionally she went rogue and pulled him in for dramatic effect during certain points of the song.

This went on until the song ended, and the casette player stopped playing anything more.

"Man!" Mel said with a laugh as she let go of his hands. "I knew you could dance, but I didn't think you were that good at it."

James laughed a little as she pulled away, but he drew his eyebrows together.

"You knew?" he asked.

Mel brushed her hair, her grin fading into a small smile as she looked back at James.

"Guessed?" she corrected with a high-pitched voice.

James was quiet for a moment, and he narrowed his eyes at her.

"No, you said knew," he said.

"I think your hearing sucks," Mel said nonchalantly as she headed back to the casette player, brushing him off.

"I know that," James said, still keeping a casual tone, but not letting her off the hook. "But how do you know that?"

"Know what?" Mel said now with a strained smile, clearly playing dumb. She pressed another button on the casette player.

"Mel. You're not being very forthcoming with me," he said, stepping back and sitting down on the bench as he looked at her. "And I can tell."

"I mean, neither have you," she shot back. "And I can tell. So hah."

"Yeah. But you know my reason," he said. "What's yours?"

"My memory is also pretty bad, can you remind me first?"

James only stared at her, slow-blinking. He'd wait. Turned out, she would too. And they were having a staring contest.

"How much has Evaline told you?" he asked, keeping it vague. Enough that he could play around it and connect it to the story everyone in the committee already knew. It would sound like he was caving, but he had lies to fall back on.

Mel seemed pleased that he seemed to succumb first. "Hard to know how much if I don't have a reference point," she commented.

"I think you do," James said, his tone becoming just a little less friendly. Unamused.

"Why are you even asking me?" she asked innocently. "Don't you know the full story already?"

"Of course I do. I want to know what you know," he emphasized.

Mel hummed. "How about we make a deal?"

"Depends on what the deal is," James said.

"Come to the committee's Day of Peace party," she said. "It's on October 10th."

"I already have plans," James said. "I was invited to a party here."

"What time is that one?"

"7pm," James said.

"Well, lucky for you, the committee's Day of Peace party is kind of lame and starts at noon." She gave him a quick look-down. "I'm guessing you wouldn't come to the after party anyways, though."

"If you want to make a deal, maybe try a little harder not to insult me," James said cooly.

Mel smiled and then poked his shoulder a few times. "Theeeeere he is," she said smugly, and then picked up the empty box on the floor. "So, you accept?"

"You never mentioned what you would give in exchange for me going," James said, still not giving her anything to indicate he would go or not.

"I'll answer whatever questions you want," she said simply. "Promise."

"Will you answer them truthfully?" he asked, looking her square in the face.

Mel pretended to be shocked and looked betrayed. "Ouch! Your words! They.... hurt!" she said dramatically, crumpling on to the bench until her head gently hit the table.

James leaned over towards her, still looking into her eyes.

"That wasn't a yes," he said.

Mel then sat up straight, finally meeting his eyes to see that he was serious.

"Yes, of course I will," she said. "I wouldn't lie to you."

James looked at her with an intense, three-second stare as he was calculating the sincerity of her words and how much he would trust them. So far, she'd given him no reason not to trust her, even if she was constantly joking around and making jabs at him. That seemed to just be part of her personality, or at least, how she interacted with people like him.

He knew she knew something, and he knew he should take the offer. It was weighted in his favor. All he was doing was going to a party. He could survive that. Even if it was awkward.

He took in a deep breath and held out his hand towards her.

"Fine. Deal," he said. "I go to the Day of Peace Party at noon on the 10th, and you answer my questions with no hint of deciet and full transparency."

Mel grinned and eagerly took his hand, shaking it far too many times for a proper handshake. James shook it back firmly, but he pried his hand away after a few too many seconds of shaking.

"Yep," she said. "And I'll be back tomorrow for more stuff, so don't miss me too much." She picked up the empty box and placed her bag in it.

"Wait--" he said, getting to his feet. "You still haven't answered my question."

"Oh, right," Mel said as she held everything with one arm and then pointed around the casette player. "Press here to play, pause, and stop. This button to rewind. See, look, I'll rewind it now--"

James reached out before she could finish, putting his hand over hers.

"How did you know I could dance?" he asked firmly.

She looked up at him, her eyes softening a little before she looked away and pulled away her hand.

"I thought you already figured that out," she said. "Evaline told me."

That had been his assumption. But he wanted to hear it from her.

"When?"

That would answer more questions all in one.

Mel sighed. "If I answer this, can you save the rest for later? Until after the party?"

James pressed his lips into a thin line and took in a slow, steady breath.

"Only if you promise to keep your word," he said.

"I promise," she said, sounding more serious. "I don't break promises." She paused for a moment, pressing more buttons on the casette player. "And I don't know, a long time ago. Four, five years ago maybe?"

So that was it, then.

"So you know this whole thing is bullshit, then," he said.

Mel seemed to fail to repress a smile, but she pursed her lips and pretended to be in thought. "I think you're outta questions," she said instead.

"I'll take that as a yes," he said, looking back down at the casette. There was a brief pause. It was only a few seconds that passed, but he knew someone had to break the tension.

"So... does that mean I can't ask you how the casette player works, then?" he asked. "I didn't let you finish."

Mel smiled. "Yeah. Okay, so like I said before..."

She spent the next few minutes explaining what each button meant, and how he had to rewind each tape -- the black boxes -- each time he finished playing them. She also showed him the other remaining tapes, and how to put it into the casette as well as how to eject it.

"That's about it," she said. "There's also an old radio transmitter, but you'll probably only pick out static out here. Oh, and it's battery powered, so I dunno how much battery is left. I think there's supposed to be someone here who can charge it up for you when it dies, though."

"Someone here as in, someone in Terra?" James asked. "Or..."

"Yeah, someone in Terra," she said as she powered down the casette. "I mean, how else would this place be powered?" She then glanced around his room again. "Not that you'd know. But anyways. Someone here should be able to do it."

"I... was under the assumption that this property didn't have the same... er... technology as most of the others. I was told it was outdated."

Mel laughed. "Yeah, I can see that. I'm talking about the rest of Terra. Evaline really put you in an outdated place to make you seem more like an old man, huh? Tsk tsk."

He didn't think that was her goal. He just rolled his eyes at that comment.

"Okay. So. Someone here has..."

"Electric powers," she finished for him.

"Thank you. Electric powers. And they would do me a favor because..."

"...You asked them?"

James looked at her blankly, and then slightly narrowed his eyes. Then he closed them and sighed.

"What?" she asked innocently. "You don't like asking people for favors? People can be nice, ya know."

"That's what I'm still getting used to," he said with another sigh, looking out his window to avoid eye contact.

"Lucky for you, I'm a bundle of nice," she said with a smile as she stepped into his line of sight anyways. "How about I help you figure out who to ask, and I'll be there with you for the introduction? Maybe tomorrow?"

"That's saving a whole lot for tomorrow," he said.

"Oh, sorry, I forgot you're too busy staring at plants," she murmured, already heading towards the door. "I'll just not come back."

James slow blinked at her. Again.

"You come tomorrow. I get books. We talk to electric person."

"And you get a haircut. And new outfits," she added, already at the door.

"New outfits so you're not embarassed to be associated with me at the party?" he asked, following behind her.

Mel opened the door and already started to walk out. "It'll be real fun tomorrow," she said, ignoring his question. "Maybe I'll bring more food so that your stomach can grow some more."

"Ambitious."

"More like delicious," she said instead with a grin, walking up to the car and opening the car door. "I'll be here... 10am? Does that sound good? Or do you sleep in til noon?"

"I'll be awake," James said straight-facedly.

"Oh, yay, I'll catch you doing farm work. You know. Staring at the plants out there."

"So much for you to look forward to," James said, still deadpanning.

Mel laughed and half-rolled her eyes, throwing the box in and putting one foot inside.

"Alrighty. See ya tomorrow, James!" she said, getting in the car and then shutting the door.

James waved her off, keeping his distance from the car as it reversed and went down the same path. It was hard to see because of the sunlight reflecting off the windows, but she waved back at him before she left his sight and drove away.

He couldn't help but feel a pit in his stomach when she disappeared. He didn't move from his spot for quite some time. He just stood there, staring off into the distance.

Melakae knew. How many other people knew? It couldn't be that many. Was it just Mel? Was there anyone else?

Just how much had Evaline told her?

Everything? Before she'd suppressed it and forgotten?

James wouldn't know until after the party. That was three days away.

He told himself he could wait. Because he had to wait. He'd waited for five years. For four weeks. A month. He could wait more.

But now he didn't know if he could handle the answers. If he'd been told everything on the front end, maybe he could've just ripped off the bandage and figured out a way to recover.

But after a month of pushing it all aside, he felt like he was fading away again. Again. After he told himself he would stop putting on a mask and just stay alone forever. As if that was even a realistic goal.

James slowly turned towards the barn, entering in and standing in the doorway. Elliot was standing in there, without a care in the world, enjoying the shade. Relaxed, and oblivious. But when James drew near, Elliot seemed to know that he was hollow again. He had been for a while. Maybe he always was, and he was just fooling himself.

There was a different face for everyone. For Mel. For Evaline. For Isabel and Josiah. For every other person before Earth.

James hugged Elliot's head to his face. There were no tears, this time. He couldn't muster them up like this. Not if he wanted them to be real. And he wanted them to be real.

"I'm going to be stuck here forever," James whispered. "Aren't I?"

The thought overwhelmed him.

James had made it a point to get everything he wanted to get done finished before 10am came around. At 9:30am he was back in his cottage, clean, wearing a fresh pair of clothes, and the fields were taken care of. Elliot was tied out in the field again, where he could graze and walk around.

He'd been up since 3am. He had tried to sleep more, but he gave up and decided to get to work. When he finally stopped moving, he sat down at his table, looking at the casette player again.

He had some time to kill, and he wasn't going to spend it in agonizing silence.

He picked up a casette tape titled "We Intertwined." It was the one Mel had put in yesterday. Since he had no idea what the contents of any of the casettes were, he looked the others over. All he had were titles to go by.

There was World Spins Madly On, La Vie En Rose, There Will Be Time, and one that was untitled.

He hummed.

He put the untitled one in and hit play.

He immediately recognized it to be Evaline's voice.



James sat frozen still as the song went on. He stared blankly out in front of him as he grabbed on to every word of the song, clinging to every note like a blind man in the dark, and when it was all over, he didn't move. He heard the casette tape click, telling him it was over.

That was Evaline. Singing. Playing. Did she send that with Mel? When did she record it? Did she write it herself?

He knew the song was a message. He knew it from the first line. He just couldn't wrap his head around the entirety of the meaning yet.

It was the first time he'd ever heard her play the piano. He'd forgotten that she'd ever offered to show him, if she had.

He abruptly moved from his frozen state and hit rewind. Play again. He listened to it over and over, forgetting about the passage of time, absorbed in the song. A knock on the door made his heart leap out of his chest. His eyes went wide and he immediately hit the stop button, then eject. He pulled the casette tape out, set it with the others, and scrambled to his feet to answer the door.

"Helloooo, Jaaaames?" Mel called from behind the door. "Am I interrupting farm chores? Isn't farming supposed to be outside?"

He pulled the door open.

"I got it done before you came," he said, intentionally not saying it too quickly, even though his heart was still pounding.

"Oh, really?" she said as she looked behind her. She was carrying a container, presumably of food. "You must really be bored all the time if you can finish before the day barely started."

"Yes. Bored. Bored out of my mind. It's my saving grace that you're here," he said.

Mel smirked and raised a brow. "Gee, I wish I could be more entertaining. Can I come in?"

James backed away with a bow of his head and held the door open for her. She walked in and headed for the table like this was a normal everyday occurence for her.

"I brought you brunch," she said as she sat down. "Hungry?"

It occured to James that while he had gotten a lot done through the early hours of the night and morning, he had completely forgotten to eat.

"Yes," he said, sitting down beside her, though giving her reasonable space.

"Thought so."

Mel handed him a thick, circular wrap made from a tortilla. James could feel his stomach do a flip again, but gratefully it wasn't as vocal this time.



He gratefully took it with a nod and bit right into it. Mel smiled and then looked at the casette player next to her. They ate in silence for a little bit before she broke it.

"So, did you listen to all the songs while you were bored?" she asked.

James's mouth was full, but his wrap was only two bites away from being gone. He wished he'd eaten slower to buy time.

"Not all of them," he said through a mouthfull.

"You eat so damn fast," she mumbled instead as she tried to eat faster.

"Sorry," he said after he swallowed, looking down at his food. "I'm just hungry."

"Do you want more?" she asked.

James paused. "If you have more."

"You can have my second half." She slid it over to him.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm not a farmer, so my stomach isn't infinitely sized like yours," she said.

James wanted to refuse, but his stomach disagreed. He took her half with a grateful nod and threw the last bite of his in his mouth.

They ate in silence for the remainder of the meal, which admittedly, wasn't long since she only had her one half, and James was still scarfing down his food. By the time they both finished, Mel let out a satisfied "ahhhh" and then lifted her arms to stretch.

"You really should eat more, you know," she said to him. "I can't come in everyday to feed you."

"I do eat," he said quickly.

"Eat more."

James didn't like how uncomfortable he suddenly felt.

"Okay, boss," he replied back, thick with sass.

Mel scoffed, giving him a pointed but amused look. "Please. I'm hardly your boss. I'm probably your best friend instead."

"Tell that to Isabel," James said.

"Oh! Speaking of which, I found out who the electric power dude is," she said as she brushed away the crumbs on the table and put the lid on the container. "Joe-something. He's the guy in charge of the place."

James stared at her for a moment before he closed his eyes and let out a quick laugh.

"Of course," he said. "Of course it's Josiah. At least that makes my life easier."

"Yeah, that's the guy!" She paused as his words started to sink in. "Wait, so... you've met him already."

"I'm going to his Day of Peace party," James said. "Yes, I've met him."

"Oooooh. Well, I guess that means you don't need another re-introduction?"

"No. That won't be necessary," James said with a slight smile.

Mel glanced around the room. "Maybe you can ask him to electrify your place so you don't live like a sewer rat."

James tilted his head to the side and raised his eyebrows while blinking.



"You know, I was actually thinking of adding some rats. I need the company," he said, staring at her.

Mel stared at him back, her face twitching a little. "Ew," was all she said.

"Now you can go tell your friends you hang out with a rat," James added.

"Yeah, maybe I will," she said with a laugh at the back of her throat. "But then Evaline's kitty will hunt you. So we can't have that."

James smiled, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. He squinted at her.

"That would be tragic, for sure."

"Mmmhmmm." She stood up, hands on her hips. "Well, if you don't need to meet this Josiah fella, then I've got a place I want to show you."

James got to his feet. "Alright then," he said. "Where are we going?"

Mel grabbed the container and headed for the door. "Outside of Terra. To the place I'll have you grab the books, 'cause I dunno what you want to read."

"So... like a library? Or..."

"Ehhhh." She opened the door, this time gesturing for him to go out first even though he was the one who lived there. "You'll see."

"I suppose I will," he said as he walked out.

"Wanna drive?" she said with a grin as she shut the door. "Aren't you like, supposed to be an expert in all things cars, since you're from that era?"

James snorted.

"Funny," he said dryly.

"See, I can be funny too," she said proudly as she opened the door to the car and entered. "Hop in."

He did so, entering in on the passenger side. Even though the car was much different from Josiah's, it still seemed to have the same overall function. It had a seatbelt, and similar doors, and windows to see around them.

"Don't forget your seatbelt," she said as she strapped the belt across her chest and then started the car. It was a lot quieter than Josiah's and seemed to barely make any sounds.

James put his seatbelt on quickly, and then looked over to Mel who had already begun driving away. Slowly, going about the same speed Josiah went during his ride with him.

"Is this your first time being outside of Terra since coming in?" she asked.

James looked out the passenger side window at the land passing by.

"Yes," he said. He wasn't sure if he should be embarassed by that or not. Josiah had given him the impression that it was concerning.

"Oooooo, exciting. Feels like I'm kidnapping you somewhere."

"I wouldn't know where to go if I did leave anyway," he commented.

Mel paused for a moment as she took a turn down away from his farm. "Did you consider leaving?"

"I thought about it," he said plainly.

"That'd be dumb," she said. "Lots of people want to live in Terra for a reason. I dunno why you'd settle for less."

Maybe because less felt normal, and more like what he deserved, anyway.

"Are you saying I should never leave Terra at all? Like now?" he asked.

"No," she said calmly. "Just more surprised you considered leaving when you've only been here for, like, a month. Does it suck that much for you?"

James was quiet for a moment.

"No," he said. "It's just very different."

"Everything is different at first," she offered. "Doesn't mean you should run away from it."

"I know," he said a little quieter, still staring out the window.

Mel glanced at him. "I'm sure there are some familiarities, though, right?"

James propped his arm elbow on the car door and rested his chin in his palm as he continued to look out.

"Yeah. People are still people," he said.

"And Elliot's a horse," Mel added on.

"And plants are still plants."

"And you're still stating obvious things."

"I could do this all day," he said.

Mel groaned. "Please, spare me."

James laughed a little in the back of his throat, but it was a tired little laugh.

"Okay," he said softly.

There was a small bout of silence before Mel talked again. James could see that the gate coming up in the distance.

"Is there anything you miss?" she asked. "You know, to make things more familiar and less different in your farm?"

James hummed.

"I miss knowing the land, and the stars," he said softly.

And he almost missed the trouble that followed him.

"But that just takes time," he said. "Nothing you can do about it."

"The stars, huh?" Mel repeated in thought. "How's it different?"

James looked at the gate as they rolled up to it.

"They're in different places," he said, giving a low-effort answer. "And they look different."

Mel gave him a funny look, but was preoccupied by the gate as they slowly rolled to a stop. She rolled down her front window as a guard bent down to look at them.

She smiled and set her elbow over the window. "Hey, Jack," she said in a sultry voice. "Miss me already?"

The guard, Jack, was waring a mask but appeared to be well-built and could easily take down the two of them if they caused any trouble.

"Just bring him back before sundown," he said gruffly, patting the car and motioning for them to go ahead as the gate slowly opened.

"Thanks, Jacky!" Mel teased as she grinned and rolled the window back up. She drove the car forward, and they passed the gate, officially out of Terra.

"So, where were we," she murmured. "Oh, right. Stars are placed differently. Is that like a metaphor?"

"I actually meant it quite literally," James said. "But I suppose it could be a metaphor for something else too."

"Oh yeah, like what?"

James slowly turned to look over at her, but he was too tired to give her a look of annoyance. He just looked tired.

"I don't know, maybe the fact that all of the social nuances here are different and society is different and even though people are still people, there's a lot of things I'm still having to catch up on to understand," he said.

"Whoo-o-o-o-a there," she stretched out, glancing at him but still focused on the path ahead of them. She was driving towards a road in the distance, slowly gaining speed as they left the woods.

"Hold your horses. That's an old phrase you used back then, right? Hah." She smiled and paused for a moment. "It's been a while since you've seen others and been anywhere, you know, with people and civilization. It takes some time to get up to speed, but you can always ask me something if you're confused."

James was quiet for a moment and didn't reply right away. He might take her up on her offer to ask questions, but he didn't know how safe she was to just ask anything yet.

"What do you mean... an old phrase I used back then?" he asked.

Mel shrugged. "You have a horse, don't you?"

Hold your horses. James might've used it at some point five years ago, but he didn't think it was that memorable. At least, not for him. Maybe it was enough for Evaline to remember, since horses were new to her in the first place.

"Yeah, okay," he said dismissively. "I get it now."

At this point, Mel was cruising down the road, going fairly fast. Much, much faster than what he was used to on Elliot, but it was a fairly smooth ride. The only indication of their speed was the surroundings they passed behind.

"Since you have a horse, can I start to unironically say all the horse sayings?" she asked, but didn't wait to hear his answer. "Like, would it be bad if I asked you, 'Hey, are you so hungry, you could eat a horse?' Or would that offend Elliot?"

"Maybe don't say it in front of Elliot," James said in deadpan. "He's sensitive. Might take it too personally."

"What about 'don't beat a dead horse'? Would that also offend him?"

"On behalf of all of his horse friends, it might be best to steer clear of sayings that include horse violence," he said.

Mel giggled. "You're right. What will Elliot do once he finds out he has no more horsie friends?"

"I suppose he'll just have to make friends with cows and donkeys," James said with a sigh. "You still have those, right?"

She shrugged. "Probably. I'm not the expert here. Aren't you supposed to know that, being a farmer and all?"

James glanced at Mel.

"I don't know, aren't you supposed to know what's going on since you're from here?" he asked back.

Mel glanced back.

"Why are you making me sound like an alien?" she said, squinting ahead. "I mean, we're not that different, I guess, you and I. The only difference is that I actually lived in the sectors for a couple years."

James didn't really feel like talking about the sectors at the moment. The more he kept dropping hints that he wasn't from earth, the more they seemed to be going over her head.

He wondered if maybe... She somehow heard about him through Evaline, but also believe he was from the past. Maybe Evaline had spun it that way years ago, so that she wouldn't sound as crazy? But... then that would've meant that either she went back in time, or she undid their time, or something...

He couldn't figure all of that out. He didn't know. And trying to piece it together gave him a headache.

"I didn't mean to make it sound like that," James said, pausing to take in a deep breath.

If she didn't know he was from another world, then there was no use trying to hint at it. He would just have to treat her like everyone else.

Well, everyone except Evaline, who knew the whole truth about where he was from.

"Sorry," he apologized. "I didn't mean to sound so sour. I'm just... I guess I'm still getting used to being around people."

Like she'd already said.

"Hey, that's alright," Mel said a little too cheerily. "Are you looking forward to the Day of Peace? What, with two parties back-to-back? You're already real popular."

James scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"Oh yeah. Real popular," he said.

She paused for a moment. "Hey, what's your favorite flower?" she asked out of the blue.

James blinked, and looked back over to her.

"...Why?" he asked, his voice raising in pitch.

"Can't a gal ask questions to get to know her new friend?" Mel replied innocently.

James pursed his lips and looked at her closely before sighing.

"Daisies," he said flatly.

Mel hummed. "Daisies," she repeated. "I like sunflowers. They're kind of like daisies."

"But bigger," James said. "Sunflowers are nice too. What do you like about them?"

"Reminds me of sunshine and the sun," she said with a smile. "Why do you like daisies?"

James nodded. "A good reason."

"Hey, what kind of songs do you like? I can play some music." She started to press a few buttons in front of her.

It took James a moment to realize that she didn't mean she'd be playing an instrument. It registered after she started pressing buttons. She was going to play something now, from the machine in the car. He had to assume it functioned similarly like a casette player, but it didn't look like there were casettes. At this point, he wouldn't be surprised if it didn't need anything at all, since Mel had said the casette player was old technology.

"Uh..." James started. He had to think.

"Something... calm?" he proposed.

He wasn't sure if he should attempt to describe what kind of music he enjoyed. He didn't know if they had stuff like that on earth. Maybe they did, but he didn't know their name for it.

"Uhhh, sure, I can do calm," Mel murmured as she pressed a few buttons. "Let's see..."

Music then started to echo around him. Just a simple guitar strumming with someone singing. But it emanated around the car, and he wasn't sure where the source was exactly.

"How's that?" she said.

James found himself looking around the car. Not abruptly, though. He was trying to be subtle.

"Fine," he said. "It sounds nice."

Mel smiled and then sang along with the lyrics, not picking up conversation with him for the rest of the ride, and letting the songs fill the silence between them. She didn't seem to be the type to sit in silences, but she didn't seem to mind letting music fill the gap. James was glad that they didn't have to talk, though. Music was fine.

About 40 minutes passed, and she took an exit out of the main road as she started to slow down a bit. Still, she continued to hum along, until about 5 more minutes passed, and she slowed down to a small cottage in the woods.

"We're here!" she announced, turning off the car and unbuckling her seatbelt to leave. "Finally."

James took off his seatbelt and stepped out the car door, closing it behind him as he looked around. The cottage looked to be around the same size as his, but it looked older and not occupied. In fact, it looked like it hadn't been occupied in quite some time. The paint was chipped away, and vines covered the roof and the siding. They appeared to be away from any hint of civilization since they were in the middle of the woods.

Mel stood in front of the cottage, hands on her hips. "Been a while since I've been here," she mused as she went through her bag, presumably to look for the keys.

When she found it, she opened the door and coughed as dust filled the air. She reached for the wall until she flipped a switch, and a dusty lightbulb filled the room with light.

It wasn't exactly a library, and it wasn't exactly a house. It was... almost like a dumping ground for random things. The place was crammed and had a small kitchen and living area, and a white sheet that covered many furniture items around the room. Around the room were boxes of stacked on top of one another. There was also a large bookshelf that lined one wall.

"Hmmm. Help me get rid of these sheets," Mel said as she started to tear down some of the sheets, revealing non-dusty furniture underneath.

James followed suit and started taking sheets off, revealing chairs, a couch, a table, a bed, more boxes, a piano, and a large body-sized mirror.

"There!" Mel said with a smile, lifting back the curtains to let the sunlight in. "Now this place is more lively. You should really take some lessons."

"Already taking notes," James said in monotone as he dumped the rest of the sheets where Mel had put them in a corner.

Mel pointed at the bookshelf. "You can take whatever books you want from there. Feel free to put everything you want in one of the boxes." She paused, frowning. "I have hair cutting equipment here somewhere... Can you help me look for it? It's probably in one of the boxes."

James nodded and started looking through boxes, opening them up and peering in.

Mel, however, started to back away to the door. "I have to pick up a bunch of clothes for you," she said. "Picked out by yours truly. They're at my family's place, not too far away, so I'll be quick. Are you good here by yourself for a little bit?"

James looked up from one of the boxes, which only had stacks of old papers in it.

"I'll be fine," he said. "You go on ahead."

"Mmmkay. I'll cut your hair when I come back. See ya in a bit!" she said before she waved and left the room.

James glanced out the window, watching as Mel's car pulled away and drove off down the road. Then he turned back around and looked at all of the boxes sitting around. He moved the box of papers to get to one underneath it, and looked inside.

It was books and books of sheet music, all for the piano. He glanced back at the piano. He didn't know how to play, or how to read. Since he didn't think Mel would be back too soon, he stopped to flip through them curiously, mostly skimming titles of songs and lyrics if there were any. He noticed that some were circled and starred.

He was sure there were other pianists around, but he couldn't help but think of Evaline, and the song he just heard only an hour ago now. He wondered if any of these were hers, or if she had ever played the piano in the cottage.

He sat down, flipping through different books. Sometimes stopping to look more closely, and other times just flipping through it quickly. There were some notes in the margins, but they appeared to be too smudged with time to read, and it looked like there were different types of handwritings. Multiple people must have had access to these books in the past. They might've been handed down to different people, or shared.

He went on to the next box. He couldn't help but feel like some of the handwriting in the books might've been Evaline's, but he was probably just trying to find things that weren't there.

At first, the next box only had blankets and then a tarp. But when he pulled those items out, he felt the feeling return from the previous box, because he was looking at paintings.

One was painting of the view outside the cottage. It looked like it was painted in the springtime, since things were a little more colorful, with some flowers outside, and things being a vibrant green. There was also another painting that looked like it was from the area of a sunset in the forest, with the silhouettes of shadowed trees. Another painting was a still life of some wildflowers in a vase.

Beneath the paintings, there was a stack of papers, and they looked like sketches. He picked them up and started sifting through them.

On top was as sketch of Ellie, Evaline's big cat.

Puzzle pieces were starting to fall into place.

The next sketch was of more flowers, some butterflies, and a collection of rocks and bushes. The next was a sketch of Mel smiling. The rest... well, there was a lot of paper that had been scribbled over and torn apart into pieces. Even though they were torn apart, he could piece a few of them together.

It looked like a lot of the scribbled out papers were... sketches of places from Nye. And at the bottom of the box, it looked like... the sketches were of him.

He quickly put the papers back, and the paintings back as closely to how it looked before as possible.

Mel had to know what she was doing when she asked him to look around. But it wasn't his right to snoop through Evaline's personal things. For all he knew - and he was probably right - Evaline probably lived in this cottage at some point. With a huff of frustration aimed at a person who wasn't even present (Mel) he closed the box and put the other box of sheet music back on top of it where it belonged.

Were hair cutting supplies even in any of the boxes?

He pressed his lips together in a thin line as he checked the next box, only giving a quick look this time, just to determine if it was what he was actually looking for or not.

It wasn't hair cutting supplies.

It was Evaline's journal. From Nye. Or what was left of it.

It looked like she had torn many of the pages out, leaving it strewn around the box. The spine of the journal looked like it was on the brink of collapse.

James didn't want to look at it for too long, but he hadn't expected to find her journal. He stood frozen for far too long as he just stared at it, trying not to let the increasing dread sink in.

Finally, he blinked and shook his head, closing the box quickly. He just needed to find godsdamned haircutting supplies. Not Evaline's personal belongings when she wasn't even here to consent to him seeing them.

James opted to go to the other side of the room to sift through those boxes instead, and he found various supplies and books. He noted that many of the books were oddly themed of space, life outside the universe, and pseudoscience. He wasn't stupid. He could see remnants of her story. Of the last five years, and the fallout of after she had woken up in just a few objects, and it made his heart sink into his stomach.

[REDACTED BAD WORD] Mel.

Finally, finally, he found the damn hair cutting tools at the bottom of clothes in a box. He pulled them out and set them on the table, and then packed the clothes back in the box, closing it up again.

With a sigh, he fell back onto the couch, sinking into it. He stared up at the ceiling with a blank expression and took in a deep breath, trying to let his mind wander into emptiness. He focused on his breathing, and the texture of the ceiling, and the way the light came through the windows in little shafts. How there was still a hint of dust floating in the air, which he could only see in the sunlight, and how there was a cobweb in the corner of the ceiling, where the bookshelf met it.

It smelled musty, like the windows hadn't been opened in a long time, and the air was stale. He tried to imagine, at some point, the room being filled with the sounds of the piano.

He closed his eyes, but all he could imagine was that song.

He rolled his eyes back into his head and muttered in a Nye tongue - not that anyone was around to hear or care - and leaned forward, getting to his feet. He walked over to the front windows and found the latch to unlock them, and then, with some shimmying, pried them open to let in some air. Then he found an empty box and set it at the foot of the bookshelf.

Just pick some books, he told himself. There were some books on technology, and he found a few that looked more generic. He didn't need to understand everything in depth. He just needed to know what the hell things were even called.

He laid them in the box.

There were also a few books on old earth history - before the genetic wars, and apparently even before the time he was supposed to be from. Out of curiosity, he decided to snag a few. One was about the "Wild West," which felt familiar for some reason. He felt like Evaline had referenced that in the past when talking about him. Maybe it would help him finally understand other people's references too.

There were some books with pictures of nature, and while they were interesting, he didn't see them as a priority. There was one about local plants, florals, and fauna though, and he thought that one relevant enough to put in the box. Being a "farmer" and all. He also found one that seemed to have a few star charts in it. It was about space, and seemed educational. He added it to the box too.

He noticed a few guides on music theory, but when he glanced down at the books he'd already collected, he figured music theory was low on the list of things he needed to learn at the moment. Besides, it wasn't like he had anything to play, anyway.

He continued to skim the shelves. He spotted a few fiction books, and though he wouldn't have minded some fiction, he didn't know if he'd have the space. He was trying to pick only things he needed or that would be useful to him in this new world. Maybe knowing classic stories would help, but he could always use the excuse that he didn't read a lot of stories anyway, which wasn't that far from the current truth.

Finally his eyes landed on what looked like a matching set of five books. French...? It said something about learning languages. He pulled out the first book and looked it over.

This was Evaline's place. She'd said she'd learned a dead language, but there wasn't really anyone to speak and practice with.

He stared down at the book in his hand, looked back up at the rest of the set, then looked back down at it. Thinking.

It... wasn't exactly a priority need. But maybe it would prove useful in building his bullshit backstory. He could say he spoke french... provided that nobody looked at what he was reading.

He made a face, only to himself. That wasn't a great lie. He pursed his lips and looked again from the books, to the box.

To hell with it. He put them all in the box.

At that point, he had about a dozen books collected, and he figured that was more than enough to keep him busy on quiet nights or nights he couldn't sleep. He carried the box over to the table, set it down, and closed it. He had no idea how long Mel would be, but he was starting to feel like "close by" meant something very different to Mel.

He looked back around the cottage. He had to kill time somehow, but he didn't know how long Mel would be, and if he left the cottage, he could risk missing her. Or at worst, worrying her. And he didn't need all of that fuss.

Though he couldn't help but consider how easy it would be to just... go off into the woods and get lost. He wondered if it would be easy to hide, or if Mel somehow knew this area like the back of her hand. Or, more likely, if Evaline did. Or even someone else who would eventually track him down, and then he'd have to explain himself, and Evaline would probably have to cover for him, and it would be a whole situation.

James sighed as he stood by the table and then looked across the room.

He wandered over to the piano, and he plopped down on the bench. He started poking at the keys, trying to get an idea for what keys made what sounds. It sounded like the piano was a little out of tune, like it'd been neglected for some time. Though it was out of tune, though, it almost sounded like it was out of tune with itself.

He hit a few keys at once, trying to find a chord. He didn't know how to play, but he felt like he could at least navigate toying around. The chord he created was dissonant, and he couldn't tell if it was because of the improper tuning or just because he had no idea what he was doing.

He started picking out a melody, note by note. It was faintly coming back to him. A song he used to play two years ago. For a short period of time, when he was able. It took a lot of trial and error, but he was able to finally play it, slowly. It sounded a little different on a dissonant piano, but the familiar melody was like a temporary balm.

At least, it was. Until he heard what sounded like the scuffling of little feet. Shuffling. A faint squeak. He grimaced the moment he heard it, and stopped playing as he glanced back to see the source.

Rats. Or mice. He was about to find out.

On quiet feet, he snuck over to the boxes, listening closely. He heard another squeak, and what sounded like clawing against a box. Digging, or gnawing through it. He got back to the box that had Evaline's journal in it and threw open the flaps of the lid, and he indeed, saw a small mouse. Under the journal there were a few dozen loose pages, torn out, and the mouse was chewing through one of them like it was breakfast.

At least, it was. Until they made eye contact.

He smacked his hand down, but the mouse was too fast. It squeezed out of the small hole in the corner of the box, going out the way it came. It disappeared within seconds, and James looked back down at the journal, and the pages beneath it.

It looked like the mouse had nibbled on the edge and... eaten through almost half a page.

He frowned. Clearly, Evaline hadn't wanted to rid of the journal entirely if she still had it around, sitting in storage. He carefully pulled out the page to quickly glimpse and see how much was lost. It was then that he realized the mouse hadn't eaten through half the page. The page had been torn in half. And so had all of the other pages sitting loosely in the box.




His eyes caught on every other line.

Scared.

Already love him.

Companionship?

...role of an emotionless husk--

He pinched his eyes shut and cursed loudly, practically throwing the piece of paper back into the box.

"It's none of my--" he started to say, but he cut himself off with his own hiss-growl of frustration. For just a second, he brought his hands up to his face, meeting his fingertips just above the bridge of his nose as he closed his eyes and took in a deep, sharp breath.

"First of all," he started saying out loud, speaking to himself. "I have no idea when those were written, but it looks like it was probably years ago because of the weathered pages. And I didn't even read the whole thing in its full context, so it would be wrong of me to draw any conclusions based off of--"

As he glanced down into the box, his eyes caught on the note.

The note. Sticking out of the journal, as a bookmark, just like it five years ago.

It was then that it occured to him that while no time had passed for Evaline when she'd woken up, somehow, the journal from Nye had come back with her.

"How the ████!" he almost shouted, but pulled his voice back at the last second, not sure if Mel was there yet. He quickly glanced out the window, seeing no cars in sight, and then - with his face pinched up, already regretting his actions as he did them - he pulled out the journal from the box and ripped out the note from the pages, unfolding it.

The note itself looked exactly the same, just like he'd remembered it. Unlike all of the loose pages of the journal, this sole piece of paper looked like it hadn't aged a day. Like it was indestructable.

But as he unfolded it, something else fell out from the fold. Another piece of paper. It fluttered to the ground before he could catch it. He paused, looking at the note in his hands, at the same three verses, staring back at him like they were taunting him.

He set the journal back in the box, but kept the note in his hand as he bent down to pick up the paper he'd dropped. It didn't look like another page ripped out of the journal. As he picked it up, he had an uneasy feeling stir in his stomach. The paper felt familiar. It was the same kind of paper as the note.

Dread and anxiety started to pool in his stomach as he stared down at it. It was still folded up. There were no words on the outside.

Hesitantly, with slightly shaking hands, he unfolded the piece of paper.

The new note.



And he knew Evaline hadn't written it, because it was in the exact same pen and ink handwriting as the other note.

James could feel the beating of his heart pounding in his head. A wave of nausea swept over him, and he stumbled over to the couch, practically falling backward into it. He leaned forward and flung both notes to his feet, and buried his face in his hands. The nausea didn't fade, and his heartrate kept pounding quickly, like gallopping hooves beating against the dirt.

It was happening again, but to him this time. And the note was even less forward than the last, as if it was written to be deciphered, and interpreted, because whatever had written it couldn't just say what it meant.

Everything felt wrong. Evaline's cottage. The forest. The faint tweets of birds somewhere outside. It all felt like a sick dream, and as the thought passed through his mind he couldn't help but feel the sudden tug of drowsiness, like it was beckoning him to sleep to escape.

He shook his head, trying to shake it off. A sleep-deprived headache came upon him just as quickly, and it fought its way to the front of his face, with a building pressure behind his eyes. Okay, so maybe it was the beginning of a migraine. He groaned and rubbed his face, letting himself close his eyes for just a moment...

He was looking through the eyes of someone else. The room was dark, but then the person struck a match and held it out. They were in the cottage, but from the brief few seconds he could see, the cottage looked different. In use. Not abandoned. Someone was living here.

The person took several shaky, loud, airy breaths. The voice sounded feminine. She bent down and peered over a box, letting the light from the match show its contents. It was Evaline's journal, but no pages were torn.

She took several more shaky breaths, sounding more exasperated by each passing second, and then dropped the match in the box. It erupted into flames, and she didn't move.

James's eyes snapped open. He didn't know how long he'd drifted off, but now he was not sleepy at all.

Trembling, he shot his hand out and picked up the new note. Without regard for the welfare of the paper, he shoved it in his pant pocket. Then he picked up the first note, folded it up like it was when he found it in the journal, and walked back over to the box.

For a moment, as he looked down at the journal, the image of it erupting into flames returned to him, vividly at the front of his mind. He reached his hand into the imagined fire and stuck the note back into the pages and closed the box, walked to the front door, and stepped outside.

So this was how it was going to be.

With his eyes wide and stinging like they did from too little sleep, he started laughing quietly, but the laugh quickly died and he stared out into the forest blankly.

An irrational fear gripped him for a moment, and he was afraid to even blink or close his eyes for even a moment. But his eyes started to water, and he was forced to blink eventually. He rubbed his eyes again and smacked his face with both hands a few times before he let out a long sigh.

He had to think about how he was going to approach this. Mel clearly knew what she was doing when she left him in Evaline's old home alone, and she'd left for quite some time, likely because she knew he'd stumble upon things that might elicit a reaction. She was probably expecting to find him in -- well, he had no idea what she was expecting when she came back. Did she even think that part through? What did she expect him to say?

Hey, thanks for not telling me Evaline had a bunch of private personal belongings stored in the boxes you told me to look for that I might stumble upon. It's not like Evaline and I have history or anything that you clearly know about.

If she thought this would solve anything she was dead wrong. This only made things worse, and of course, the note and the dreams had to all converge upon the same moment.

What was he going to tell Evaline?

He pulled the note back out of his pocket, looking down at the single verse. It was at the top of the page, and he wondered if that meant there were more that would be revealed eventually, just like the last note. He'd only been handed one piece of the puzzle, and all it seemed to tell him was - mostly - things he already knew.

drifting onto foreign shores

So, where he'd woken up. By the shore. On a foreign planet.

you hope to find the key

The key could represent anything, but it was doubtful that it was a literal key. It was probably something like hope or healing or reconciliation or something like that.

but it is lost
for it's been tossed
below into the sea

If the key did represent any of those things, then the note was basically telling him hope was lost. Which was great. Fantastic. He already knew that.

He folded the note back up and put it back in his pocket. If Evaline had found this note before him - which he highly doubted - she probably would've shown it to him. But he had a very strong hunch that he was the only one who knew about it, and he wanted to keep it that way. It wasn't like the message was useful, and gods knew Evaline might take it literally and think they had to search for something in the sea.

No. She wouldn't. She was smarter than that. He was just making excuses.

Still, he didn't want to tell her.

But if he didn't, he knew there would be a cost. Broken trust. More secrets. More hiding. More pretending.

Maybe that was just how it had to be.

James took in another deep breath and walked out into the forest. He wasn't planning on being gone long. Just a short walk to clear his head. He weaved through trees and around bushes, passing a few different bugs he didn't quite recognize, and a squirrel-like creature that perched on a branch, glancing at him with a dozen spider-like eyes.

He was gone for maybe twenty minutes, and when he returned to the cottage, Mel was still gone. He went inside and grabbed the first book of the 5-part series about learning French, went back out on the porch, and sat on the steps. He started reading the first chapter, and only a short five minutes passed before he saw Mel's car rolling back up to the cottage.

He closed the book and watched.

When the car came to a stop in front of the cottage, Mel stepped out of the vehicle and casually began to walk over, jiggling the keys to a little tune.

"Hey hey hey," she said as she skipped up the steps. "Sorry for the wait. Already reading?"

James shrugged and got to his feet, tucking the book under his arm. "Yeah, figured I had to kill time somehow. Everything went okay for you?"

"Mmmhmmm!" she hummed as she peered over to the door. "The extra clothes are in the car. Did you find the hair cutting supplies?"

"Yeah," he said. "Found them buried under a box of clothes. I put them on the table."

"I see, I see," she murmured, opening the door but then looking back over her shoulder before she walked in. "Found anything else interesting?"

She was baiting him. He wasn't going to take it.

"I didn't really look around that much," he said. "I found the hair cutting supplies in the first box I checked."

Mel walked in the cottage and held the door open for him, gesturing for him to walk in.

"Ah, real shame," she said with a sly smile. "There's a lot of weird stuff in here. But c'mon, let's cut your hair."

James stepped in and looked around. "Where do you want me to sit?" he asked.

"Pull up a chair in front of the mirror," she replied as she closed the door and walked over to the hair supplies on the table.

As James followed her instruction and sat to wait for her, she started to talk some more.

"Can you believe I used to live in this dinky place?" she said with a scrunched up face and as she readied her supplies. "Well, it's still my place, I guess. But it's more storage than anything now. I'm thinking of taking the couch and bed here and fitting it in the car so that you can have it instead. What do you think? Not like it's in use, anyways, and your place could really use it."

James glanced back at her, avoiding looking directly into the mirror he was sitting in front of.

"If you're willing to part with them, that would definitely make my life a lot easier," he said.

Mel dragged an end table next to him and set her supplies on top. She wrapped a sheet of cloth around his neck and then began to ruffle with his hair, first untying it.

"Only if you help me load it in the car," she said with a smile. "Now, what kind of haircut do you want? Anything in mind?"

James hummed, and eventually did turn to look at himself in the mirror, trying to envision something different. At this point, he felt like he'd done every length and so many different styles that he didn't really care what his hair looked like, as long as it was decent. Though he'd gone through in-between stages where it was very much not-so.

"I don't know," he said in thought. "Do you have anything in mind?"

"Oooh, glad you asked." She set both her hands on his shoulders and then leaned down so her head was next to his as she stared at the mirror. "Hmmm. What do you think about this?"

She used her illusion-type power to suddenly change the image of the mirror so that his hair looked different. It was shorter on the sides, and a little longer on the top, but not near the point of reaching his ears. It followed his natural part and there was a cowlick on his forehead.

James didn't often have the privilege of seeing himself so clearly in a mirror, but he recognized the cut immediately. It was what he'd had when Evaline had been in Nye.

It took all of his self control not to use strong words in reaction.

He turned his head from side to side, as if he was looking at it more closely, and he hummed. There was no way in hell he was going to do that to Evaline - getting the same damned haircut he had before.

"Maybe something a little different," he said. "I've already done something like this before."

"Oh, really?" Mel said innocently, still examining his hair in the mirror. "Wild coincidence. It's a good look, though."

"Do you have any other ideas?" he asked.

"Maybe we could add on to this," she mused. "Make the top a little longer. Add a fade. Style it back."

She didn't show him what that would look like, though. He had a gut feeling he already knew what it would look like.

"Maybe. Show me," James said.

"Hmmm, fine," she said, and then the image on the mirror blurred to reveal what it was she was describing. "What do you think?"

It was awfully close to the fake wanted posters Evaline drew in her journal, but it was off a little. Perhaps she couldn't remember it exactly.

James knew it was only an illusion, but it really didn't help that he'd shaved. Looking into the mirror made him uneasy. He looked over his shoulder up at Mel.

"What about something in-between?" he asked. "Like... longer on top, but more on the sides, and the top kind of swept to the side a little." He gestured with his hands around his face.

"Like this?" she asked, and the image reformed on the mirror.



James nodded slightly.

"Yeah. That works," he said. "What do you think?"

Mel smiled and ruffled his hair. His real hair, not the illusion hair, because he could feel it despite the hair in the mirror not moving at all.

"Handsome, handsome, handsome," she cooed. "This works. I'll start now."

The illusion dropped as she reached over for her comb, starting to brush his hair before cutting.

"Sooooo," she stretched out. "Excited for the new look?"

"Excited is probably too strong of a word. But it will be nice," he said.

"You can show off the new style to all your farmer friends," she said as she gently combed through his hair. "And everyone at the parties."

"I don't intend on showing off, but if people notice, they notice," James said casually.

"Oh, they'll notice," she said, copying his casual tone. "Definitely notice."

James looked at Mel in the mirror, since he couldn't exactly turn his head to look at her, and he pinched his eyebrows upward with the hint of a smile, but only rolled his eyes.

A small bout of silence passed, and she started humming to herself as she finished combing through one section of his hair.

"So, what were you reading earlier?" she asked, breaking the silence.

"Oh, it was a language learning book. French," he said. "I like different languages."

"Don't know that one," she said. "But yeah, those were Evaline's. She picked it up to learn something new, I guess. Seems pretty difficult to learn a dead language through a book if you ask me."

"It is easier to learn when you have people to speak it with," he said. "That's probably the best way to learn a new language, but with French, or any other dead language, it's not like you can go somewhere nowadays and be immersed in the language and culture. So, I guess you just have to work with what you've got."

Mel smiled and paused as she moved on to a different section of hair to comb. "Did you know that she spoke it?" she asked teasingly.

"I mean, I kind of figured that out after you told me the books were hers," he said.

"Technically, they're mine. I just let her borrow it. For a long while."

"You said you didn't know French, though. If they're your books, did you even read them?" he asked.

Mel grinned. "Awfully defensive, are we? But yeah. Not much of a reader. You got me."

"Nothing wrong with that," he said. "I just thought for a moment you might know how to speak it."

"Nope, not French. You can practice with Evaline instead, though. She'd probably dig that."

James squinted slightly in confusion.

"Dig...?"

Mel stopped for a moment to stare at him in the mirror and laugh. "Man, you're basically a cave man. How did you survive this long without anyone noticing?" She shook her head and smiled to herself, focused back on the hair.

"Noticing what?"

"Uhhh, your existence?" she said like it was obvious as she finished up the land strands to comb through. "What else?"

James still didn't understand what she was getting at.

"What do you mean how did I survive this long? In Terra...?"

"Huh?" She set the comb down and picked up her scissors, pausing to talk. "No, like, the ungoverned lands, outside the safe zone. Isn't that...?" Mel squinted back at him. "Am I missing something here?"

James sighed.

"No I just-- I don't know. I thought it was like, another-- I don't know. I was just confused," he said.

Mel was watching him closely now. "Don't tell me you're actually from the past," she said, but it sounded more like a question.

"If you're not going to believe it, there's no use telling you," James said, looking more at the floor than in the mirror.

"Now I'm the confused one," she murmured, dropping her hands. "So, wait, you are? From the past? Evaline didn't just... spin that up on the spot?"

James could feel that he was walking a very fine line between truth and lies. Mel knew who he was - enough so that she would stick him in this whole situation and reference his and Evaline's past so explicitly. But it seemed like she was either playing dumb again or she was genuinely not sure where he came from.

If she didn't think he was from the past--

"Where do you even think I came from, then?" he asked.

Mel narrowed her eyes at him even more and slowly crossed her arms, scissors poking up in the air. "You're hiding something from me," she said suspiciously. "What is it? What are you not telling me?"

James turned around to face her.

"What are you not telling me?" he asked, throwing the question back in her face. "Don't act like you're not avoiding saying things. At least, until 'after the party,' or something."

A grin slowly started to appear on her face. "You are just like her sometimes," she said. "I can see why she liked you."

James stared at her, refusing to give Mel the satisfaction of seeing his reaction. He turned back around, looking into the mirror blankly.

"Are you going to finish cutting my hair, or am I just going to have to shave off a half-done haircut?" he asked.

Mel snickered and then uncrossed her arms, sifting through his hair as she prepared for the first cut.

"How about I answer all your questions as long as you also answer mine?" she asked. "Later. After the party. Or something. You know, your words."

"Sounds like you're trying to change the terms of our agreement," James said flatly.

She groaned. "I thought an agreement would make things easier, but why is it that it always has to be so strict? Like, can't we just answer questions as good pals?"

"Mel, I appreciate your friendship, but it's only been a month, and in that time, I've only see you three times. We're hardly close friends," he said.

"I think what I'm hearing is that you want me to visit more often," she said with a sly smile. "I accept."

At this point, that was not something James was going to argue with.

"Didn't know I could be so persuasive," he said sarcastically.

"I know right? I'm really popular. People fight over my company, but I'm just handing it to you on silver platter. You're so special."

"I'll try not to make anyone too jealous," he said.

At this point, she had already started cutting. Pieces of cut strands fell to the floor.

"Do you think it'd be okay if I asked Evaline if I could take over all her visits to see you?" she asked, focused on his hair.

"Or you could just come together," James said.

"Oh, yeah, I could do that. But I wouldn't want to disturb anything, if ya know what I mean."

James looked blankly into the mirror.

"If you're so unsure, you can just come on days when Evaline doesn't," he said.

"Oh true!" she said with a smile. "Evaline can visit one day a week. I can visit six days a week. Think your farmer friends would be jealous, though?"

"Isabel, maybe," he said. "But I think the others will be able to live with it."

"I'd like to talk to this Isabel gal. I have to come up with another agreement so that we won't fight over your time."

"You know, friendship doesn't have to be a competition," James said.

Mel smiled over at him, briefly meeting his eyes in the mirror. "Wise words, man with many friends."

James felt like he was withering away inside. This was exhausting.

"Anytime," he said.

Mel continued to bicker back and forth with him for about the next fifteen minutes as she cut his hair, and she also spent some time to pull it back to style, even giving him instructions on what to do every morning so that it souldn't droop down his face.

"All set, though," she said, finally finished. She took off the cloth around his neck and brushed off the hairs that clung onto it. "How do you like it?"

James leaned forward a little, looking in the mirror. He played with his hair a little, before leaving it alone.

"It looks great," he said. "Probably the best haircut I've ever had."

Of course, he was talking about the end result, not necessarily the whole experience.

"Oh, pfft, no need to flatter me," Mel said as she smiled and waved her hand to dismiss his comment.

"I'm not," James said, and he meant it. He got to his feet and turned back around towards her. "I'm normally the one cutting my hair, so this is worlds better than I could do. Thank you."

With her foot, Mel was brushing some of the cut strands of hair off to the side. She looked up at him and beamed. "No problem, I'm glad you like it. I'd be happy to do it again in the future under one condition: no more cutting your own hair. That gives me shivers just thinking about it."

"What, and you don't cut your own hair?" he asked.

She let out a quick laugh as she kicked some more hair off into a pile. "Please. As if. I have other people do it for me every once in a while. But hey, if you're so experienced, maybe I'll trust you enough with a pair of scissors."

James gave her a carefree shrug.

"Who knows. Maybe I'll surprise you one day," he said.

"Oh yeah, full of surprises."

Mel finished kicking all the hair in one spot then turned to him, reaching out to grab his upper arms and stand by his side so that they both faced the mirror.

"Okay. Question for you. Ready?" she asked, grinning while staring at the mirror.

"As I'll ever be," James said unenthusiastically.

"What do you think about this outfit?"

The image in the mirror then changed to reveal a new outfit on him.



James wasn't sure what he'd been expecting, but he let out a little surprised: "Oh."

Dragons above, he hadn't worn a suit in... hell. Years. He didn't know if it was just because it was an illusion, but it looked like it fit perfectly. He tilted slightly to the side, not sure how much the illusion would hold up with movement. It lagged a little, so he decided not to move much.

"I like it," he said, looking himself up and down in the mirror.

"Great!" she chirped, then grabbed a string of measuring tape to drape across his arms. She quickly settled on a measurement before moving down to his legs.

"Okay, twirl for me," she said as she started to measure his waist.

James twirled slowly, and then she repeated the command for his chest too. When she finished, she set the tape down and scrawled the numbers down on a paper.

Mel stood next to him when finished, beaming. "I have another question for you," she said. "Ready for this one?"

He nodded slightly.

She took a small step toward the mirror, standing in front of it as she placed a hand on her hip and posed.

"Which one do you like better?"



The image changed to show her wearing a dress. It was black and went up to her shins with a small slit on the front. The top was hemmed to her neck.

"See, I'm thinking this is good, but maybe it can be more flashy?" she mused as the image then showed the next dress. The top hem instead went over her shoulders, revealing more skin.

"Or maybe something a bit more playful?" she continued to think out loud, changing the image again so that the top hem was more low-cut.

"Or maybe something extra playful?" she said as the image settled on the same dress, but much lower cut.

When she finished, she turned to James, smiling. "Which one do you like?"

James had put his hands in his pockets, and was thinking.

A small part of him felt that, due to everything else Mel had said in done in the last hour, that the input on the dress probably wasn't for her. But he wasn't going to treat it like it was for Evaline if Mel wasn't going to say that up front, because he didn't want to make that assumption.

"I'm partial to the first one, but if you wanted something more flashy, the third one was nice as well."

Mel turned back to the mirror, posing again as she brought up the first dress. "You like this one, you say? Very modest."

James shrugged. "If you're the one wearing it, it matters more what you think."

Mel pursed her lips but still smiled through it, dropping the illusion. "Mmkay. That's all. Thanks for the input, much appreciated."

James nodded. "Not a problem."

She took a moment to look around the room, then pointed at the small sofa. "Think you can lift that by yourself? It should fold up and fit in the backseat."

James looked over to the sofa. "I could bear most of the weight, but it is a bit bulky, so I may need help guiding it through the doorway."

Mel shrugged. "Sure, I can help. Let's do it."

They both spent about the next 15 minutes lifting two furniture items -- the small sofa and bed mattress, both of which were foldable -- into the car. They were preparing to leave, but then she gave the room one last lookover.

"Got everything? I'm going to clean up the hair first and get a few more supplies for you, and then I'll meet you in the car."

"I already put the books in the back. I should be good," he said.

"Lovely," she said, then waved him off. "Door's unlocked. I'll meet you there in a few minutes."

James nodded. After what happened the last time she left, he couldn't help but be suspicious of her wanting to take another moment away. She was toying with him, and though it was a dance he'd done a few different times before - albeit in a different context - he still didn't enjoy it. Mel might've been nice, but she was far more knowledgeable than she initially let on, and he worried that one day she'd leverage that against him. It felt like she was already trying to. He didn't know if she was trying to threaten him or if she was just entertained by seeing him squirm.

Why couldn't she just leave him alone?

He sighed, standing beside the car for a minute or so in thought, and then he got in, sitting in the passenger seat. He just had to wait a few minutes...

He was standing in the cottage again, in the light of day. It looked like it was used, but he hardly had time to take in the surroundings, because he could see Evaline standing in the middle of the room.

"Evaline, I think if you just stop and think for a minute--" Mel's voice said. He was looking through her eyes.

"I don't want to!" Evaline screeched, clearly upset and frustrated. Her long hair was a mess and she looked like she hadn't slept for days.

A hysterical laugh escaped her lips as she started to take some of her paintings hung up on the wall and throw them, destroying it. She did this over and over, destroying one after another as Mel tried to stop her.

James's head jerked back up. He heard the car door open, and Mel slid into the driver's seat.

"Took a nap?" she said with a small giggle as she got ready to start the car. "I wasn't gone that long."

James shook his head and closed and opened his eyes again, like he was trying to wake himself up.

"Sorry," he said. "I think I just drifted off."

Mel started the car as she started to drive. "Tired? You can sleep if you want. Long drive back and all."

"No, it's okay," he said. "I don't want to wake up with a crick in my neck from sleeping sitting up, anyway."

Mel paused for a moment as she peered out in front of her to drive down the rocky path, in search of the main road.

"If you say so," she said. "Would you rather listen to music?"

"Sure. You pick something this time," he said.

Mel pressed a couple of buttons on the front of the vehicle and then settled on classical piano music.

"In case you wanna sleep," she said with a smile.

James nodded back with a small smile. This music was not helping him fight back sleep at all. He looked out the window instead, trying to focus on the passing landscape. He tried to memorize this route, just in case he ever needed to know how to get there or back.

Mel, meanwhile, was humming along to some songs, and even had a few obnoxious "ba da da's" during the refrain of some melodies, but at least they helped keep him awake. This went on for far too many minutes, but then she transitioned to a stop, and only the sounds of the piano filled the silence between them as she drove fast down the road.

James could feel the migraine building back again the more he thought about the last few hours. His head hurt. His eyes hurt. The light from the sun was so bright, and the music felt so loud. He just wanted to be home in the quiet, where he could be alone. If only he had... curtains. Or a hat. He could hide under his blanket.

He persevered for what felt like a very long time, but eventually, he told himself maybe he could close his eyes for just a moment. Only a second, and then he'd open them back up again.

But he didn't.

He was back at the cottage, and it was dark. The person whose eyes he was looking through was sitting against the wall next to someone else, which he recognized to be Evaline after a few moments. She was sitting with her knees to her chest, her hair covering her had as she buried her face in her knees.

The person reached out an arm to place on her back.

"It's okay to cry," came an unfamiliar woman's voice, gentle and soft.

The image then jumped.

He was in the woods, and he could see Ellie laying nearby. This must have been Evaline again, and he was watching through her eyes.

A mosquito flew near her arm, and Evaline slapped it, but then it flew away. She groaned loudly as she inspected where it bit her. "Seriously?" she said under her breath.

The image jumped again, this one more blurry than the others so far.

He could see Evaline sitting against a tree next to a campfire, looking up at the sky. Her hair was short, up to her ears. She looked like she was dressed for living outside.

"Hey, do that thing on me," a deep voice came from the person he was looking through. It took James some moments to recognize that it was Hendrik's voice.

"What thing?" she said flatly, still staring up at the sky.

"Tell me what I'm thinking."

Evaline rolled her eyes. "That's now how it works."

"But it looks like it does," he countered.

Evaline looked at him blankly for a moment then sighed. "Okay, fine."

James woke up with a start. The peaceful music had suddenly shifted to something screaming, and blindingly loud. His head still hurt, and the sudden surge of noise made it ache. He winced and muttered a curse too quite to be heard over the "music."

Mel was giggling next to him as she turned down the volume. "Gotcha," she said playfully, then powered down the car. "We're back at your farm, sleepyhead."

It felt like someone had pierced a dagger through his eyes, sticking out the back of his head. The images from the dream were like blurry memories dancing around in the back of his mind, amplifying the pain.

He squinted over at Mel, trying to get a grip and keep back from a too-obviously pained expression. He hoped it would pass off as annoyance for how she'd woken him.

"You couldn't have just said my name?" he asked, rubbing his eyes.

"What's the fun in that?" she said with a smirk as she opened the door. "C'mon. Help me lug everything inside."

James sighed and got out of the car, walking back to the trunk. Mel opened it and they started hauling everything inside, taking in the small items first, tossing them onto the table for the time being. Then they got the bed, which they put in place of the cot. James folded up the cot and leaned it against the wall while they went back to the car and brought the couch in, putting it in the only reasonable spot in the cottage - where there was actual wall space for it.

"There!" Mel said when they finally finished lugging everything in. "Your place is finally coming together."

"All thanks to you," James said, pretending he didn't have a migraine. As much as he could manage, anyway.

She bowed dramatically. "You're welcome," she said in a chipper tone then looked out the window. It was late afternoon now. "Well, I should probably get going so you can return to your exciting farm chores and put stuff away. You need anything else from me while I'm here? More food, maybe, to fill your endless stomach?"

James shook his head. "No, I'll be fine. I've got to figure out how I want to organize everything now."

Mel shrugged and headed for the door. "Alrighty then. I'll be back on Sunday before the party to pick you up around 11am."

"Sounds good," he said.

"Mmkay. See ya later!"

She left the cottage and headed for the car, and as soon as she opened the door and hopped in, James stepped outside the cottage.

"Mel!"

She poked her head out of the car. "Yeah, what's up?"

"You never did 'pick up that bunch of clothes,' from your family's house," he said loud enough to carry. "I hope you didn't waste your time taking that quick trip home."

Mel leaned on the car with a half-smile, slightly pursing her lips. "Yes, I did, silly," she said. "It's in one of the boxes. I think you'll like my sense of style I chose for you."

James glanced back into the cottage.

"I'll let you know next time I see you."

She paused for another moment. "Sure thing. Anything else you want to tell me...?"

James smiled and laughed, turning back into the cottage. "No, you're good to go. Safe travels."

"Alrighty. See you in a few days!" she said as she hopped back in the car.

She spent a few moments getting ready, but then the car bounded down the road, and she waved through the window before she was out of sight.

James retreated inside, closing the door. He found his box of books, and he started adding all of the books to his bookself, next to the others. He managed to fill one whole shelf.

He returned to the next box, and like Mel said, it was full of clothes. On top there were what looked to be work clothes. Linen shirts, plaid shirts, simple but sturdy pants, and a few overalls in different colors. There were more socks and underwear too, which were appreciated.

As he started looking through the clothes, he couldn't help but wonder how Mel even know his size. Speaking of, how did Evaline--?

He paused for a moment with a pair of underwear in his hands, squinting.

He didn't want to know the answers to those questions. He was going to pretend he never thought them.

Under the work clothes, there were a few nicer looking pairs of clothes. Clean, collared shirts. Fitted jackets. Pleated pants. Underneath all of that was a pair of shoes that was lightweight. It looked a little different than he was used to seeing, but he knew they were shoes, and they felt breathable. Probably made for being active. Next to it was another, much nicer pair of shoes made of suede.

It was... a lot. More clothes than he had ever had, really.

At a bit of a loss for where to put them, he set them all back in the box for the moment and checked the last box. It looked like Mel had thrown in random household supplies and a few decorations. He started taking them out, setting them on the table and trying to remember Mel's brief illusion she'd created in the cottage, seeing if any of the pieces filled those roles. There were curtains, some hyper-realistic pictures, some bedsheets, and more. He found two books thrown in there: one was old and weathered and titled world religions, and one was a survival guide for living in the wilderness.

Why was everyone taking such detailed notes of every damn little thing he said?

It wasn't that he didn't appreciate it, it was just annoying that Mel kept dropping hints that she knew things and couldn't just say it to his face.

He took out one last sheet and paused when he saw Evaline's journal hidden at the bottom of the box, like she'd put it in first and thrown everything else on top of it.

Oh, that was it.

James marched over to the bed, threw himself face-down onto the mattress, and screamed.

It was the Day of Peace. Two days had flown by, and the interior of James's cottage was transformed. He had done his best attempt to match Mel's illusory vision of how to fill the space and make it more homey. He artfully placed books and decorations on the shelf, hung up pictures, hid the stored clothes in boxes under his bed, hung up the curtains, and put a few potted plants around the place, with one hung up in the corner by the bookshelf. It was just starting to dangle over the sides in a vine-like manner.

In the past two days as he'd been decorating, organizing, and putting it all together he'd listened to the casette tapes Mel gave him while working. That was, all but the one without a label.

He'd dreamt more too, and he'd long-since figured out that they were memories that had been undone by Evaline. At least, he was pretty sure it was Evaline. There were a few people involved sometimes, and he didn't understand the full context of what was going on, but it still appeared to be timelines undone by her or someone else. Unlike the moments at the cottage, the dreams from the past two days were more trivial outdoors moments, triggered by small inconveniences, or done on purpose.

Now that the Day of Peace had come, he decided to spend the morning doing something less strenuous than working the fields. He went on a longer ride than normal with Elliot, going out for a few hours and branching into land he had yet to explore. There was a lot of open land, and it was quite beautiful. He did pass a few other farms, but he kept his distance, not wanting to trespass or disturb them in the early hours of the morning.

When he got back home, he bathed and washed up, got dry, and read for a few hours. He was studying, really. The first book on French, still, and trying to grasp the grammar and pronunciation of different sounds. He had no one to compare to, but he did practice a little to himself.

At about 10am, he spent the rest of the time making sure Elliot was situated with enough food and water for the day. He kept the shed open for him so Elliot could wander in and out if needed, but still kept Elliot attatched to a long rope so he couldn't run off too far.

He needed to build that fence soon.

It was right as he patted Elliot's face and turned to go back to his cottage that he saw a car approaching in the distance. It was the same car that Mel drove two days ago.

She drove down the road and came up to a stop in front of his cottage, excitedly opening the door and jumping out.

"Goooood morning, James!" she called, leaning against the door.

She was wearing a tight-fitted white party dress, complete with jewelry and heels. Her hair was pulled back neatly into a bun as a few ringlets shaped her face.



James waved to her, walking up to the car.

"Good morning, Mel," he said with a smile. "You look lovely today."

"Thanks!" She picked something off up at the passenger seat. "Got a little something for you~" she sing-songed, and then bee-lined for the door. "Let's go inside."

James followed after her, going inside after her since she'd made it to the door first. He watched to see her reaction to what he did with the place.

Her eyes lit up as she placed the small box down on the table nearby. "Wooooow, you actually took my vision and brought it to life!" she said in delight, smiling wide. "It looks really nice. Now I can't joke that you live like a rat."

James laughed. "I'm glad you like it. I liked your idea, so I tried to execute it to the best of my ability."

"It looks really good - you did a good job!" She ruffled the curtains up a little. "Much cozier. I think you're convincing me to actually visit more often now. Your evil plan is working."

"Ha," James said flatly, though with a small smirk. "I'm an evil genius."

Mel snickered and then opened the box and pulled out a suit jacket. "Ta daaaa!" she said as she held it out in front of him. "I tailored the suit I showed you the other day. This party is, um, way too fancy. Sorry, your farmer attire won't cut it."

James stared at the suit. He knew, in his head, that she was going to do this. She wouldn't have shown him the illusory image if she wasn't going to make it a reality, but it was so different seeing it in person. For a moment he felt nervous to even be seen in it.

But if the party was like she said, then it would be far more embarassing to appear underdressed.

His face melted into a smile.

"It looks perfect. Should I put it on now?"

Mel practically threw the suit jacket and box at him. "Yes, please! Do you want any help, or? Want me to... awkwardly stand outside?"

"If you could bear to awkwardly stand outside, I should be just fine dressing myself," he said.

"Hmmph, fine," she said with a shrug as she walked over to the door, her heels making loud thumps against the floor. She pulled the door open but then looked back at him.

"Everything you need is in there. Pants, collared shirt, vest, jacket, and tie. And socks and shoes. Also a belt if it doesn't fit. But yeah, I'll just stand outside and wait before seeing anything, all good."

James nodded and glanced down in the box.

"Sounds good," he said.

"Alright," she said. "I'll be on your porch."

Once Mel slipped outside, James drew the cottage curtains shut and brought the box to his bed. He sat on the end and set the box beside him. He took off his shoes and socks first, then got fully undressed. He took out each piece of the suit and put the pants on - they happened to fit perfectly, so there was no need for a belt - and then the shirt, vest, tie. He put the jacket on, and then his shoes and socks.

He wasn't sure if he wanted to see himself at the moment. He'd already seen the illusion of it in the mirror, and that was enough for him. It was disorienting enough just wearing a suit again.

With a sigh, he walked back over to the front door and opened it, looking out at Mel.

"All done," he said.

She was leaning over the railing but then stood up straight with bright eyes when she saw him, fully impressed.

"Awwwwwh, you look so good!" she exclaimed as she got closer and brushed off some of his sleeves with a big smile. "Very classic look. You pull it off so well! You handsome devil, you."

At the last sentence, she giggled and booped his nose.

James cringed away from her finger for a second, but smiled bashfully.

"Thanks."

"Oh! You're missing one last thing to complete the look, though."

She pulled out a tiny box sitting on the railing and then gave it to him. When James opened it, he saw that inside a corsage and boutonnière pin made out of daisies.

"Ta daaaa," Mel said with a beaming smile as he opened it. "Favorite flower, right?"

James smiled as he looked down at them, and he took the pin out of the box, flipping it over gently in his hand.

"You really thought of everything," he said.

"Mmmhmm! Of course I did," Mel said as she stepped forward to take the corsage out of the box and placed it on his hand so he'd put it on. "It's a Day of Peace tradition anyways to have this. But the florist did a good job, huh?"

"Very much so," James said with a nod. He put the boutonnière on first, carefully pinning it to his lapel. Then he slipped the corsage on his wrist.

Mel, meanwhile, had another box waiting to be opened, but this one was for her since they were her own boutonniere and corsage, made out of small sunflowers.

"I'm not sure how the tradition started, really, but I think it's one of the best perks of this party," she said as she pinned it on herself. "Otherwise people would probably skip it. But it's pretty nice to have a real reason to dress up once in a while, so you've got no complaints from me."

James nodded, adjusting the corsage on his wrist so that it didn't wrinkle the end of his jacket sleeve.

"How many holidays a year are there like this?" he asked.

Mel laughed as she slipped on the corsage. "I forgot that you wouldn't know these things," she said. "This is the only formal one, don't worry. And also... you do know the tradition, right? Or do you need a reminder since you've lived under a rock for so long?"

"Hilarious," James said dryly. "Should we get going now, so we're not late? I assume we're both ready to go now."

Still smiling, Mel narrowed her eyes at him for a moment before she looked back towards the car.

"Yeah, let's go. But also..." She faced him with a teasing smile. "If you can't find anyone to give your corsage to, you can always give it to me~"

James blinked slowly.

So that was the tradition. You gave the corsage away to somebody. Somebody "special" was implied. How convenient of her to subtly drop that message.

He smiled slightly, giving Mel a look.

"I guess we'll just wait and see," he said, starting towards the car.

"Guess so!" Mel chirped back, following him.

She stepped out of the porch and carefully but briskly walked on the path leading up to the car, steadily staying up despite her heels. She opened the door and hopped in when she reached it. James hopped in on the other side.

"So the place is about an hour drive away," she said as she got ready. "Ready for another mini road trip?"

James nodded and shot her a smile.

"That I am." He paused, looking out the window and then back at her. "And this time, I actually got sleep so I don't fall asleep on you."

Mel laughed as she started to drive down the path, keeping her attention focused in front of her.

"Oh, yay, so no more peaceful piano music?" she said.

"You can play whatever you want, and long as you don't make me deaf. My hearing's already iffy as is."

"Awwww. But super loud screaming punk music is my absolute favorite and is the perfect music to hype us up for a formal party."

James laughed through his nose.

"If you're dying to listen to it, just don't expect me to be able to hear anything you say afterwards." He paused, before adding emphasis. "Literally."

She giggled again as she pressed a few buttons on the front. "Can't have that. How else am I going to be entertained?" she murmured.

James was quiet for a moment as a banjo started to play.

"If I'm providing entertainment I should really start charging people," he joked. "I can't keep doing this for free."

"Hey listen, it's the song of your people!" she said through a laugh as she increased the volume a little. It was a song with a banjo, fiddle, and man with a rural accent singing. She glanced back at James.

"Anyways, say what now? Are you a farmer and entertainer now?"

"I am a multifaceted human being with diverse marketable skills," James said straight facedly.

Mel hummed. "What else are you good at?" she asked.

"If I told you everything now, that would rob you of the joys of discovering them organically."

She pouted a bit as she cruised the car down the main road. The gate was seen in the distance.

"Okay, not everything, but top three skills, go," she said.

James sighed. She already knew things that Evaline might've told her. He decided to test that. He would tell her things Evaline would know, and if Mel seemed disappointed, then she could just be disapponted.

"I can play the harmonica," he said. "I can dance decently - though I suppose you kind of figured that one out - and I can do a handstand."

"Ooooh," Mel began. "Such a musical type. So artsy. Is your handstand better than your art skills?"

"Probably," James said with a shrug. "I guess it depends on how you rank my art skills."

She smirked. "Why don't you draw me something and I'll let you know? I'll have to compare it to your handstand, though."

"Sure," he said. "I'll draw you something for the next time you visit, then."

"Yay!" she exclaimed. "That'd be really cute. I'd offer something too, but my art's is ehhh. It's always been more of Evaline's thing instead."

"I don't need compensation for a gift," James said. "I am well content with your company."

They were approaching the gate, and Mel started to slow down, but glanced at James with bright puppy eyes and a small pout-like smile.

"Awwwww!" she cooed. "You're so sweet. I knew you were secretly a big softy."

"Well, don't let my secret out too eagerly," James said with a slight smile.

"My lips are sealed."

At this point, the car stopped in front of the gate, and Mel opened her window and leaned her elbow out.

"Hello, hello, Jack," she said while twirling one of her ringlets with a finger. "Happy Day of Peace. Like what you see?"

The guard, Jack, simply patted down the hood of the car.

"Just be back before sundown," he said gruffly, signaling for the other guards to let them through.

"Thank you~" Mel sing-songed as she slowly drove through, but then poked her head out the window. "If you're still here when I come back, I'll give you my corsage!"

Jack did not reply.

Mel giggled to herself as she finally drove through the gate and turned her attention back to James.

"He's a nice man," she commented.

"I'll take your word for it," James said.

Mel snickered, and a small bout of silence passed as she started to dramatically hum along with the lyrics of the song while driving fast on the main road they were on yesterday. She spoke again when it was over.

"Hey, you're not so bad," she said out of the blue. "I think you just needed someone to pull you out of your shell."

"Or drag me out," he said, looking out the window at the familiar road passing by.

Mel laughed. "You make it sound like I forced you to be here."

"I'm only joking," James said, glancing at her with a smirk. "I know it took some work. Thanks for not giving up on me."

"No problem," she said with a smile. "Does that mean I'm your friend now?"

James paused, pursing his lips into a small frown of thought, and then he nodded.

"I'd reckon so," he said in an accent imitating the voice of the singer in the previous song.

Mel warmly laughed and rolled her eyes. "Maybe you should talk like that, always. It's a farmer thing. Everyone would understand."

"If it's a farmer thing then I should probably only talk like that around farmers. Farmer exlcusive."

"I'm a farmer," she said defensively. "I farm friendship and good times."

"Yer toein' the line fer the definition of that word, but I guess I'll let it slide," he said, continuing the accent a little longer.

Mel groaned, but laughed anyways. "Oh my gooood, stop, this hurts me lil ears!"

James laughed.

"But you asked for it!"

"I take it back!" she said quickly.

James shook his head with a small smile.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. Fine I'll let it drop for now," he said.

Mel paused for a moment but then burst out laughing. "Sorry I just -- hah! Am imagining you speaking like that at the party. Too funny."

"Maybe as a party trick to make people laugh, but not the whole time!" James said with a little laughter in his voice.

She waggled her brows at him. "Careful, you're going to get alllll the corsages now."

James scoffed, still laughing lightly.

"All for a silly accent. People can't be that easily amused."

"I mean..." Mel glanced at him again. "Now that I think about it, some of the ladies would probably offer it because they want babies. So you have that going for you."

James rolled his eyes into the back of his head and leaned far back into his seat.

"Thanks for reminding me," he said with a sigh.

Mel giggled. "Sorry, kind of hard to forget. What are you going to do about that, anyways? Probably stay in Terra? There are people like you in there, so it's not a bad spot."

"Other people who can have children, you mean?" he asked.

"Yeah. Why else would you be there?"

"To farm. Obviously."

"I mean, I guess," she said with a little laugh. "You knowing how to farm definitely helped you get a spot."

"I figured," he said.

She glanced at him and let another bout of silence pass. She broke it not long after, of course.

"Tell me a story," she said. "Something funny. Or whatever you want, really."

"Getting bored, are we?" he asked, looking over at her.

Mel shrugged innocently. "Maybe I just want to hear stories from my new friend."

"A story about anything," James clarified.

"First thing that popped in your head, go."

James sighed and looked out the window at the passing trees, and the bright blue sky. There were a few different stories that came to mind all at once. He decided to pick something innocuous enough that it couldn't really be revealing of anything personal.

"It was in the dead of winter," he started, not giving any preface to the story and deciding to let it speak for itself.

"A mother was in the deep of the forest, trudging through twenty feet of snow. A baby on her back, wrapped in furs all around. A blizzard had just blown through the day before, leaving the mountainside like a buried wasteland. Clouds were forming above her, threatening, and looming. Taunting her with another storm.

She was lost. Fleeing her village because of a plague sweeping through it, claiming the lives of her friends and family one by one. The sickness took over the body slowly, seeping in unnotticed at first, and then all at once. First, fatigue, and then a slight itch in the back of your throat. You think it's just allergies, or a small cold, and then one night, your temperature drops, and you're freezing cold. Dead, and frozen like and icicle.

Her name was Laura, and she'd nursed too many people to death than she could count.

But the winter had been blinding, and merciless. The village was the only haven for miles upon miles. She would either wait to die there, isolated from all others, or she would take a chance, gambling an escape.

When she found herself drowning in snow, with her one year old son shivering on her back, she was beginning to think she shouldn't have taken the gamble.

But she pressed on. Forward through the snow, uphill, racing away from the death that seemed to be clinging to her coattail.

And as she climbed, the storm rolled in. First, as a flurry, and then all she could see was white. Cold seeping through her clothes, digging into her skin. She brought her baby close into her arms, desperately trying to surround him with her fading warmth. She could barely feel his breath. She pinched her eyes shut, waiting for the howling winds to bury her alive.

And then, the storm cleared. Or so she thought. She saw the storm was still raging on, but there was a circle all around here where the air was clear, and the snow and the winds didn't reach her. Even the air started to feel... warmer.

And then she saw it. Standing off to the side watching her was a giant bear, made of ice. It seemed to stand at the center of the stormless ring, like it alone was the eye of the storm. Though there was no light seen through the stormclouds, the bear seemed to emanate a soft, pulsating light from within. Like a heartbeat.

She stood frozen as the bear approached her with slow, crunching steps. Its fur - like little icicles - could be heard clinkig faintly against one another.

And then the bear stopped, and they were face to face. The bear seemed to look from her, down to the baby.

Full of fear, awe, and bewilderment, she slowly turned the baby's face into the bear's view. The bear looked at the baby, staring for some time. And then the bear opened it's mouth, and breathed.

Its breath was like a thick fog, billowing around them like smoke. It swirled around them until the woman couldn't see any more.

And then it dissipated, and she found herself standing in a deep cave. A fire crackling beside her. The storm raging on near the distant entrance, but far from her. She looked down at her son and saw his face was full of life, and then he opened his eyes, and they were blue like ice crystals. But he was healthy, and alive.

She survived that night there, in the cave, until the storm blew over. When she made it to the next village over, no one believed her story of the bear made of ice who saved her and her sons life, but the story itself lived on."

He finally stopped, looking over to Mel, who looked entranced by the story as she waited for him to finish.

"The End."

She blinked, then scrunched up her face as she glanced at him to give him a sour look.

"All that build up, just for no one to believe her? Or no explanation?" she said. "Such a tease."

"Sometimes life doesn't have a clean-cut satisfying ending," James said with a shrug. "But its just a story."

"Exactly! Isn't there at least a false ending? Like, did they move on and live normal lives, or is that the sequel?"

"I mean, there is one version where the baby dies, and one where they both die, and the bear brings them back and so on and so on," James said. "I'm sure Laura went on to live a normal life, or as normal as things could be. In some versions, they say the boy inherits the ability to conjure storms, much like the Bear of Winter."

Mel hummed. "Well, at least it's a happy ending. I must say, I was not expecting you to say all that when I asked for a story. You're a pretty good storyteller, you know that?"

"I'm self aware, yes," James said, suppressing a grin.

Mel chuckled. "I assume you didn't make that all up on the spot then."

"No, it was an old folktale I heard as a child," he said.

She hummed in thought. "I've never been told any gruesome story as a kid," she commented. "Must of been a helluva childhood."

James laughed. "The story was meant to scare kids off from going off alone in the winter. The original version I heard did not have a happy ending."

"Did you make up the happy ending then?"

"I figured you wouldn't want to hear a gruesomly sad story, so I changed the end, yes," he said.

Mel paused for a moment but then turned to look at him for a little longer than a glance, smiling.

"Well, I appreciate it," she said. "I do enjoy happier endings."

James smiled back. "Me too."