"Why we still here?" Elliot asked.

She stood in a short white bathrobe, with cotton slippers on her feet, in a large tiled bathroom. Clean mirrors lined the wall with granite counters and porcelain sinks beneath them.

"To get pampered," Cece said.

She wore the exact same outfit Elliot did with her brown hair pulled into bun on the top of her head.

"Tortured is more like it," Elliot said, frowned. "This place. These people. It's all just...blaaaahhh."

"How eloquently you put that," Cece said.

Elliot stared at her sister, trying not to scowl.

"I'm serious Cece, why are we having a spa day with people we could never relate to or understand. Why are we here?"

Cece moved towards Elliot and dramatically put her hands on her arms, giving her a look of deep concern.

"Oh dear," she said. "I knew it would happen sometime but not this soon. Oh cruel world! Oh the fates!" She put her hand to her forehead. "Why has my sister's mind gone when she was so young. Had so much to live for! The horror!"

Elliot shrugged off Cece's hand and leaned against the counter, her arms crossed.

"Are you finished being dramatic?" she asked.

Cece dropped her hand and looked at Elliot.

"Are you?"

"I'm not being dramatic. I'm being serious." She waved her hand towards the door. "I know we joke about murder but in the last two hours I have seriously contemplated it."

Cece shook her head. "Yeah, well El, it's not about that. We're here for one reason and one reason only, to celebrate with Michelle." She waved her hand towards the door. "Will you ever be able to relate to her friends? No, but we don't relate to the majority of human beings so this is no surprise. Our job today is to focus on Michelle."

Elliot walked over to one of the wide wicker chairs, positioned by a fake palm tree, and sat down. She draped her arms over the sides and let her head fall back.

"It's not just Michelle's friends, it's everything else," she said.

Cece took the chair beside her and propped her elbow on the arm rest, her chin in her hand.

"How very specific of you," she said.

Elliot slapped her arm. "You know what I mean. It's being back here with the people that we left behind. People that were so different from."

When Cece didn't reply, Elliot looked at her and scowled.

"You're still on the give-it-a-chance-you-might-be-surprised-what-you-find train, aren't you?"

"I am. Seems for you that train has left the station."

"It was never at the station. You're just an idiot standing on an empty platform."

Cece crossed her arms, saying nothing, which infuriated Elliot all the more. Frowning, she let out a loud sigh and sank deeper into the chair.

"Why are we here?" she asked again, staring at the wall.

"You wanna go home? Okay, let's go home. Let's get on a plane and leave. Screw the wedding and screw the family. Let's just leave and never give talk to them again."

"Now you're being patronizing."

"You don't want to stay here, El. So why not leave?" Cece shook her head, giving her sister a sad look. "The thing is whether you stay or whether you leave, it would make no difference. You're still connected to them. You still care too much about what happened in the past. If you left it would be because you were running."

"And you all of a sudden don't want to run away?"

"No, I've decided I've runway enough. It's never going to be what it was, but it doesn't mean it has to stay with what it's been."

Elliot just stared at her sister, surprised.

"You explained it last night but I still find it hard to believe you changed your mind so quickly," she said. "Yesterday in the parking lot you could barely keep yourself from growling and now it's change everything you believe! Through caution to the wind! Give them a chance! It's a wonderful life! Live, live live!"

Cece held a hand up.

"Calm down Auntie Mame, I'm not going that over board."

"No, but if we were on a ship you would be pulling a Rose at the moment. I'm not your Jack."

Rolling her eyes at Elliot, Cece gave her a serious look.

"You know what our problem is?"

"We can't go a single sentence without using sarcasm? We make way too many literary and film references? We have a dark sense of humor? We struggle with letting people get close? We use jokes to avoid serious topics? We have an addiction to ice cream?"

"We hold onto the past too much," Cece said.

Elliot nodded and shifted back. "Oh, is that it. And here I thought it was because we are severely emotionally challenged."

"El, I'm serious. We've held onto everything we went through so much we can't see that we can let it go."

"The cold never bothered me anyway," Elliot said.

"Yes, it has. It's been with us for four years. Aren't you tired of freezing?"

Elliot didn't know what to say to that. Her past felt like an igloo around her heart and she didn't see how she cold melt it.

The door to the bathroom opened and Michelle appeared, looking around. She stopped when she spotted them.

"Are you two coming back out?" she asked.

Elliot and Cece looked at each other. When Cece offered Elliot an encouraging nod, Elliot didn't know how to respond.

**********

Pounding music beat against Elliot's ear drums and threatened to break them. Everyone around her seemed fine with the loud song and customized to being made partially deaf. The club they were in was decorated in gaudy neon lights. The dance floor was crowded with people bouncing and moving in a way that Elliot didn't think could technically be called dancing.

The bridal party sat in a sectioned off area filled with plush half moon couches and a low glass table at the center. The top was decorated with glasses in varying stages of emptiness or fullness, depending on how one saw life.

Michelle sat opposite Cece and Elliot, a pink sash with the word 'bride' written across it. Her and her bridesmaids all wore the same uniform, a stylish dress with thin stilettos. Their voices were bubbly with the affects of drink and their hands gestures made less sense than their words. Elliot leaned over to Cece.

"Did you know we were suppose to wear stilettos?" she asked.

"No, it looks likes we never got the memo."

"We should have known though, it is a party in the USA."

"That doesn't work. I'm guessing Ohio doesn't have this rule."

One of the bridesmaids said something and the crowd broke into loud cheers, all reaching for a shot glass. They picked them up and toasted each other, none of them aware that Cece and Elliot hadn't joined in. They tossed back their drinks and cheered once more.

Elliot sighed. "I would feel bad for being party poopers but this really isn't our scene."

"Dang! Did we forget what act we were supposed to be on stage for?"

"I don't know, maybe we're in the wrong musical."

"And here I was thinking we were part of a comedy."

"I think you mean tragedy."

"If one of us has to die, I pick you," Cece said. "At least I have Milo in my life, you have no one."

"You're right, I am the one to die," Elliot said. "From a knife in the back!"

Cece merely shrugged at Elliot's dramatics. The music pulsed on, the heavy rhythm nudging motionless people into movement, while their drinks striped away inhibitions. Bright lights flashed, as if the club were attempting to give everyone in it a seizure. The volume rose as a guy in his early twenties appeared with a tray of drinks. They all applauded him and bounced in their seats. The guy set the tray before them.

The bridal party pounced on the new assortment of alcohol with a glee that completely baffled Elliot. Cece let out a large sigh and crossed her arms settling back on the couch. Elliot glanced over and saw her staring at nothing in particular. She shook her head and looked back at the bridal party that seemed to never run out things to say or reasons to take another shot.

"You know what I miss?" Cece said.

"If you say Milo, I'm leaving you and telling that man at the bar that you're single," Elliot said.

Cece looked over and made eye contact with the dark haired man in reference. She rolled her eyes and looked away, successfully knocking down the man's ego.

"Fine. I won't say anything then."

"Good, because hearing how you are dating the pinnacle of creation is really not helping me. Especially when I couldn't even get a guy to fly across the country to come to my sister's wedding." She slid down on the couch and laid her head down on the back. "Gosh, why did I think that was a good idea? Now I have ruined everything." She put arm over her eyes. "Oh, why was I so stupid."

When Cece said nothing, Elliot lowered her arm and looked at her.

"This is where as best friend you say, 'oh no El, you didn't ruin everything, it will all be alright'."

Cece shrugged. "I see no reason to, he's not here and your last encounter with him went so horribly he ran from it screaming."

"He was not screaming."

"Milo had a different take on it."

"Milo's an idiot with a severe memory problem. But I already know that. He's choosing to date you despite what he already knows about you."

"Fine, your love life sucks so take it out on the one person who has one and would actually care about yours."

Elliot scowled and sank lower. The club continued to move around them, their energy never ending and their intoxication climbing. Cece looked down at Elliot.

"Honestly, El," she said, "I don't know what to say. I'm impressed you even asked him. You know I barely asked Milo. Even then he was already planning to come. You weren't stupid. It's his loss."

Elliot sat up, facing Cece.

"Was that so hard to say?" she asked, her face lightening.

"Yes, incredibly hard. I should honestly win the best sister award for being able to say that with a straight face and everything."

Elliot slapped Cece's arm. She shrugged in return.

"It is his loss," she said.

Elliot made a face and crossed her arms. "Yeah, tell him that because I don't think he thinks so."

**********************************************************************

Tomato paste! (That works right? That's a thing?)

Today we are talking about dreams! Whether these are the things that you have while asleep or desires you have for the future is up to you. All I can tell you about my sleeping dreams are they are vivid, don't make a lick of sense and usually make me feel exhausted.

Onto a lighter note! (I would sing because I said note, but no one would hear it. Except my family and they have accepted me for my weird quirks....kind of...on alternate days.) What are some dreams of yours? This could be big or little dreams. Dreams you have never told anyone. Dreams you are even scared to admit. These are a few of mine.

1. Get a book published.

2. (A crazy big dream) Be able to be a full time writer and travel while I write.

3. Visit Paris again.

4. Find someone who actually accepts my oddities and likes them.

5. Meet Patrick Rothfuss (writer of The Name of the Wind) and Lin Manuel Miranda (the man needs no introduction)

6. Always do what I love.

7. Meet you people someday!

There are mine, what are yours?

Live, Dream, Chase!