The smell of Naples filled Sky's nostrils as she wandered through the narrow streets of the old town - the smell of powdered sugar and grease, the fish market, sweat and perfume, the dust-covered cobblestone streets, the overflowing trash cans rotting under the blazing sun.

Naples was dirty and loud, it was wild and chaotic, it was rude and crowded and wonderful in all the ways that called to Sky.

She knew Dad hated it here in the south - he liked the stylish, organized renaissance cities of northern Italy - but Sky had always loved the real, raw beauty you found in places like Naples or Sicily. She loved the smell of limoncello and citrus trees, the taste of fried fish and squid, the sound of the rich, rough-around-the-edges Italian language that surrounded her here. This was her city and she swam in it like a fish in the water.

It was their first day in here, and she was jetlagged as fuck - but had decided to ignore it and go exploring anyway. Dad had meetings - the filming would start tomorrow in Pompeii - but he trusted her enough to let her out by herself. After all, it wasn't their first time here. Sky knew this city like the back of her hand.

She sat down in a small, cozy restaurant and ordered some deep-fried seafood, tomato salad, and a glass of white wine - surprised that she actually managed to pull that off. The drinking age here was 18 but Sky knew she didn't look that age - maybe the Italians didn't care, though. As Dad always said, the Romans drank wine since the day they were born.

Sky's head was still buzzing and she was dizzy after all those hours in a plane, but it all kind of blended nicely into the chaos that was Naples. While waiting for her food she didn't think about anything, her senses just taking in her surroundings - the group of American tourists passing by, commenting on the smell of the city with their wide Texan accent, the heat of the sun that was still almost too much even if it would soon go down, the music that echoed from inside of the restaurant to the terrace she was sitting on. The sea wind made the hem of her white, floral patterned summer dress move lazily around her legs, her hair escaping from the loose french braid on her neck.

Absentmindedly she pulled her phone from her purse and connected it to the restaurant's wi-fi. She had snapped some cute pictures while walking through the old town and wanted to send them to Hawk, but the messages started flooding her Whatsapp the moment her phone found the connection.

"What the—?" she clicked on the screen and opened the app. There were dozens of texts from Sam, which was a surprise. Sure, they had patched things up after the Valley Fest but still, Sam had been a bit distant ever since so Sky wasn't really expecting to hear from her.

She started reading, and soon she forgot her wine, didn't even notice the cute waiter who brought her plates giving her a charming smile. It was as if the restaurant disappeared around her and all that existed was this dark hole of messages that sucked her in.

No, it can't be true. I can't believe it!

And yet, it was too easy to believe. She could almost see it with her own eyes - Hawk trying to kick Demetri's ass over some stupid Yelp review - and getting into a fight with Sam and Robby.

Sky could barely breathe as she read through the messages. Her wine got warm, her food got cold as they lay untouched in front of her, nausea making her stomach clench tight.

The worst thing was, that there were no messages from Hawk. Not one. Not even a reply to her texts that told they had made it to Italy and everything was okay. The horrible lack of communication from Hawk could only mean one thing - that all Sam had told was true.

"Tutto bene, signorina?" asked a smooth voice and Sky looked up from her phone. The cute dark-eyed waiter boy was eying her untouched plate rather worriedly, and Sky forced a smile on her lips.

"Si, si tutto bene," she assured. "Grazie."

The boy left but kept observing her, and Sky forced herself to take a bite of the fried squid and a sip of her wine, before dialing Demetri's number.

"Good Morning to you. Or is it evening there already? Time zones are confusing." Demetri said, and Sky let out a breath she hadn't even realized she was holding. At least he seemed to be fine.

"Are you okay?" She asked and took another sip of the wine. "What the Hell is happening there?"

Demetri made a groan. "Shit. Okay, what have you heard?"

"That Hawk attacked you at the mall yesterday." Saying it out loud was almost too painful. Some part of her still hoped this was just a misunderstanding, a mistake of some kind. "Is it true?"

"Oh God," Demetri replied sounding desperate. "I really didn't want to be the one telling you this. Who let you know?"

"Not Hawk, if that's what you're wondering," Sky said. "I haven't heard anything from him. Is he okay?"

"Well I don't know. He got kicked in the head pretty bad. But I ain't calling him and asking how he's feeling."

"Jesus," Sky cursed - Sam had mentioned the same thing, and just thinking about it hurt Sky. "In the head? Who did that?"

"I really don't feel comfortable talking about this," Demetri said. "You're his girlfriend. He should be telling you this stuff himself. Besides, I don't want to get in the middle of things. He's gonna kill me if he finds out I've been talking about this to you."

"Demetri, come on," Sky tried. "You are my friend—"

"I don't know, Sky. You should've seen how he was yesterday. I don't think he's gonna be okay with us being friends anymore."

"Right now I don't give a shit about what he wants!" Sky snapped. "Are you okay? Did you get hurt?"

"I'm fine," Demetri replied with a sigh. "No thanks to your boyfriend though."

Sky's throat went tight, it was hard to even speak. "I know. I'm sorry."

"It's not you who should be apologizing," Demetri said, sounding sad and tired. "But anyway, thanks for calling."

He hung up, and Sky was left alone staring at the phone in her hands, feeling like she had just fallen into a black hole that had engulfed her whole. She didn't see the sunshine anymore, didn't hear the music. The food on her plate could have been dirt, there was no way she could make herself eat it now.

The wine though - she picked up the glass with her trembling fingers and emptied it with one gulp, making the waiter give her a rather judgemental glare.

Suddenly she felt like she would throw up. The smell of fried fish made her stomach turn.

Sky pulled out her wallet and took some cash - enough to cover her bill and some more - placed it on the table and rushed out of the restaurant without looking back, not even stopping to say thanks to the waiter.

She needed to get out of there. She needed fresh air, sea wind, and sun on her face. She fucking needed to call Hawk and hear him say it wasn't true, that it was all just some lie Miyagi-Do had made up—

Oh God, she needed Hawk's arms around her, she needed to breathe in his scent of salt and steel and cotton, needed to hear his steady heartbeat as she laid her head on his chest. She needed it more than anything, or otherwise, she'd go mad.

Gripping the phone in her hand, she climbed up the hill to the Piazzale di San Martino where she could see the whole city beneath her, the setting sun nearing the horizon, the beautiful Gulf of Naples, its curvy shoreline, and the turquoise water with whitecap waves, and of course, mount Vesuvius standing tall and threatening on the other side of the town, a picture of death and destruction looming over this lively city and its inhabitants.

She sat down on a bench and dialed Hawk's number, her heart ticking fast, restless in her throat.

"Are you okay?" she asked as soon as Hawk picked up.

A short awkward silence followed. Then Sky heard how Hawk cleared his throat. "What do you mean?"

So it is true. It's all true and he's going to lie to me about it.

Anger flashed in Sky's heart like an overflowing kettle.

"I mean your fucking head. Who was it? Who kicked you at that Mall fight? Was it Sam? Or Robby? Or Demetri?"

"Shit," Hawk cursed silently. "Yeah... I'm fine. It was nothing."

"Nothing? Sam says you were unconscious on the floor! Did you go to see a doctor? You could have a fucking concussion—"

"I said I'm fine," Hawk snapped angrily. "Just some scratches and bruises. Nothing I can't take."

Sky swallowed hard, a lump forming in her throat. The other tourists on the Piazzale were giving her glances and raised eyebrows. Sky glared back at them until they looked away.

"Were you going to tell me about it?"

"I guess not," he muttered. "It wasn't a big deal."

"Not a big deal?! You fucking asshole," Sky breathed through her teeth. "You promised! You promised me that you would be nice to Demetri!"

There was a short, strained silence after that.

"Sky—"

But the words were now pouring out of her like disgusting twisted creatures that made her bleed inside when they crawled out of her mouth. "How could you do it? How could you attack Demetri? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"He attacked our dojo! That Yelp review—"

"— was deserved. Kreese fucking hit him in the face!"

"Because he is a fucking nerd who can't keep his mouth shut!"

That comment shut Sky up. It felt like a sword through her heart. For a couple of moments, she could do nothing but breathe - shaky, uneven, shallow breaths that only made her feel worse - and stare at the sea, the sun that was setting, the breathtaking beauty of it all.

But all she could think about was:

Is love really supposed to be this hard?

"I am a nerd too," she said finally, her voice tired and flat, void of all emotion. "Will you hit me too when I say something you don't agree with?"

Hawk let out a sound that was no word. Was it a laugh or a sob, Sky couldn't tell.

"I would never hurt you," he breathed then, his voice almost breaking. "You know that."

"You are hurting me."

"You know what I mean!"

"No, I don't! I don't fucking know anything anymore. I don't even know who you are! Ever since Kreese got in your head—"

"Sensei Kreese has nothing to do with this."

Sky took a shaky breath and wrapped an arm around her shivering body. She felt like she was about to throw up, the few bites of deep-fried squid were climbing up her throat and the wine she had drunk tasted bitter, like bile on her tongue.

"I don't even wanna talk about Kreese," she said and swallowed the bile down, down, down. "But we really need to talk about us."

A short silence followed.

"What about us?"

Sky didn't answer. She couldn't. Every last reasonable cell in her brain was screaming at her that Hawk had crossed a line, that there was no going back to how things had been before, that he had turned into a violent, dangerous alpha asshole who would beat the shit out of anyone who stood in his way, and Sky knew - oh God, she knew all too well - how these things ended.

She didn't want to end up bleeding to death on a cold, tiled floor. Not again. Never again.

But still - how could she carve out the beating heart off her chest? If she did that, it would kill her too.

"Are you fucking dumping me?" Hawk's voice came out raspy and broken.

Sky couldn't hold back the tears. They flooded her eyes and fell to her cheeks in rivers of pain and despair.

"Sky, say something," Hawk groaned. "Just... say something. Fucking anything."

"I can't be with you," she breathed. "Not if it's gonna be like this."

"Jesus Christ—"

"— but I can't be without you either. I can't. I fucking love you, even if it kills me."

She heard that Hawk was crying now too - or maybe not crying, but at least sobbing - his breathing came in raspy, wet exhales that cut Sky's heart like razor blades.

"I need to think about this," Sky managed with her voice that was wet with tears. "Don't call me. We're on a break."

She heard Hawk start to say something, but determinedly she hung up and turned her phone to flight mode to make sure no calls from anyone came through.

For a long time, she just sat there watching the sun go down. The night was hot and so full of life it made her heart ache, but it was someone else's life, it belonged to those people who were walking past her laughing and chatting, drunk on the night and too much Limoncello, it belonged to the families who were eating and drinking on the restaurants, to the young tourists who were smoking weed on the Piazzale and discussing which night club they'd go to. It belonged to the bats that were crawling out of their hiding places and began their nightly hunt for juicy moths, their leathery wings so fast and light as they circled the towers of Sant'Elmo.

None of it belonged to Sky, for she was dead already.

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