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Left box. Right box. Left box again. She worked swiftly, sorting through the pile of clothes that spread across the floor. Right box. Right box. Left. Leggings, jeans, sweaters, blouses, hoodies, scarves and dresses, flying in her hands as she worked. She grew faster as the pile shrunk, a sense of urgency in her movements. Every few minutes she would glance over her shoulder, towards the doorway. Her breathing was heavy, echoing in the still room over the shifting of clothes. Left. Left. Right. Left.

At length the two boxes were filled and the floor was clear of clothing. She stood, eyeing the door again as the wooden floor creaked beneath her. The box of things on the left was slid across the floor, towards the closet and out of sight. She carefully picked up the other box of clothes and made her way slowly across the creaking floor. Her feet knew which boards would make the loudest noises, and they avoided them like hot coals. The bare soles slid like liquid across the wood, not daring to make a sound and betray their owners' dire position. No other soul could have reached the door as quietly as she did, and when she had she opened it with that same extreme caution. No lights were on in the hallway she would enter, perfect for the task at hand. As she slid into the darkness, looking both up and down the deserted hall, she paused. Was that footsteps she heard above her?

A long moment of silence later, she shakes her head. Continuing down the hallway, her sounds now padded by the thick carpet underfoot. This allowed her to move much more quickly, walking as fast as the weighted box would let her. She came to the end of the hall and eventually the kitchen, which was lit by a dim light left on above the stove. The kitchen itself was sanitary and white, meaning that the light reflected off of every shining surface, making it seem brighter than it really was. She set the box down on the counter, looking around the kitchen. A few plants sat corralled in one corner of the counter top, looking green and lush in their harsh sterile setting. Frowning at the plants, she went to the cupboard beside the sink and withdrew a cup

It was a risk for her, since she was in a hurry and time was very precious at the moment, but she couldn't stand the thought of leaving her plants here unwatered. She turned the tap on low, so that barely any water flowed out into the clear glass. Once it was relatively full, she crossed back to her succulents and dumped a portion into each one. There simply wasn't time for her to take them with her, so this was the least she could do. With a last look at her beautiful, leafy greens, she returned to her former mission and scooped up the box.

Through the kitchen there was a door to the garage. This part of her plan would be the hardest. She needed to make sure everything was executed perfectly, or she would suffer the consequences. She walked over to the silver Explorer with cherries on the license plates, stepping around the hood of the Chevy Corvette in the process. She stowed the box in the backseat of the box-shaped car with the several other boxes already inside, and quietly closed the door.

Back in the kitchen, she peered soundlessly around the corner of wall that led down the hallway. One item that could not be left behind was still down that hall, something that couldn't survive in this place all alone. So she tiptoed her way back onto the carpeted floor, willing her beating heart to stop racing in fear that it was making too much noise.

The tall white door at the end of the hallway loomed in front of her. This door scared her, but if she didn't retrieve what was hers from that room, she may never see it again. She grasped the silver knob in one sweaty hand and took a deep breath. The door swung open silently, an answer to her prayers. This room was the largest in the house, draped in white from floor to ceiling, the curtains, rug, bedspread, all white. There was an adjoining bathroom across the way, with one light left on. The outer wall was entirely glass, floor to ceiling and wall to wall glass window. It had once been her favorite room in the house. A room with a view of the ocean every morning was exactly her style.

She wasn't here to reminisce, she reminded herself. What she needed was on the other side of the bed. She slid, still barefoot, across the floor. A heavy snort came unexpectedly from the bed, and her blood ran cold. Frozen to the spot in the middle of the room, staring at the bed for any sign that its inhabitant was awake. After many moments of silence from both parties, she deemed it safe to continue. With a bit more speed, she covered the distance of floor to reach the side of the enormous bed.

There, on the floor, was a sort of pillow shaped like a castle, complete with little towers propped up against the wall it rested on. On this pillow was a little white ball of fluff, the size of a loaf of bread. Kneeling, she picked up this little ball, which began kicking and stirring excitedly.

"Shhhh." The girl pleaded, holding the tiny white Pomeranians snout shut. The dog obeyed, not making a sound as they both crossed the room. Without a look back, they were out the door and it closed behind them with a satisfying click. She moved much faster, not minding the noise that she made as she returned to the garage. She got into her car, placing the dog in the passenger seat on a cushion. The little fluff ball curled up into a ball and went back to sleep.

She took a few deep breaths, and with some hesitation, turned the key to start her engine. No sooner than she did, the garage door opened, and a tall figure entered. She froze once more too scared to move. The figure got closer, and then stopped at the car, tapping on the tinted window.

A few quiet moments passed, but then the window slid down, revealing the girl, obviously terrified and close to tears. She looked out at the man before her, praying silently to herself. He was bigger than her, muscular and broad across the shoulders, towering over her by a full foot. If there was a fight, there would be no winning for her. He lowered himself down so that he was level with her window and she could see the full frame of his face. He was handsome, with a sharp jaw and bright blue eyes. She expected his eyes to be full of anger, but instead they were filled with defeat.

"Becca, why are you doing this? We talked about this, I told you I was going to be better."

Becca, as was the girls name, was speechless. She expected her boyfriend to fly into a fit of rage, yelling and cursing and eventually becoming physical. He just stared at her there in her car, looking genuinely sad. She didn't know what to say.

"You are leaving, aren't you? I assumed that was why all of your things were gone from the closet, and Prim wasn't in her bed."

"Ryan, I-…" she tried to think, but her head was confused and cloudy. "Yeah. I'm leaving. I'm sorry, but I can't do this anymore."

Ryan looked down at his knees, a sigh escaping his lips. When he looked back up at her he looked haunted and tired.

"You shouldn't be apologizing to me, Rebecca. I'm the one who's sorry. You're beautiful, and perfect, and smart- "

She held up a hand to stop him.

"Don't do this Ryan, you're only going to make this harder for both of us."

He nodded, rubbing his unshaven chin sullenly. He obviously didn't want her to go, but nothing he said could have made her stay.

"Well, goodbye then Becca. Bye, Prim." He paused. "Call me if you need anything. I mean anything."

Ryan turned and headed back towards the door. Rebecca caught her breath, her heart skipping several beats as she gripped the wheel tightly in both hands. No fight? Not even a little resistance? She looked down at her outstretched arms, still bearing the oval shaped finger-like bruises from the last time she tried to leave in the middle of the night. She could still feel the pressure of his hands, torn away from the wheel as she was dragged out of the car. She was so taken by the memory that she didn't notice her gaze had drifted and she was staring off into blank space.

The garage door began to open, startling her. She looked up and saw Ryan standing on the garage steps. He had pressed the button to open the door behind her, and now he only offered her a blank look. She took a deep breath and after checking to make sure Prim was alright, she shifted into gear and drove off into the night. She backed out of the garage, and watched as it began to close in front of her, sealing her decision. She began to drive down the long, winding driveway in the dark, taking in the towering trees that lined the path once more. Her heart lept as she approached the tall black gate, her mind racing with the thought that it wouldn't open, and she would remain trapped here. Was Ryan giving her false hope by letting her get this far?

The gates swung open as she approached, revealing the road ahead that would take her away from here. She feathered the gas pedal, approaching the gates, and then crossing the line that would allow them to automatically close on their own. She glanced in the rear-view mirror as they shut behind her. The light in the room with the great glass window was on, but no figure haunted the window to watch her leave. If there had been a figure, he would have seen her hesitate now before the open road, like a toddler dipping their toes into the water and then drawing back. Eventually, the toddler will learn that it is safe to swim, and jump in. Now, Rebecca was jumping in, making a turn towards her apartment 70 miles away.

She drove for an hour, making it about halfway to her home. Everything this far out was back roads, so she had no choice but to take the scenic route. She stopped at this time, pulled over on the side of the road and slumped in her seat. Her heart was still beating out of her chest, and she couldn't help but holding her breath every time she saw a set of headlights approach from behind. She couldn't believe that she was really out, free from that house, and that man. He had let her go without so much as a struggle, something that confused her entirely. He had never let her leave before, why was it different now?

She was still worried, but at the same time she was relieved. She couldn't wait to get home to her little apartment, empty for the last few months. Rebecca wanted to show Prim around, make her feel at home too. No one would come in at night to stare at her while she slept, no one would wake her up in the middle of the night to be a plaything. She could just sleep. Safe and secure, in her own bed. She looked over at Prim, who was still dozing on her pink cushion in the passenger seat.

"It's just going to be us for a while Prim." She reached out to pet the top of the dogs' head. "No more mean old Ryan. You can sleep all day and share my hotdogs with me. How's that sound girl?"

The little pup didn't move, simply continued snoring. They got back on the road, finally emerging from the densely wooded area into a more suburban setting. There was a gas station ahead, just outside of a little pit-stop town on the way to Teransom, where Rebecca's apartment was. She stopped here to fill up the tank and allow Prim to use the bathroom. She must have looked nervous, because the soccer-mom looking lady at the pump across from her squinted at her.

"Are you alright honey?" she asked, giving a little wave.

She jumped at the sound of the ladies' voice. She hadn't realized that she wasn't alone at the pump, and was startled by the question.

"What?"

The lady squinted even harder at her now, sizing her up from top to bottom.

"I said, are you alright? You look like you just came out of hell."

Rebecca froze. She didn't know why, but her entire body seemed to tense at the woman's voice. Her uncontrollable instincts and lack of trust played out in her mind, binding her to the spot. Without replying, she stopped the gas pump and got back in the car. Tire marks appeared on the pavement where she drove, speeding out of the parking lot and back into the night.

She was panting like a dog by the time she reached her exit. Her chest was tight, even though no danger was apparent. The anxious, suppressing feeling was everywhere within her, in her fingers and toes, her head and her stomach. She wanted to throw up, even as she pulled into the driveway of her duplex, far away from where she began. Finally home, she tried her hardest to breath out a sigh of relief. The door was only fifteen feet away, but she ran the distance, looking behind her to make sure no one was following. The tiny dog whimpered in her arms, and with a start she realized she was nearly crushing her in her grasp.

For the first time in 4 months, Rebecca took out her keys and opened the door to her home. This was her true home, one she could live in fearlessly, or as fearlessly as any other person along the street. The entrance was dark, so she shook her phone to automatically turn on her flashlight. The beam shot down the narrow opening and into the living room, illuminating the distantly familiar furniture. Now that she could see her feet, she quickly stepped inside and shut the door tightly behind her, latching both the key-lock and the deadbolt. Prim was shaking in her arms, seemingly terrified of this strange, new place. She tried to soothe the little dog, setting her up on her feet so that she could explore. She stepped further into the hallway and out into the open living space, her hand searching the wall for the light switch. Thankfully, it flicked on and filled the room with bright light.

Rebecca's living room was filled with life, literally. Every place that she could shove a potted succulent or spidery fern was filled with just that, green growth and luscious leaves running over tables, stools, and chairs. She looked around in shock. All of her plants should be dead. She hadn't been home in over four months, meaning that she hadn't been able to water them or rotate them into the windowsill for sunlight. The fact that they were all so green, flourishing, surprised her so immensely that she nearly jumped ten feet in the air when Prim let out a small bark. It was then that she noticed a white piece of paper perched carefully between two plants. Picking it up, she sighed a huge sigh of relief.

Becca,

Just wanted to let you know that I took care of your plants while you were gone. Hope you're having a good time wherever you are.

xoxo, Braxton

She smiled to herself. Her best friend, Braxton. Of course he was behind all of this. He knew her well enough to know that any of her plants dying would result in a major panic attack on her part. He was the only other person with a key to her apartment as well, but after the last few months events, she wasn't sure if someone else had chanced a visit…

Poor Braxton. She hadn't been able to tell him where she was this whole time. He would have been worried sick, missing her when she never answered any of his calls or texts. She pulled her phone out again and looked up his number in it, dialing as quickly as she could.

"Hello?" He picked up almost immediately.

"Brax?" She hadn't realized how much she missed the sound of his voice until now.

"Becca? OMG you have got to be kidding. Do you know how many times I have called you?"

She pulled the phone away from her ear long enough to glance at her voicemail app, the notification icon displaying the number 782.

"A few times. Listen, can you come over? I need to talk to you."

Without a pause, he answered. "Girl, I am five minutes away. Hang up, and I'll be at your door."

"Thanks Brax. See you in five." She hung up.

Sure enough, less than five minutes later, there was a knock on the door. A quick, excited tap-tap-tap-tap. Becca hurried over but paused, looking through the window to the side before slowly opening the door. She peered out and glanced around, checking the scene. Braxton swung his head to the side of the door, looking confused.

"Where you expecting someone else?" he asked.

Becca shook her head, allowing the door to open completely. There was Braxton, her best friend, her partner in crime. He stood there with his blonde perm, bright blue eyes and big smile, waiting for her to let him in. She stepped to the side so that he could enter, and he had to duck slightly because of his height. As soon as she had shut the door behind him and turned, he scooped her into a hug bigger than any she had ever had before. The fact that he was so familiar and so tall made her comfortable. She could have stayed in his arms all night.

"Uhg, I missed you!" He pushed her out to arm's length to examine her. It was then that her sleeves pushed up slightly, exposing her bruised forearms. He stared at them for a minute, a look crossing his face, first of confusion, then recognition. He clenched his teeth.

"Where have you been Becs?"

She hung her head. Taking a step forward, she threw her head into his chest and began to sob uncontrollably. He held her there for a few minutes, then coaxed her onto the couch and sat down next to her.

"It was Ryan, huh?" he murmured, more to himself. "I should have known. Rebecca, why didn't you call me?"

Still crying softly, she looked up at him with big, wet eyes. "I couldn't. I swear." She wrapped her arms around herself and cried even more.

Braxton got up and went down the hall in the direction of her room, walking back with a blanket. Then he went to the kitchen and brought out a glass of water. He wrapped her in the blanket and handed her the water, returning to her side and pulling her in close to him, both arms around her.

"I won't let him ever hurt you again Becca. I promise." He smoothed her hair.

Quietly, she stopped crying. Eventually she was able to sit up on her own. Braxton smiled at her, sadly, but it was a genuine smile nonetheless. They sat in silence for a while, staring at the walls and the floor and everything but each other. Then, suddenly, Braxton screamed.

Prim had come running out of the bathroom down the hall where she had been hiding. The little white bullet of fluff pounced on Brax, yipping and barking.

"Becca! What is this?!" He squealed, pushing the dog off of him.

"Prim!" she shouted, grabbing her by her pink collar and setting her in her lap, where she continued to growl. "Prim, it's okay, that's Braxton."

At the mention of his name, Prim sat down and went quiet. She stared at Brax quizzically. The she marched across the couch and sat down in between his folded legs and pushed her head into his stomach.

"Brax, that's Prim. She's, well she's heard a lot about you."

Prim looked up at Brax and stuck out her tongue.

"Rebecca, why on Earth do you have a dog? You don't even like dogs!"

At this, Prim let out a disgruntled snort. Becca scooped her up and nuzzled her in close.

"Ryan got her for me. I couldn't just leave her there, he hates her! If I didn't feed her, nobody would. She would have died, or worse."

Braxton pet the top of Prims head. "Well then I guess she can stick around." The little dog began licking his hand.

They sat in the living room for another hour or so. Becca lost track of all time. She was just happy to be home and safe, and with her best friend.

000

Becca woke up with a start and sat bolt upright. It took her a moment, but she slowly realized that she was on her own couch back at her apartment. Braxton was on the opposite side of the couch, his legs resting across hers, snoring gently. Prim was curled up next to him in a tiny white ball of fluff. Becca sighed, and a smile came to her face. She was very glad that Brax hadn't gone home last night.

She got up and walked over to the kitchen. Lucky for her, there was still coffee in the cupboard. She started a pot, letting the smell waft around her sunny kitchen. Rebecca loved her kitchen. There was a huge window over the sink and stainless appliances surrounded by white cupboards, which she had painted yellow and green lemons on. Normally, it was stocked with all of her favorite foods, but now there was nothing. She made a mental note to have Brax take her shopping.

She returned to the living room to find Brax, shirtless and stretching on the couch. He let out a particularly large yawn and then his normal grin lit up his face.

"Morning Becs." He mumbled, rubbing his face. "Do I smell coffee?"

She nodded and walked over to the couch to hug him. He rested his head on her shoulder and wrapped his arms around her, squeezing the air out of her. She giggled and squirmed to get away, but she was no match for his muscular arms. Finally, he released her.

"Becca, I love you. But I can smell you over the coffee. You need a shower."

She shoved him playfully, sending him sinking back into the cushions. She knew he was right though, and she headed into her room to gather her shower kit. As she slowly opened her bedroom door, a wave of memories crashed over her. She remembered moving in and decorating everything with the dark wood and blue, having Brax stay over in here, flipping through magazines, her parents taking a million pictures because their daughter was an interior design genius. It seemed like it had been forever since she had been in here, and it made a lump swell in her throat. She knelt on the floor by her bed, running her fingers over the cool sheets.

"You okay Becs?" Braxton was in her door way, concern lining his features.

She looked up at him and nodded, but the exhaustion was clear in her eyes.

He looked thoughtful for a moment, running his fingers over his unshaven face.

"You know what? We're going out tonight. I'm taking you to Lavie, buying you some drinks, and helping you forget all about Ryan. He isn't here Becs. He can't hurt you anymore."

He sank onto the floor next to her and smiled. "What do you think?"

She mulled it over in her head. Lavie was her favorite club in Teransom, the very place she had met Brax. Maybe being out and feeling alive again would make her feel better. But then again, maybe it wouldn't. Maybe he would show up.

"I can see you overthinking this in your head." Brax commented. "Let me simplify this for you. Do you want to come to Lavie with me?"

Another moment's hesitation, and her mind was made up. "Why not?"

He grinned widely and lunged across the floor to hug her again. Then, he instructed her to take a quick shower so that the coffee wouldn't be cold by the time she was out. After she gathered up her towel and her body scrubs, she locked herself in the bathroom and did just that. She would have liked to take a long, hot, soak your face off kind of shower, but she was ready to start putting her life back together. When she got out, she picked up her phone to check for notifications. There were three, one email, one update, and one text. She stared at the text, reading it over and over again, her heart racing.

Hey. Did you make it to your apartment okay?

The nine words danced on the screen, blurred by a sudden onset of tears. Ryan was texting her to see if she had made it home. The thought made her want to take her phone and smash the screen into bits, get a new number and forget his. The fact that he could still reach her made her sick. She walked out of the bathroom, wrapped in her towel and went to her room to get dressed. Most of her clothes were in the boxes in her car, but she found some skinny jeans and an ACDC tee to wear. She glanced into her mirror, noting that her long red hair was wet and wild, running uncontrollably down her back and over her shoulders. She brushed it out until all of the knots were gone and pulled it back into a ponytail, exposing her green eyes and curved lips. She looked in the mirror again, and was pleased to see that she now looked somewhat normal.

She entered the living room with a smile and a slightly happier air about her, despite the message on her phone. Braxton was across the way in the kitchen, stirring up a mug and a tall glass cup. Becca took her coffee warm, and Brax took his over ice. Prim was dancing around the table, barking every so often at anything that would move.

"How was your shower Becs?" Brax asked, passing her mug.

"Good." Did she want to tell him about the message from Ryan? Of course. "Ryan text me."

Before the words even left her mouth, Braxton had crossed the floor to her and held out an outstretched hand.

"Give me your phone."

She complied, and he opened it to her messages. She watched his blue eyes run across the words, then fire crossed them. He turned slightly so that she couldn't see what he was doing, and then he handed back her phone, his face cold.

"I blocked his number. You won't be hearing from him any time soon." He said stonily.

"Brax- "

He held up a hand that signaled her to be quiet. "No. Don't say anything. He doesn't need to be texting you, ever. He doesn't need to see you, hear from you, or even think about you. If he knows what's good for him, he will forget you exist."

She knew he was right. Ryan didn't deserve her attention, even from this distance. Yet something strained inside of her when he spoke, and she set the coffee down. Brax frowned and walked up to her, grabbing both of her hands. She looked away from his intense gaze, knowing that if she looked, the battle was lost. What she was battling, she didn't know.

"You need groceries." Brax said, releasing her. "We can go shopping before clubbing, and get our nails done."

Brax proceeded to take over the entire apartment. Folding the blankets on the couch from the previous night, washing the coffee cups and coffee cups, starting a load of laundry with Becca's towels from her shower, and helping her unload her car and put everything away were among the things that he felt he was "obligated" to do. And of course, he made her sit on the couch with Prim and watch. Finally, he was ready to leave for the store.

"Are we taking your Explorer or my car?"

Outside, Rebecca put on her sunglasses and held her arms tight to her chest. She looked around nervously, making sure that no unusual cars were parked out in the lot. The only car that wasn't there all the time was Braxton's blue mom-car Mitsubishi.

"Let's take your car." Less chance of her being followed.

They got in and drove all the way to the Walmart, which wasn't very far from her apartment. The entire way there, Braxton talked on and on about how they should get their nails done, wondering if he could do her makeup for tonight, and what snacks they needed for when they came home too drunk to cook. Rebecca remained relatively silent. She wasn't worried about tonight, because everyone at Lavie knew her and Brax. It was about the safest place for her to be, especially because she had befriended several burly ushers and bartenders who she knew had her back. She was, however, worried about Ryan, who knew where she lived and how to get in, popping up at any moment and forcing her to go back with him.

An abrupt stop brought her out of her thoughts. They were in the middle of the road, and the car behind them swerved and honked their horn as they passed. She looked up in surprise at Brax, who was taking off his seatbelt and getting out of the car. In the middle of the highway.

"Braxton Andrew, what are you doing?!" She shouted, watching as more annoyed drivers swerved around. She took off her seatbelt and opened her door, rushing to the front of the car where Brax was.

He was squatting down, staring at something in the road, about two feet away from his front left tire. Upon further inspection, Rebecca saw that it was a turtle, rolled up inside its shell. Braxton glanced up at her, but seemed more occupied with the turtle. He picked it up by its shell and carried it across the two lanes of highway traffic to the grass on the other side. He came back to a grudgingly smiling Becca with her arms folded. He grinned back, and crossed to his side of the car.

"A turtle? Seriously?" she punched him in the shoulder. "You almost gave me a heart attack. Were you trying to get us on the news for a 15-car pileup or something?"

He just smiled and got back in the car. She did too, and they made their way to the Walmart. It didn't take long for Brax to get what he needed and shoo her away from the alcohol section. No drinking at home, he said, and not at this hour.

Next, they went to some salon that Brax found on Google Maps to get their nails done. The lady didn't even blink twice when Brax, and intimidating male, said that he wanted inch-long blood-red pointed acrylics. Rebecca stuck to some stylish lavender colored square tips with gloss. She usually would have gotten long, fancy acrylic dips with chiseled points, but today didn't seem like a day to be herself. In fact, if it weren't for Brax, she would have died to be anyone else. She looked over at him, sitting in his chair with his legs crossed like he owned the place, one hand on the table getting polished and the other done and swiping through Instagram on his phone. She knew she was lucky to have a friend like him. If Brax hadn't been there for her, she might not even be here today.

000

Rebecca was sitting on a barstool, mascara running down her face, stirring the tequila that she wasn't drinking. There weren't that many people in Lavie tonight. Maybe because it was a Tuesday, and almost one in the morning. Today was also her 21st birthday, the year she was finally allowed to go to Lavie, allowed to drink. She had been drinking for years, but tonight she was legally out to party with her friends. The friends that didn't show up. Her tiara that said 21 in bold lettering lay abandoned on the bar, meaningless to her now.

The bartender came over and threw his towel over his shoulder, a typical bartender move. He rested his elbows on the counter and leaned down to speak so that only she would hear him.

"Honey, if you're done with that drink, I can take your cup and call you a cab. You look like you need to go home." He was obviously was trying be nice to her, but she wasn't in the mood to be told she needed to go home.

"I'm fine." It was a little blunter than she wanted. "You can switch me out for a shot of whiskey though."

"Make it two, and I'll buy them." A voice came from next to her. A blonde man slid into the chair next to her. He didn't look quite old enough to be there, there was too much childish light in his eyes. She turned to look him up and down, taking in his bulky, muscular structure and the sheer height he rose to.

"Listen, I know how this looks, but I'm really not in the mood." She said to him.

He looked at her and tilted his head so that his long blonde hair fell into his eyes. "What, I can't buy a pretty girl a drink?"

She rolled her eyes and shot him a glare. This didn't seem to bother him, because he smiled devilishly and picked up her crown.

"21 huh? New to the drinking game and already having a rough time."

"Can I help you?"

"Sure. Let me buy you that whiskey. My names Braxton, by the way."

"I told you I don't want to be picked up." She was getting really annoyed now. The bartender retuned with two shots, and regardless of who was buying them, she took them both and drank them, one after the other.

Braxton looked on with an amazed look on his face that quickly turned into a smirk.

"Forgive me for misjudging you." He signaled for the bartender to bring two more shots. "Let me tell you something. If I wanted to pick someone up," he looked aimlessly around at the people standing in the club. His eyes landed. "It would be more like that." He pointed, and Becca followed his finger with her gaze. It came to rest on a handsome young man with dark hair and a full goatee. Her eyes widened.

"Sorry." She said, looking at him again with disbelief. "You just don't look…"

"Gay?" He laughed and rubbed his chin. "I sure get that a lot. Now instead of apologizing," that smile again. "Tell me your name and let me buy you a few shots. Promise it'll be worth your while." He winked.

"I'm Rebecca Born." She held out her hand for him to shake, and he did,

"We are going to get along great, huh Becs?"

000

She smiled at him now, sitting in his spa chair. He looked up from his phone and smiled back at her. They had known each other for three years now, all starting at her lowest point and possibly one of his highest. Still, she couldn't express how much she was grateful to have him in her life.