Episode 7 - The strongest people aren't ever perfect

In all honesty, Tuesday's lunch period was the perfect time to fall out of it. Normally, Cleopatra would be making her way to the cafeteria, but today, she was so out of it that she could barely get herself out of her desk. Sure, Biology wasn't her favorite class, not in the slightest, but she could normally pay the slightest bit of attention to what was being said. Instead, today, she couldn't even remember what had happened two minutes ago, let alone what they had talked about in class. So, instead of going to lunch and sitting with Jasmine, Mark, and Kyra again, she decided to just skip the whole period altogether. She didn't want to risk falling apart on them.

Cleopatra figured that was how she ended up on the bathroom floor. She leaned back against the wall, her head in her hands and her knees pulled up to her chest. During these periods, she knew the bathroom remained forgotten. It had all of last year when she and Bailey would retreat here to be free, so she figured it would be the perfect place to have a breakdown. She let go of her head for a second, wiping a few stray tears from her face, and staring at herself in the full-length mirror. What a stupid, ugly mess, Cleopatra thought to herself bitterly. She fiddled with her frilled dress, smoothing out a picture of a gothic-style skull before sucking in a breath and crossing her legs Indian style, letting her head drop into her hands once more. Biting her tongue, she held back a sob, afraid to cry. Why did this have to happen now?

"Cleopatra, are you okay?" There was shifting as Cleopatra blinked, brought back to reality by someone kneeling in front of her and setting a hand on her shoulder. She had a guess from the voice, but when she looked up, she was greeted by the familiar face of Monet Ivory. Cleopatra gently pulled away from Monet's touch and wiped her eyes again, sitting up straight and fixing her mask, unable to let Monet see her in such a state.

"I'm perfectly fine," Cleopatra replied harshly, her words clipped in a way that she normally only had when talking to Kyra. Monet didn't look convinced, but she didn't look like she had it in her to argue, so she just sighed and nodded her head. Monet shifted back on her heels and let her backpack drop onto the floor by her feet.

"Yeah, I figured," Monet said with a shrug. "But would you..." She paused for a second as if debating whatever it was that she wanted to say. "Would you want to have lunch with me? Isa will probably join me anyway, but we normally just eat alone. You don't have too but I thought I'd offer." Cleopatra was quick to shake her head. The sounds in the cafeteria would just overwhelm her and she didn't even feel like eating. And forget having lunch with the person who just caught her hiding away out here, about to have a panic attack. Cleopatra didn't think she could even leave the bathroom without calming her racing heart.

"I don't feel like going to the cafeteria right now, thank you," Cleopatra said quickly. Her tone was kind enough but her words were anything but that. Monet shrugged her shoulders again and stood up, picking up her backpack again. She seemed so calm by all of this. Why was she so calm?

"Who said we'd be eating in the cafeteria?" Monet asked, turning to the wall behind her and grabbing what appeared to be a guitar case from next to the sink. "Why don't we just have lunch right here. Isa and I have been doing it for a couple of weeks now anyway." Cleopatra made a slightly disgusted face and stood up, leaving her backpack on the floor at her feet.

"That cannot be sanitary," Cleopatra responded, smoothing her dress out again mostly out of habit. Monet smiled a bit and walked over to the last stall, opening the door to the biggest stall in the bathroom.

"It's not like either of us really eats anyway," Monet replied, setting her things down. With a sigh, Cleopatra realized that she would be spending her lunch period here. She knew that if she didn't want to have a bigger panic attack, it would make more sense to stay away from the cafeteria. If she did leave, she'd lose any ground that she was gaining with the club and with Monet. So long as she was tolerating the club, Bailey wouldn't do anything rash. Then maybe things would turn out fine.

"I had no idea you played guitar," Cleopatra said, walking over to join Monet at the bathroom stall. The raven-haired girl shrugged her shoulders and laid her jacket out on the floor. She sat down but didn't look up at Cleopatra, crossing her legs Indian style and pulling a music folder out from her backpack. Hesitantly, Cleopatra joined her on the floor, kneeling down carefully.

"I actually only just started to play again yesterday," Was all Monet responded with. She opened the guitar case while Cleopatra watched curiously. She took the guitar out and checked the chords, strumming to make sure that it was in tune. When she was finished fiddling with the guitar, Isa showed up at the door.

"I didn't realize this was going to get so popular," Isa commented, slipping her backpack off her shoulders and sitting down on the floor across from Monet. Monet offered a smile to Isa and Cleopatra shifted back slightly. "And you've brought your guitar again! That's exciting!" Monet shrugged and started to dig through her sheet music again. As Monet did that, Isa turned to face Cleopatra. "Tell me. How did you end up here?"

"Monet just invited me to sit with you guys today. I didn't have anything else to do," Cleopatra lied through her teeth. She didn't want to tell Isa the real reason she was in here. She didn't trust Isa that much yet. Isa just shrugged and nodded her head, pulling out her computer from her backpack.

"We don't really do much in here, so don't worry about it being loud or anything," Monet replied as she shuffled her songs back together, her selected song out in front of her. Cleopatra nodded her head in response, glancing around the room to try to understand why they did this. Why did they choose the bathroom of all places? Monet must have noticed her looking around because she shot Cleopatra a smile and spoke again. "It just gets so loud in the cafeteria, y'know? We just couldn't handle it anymore." Cleopatra looked back over at her and nodded her head.

"A blanket would definitely do you some good," Cleopatra noted, folding her hands in her lap. "It would make this place a whole lot more comfortable." Monet paused, her hand hovering on her sheet music. Isa's fingers lingered on her keyboard but she looked up and tilted her head.

"You mean, like a picnic?" Monet asked curiously. Isa laughed quietly and nodded her head excitedly.

"It's a bathroom picnic! I love the sound of that!" Isa replied, her voice tinted with excitement. "That's a brilliant idea, Cleopatra! You might have just made our little bathroom escapade a whole lot more exciting." Cleopatra only shrugged her shoulders in response. She didn't understand why it was such a big deal but clearly, Isa and Monet were going to keep this going for a while. She didn't get it, but it wasn't her thing either. She didn't get a say in what she thought of it when she didn't understand the sentimental value behind it.

That was the moment that Cleopatra had noticed that her panic attack had completely faded. Her chest didn't feel tight and her head wasn't pounding nails into her brain anymore. For the first time since she woke up that morning, Cleopatra felt calm and collected. She really wasn't sure what had even made it better but she was convinced that it had something to do with Monet. After all, talking to Monet was really the only thing she had done differently. So maybe, just maybe, this whole club thing wasn't a waste. Perhaps, she thought reluctantly, I don't hate this as much as I thought. Maybe I do actually enjoy this. And in all honesty, the club wasn't all that bad. Isa and Monet were really kind to Cleopatra, despite how much Cleopatra did not deserve it, and they talked enough that it wasn't awkward. And to top it off, she was seeing a completely new side to Monet Ivory. A more helpful and invested side. This Bathroom Picnic wasn't that bad of an idea. In fact, Cleopatra would even go as far as to say that it was a good one. Maybe skipping lunch in the cafeteria was the best idea she had all year.

"I vote we ride off of Cleopatra's blanket idea, Monet. I'll bring a blanket tomorrow. I've got this nice fuzzy one that will be awesome to have. Maybe you could bring a few pillows that we can sit against. You know, since we lean against walls and stuff. It'd feel a whole lot more like a Bathroom Picnic then," Isa responded, leaning on one hand to look at Monet. Monet thought for a minute before agreeing with a nod of her head, strumming a few chords on her guitar. Isa smiled and looked back down at her computer again, starting work on her book once more. "You know, Cleopatra, you're more than welcome to join us tomorrow, if you want. You should inform us of your thoughts on the blanket addition." Cleopatra smiled faintly and this time, she was sure that it wasn't a fake one.

"I think I'll have to." Sure, they wouldn't have been her first choice. And sure, she wouldn't have ever expected that she'd be spending her lunch periods in the back of the bathroom. But for the first time in a long time, Cleopatra felt as though she finally was able to make a new friend.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()

Jasmine groaned and threw herself against the back of her seat. Her hands covered her face and she rubbed it a little harder than she meant to, annoyed. She just couldn't figure it out. For years, she had wanted to write a movie script. After many failed attempts and horrible ideas, Jasmine had finally gotten one that she was passionate about, but there was just one scene that she couldn't figure out. And now it was driving her insane. She had her main characters, the twins Harper and Eve. She had her backstory and her set. She had all her plot and plot twists and she even had a vague idea of what the music was going to be. All that was troubling her was the opening scene and to Jasmine, was that just as bad as having nothing planned at all.

"Okay, let's try this again," Jasmine mumbled, pulling her hands away from her face and returning them to the keyboard. Maybe talking it out to herself would be the best way to figure this whole thing out. "I need a scene that establishes Harper and Evelyn's relationship. However, I also need the scene to be something that introduces the plot of the film, since it's only half an hour long. The only way to establish both of those things is to have the two of them together and have Eve playing guitar. I know that. But why? Why is she playing guitar?" Jasmine typed a few keys out on the screen, hoping for some inspiration, but when she came up empty-handed, she groaned again and bit down on one of her long nails, glaring at her computer screen. When she had started the whole idea, she had decided to write a story about twins, much like herself and Monet, but as she wrote the plot out, she realized that Eve was more like Monet than she thought and so she had incorporated the guitar into the piece as well. But that was when the whole plot spun on its head and suddenly, Eve's playing became the center of attention and Jasmine suddenly had no clue what she had control over anymore.

Because it certainly wasn't the opening scene.

"You know that having her just randomly playing just doesn't seem to add up. It doesn't add to the plot. Eve needs a reason to play." Jasmine blew air through her pursed lips and tugged at the single braid in her otherwise loose hair, wrapping it around her fingers lightly. She had no idea being a screenwriter was this hard. She really didn't give Isa and every other writer she knew enough credit. This job was ridiculously hard. Jasmine wasn't sure how long it would be before she completely lost it over this little scene.

"Who are you talking to?" Kyra asked as she made her way over to Jasmine, sitting down on the opposite side of the table. Jasmine glanced up and shot her detective friend a smile. Kyra didn't exactly smile back but she gave her a small nod and that was good enough for Jasmine.

"Just myself, honestly. I'm sorry. I look insane. See, I'm trying to write something and it just doesn't want to cooperate with me," Jasmine replied, shrugging her shoulders slightly as she spoke. A look of understanding passed through Kyra's eyes and she nodded her head. Her gaze then dropped to her hands, where she was playing with the edge of the gloves on her hands and Jasmine had to remind herself to look away. Kyra had her reasons and looking was just as bad as prying when it came to something as personal as that.

"Oddly, enough, I totally understand that," Kyra said, looking back up and letting her hands drop again. "What's it about? Maybe I could help you out." Kyra's offer seemed sincere enough so Jasmine decided it wasn't a bad idea to take her up on it.

"Without explaining too much of it, it's about a pair of twins named Harper and Eve. They're kinda complete opposites, but I suppose that isn't too important," Jasmine explained with a sigh. She loved the idea but it was giving her a lot of unnecessary stress at the moment. "Anyway, Even is a musician- she plays guitar and sings and all that- and she ends up running away to continue playing and starting a career and it ends up driving Harper insane with guilt. And a lot of people blame her for Eve's disappearance and all that." Jasmine leaned back against the back of the chair, though more calmly this time. "And yeah, I guess it's based on Monet and me, before you ask that because I'm sure you will." Kyra nodded her head but it was a few minutes later before she actually spoke again.

"Well, if it's based on you and Monet, why don't you just write about something that's special to you and her? Something that the two of you do together? Even if it doesn't make it into the final product, it's definitely a good way to get ideas flowing." The advice itself was simple but suddenly, Jasmine had a clear memory in her head. Seven-year-old Jasmine bolting into Monet's room after hearing her parents arguing again and begging her sister to play guitar to make her feel better. It was a simple image, a memory she had shoved to the back of her mind once the divorce had become finalized because it had brought back too many painful memories that she hadn't been strong enough to hand. And yet, that was the perfect way to start her film. It was simple but showed everything that she needed it too.

"I... How did you do that?" Jasmine asked, pulling herself out of the memory and looking over at Kyra, confused. "How on earth did you do that? You knew exactly what I needed to start this film." Kyra's only response for the minute was a shrug of her shoulders and Jasmine jumped at her keyboard again, typing up the vague idea that would soon become the opening scene of her short film.

"It's really not that big of a deal. Sometimes, you just need to look at things from a different perspective," Came Kyra's nonchalant response. Jasmine smiled and shifted her weight on the chair, sitting Indian style on the average desk chair. "I mean, that's how I solve most of my cases. Sometimes, you're just looking at it in the wrong way and you need to get a new set of eyes on it. I didn't really do anything. You just got to look at it from a different point of view. Instead of asking how you could make it like you and Monet, you saw how you could make them act like you." Understanding flooded Jasmine's face and she smiled, finally getting it.

"I guess I'm not the only one around with a philosophical view on the world now," Jasmine said. Kyra only shrugged again and stood up from her chair before Jasmine could offer for her to stay.

"Everyone's got their own views on what a philosophical view is," Kyra replied rather quickly, fidgeting with the buttons on her gloves once more.

"It's only a matter of how you choose to look at it. Am I right?" Jasmine agreed, nodding her head. Kyra gave her a quick nod of her head to agree. "You know something, Kyra? You need to share your views a bit more. You're really smart and you're an observer. You have a lot to say and everything you do is valuable. Your thoughts are really interesting when you actually get to hear them." Kyra froze, staring down at the floor, before sighing. Her next words sounded distant, her voice the next step up from a whisper.

"When you've seen everything that I have, it's a guarantee." Without leaving a goodbye, Kyra left, disappearing into the crowd of people in the hallway as the passing period started. Kyra was a wallflower, Jasmine finally decided. And that was why she was so glad she had taken the chance to invite Kyra to the Rejects Club in the first place. After all, Jasmine might have lived in a constantly changing world, but she'd never find another person like Kyra. Not even in her crazy world that Jasmine called Hollywood.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()

"You're ninety-nine point nine percent positive that you can't help me out with my homework?" Mark groaned from Jasmine's desk. He spun around in her chair to face her, watching her flip upside-down on her bed and flip through video footage on her camera. Jasmine giggled at his question and shook her head, barely giving him a glance.

"No, I've already told you that! Like, eight times. I've got to get this video edited for today. You can do your own homework, you're not a baby." Jasmine glanced over at him again and flashed him a smile, throwing up her signature peace sign to seal the deal. Mark just playfully scoffed and rolled his eyes, turning back to look down at his homework again.

"But it's hard, Jas!" Mark whined, looking through the extensive list of history questions that he had to fill out for the next day. Jasmine's only response was to throw one of her slippers at his head. Mark laughed and took the message as her final one, only taking one more second to throw the slipper back at the blonde actress laying across her bed. Then, he was back to the homework with less enthusiasm. Of course, the one class he was working on now had to be his least favorite class of all time. History. He had always hated History homework. He didn't understand all the facts and dates and he really wasn't sure why he needed to know what caused all the events to happen anyway. So, he had mostly resulted from leeching off his friends. While Jasmine was analytical, her best subjects were Math and Science, since she had strived to take college courses in her junior high years. If he really wanted help, he should be asking Monet, but of course, she wasn't here. She had to fill in at the last minute for another Martial Arts assistant, so that left him and Jasmine alone to do whatever they felt like that night.

So, of course, homework came first.

"Okay, but should I keep this part in?" Jasmine asked, rolling off her bed and heading over to her desk where Mark still sat. He paused his homework and looked down at the camera Jasmine was holding in front of him. When she was convinced she had his attention, she played the video. "I'm not too sure and I don't want to make the video longer than it has to be but I kinda like this part." Mark watched the scene play out in front of him on the screen, silently thankful that he had a distraction from the homework. Once the video had ended, he chuckled and nodded his head.

"Yeah, definitely keep that part in. It's entertaining to watch you fail," Mark deadpanned. Jasmine choked on her next words and smacked him lightly on the back of the bed. He winced slightly but laughed and turned around to watch her jump back onto the bed. Jasmine plugged her camera into her computer and he knew she was scrolling through the files, pulling out the camera feed that she had just shown him for her video. "You're adding it in, aren't you?" Jasmine stuck out her tongue at him.

"You don't see me with anything better to do!" Jasmine whined slightly. He chuckled and shut his computer, moving over to sit down next to her on the bed. "Plus, that'll push the video to be fifteen minutes long instead of thirteen, which will be nice because then it's an even number kinda thing.

"You and your obsession with even numbers. You really need some help, don't you?" Mark joked, leaning over her shoulder to see what she had already done for the video. Jasmine huffed and pushed him away lightly before leaning her head on his shoulder and shifting so she was comfortable. She worked on her editing while Mark laughed slightly. "You're aggressive today, aren't you?"

"I'm an angel, I haven't the slightest clue as to what you're talking about," Jasmine chuckled, glancing up at him. Mark turned to glare playfully at her, a false confused look decorating his face.

"You're a little monster, you mean," He teased right back. Jasmine laughed and looked back down at her computer, scrolling around the screen and clicking on a bunch of different things that Mark didn't really understand to finish the last bit of her video. Mark watched with interest for a few minutes before ultimately getting bored and working his phone out of his pocket, careful to not shift too much so Jasmine didn't move her head from his shoulder. Once it was out of his pocket, he finished up his History homework right there on his phone instead of on the computer where he had started it. He didn't mean to be lazy, really. He just didn't want to disturb Jasmine when she was in a hyper-focused mode and so comfortable next to him. And somehow, History became a whole lot easier to learn and he finished up the homework around the same time that Jasmine finished the last bit of her video.

"You know what I should do?" Jasmine asked, not really expecting an answer. Mark only hummed slightly in response, watching her move her mouse up to click play. The last watch through of the video where it would be only hers before it went online. "I should ask for one of those touch screen computers that fold in half to make a tablet. And they've got that cool stylus that you can use on it. It'd make editing so much easier."

"That definitely sounds like something you would ask for," Mark replied with a nod of his head. "You should add it to the list of what you want for your birthday." Jasmine chuckled and laid her head back down on his shoulder.

"I mean, it'd legitimately be the only thing I'd get, but I guess it'd be worth it," Jasmine responded with a slight shrug, watching the video play out of her screen. "Anyway, I think this video is done. What do you think?" Mark looked back at the screen, finally giving it more attention. "I mean, all I'm really doing is talking about my experience on the Miss B 2 set. It's not all that interesting but now that the trailer launched today, they said that I could post this. Plus, I've got that interview about it on Sunday in the city with the local news station. And we're flying to New York that Friday to talk about it with the whole cast. But the movie doesn't even come out until January, so there's that." Jasmine sighed after saying all of that. "And this is exactly why I'm not a Hollywood girl. Could you imagine that being my life? All the time, every day? Ew." She made a face before chuckling. "Well that, and I'm best friends with a loser like you."

"Hey! no! You know what? I won't be the one to ruin your career!" Mark laughed, nudging her with his shoulder. Jasmine chuckled again and laid her head back down on his shoulder.

"Nah, that'll definitely be my fault. Though, given where I'm at right now, as long as I'm not stupid, I can't fail. I'm way too good for that." They watched the video play for a minute longer before Jasmine got bored and hit the download button. "Good enough. I'm sure it's fine." The video started to download itself to her drive, making it possible for her to upload it to her channel. Though the bar would slowly tick up so it would be quite the wait to upload it.

"You do need another computer. Just for editing. That way, you're not wasting all your space on your hard drive for your videos," Mark said, watching as Jasmine worked her magic. Jasmine nodded her head, shifting on the bed so that her computer laid out in front of her and she could lean on her knees now.

"Yeah, but that's why I use a crap ton of flash drives. Though, I am running out of space on this one. I like to keep the separate videos with the completed one so my space on my flash drive fills up way too fast. I swear, I can't step into the tech store without them knowing exactly what I need by the time I pull up." Jasmine laughed softly and pulled open her browser, opening up YouTube and heading over to her channel, prepared to upload her video.

"I guess I know what I'm buying you for your birthday," Mark chuckled, leaning back against the wall comfortably. "I'll just buy you a whole box of flash drives so you don't run out for a while." Jasmine laughed again and looked up at him, a teasing look on her face.

"You'd be my favorite person."

"Aren't I already your favorite person?" Mark teased. Jasmine rolled her eyes, elbowing him in the side lightly. Mark knocked her head lightly and she scrunched up her nose as she spoke again.

"Okay, how about the title of 'The tea on Miss B' for the video. How does that sound, Mark?" Mark chuckled and shrugged his shoulders.

"You're making it sound like you had a bad experience, you clickbaiter," Mark replied. Jasmine stuck her tongue out at him and rolled her eyes. She returned her attention to the screen and typed out the title before moving down to add tags.

"Okay, hashtag tea... Hashtag Miss Blumer and Mr. Jack... Hashtag Jasmine Ender..." Jasmine said, speaking her tags out loud as she typed them out on the screen. "And now the description." She scrolled her mouse down and clicked on the text box to add a description to the video.

Mark was quick to reach over and nudge her hands out of the way, typing his next words on the keyboard. "Today, I am click-baiting you into thinking that the experience I had was awful when it's literally the exact same experience that I've had every time I've been on a Miss B set." Jasmine groaned and shoved him off. She took her computer back and turned away from him.

"Mark! No! You're so mean!" Jasmine whined playfully, deleting what he had typed out. "You're actually going to ruin my career!" She started to type something else out for the description, typing as she spoke. "To everyone who reads my descriptions, hello! I love you! Mark is a jerk and decided to try to take over my channel slowly!" Mark chuckled and lightly kicked her in the leg. Jasmine squealed softly and jumped out of the way. "You jerk!" She shifted so that she was leaning against the back of her bed. "Okay! Fine! I'll delete the part about you! Deleting it now!" She deleted the description once more. "Just, like, give me three more minutes and then I'll be completely done. I swear. Then we can do anything else." So, he pulled his phone from his pocket and patiently waited for her to finish. Once she was finished, she groaned and closed her computer. "The internet's out. Of course, it's out when I'm ready to upload." She jumped off her bed and stood up, stretching slightly as she moved. "Come on. Let's go fix it."

"Why am I being dragged with you?" Mark asked with an obviously annoyed tone. Jasmine gave him a stern look before grabbing his hand, attempting to pull him up. Mark only stuck his tongue out at her, sticking to his place on the bed. That made Jasmine only pull harder. The harder she pulled, the more her socks slipped. The next thing she knew, she was on the floor, still gripping Mark's hand tightly. Mark burst into laughter the second it processed and squeezed Jasmine's hand lightly to comfort her.

"You're so mean!" Jasmine blew a puff of air through her lips and groaned. "Now you have to come with me! Since you laughed at me and all. It's okay fair." Mark chuckled and shrugged his shoulders, standing up. He pulled Jasmine back up on her feet and the blonde actress rolled her eyes, brushing off her clothes. With a small glare and a playful glint in her eyes, she smirked, one that Mark returned, before racing out into the hallway. Mark laughed and took off after her. The two of them ran down the hallway and the stairs, pushing and shoving each other as they moved. The race only ended when they made it to Melissa's office, where the WiFi box was kept. Jasmine's hand was on the handle but she paused when she heard voices from inside the room. She was quick to shoot Mark a look, willing him to be silent. Doors were never shut in her house unless it was a serious conversation. Judging from the voices, it was Melissa and Tommy, which was interesting because Tommy never had any drama in his life, being in second grade and all.

"Why can't you make it to my game?" Tommy asked, though his voice was muffled by the door. Jasmine sighed and leaned back against the wall, folding her arms over her chest and attempting to return her breathing to normal.

"Because I've got to go to New York with Jasmine then. She can't go all by herself," Melissa responded. His tone was soft and distressed, obviously upset by the situation. Mark knew that Melissa even had made a habit of coming to his performances back when he had cared about sports, so missing Tommy's game must have been killing her. "I'm really sorry, buddy. If there was a way that I could make it, you know I would be there. But Jasmine really needs me to go with her and I need to be there for her as well." Tommy groaned and huffed. It wasn't hard to picture him throwing a small tantrum in the room over the situation.

"But you never come to any of my things anymore! Never ever anymore! You're always going to Jasmine's things! I want you at my game, Mom. Why can't Jasmine just go by herself?" Next to Mark, he heard Jasmine take in a sharp breath at Tommy's angry tone and he reacted accordingly. He took one of her hands from where she had tucked it up her arms and gave it a small squeeze. Jasmine cared about her family a lot and to be unable to give Tommy what he wanted was destroying her. Jasmine's gaze jumped up from the floor to Mark's eyes and he gave her a small smile, one that her poor attempt to return didn't do her any justice.

"Tommy, you know that's not true! I go to all of your games. As many of them as I can. You know that. But this time, Jasmine needs to be in New York and she needs me to go with her. She can't go by herself. Even if she was allowed to, she doesn't want to either. And I'm really sorry about that but we've had this planned for a long time now. I can't come to this game," Melissa said. She didn't sound angry or upset at Tommy, just tired and a little heartbroken. "But Daddy's going to be there. And Rosie. And I can see if Monet and Mark and Julia can make it to your game as well, okay? You'll have all those people at your game. That'll be fun, right?" Jasmine squeezed Mark's hand this time and although she was staring at the floor again, he knew that the conversation was tearing her heart up. Mark squeezed her hand back, unsure of what to do now that he was caught in the middle of Jasmine's family drama.

"I don't want them at my game. I want you there," Came Tommy's response.

"But I can't, I already told you. Jasmine needs me to go with her and she doesn't want Daddy to go with her. She doesn't feel comfortable with that, okay? So I have to go. But I'll be back for your next game, is that fair?" Melissa sighed, almost as if she wanted the conversation to be over with. Tommy groaned and stomped his foot lightly.

"Why do you have to go with her? Why does she have to go at all? Why can't she just stay here?" Tommy whined. It was the normal whining that an eight-year-old child would make. And then, Tommy continued. "You're not even her mom! Like, her real mom! You're mine! Mine and Rosie's. Jasmine doesn't even call you Mommy or Daddy Daddy. But Rosie and I do. Doesn't that mean that I'm more important?" There were times that Mark knew some words would never truly fade away and judging from the gasp of pain that Jasmine made, he knew this was one of them. Her hand gripped his tightly and Mark knew her heart had just broken into a bunch of scattered pieces. Glancing back over at her, tears slid down Jasmine's face and she shuttered softly, as though she was trying hard not to cry. Gently, Mark reached up to brush the tears from her face. Jasmine whined and reached her arms out for a hug, one that he was quick to accept. Pulling her into his arms, he hugged her close and tightly, rubbing her back soothingly.

There was no blaming Tommy's age on the low blow that he had just inflicted on his sister.

Melissa went from sad to angry in a heartbeat. "Tommy, that is enough! That is unacceptable. Jasmine is just as important as you and I will not have you saying that about her. If Rosie got sick, would you be mad at me for missing your game to stay with her?" The pause had no doubt been where Tommy was responding with his head. "Exactly. If Rosie was sick, you wouldn't be mad at me. Why is that?"

"That's because she's my sister," Tommy replied honestly. This time, Mark felt as though he had felt Jasmine's heartbreaking in his hands. Jasmine let out a small cry, bursting into tears and hiding her face in the crook of his next and crying softly. Mark tried to get her to leave the hallway but she refused to move, almost as if she was stuck there.

"Exactly. That's my point exactly. Rosie is your sister and so she's important. Jasmine is also your sister and she's also important. Just because she doesn't call me Mommy or Daddy Daddy doesn't mean that she's not a part of this family. I don't think you know this but Jasmine had another family before she came to be a part of this one and she had another Mommy and Daddy before me. She doesn't feel comfortable calling us her Mommy and Daddy but that doesn't mean that she's any less a part of this family or any less important. Do you understand that, Tommy? Jasmine is your sister, just like Rosie is. I am going to New York with her and I will miss your game. There is no way around that. I am sorry." Melissa's response was angry and Tommy grunted, throwing a fit as he opened the door. Jasmine jumped out of Mark's arms and turned to face the door as it opened. She made eye contact with Tommy and attempted to wipe her face clear of her tears. Tommy only glared at her once he saw her, seemingly more angry at her than anyone else.

"Tommy-" Jasmine started before Tommy cut her off.

"Don't! Don't talk to me! I hate you!" Tommy cried out, running past her and up the stairs to his bedroom. Jasmine froze for a second, just long enough for Melissa to make it through the door, before she turned and fell back into Mark's arms. This time, when she burst into tears, it was gut-wrenching sobbing. Mark held her tightly, although he wasn't sure that his hug would do much when he was sure that Jasmine felt like she was dying, he did his best. He rubbed her back soothingly, rubbing calming circles once more and swaying slightly, shushing her softly.

"He doesn't mean it, Jas... Jasmine, you know he doesn't mean it," Melissa mumbled softly, although she looked uneasy herself. She carefully reached a hand out to rest it on Jasmine's shoulder, although Mark was sure that it wouldn't do much to comfort her now. "Tommy just doesn't understand it. One day, he will. One day, he'll understand that he was born with two sisters, but right now, he's just really upset at me. He's just mad at me and he's taking it out on you. Okay? You know he doesn't mean it."

"I..." Jasmine cried out, squeezing Mark tightly in her arms. He returned the squeeze lightly, hoping it'd comfort her somehow. "I want my mom... Aunt M, I want my mom... Please, I need her... I need her so much..." Mark's own heart broke and he hugged her tightly again, hoping that maybe if he hugged her hard enough, he could absorb her pain and make it his own. Jasmine, one of the strongest people he knew, was falling apart and there was nothing he could do to comfort her. There was nothing because there was no relief. Even though the truth had been there for six years now, Jasmine was still faced with the facts very day and Mark knew that there wasn't a thing he could say to fix this now.

"Hey, I know, Missy. I know. Trust me, I know," Mark whispered, giving her one more squeeze. There was no use in comfort words like 'it'll get better' or 'the pain will fade soon'. The honest truth was that it never really would. Instead, he knew that it was time to just let Jasmine when. When the girl spent so much of her time and energy making sure that she was strong for everyone else, she didn't need words like that. Because no matter what kind of person Jasmine proved she was for everyone else she met, Mark knew the truth better than anyone. Jasmine Ender was not a perfect human being. Deep down inside, she was just a little girl who had never been given a proper chance to mourn her mother.