by violadavis

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Selina Locke needed a break—not in the way of becoming successful overnight, as she had already been doing a great job with her fame, but in the way of escaping from celebrity drama, her radio show, her dead hamster and her closed-off roommate. That's the main reason why she took a three-month break to spend the summer under the scalding sun of Barcelona.

She gets her well-needed relaxation period, alright. Working as a bartender at night and as a sunbather by day certainly has its perks, especially in a place where no one knows who she is or what she has done, even if her days are counted and there's always something threatening to ruin her short-lived happiness.

Remus Rossi wouldn't say he's in some sort of a slump. When his bandmates give him an ultimatum, threatening to call off the tour unless he pulls himself back together and stops sulking in bars at late hours in the evening, he decides to take one last night for himself before getting back to work.

He almost thinks Selina can help him escape from this black hole. Almost.

The only problem is that she can't carry her own emotional baggage, let alone other people's.

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"Because, Selina, I care about you!" Remus insists, hands flying up to his hair, and Selina's throat and lungs catch on fire. Though he has raised his voice in frustration, he's not yelling at her—he's frustrated with the situation, not with her. It's the most important distinction she could be making at the moment. "I care about you and I like you—a lot, actually—and I just wish you'd talk to me; I wish you'd talk to me and tell me why you're so scared! Is it . . . is it because of your parents? Do you think we'll end up like . . . like them?" He gulps, tears glistening on the corners of his eyes. "I know you have baggage, but so do I; so do your parents, so do our friends, and so does everyone else. You carry it, but it doesn't mean other people can't help you lift it when it gets stuck in a hole on the sidewalk."

There are many reasons why—one of them is Selina simply not wanting to give in and crumble in front of him by admitting she's, in fact, not scared. She's utterly terrified, so paralyzed by fear she mostly functions on auto-pilot when it comes to decisions regarding her love life.

Remus, having been nothing but patient, would, most likely, sit down and listen to the entire explanation, as if he didn't have a life outside of her apartment, outside of whatever their relationship—outside of her. He'd do it in the blink of an eye, but it's not something she can simply spill out in an afternoon. Not even in a week. It's not an achievement you can simply unlock by being there for a certain amount of days, waiting for her to build her trust in you.

It never works out. Truthfully, she's the only person she can blame for everything that has gone wrong. She's to blame for her fears and insecurities, for the chaos she drags around with her everywhere she goes and for the emotional baggage weighing down on her shoulders, the one she has always been destined to carry.

She wants to tell him she's the only person who can carry said baggage. She wants to tell him she wants to take that leap of faith and fall right to his arms and forget about every single thing that's wrong.

Instead, all that comes out is,

"My mother. I don't want to end up like my mother."

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