. One could argue that things might've been going further south—only resulting in a colourful string of curses, exasperated sighs, and frenzied eyes. Maybe that was all we brought to the table, chaos and truckloads of wit. The mistakes were easily spotted: hitting the road late afternoon, not checking the weather beforehand, booking a car which could possibly be a carrier of a dead-something, with the way it smelled.

We all hoped it was a rat. I wasn't sure we were prepared for being caught driving with a dead body of a human.

"Maybe third time's the charm, guys," Chloe had nervously stated, eyes fixed on the dark clouds in the sky. The weather looked terrible, pitch black with a hint of the colour of smoke at just 7 P.M. "Maybe third time's it for us..."

Raymond had other problems. "We're low on snacks again."

Xavier, who was sitting in the driver's seat, fumed, "Are you fucking serious? We're low on gas—that's what's important! And there's a storm stirring up that could possibly be the end of us all."

"I know it's not the mood right now," Leo paused, but continued anyway. "But that was poetry, man."

The rearview mirror barely survived the glare Xavier drilled into it. His gaze was easily readable: I would run this car into the nearest tree, but I do not wish to go to hell with you guys by my side.

My senses were held by part-panic part-nervousness, anxiety settling in the air and on our awkward grins. I should've known we were terrible at this thing. Last time had proved to be almost lethal, and yet—

We never learnt.

"There's no way we are driving in this weather," Stella groaned. "Do you see the sky? It's going to pour tonight."

"Why must I always be face-to-face with death every time I travel with you guys?" Sean rubbed his temple, words strained. His hair was sticking out in all directions, a true personification of this series of unfortunate events. "Someone has to have hexed me."

Chloe sighed. "How does one not look up the weather report before travelling?"

You tell me. Leo huffed, chin on his palm. "If you're so in disbelief, why did you miss out on it?"

"Laura, look for hotels nearby," Xavier slumped his shoulders, cutting through a conversation which could possibly break out into a useless fight. "You should all be so glad I decided that we leave a day prior. We'd be done if he was performing today."

He got us there. If there was an ounce of logic left in us, it was all thanks to Xavier Henderson and his calculated plans. Without him, we'd probably be arrested for something illegal we managed to do but did not realize along the way.

The air was cold. As wind nipped at my skin harshly, thoughts often circled back to our exams, the preparation, or the lack thereof. We had ditched the last-minute preparation on impulse, whether or not anyone agreed to it. I only had slight trouble convincing my parents. Liam had a lot to say, but his views held no importance when mom and dad were around. Mom's face was mildly concerning—irises enlarging and lips pulling into the biggest grin, as if finally seeing her daughter do something right in life for once.

I was bothered when she'd said she was proud of me, but had kept quiet. As long as I got to go, I could manage whatever Mom's brain was conjuring up. To her, Evan was already the best for making me do something as daring as this.

Again, I had nothing to say to that. If only she knew he had no idea.

Dad, on the other hand, was upset. He didn't try hiding the fact, but Mom's eagerness and excitement overpowered any emotion of his. He agreed, although reluctantly and on a promise that I won't do too bad in the tests.

I had said: hopefully. Because you never know.

So far we had no regrets. But the trip was young, the night was young, and the weather was certainly going to be the end for us if we didn't figure something out. Quick.

"I, uh, found a hotel?" I mused aloud, and everyone's attention cemented to me. "But I'm not sure if it's alright, or if it would even have availability."

"Beggars can't be choosers, mahal," Stella sighed. "We'll take what we get."

▂

"THERE IS NO WAY WE ARE STAYING HERE," STELLA REYES SHOT BACK. Her back arched, muscles tense, as she gave inspected the so-called hotel I had managed to find. On the inside, the place looked empty and less shabby—walls beige and peach, reception desk leaning towards a side. There were a couple paintings hung on the wall, crooked and scruffy, and a fountain at the entrance which wasn't working.

On the outside, it looked much less a hotel and more a place fit for people who wanted to run into all sorts of unearthly creatures.

It was a sight, that much was sure.

"Laura, how in hell did you surf the internet to get this?"

Someone was clearly not taking what they were getting. I rolled my eyes. "I already told you I wasn't sure if this hotel was...okay."

"Okay?" Raymond ran a hand through his golden hair, eyes large. "This place looks like it's going to fall apart!"

"Well, we kind of are in the middle of nowhere, and this is our best bet!"

"I would rather sleep in the car, tolerate the God-awful smell, and get struck by lightning," refuted Leo.

"Technically, you cannot be struck by lightning inside of a car," Xavier reasoned. "The electric field inside it is zero and it acts as—"

"I am not in the mood for a Physics lecture, you nerd."

"I do not know any of you," Chloe walked a good distance away, eyes on the floor, mortified. "You do know the staff can hear us, right? Can you not be assholes for one day?"

The knots in my stomach tightened. This was a situation I would've gone to the ends of the earth to avoid, but had miraculously walked right into. This was a madness of sorts, blindly following all of us every time we decided to pick up a vehicle and go for a ride. Perhaps we had been cursed, and Sean was right all along. With how our cards played out every time, nothing was too strange to consider.

I just wanted today to end. Tomorrow would be better.

Tomorrow had to be better. Evan was performing. I'd see him, after weeks' worth of wait—and on stage. The thought in itself set fire to any momentary dire situation I got put in.

"I'm sorry, but there's only three rooms available," the receptionist reverted back.

We walked to the makeshift-looking lounge to mull on the news, then, where the air smelled citrusy and like a pinch like earth. Stella had patted my shoulder, saying something along the lines of not getting any sleep, but my eyes wandered to the other side, and my jaw unhinged itself just a little.

Tiredness was catching up to me, eyes deceiving, because it couldn't have been.

I took a singular step. Conveniently, he turned around, and—there was no way. None at all.

I almost did a double-take. What was he doing here?

"Evan?" my voice was low, quiet. There were still chances I was picturing things, probably going crazy—

"Laura?"

It was him. Of course it was. The universe hated us plenty, and they had to add him to the mix in the most obvious of ways. How fitting.

He was twice as shocked, steps hurried, and I couldn't help drifting my eyes to the rest of the guys as reflex. Perhaps a plea for help. Why did I call out for him? We could've gotten away, and God—nothing was going as planned.

"Laura," he paused, unsure. His sleeves were rolled to his elbows, shirt sticking to his torso. "What are you..."

His eyes spotted Xavier. His eyes widened. His eyes narrowed.

It all happened in milliseconds.

Oh, we were doomed. The more I thought, the more I felt that this fate had been written in the stars from the very beginning. And I felt ridiculous for calling him out from the other end of the hallway, but it had been pure instinct. Sheer disposition.

"What in the—"

Leo rushed over, smacking Evan's chest, and then his back. "Hey, man! Did not expect to see you here!"

The latter's reply was flat. "Likewise."

Raymond's cheeky grin worsened every second that passed.

"It's good to see you, dude!"

"Cannot say the same."

This was not what surprising him entailed.

Stella was cupping her mouth so she didn't laugh aloud. Xavier held a palm to his forehead, clearly done, and Chloe stood awkwardly, eyes darting between me and Evan. I had no idea what to do. How was one supposed to act in such circumstances?

"I guess you do know what this means," Leo took one for the team, slightly ashamed. "And now that you do...we're sort of in a trouble."

"Let me guess," Evan quirked a displeased brow. "You don't have enough rooms."

Sean cursed aloud multiple times, before turning to Evan and asking: "Why are you here?"

"The very same reason you are—the weather switched up on us at the very last moment. Desperate times call for desperate measures, I guess, even if this is a disturbing coincidence," he shook his head. "So, who's my roommate?"

A pause—one which felt eternal—stemmed.

And then: everyone's eyes fell on me.

Stella nudged my shoulder. "Laura, why don't you adjust for us?"

Excuse me? I widened my eyes. "I..."

"Yeah, Laura," Xavier had the audacity to send my way a very discreet smirk. "Do us a favor."

My cheeks were overheating. I tried to think of a better alternative, but nothing came to mind. "Guys—"

"If you do this, we can evenly share the rooms," Stella mused, lips pursed. "Please." Translation: Do us all a mighty service and get locked up in the same room. The two of you.

I was incapable of forming a response, and they took it as an agreement.

"So it's decided! I guess we can start getting ready for bed," Chloe yawned. I did not miss the look in her eye. "Tomorrow's a long day, after all."

Oh, for the love of God. I couldn't believe they just did that to me. Peer pressure was fucking real, and I despised all of my friends.

"Hey." Evan had grabbed my wrist, I noticed, breaking me out of my trance. "You good?"

His words were so faint, I couldn't help but agree. He smiled, then. And I realized that I had forgotten. Forgotten how long it had been since I had seen him smile, felt his physical presence, or heard his voice in person. I tried to see if something was different—maybe in something as trifling as the ruffled collars only he could pull off. But Evan Parker remained the very essence of midnight callousness with gentle undertones: an enigma for the mind, and a delight for the heart.

The worst part of it was how it had been mere days. A day away felt like a lifetime; a time period paralleling many, many golden eons. I wanted to do nothing with the feeling of knowing what that was like.

"You're okay with this, right?"

He pulled me back and I could barely nod, because I didn't want him to get bothered by something like this in its hindsight. He had enough to be crowding his headspace. I chanted: it's okay, it's okay, it's okay, because I knew I could use the feeling of things being under control as we walked down lobbies doused in pale pink.

Stella had winked right before I could turn on my heels.

I had returned my best death-glare in time.

▂

OF COURSE, THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED.

I wasn't sure what I had expected in the first place. The headboard seemed like it was barely holding it together, bed a little smaller than my liking and comfort, tapestry on the wall pulled to a side and duct-taped with missing precision. I was beginning to understand today could (personally) turn out to be the worst day ever, but was also convinced that others weren't having a great time either.

Evan, who was stood beside me, groaned. "I hate this stupid hotel."

There was no couch. I tried not to overthink, but my brain seemed to cross a dangerous territory every-so-often, and it only made heat crawl up to my face.

"An effort was made, I guess," I laughed. "It really is falling apart, though."

He glanced over, amused. "Well?"

Well... "There's one bed."

"My eyes can tell," he took a couple steps to the window, pulling the blinds to a side. "So, what do we do?"

Don't ask me that. Beds were for sleeping—yes. We were to sleep.

Dumb. This was so stupid. Ludicrous, and so much so, it made it exhausting. I didn't know what to do, so I took a step and took a seat.

It screeched. For a second, I was positive I had already broken the bed, and violet terror trampled on my chest. When air entered my lungs again, I managed to mutter, "Dude...," silence. "It's going to break."

He paid me no heed, eyes perched outdoors on the mist in the air. "It looks calm outside."

Calm? I tiptoed to him and stared out the window. The sky was brighter—moon clear and magnificent, something I got lost in fleetingly. "It was pouring seconds ago," I sighed. "Universe literally set us up for doomsday."

Evan rested against the wall, grinning, and for a moment, my eyes drifted to his arms—lean but defined, muscles outlining the black shirt he wore. I wasn't sure when black had become my favorite colour on him. He looked good in possibly anything, and yet, black shirts on him had a power nothing could surpass.

I almost anticipated a comment on how openly I had stared. It was either that he went momentarily blind or had just ignored me, because he didn't say a word.

"You do this often?" He asked a question instead. "Stare at the moon?"

"And what about it?" I put on a front, because his question felt like a jab. "I like looking at pretty things."

He titled one side of his mouth, gaze fixated. "We've got that in common, then."

I couldn't look away. And funnily, moon wasn't the thing holding my sight captive anymore.

He pushed himself off the wall, stepping farther from the window. I wasn't sure if I was glad because there was more distance between us, or because he couldn't stare at me whilst I tried to slow the beating of my heart. It was loud, probably the loudest sound in this room. I wondered if he could hear it, or if he chose to ignore that, too.

I wasn't sure of any goddamned thing which included him anymore.

"Sorry, what were you saying earlier?"

A million little alarms went off in my head at the mere mention. My feet walked back to where I was previously seated, and as if to prove a point, I pressed my palm to the surface of the mattress.

"We are going to break the bed."

I soon realized that inattentiveness was a mistake, because his eyes shot up and I had bundled up my words until they didn't make any fucking sense. "As in, like—not like that—the bed is just not fit, I assume, for two people, and basically...," fuck this. I hated conversing. I pulled my shoulders together. "You need rest for your performance, so I'll manage on the floor."

This was humiliating.

Of course he laughed with everything in him. Of course this was peak comedy. Of course I wanted to disappear. "Laura," he pointed out, "You're red."

All men had was the audacity.

He blinked when he saw no reaction out of me, folded his arms, and then sighed. "I'm not letting you manage on the floor. It's okay," he shook his head. "I'll sleep on the floor."

I snorted. "You must be severely unhinged to think that you can do that."

He narrowed his eyes. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"You are having a hard time adjusting already." I wished that was enough to remind him how he was hating every minute fragment of the room. "And I mean, I understand. I know I won't relate to rich people struggles, but I can sympathize."

He let out a lifeless laugh. "Since you care so much about me, we share the bed, sweetheart."

I just wished he would stop using that word. The term of endearment always caught me off-guard—heart jumping up and lodging my throat.

And I only nodded because I hated this topic of discussion. We could deal with it when we were facing the issue, because night had barely creeped in as moonlight snuck inside, falling on his profile in a sliver of silver. I wasn't tired enough to go to bed the first thing in this ruin of a hotel, even if the yawns I stifled spoke otherwise.

I would prolong it for however long I could. And I wanted to talk instead—probably make up for all that I wasn't caught up on.

I sat on the very corner of the bed, folding my legs in a crisscross. "How are you feeling?"

"If you're asking about the nerves, I've never been better," he observed me with a grin and dropped on the opposite end, drawing his legs together in a lithe movement. "Honestly? I'm slightly overwhelmed, but trying not to think of it much."

Overthinking was the only way I thought, so my brain could never.

I saw him pause in doubt, lips tilted in the littlest frowns. He never continued, though, the rings on his fingers being toyed with.

"You can talk about it if you want," I posed. "I'll probably not know what's the right thing to say, but I'll be here to listen."

"You being here is enough," he stated. I could feel his eyes on me. Some things went unnoticed without ever being noticed, and he was starting to be a part of those who had the presence—one larger-than-life itself.

When I shifted my focus back to him, his jaw was tensed. "I just hope I am what's expected of me."

"I believe in you," I reminded him, in case he'd forget. I would say it as many times as I needed to. "Heaps of people would expect something tailored to their tastes out of you, and I can only imagine how daunting it will be. But if it makes it any better, I want to tell you that I'm not, and won't be. I trust in you enough."

"And because I never got to say it," I laughed. "Congratulations, and all the best, Evan."

The lack of a response permeated seconds too late. My cheeks felt warm when I averted my eyes back to him, only to find him reeling—initial reaction sheer shock, then morphing into wide-eyes and unhinged jaw.

I glared, because I knew what was coming.

"Is this really...you?" He audibly gasped. A hand was clutching his chest, but the smile was playing just the same. "The Laura I know? Because she sure as hell doesn't say shit like this."

Of course, I should've expected some theatrics.

"You make me sound like an awful person."

"That's what was implied."