feel real, even as we turned the corner down my road.

Mum had already gone by ambulance and settled in the house. I'd wanted to go with her but the nurse had had to be the extra person. And, I knew, I wouldn't have been able to stop from crying.

Miles hadn't said much since we'd heard the news and honestly, I wasn't complaining. Him being there, just there, was all I needed right now. Every now and then, he'd glance over at me, make sure I wasn't going into one. When he did it for the fifth time, I held my hand out, a comfort to him as much as it was to me.

Miles took his eyes away from me, a sad smile pulling at his lips. He frowned. "What the fuck?"

I leaned forward to see out of the front window.

Outside my house and those neighbouring our's, vans and more cars than I could count were all lined up outside. I looked behind us to see the rest of the road clear.

We pulled over.

Now closer, I could see those dotted around on the pavement all had cameras strapped to their fronts. My heart plummeted and I felt my stomach churn uncomfortably.

One of them glanced over, a large man with an even larger mid section. His crow-like eyes lit up when he spotted us.

"There they are!"

I'd never seen people react so fast.

One minute, they were dawdling, chatting amongst one another and the next, they were swarming around us. Even from inside the car, we could hear to clicks of their cameras, accompanied by the blinding flash as they tried to get closer and closer.

They were yelling things. But their voices were fighting with each other, so all that could really be discerned was a lot of gargled noise.

"How's Archer?"

"Are you still together?"

"Is he going to visit?"

"How did you and Archer meet?"

Rounds and rounds of questions, all pretty much the same— all revolving around Archer. It felt like each one was squeezing me tighter, that hand around my neck crushing my air pipe. And the door wasn't even open yet.

Miles and I looked at each other.

"What's going on?" He asked, putting a hand up to the window as a camera forced its way to his window. The flash of it illuminating the car.

"I don't know," I said, face probably as white as each flash.

"Let's keep driving," he said, leaning forward to the man at the wheel. "We'll come back when they've gone."

I put my hand on his arm. "They're not going to just go." I knew if they were desperate enough, they'd be here all night. And by the looks of the amount of stuff they'd brought with him, that wasn't so improbable. "Let's just get this over with."

No sooner had I stepped a single foot out of the car and we were being hounded by men and women alike, being shouted at in all directions. They asked whether various rumours were true and about mum. How could they possibly know? I could hardly breathe.

It felt like with every flash, every shouted question, more and more of my energy was draining away— like I could actually see it drifting over the houses nearby and dissipating into nothing. I wanted to scream at them to leave, to give me space, but I could hardly walk let alone say anything.

The walk to the front door seemed to take longer than it ever had before.

I thanked god the door was unlocked and I didn't have to fuss about with the key.

Once in, I slammed it shut with both Miles and I staring at each other, wide eyed.

***

I sat by kitchen window, overlooking the poor excuse of a garden we had, whilst the nurse fussed about mum upstairs. It was overgrown and untended and I knew just how horrified mum would be if she had the strength to walk over to see it.

A cup was put on the window sill in front of me. I watched the steam rising for a bit, feeling Miles hovering over me.

"Was it you?" I asked.

I refused to look at him, even as I felt his confusion rolling off him in waves. "What?"

"Did you tell them?"

"What are you talking about?"

I turned. "Did you fucking tell them?" I gestured outside to where I knew the photographers were still waiting.

His eyes scanned my face, trying to find something in my expressionless features. "Are you being serious right now?" He realised quickly just how serious I was. "No! Of course not! I'm not some—" he sought for the words amidst his outrage. "— some fame hungry monster."

I'd had a lot of time to think over the past hour. The idea had been festering too long, infecting my mind and spreading like the plague.

I knew I was being irrational, totally out of order but my mouth was open before my brain could tell it otherwise.

"I need you to leave," I said, my mind feeling as though a bomb had gone off in it, leaving only remnants of thoughts, of sense. "Please." It was almost a beg.

His eyes glowed with anger and... hurt. I was too numb to feel bad, to feel guilty.

He put his own cup down. "Fine." He picked up his jacket from the chair and made for the door. He turned to me just as he was about to go. "You know your problem Jolie? You push away anyone that could possibly ever care for you."

The door slammed, hard, on his way out.

The nurse care down a moment later to see me still there, unmoving.

"I've given her the maximum dosage of pain medication," she told me. "She's very drowsy. She's sleeping now."

I looked to her and nodded.

She took her bag from the kitchen counter and went towards the door. It was almost refreshing for her to be so matter of fact and not throw me those sympathy looks you could feel from a mile off.

I heard the door opening, her having to put her weight into it to get past the stickiness. "Oh," I heard her say, startled. My ears peaked. "Are you a friend of...?"

"Yes." I heard the definitive answer, just over the shouts from outside.

The gears in my mind were startled into action when I recognised the voice.

I heard the distinct creaking of the floorboard as they crossed paths, the door closing between them.

I turned.

Noah Ramirez stood in my kitchen.

"Jolie..." he began to say.

I put my hand up with a shake of my head. "I don't want to hear anything about Archer right now."

"That's not why I came," he said, stepping forward.

I analysed him for a moment, before springing myself into his outstretched arms. He took my weight, amiably, arms feeling as if they were the only secure thing around me at that moment. We stayed there for several minutes, neither needing to say anything or moving all that much, beside the occasional stroke of my hair.

I wondered, for a split second, where Autumn was and then where Archer was, before forcing those thoughts out of my mind.

I leaned back from him. My voice was quieter than I'd expected. "Thank you."

"You don't need to thank me, Jolie," he said, wiping away the treacherous tears that had fallen down my cheeks, not even because of mum but being overwhelmed with his kindness. "Even you need someone to look after you sometimes."

"I've made a mess of everything," I whispered. "Again."

He took my hand, eyes unwavering, no room for me to argue. "You haven't made a mess of anything. Everything can be forgotten and moved past. You've acted emotionally, something many people wouldn't be able to do."

I nodded, limply, even if my brain would only be momentarily relieved of guilt.

"Would you like anything?" He asked.

My eyes caught sight of the now cold cup of tea on the side. "Tea would be nice."

"How very british," he said with a smile as he went over to the cupboard, in search of a mug. Once the kettle was boiled and he'd found the tea bags and milk, he came back over. He almost looked apprehensive. He bit his lip, struggling to maintain my eye. "I still haven't perfected the art of making a good cup of tea."

I looked down at the slightly too milky for me cup. "It's perfect," I told him, managing a small smile.

He raised his brow. "I know you're lying," he said. "But I appreciate it."

"I'm not!" I was. I brought it to my lips. "Mmm." My eyes widened when it actually touched my lips. "Jesus, that's hot."

"I'd like to draw your attention to an invention of my own," he said, going back around to the other side of the counter. He pointed to his left. "I call it the kettle."

I cracked a smile despite myself. "You're an idiot."

"Would you have it any other way?"

He knew the answer as well as I did. I really wouldn't have it any other way.

"Actually," I said, putting my milky tea to the side to let it cool down, feeling my top lip start to blister. "You could do something for me." He nodded for me to continue. "Could you please try to find Miles. I sent him away and I shouldn't have. I need to apologise."

"Do you know where he went?"

"Probably the co-op," I said, almost smiling at the thought. "He once told me he went to the pastry aisle to relax."

He picked up his keys, twisting them around his index finger a few times. "Give me half an hour."

I poked my head around the door when a familiar voice met my ears.

"I just need a few minutes," I heard the voice say.

Archer stood on the step, a sight of perfection, as usual, to the naked eye. But, maybe because I'd spent so much time staring at his features or maybe because his was the only face I could think of when I closed my eyes, I noticed the deep shade of purple beneath his eyes and the frown— so different from his usual one— marring his features.

My mind whirled. "A few minutes," I said. "No more."

Noah looked to me before nodding. "I'll leave you two alone," he said, before giving me a side hug and going out the door. He closed it, catching my eye as he did and offering me a reassuring smile.

I stood in my hallway, alone, with Archer Redwood. I wondered how many people would kill to be in this position right now.

I led him into the living room without saying anything.

I turned to face him, needing a lot more strength to do so than I'd first expected.

"Why are you here?" I asked, arms crossed across my chest like some sort of defensive barrier, like it would protect my heart somehow.

"I wanted to apologise," he said, those azure eyes staring into my own. "For using you, for lying, for hurting you. You have to know it wasn't my intention."

"What was your intention then?" I asked. "What did you honestly expect to happen?"

"I didn't expect to fall for you like I did."

I turned my back to him. "Fall for me?"

He stepped forward, eyes almost pleading. I caught his fingers twitch slightly by his side as if everything in him was telling him to reach out to me, but he resisted the urge.

"I love you, Jolie."

I stepped back, holding my head. "I can't be doing this right now."

"Just tell me I'm not alone here. Please. Give me something. Anything."

"I mean it Archer. Not now."

The sound of the door opening felt like a godsend. Even if it was slammed, roughly.

"Jolie!" Miles' voice rang out. "I heard the dickwad was here so I came as fast as I could." He appeared round the corner, jumping lightly on the balls of his feet as if ready to have a throw down with Archer. Though they were similar heights, Archer was much broader than him so I didn't fancy Miles' chances.

"I understand that," he said, granting me a bit more distance between us. It wasn't enough. Miles came to stand by my side. An immediate wave of solidarity ran through me.

"I'd like you to leave." I was under enough emotional duress as it was. The last thing I needed was for Archer Redwood to be standing in front of me, to be admitting his love for me. I'd combust.

"Jolie—"

"I'm pretty sure she asked you to leave, arsehole."

Archer kept his eyes firm on me but nodded. "Okay. I've had my few minutes." With that, he made his way back into the hall and the door shutting behind him was the last thing I heard.

I turned to Miles. Before I could even attempt to apologise, he was capturing me in his arms.

"I'm so sorry," I mumbled into his chest. "You were right. I'm so sorry, Miles."

He put his hand on the back of my head, soothing me gently. "Don't apologise. I'm the one that needs to. I was selfish. I can't imagine the situation you're in."

"I didn't mean what I said."

He shushed me. "I know. I know."

Suddenly, Noah appeared at the doorway. He looked overexerted, breathing heavily and sweating slightly. Not that he looked as I would if I were on his position. Instead, he made sweating and looking like he was about to collapse an Armani trend.

"How are you so fast?"

"Had to get out of punishments somehow," Miles said over my head. "Ohh yes," he said suddenly. I took my head from his chest to see what he was referring to. I chuckled despite myself when I saw the twisted pastry in Noah's hand. "I've been needing that all day."

He looked down at it. "Oh, this you mean?" He paused, momentarily, before raising it up to his mouth.

"If you dare."

He let out a sound of outrage as Noah refused to head his warning and took a huge bite out of it.

My amusement was short lived as I heard a weak calling of my name. Faster than I would've thought possible, I ran up the stairs two at a time and stumbled my way into my mother's room.

Jolie," my mother croaked. I stopped her, aiding her with her water first. "Who's downstairs?"

"Just Miles and Noah," I told her. I went to turn away. "I can ask them to leave if you want, mummy."

"No, no," she said, raising her hand as if to brush away my suggestion, but too weak to do so as it dropped limply to her side. "I like there being noise in the house. The silence is evil."

"Okay," I told her, stroking her hair. "You get some rest."

She nodded, eyes already looking heavy. "Apologise that I can't say 'hello' to them."

"You don't need to apologise."

Before she could fully reply, she'd drifted back off to sleep.

By the time I got downstairs again, I heard the distinct sound of hushed yelling. I turned the corner, frowning to myself at what the hell was going on when I walked into the kitchen to find Miles and Noah in a heated argument, yet still conscience of keeping their voices down.

"Why would anyone cook paella in the microwave?"

Miles put his hand on the counter, slowly, as if wanting more than anything to slam it down in frustration. "How else are you meant to rice?"

Noah shook his head, waving his hand elaborately. "This is blasphemous."

"That's the one with religion, dingbat."

"Paella is my religion, capullo."

"That better have been 'handsome' in Spanish or I'm going to spit in your precious paella." Miles turned to see me there. Immediately, he turned away from Noah.

"What are you guys doing?"

"Cooking." The both said simultaneously.

"Well, I'm cooking," Noah said. He motioned to Miles. "He's just being a pain in my rear side."

"Back side of rear end," Miles emphasised. "Pick one. Don't squash them together."

Noah muttered something incoherent in Spanish that I doubted was all too polite.

Miles pretended to not have heard him. "You look exhausted."

"Gee, thanks."

"Lie down, Jolie. And sleep. By the time you wake up, you'll have a beautiful meal by your's truly." Miles said. Again, a string of under breath Spanish could be heard from Noah.

"Okay," I conceded. I let him lead me to the sofa, where he draped a blanket over me. "Please don't kill each other." I was suddenly very aware of all the utensils in the kitchen that could be used as weapons.

Miles hushed me once again. I hadn't realised just how tired I was until I closed my eyes and had passed out a second later.

***

Once Miles and Noah had gone later that night, not that either had been too willing to do so, I realised what Mum meant about the silence being evil.

I would have taken months on end of Noah and Miles' bickering over the dead of the night. They hadn't killed each other in the end or burned the house down and had actually made a really lovely meal, but the insults being thrown at each other were never ending. It was getting grating. And yet, I missed the company and even the arguing. Just some sound other than the rain outside or my own breathing.

I pushed myself up from my bed. I couldn't sleep when Mum was next door, so frail.

She looked even worse, if possible, in the scarce light. The little light that was shining into her room only emphasised the hollowness of her cheeks and the deep lines scarring her skin.

Mum's eyes struggled open when I eased myself into the space beside her.

"I love you, Mum," I found myself saying, wanting to say over and over and over. I wanted to go back in time and shout it to her in every which way possible every day of my life. But for now, this would have to do.

"I love you too, sweetheart."

Like I had done as a child so long ago now, I crawled into her side. She let me snuggle beside her, placing a frail hand across my back.

I knew it couldn't, wouldn't last but I found myself sleeping beside her. At peace.