I thought I'd have enough time to write the first half of this. I thought that I might have just a little more time, but it seems that just like always I'd overestimated myself.

The last two posts, I was able to get them written up in time, but my attention was diverted.

I got about half way through the third post, so I'll give you that, and I’ll tell you how things went. The first fight, I mean.

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It’s been some day. Honestly, I don’t understand how I'm feeling at the moment. A little pissed, to be honest, but I think I'm prepared to fight Belfast. Well, nothing can prepare me for whatever abilities he has, nor can I be prepared for the carnage.

All I know is that I'm ready to punch someone.

It’s just a pain that I have to wait for them to attack Clover first, I’d rather break into their headquarters and take them all on, but whatever, I can wait.

It really looks like that’s all I can do bide my time, sort through every little detail from the last couple of days. I don’t expect to remember anything that’ll pertain to the enemy, but I can at least get myself ready.

I can try to understand my emotions, steel my mind.

This trip, although I’ve been a little disinterested in some of the places and things we’ve done, and although I've been worried about causing everyone else discomfort, or problems- It's been good.

Better than the alternative, at least. If I think about it, what was the alternative? I sit alone in my room or patrol the streets, maybe workout a little if I feel like it. In short, nothing new. Saoirse’s right, to be better, I need to experience new things, I need to learn about things like hate crimes and terror attacks, it’s the only way I can understand the world.

Right now, I can’t comprehend such things. I know what the words mean, assault, hatred, evil, but they’re just words. I’ve yet to see true animosity.

Whether I’ll find it in this city, who knows. I hope not. I hope the people here are better than that.

The more I see, the less hope I have. And maybe that’s right. Maybe I need to be less naïve when dealing with murderers and addicts.

I’m smirking to myself right now, it seems like a lot of maybes, but I'm nowhere near ready to let go of my bright-eyed innocence.

God, says the guy who’s broken arms, beaten monsters, scratched and chewed, threatened and robbed- I just can’t think of a better word... maybe childish.

We came into the city of Belfast at long last. A journey that could’ve taken five hours was lengthened to two days. We’d spent a lot of time at the theme park, so it was actually past midday by the time we were coming into the city.

The suburbs were built for workers; not too far in the distance you could see a ship yard, which was looking quite bare. I couldn’t imagine there being much work in boat building or shipping, most of that type of work is done overseas for a fraction of the cost for large companies.

Not for these people however. I’m sure they have trouble finding work in this city, older people at least. It seems a lot more modern here, tech-y. I’d read some stuff about Ireland being a corner stone in software development in recent years, and I'm sure that’s why there were so many hip looking places on the main road into the city centre.

Getting through the suburbs, we passed by an area that should have reminded me of Irminsul, but just didn’t.

We went down a street lined with red brick houses, Saoirse said it was a part of the city called the ‘holy lands’, that it was student accommodation. When I asked her about the origin of the name, she honestly had no clue. There wasn’t anything holy about this place, except maybe for the run-down church we passed.

It seemed to by shrouded in a clear smog that dulled the vibrant street art you could occasionally find at the corner to some dingy alley. The deeper into the city centre he delved, the greyer and taller the buildings got, the more people you’d see walking around busying the streets and walking in front of cars nonchalantly.

It was like the other cities I'd been to, sure, but something was off. Not that I'm an expert or anything, but the streets were mostly cobblestone except for the roads leading to tramlines and bus stops.

There was always a chance that Mullet was had taken a detour by accident, but still the buildings seemed to lean over us, like they might topple down on themselves.

I wiped at my nose. Was I getting cold feet?

I focused on our current situation, finding the hotel.

I got the map up on my phone and argued with Mullet as we spent an extra twenty minutes going the wrong way. Mullet only got his way because he was the one driving, and Izzy was backing him. Saoirse was above our petty squabbling despite the fact she could have given better directions than any of us.

She didn’t order the hotel, that was all Adonis. Maybe we should have called him. We were certain that those three were already there, they had a chance to get ahead of us while we were pulled over, not to mention, Adonis was one of the aforementioned tech-y workers. Talking to him a bit more, I found out that modern stocks were pretty complicated, all the stuff he was talking about was pretty beyond me, but the take away was that he’d been to this hotel a ton of times for work.

Eventually, we got there, to a building that was at least five stories higher than the last hotel we’d been staying at. It was aa lot more utilitarian; the cool steel texture of the place was intimidating at first, but Saoirse put me at ease as soon as we pulled up.

“Before you throw up Sam, I'm guessing this place will be cheaper than the last, after all, it’s for people coming to town for work.”

Yeah, that made sense. Or maybe it’s because she said it with such sureness in her voice that I couldn’t help but believe it. There was also the fact that we’d be staying in this hotel for longer than a night, so it would have to be a fraction of the price for it to cost less than the one in Dublin.

Looking around the dark room I now find myself in, that seemed unlikely. I’ll have to remember to thank Adonis again.

I already had bowed my head and apologised for taking money from his pocket, while we were taking the baggage up to the room, “You shouldn’t worry about it! It’s not as kind as it seems...”

He paused before looking behind him, back down the winding hall, “... I’ve gotten to know the people who own this place, the pulled a couple strings, got us a suite for nearly nothing at all.”

TGFMAC grinned, “We get it, you’re good at networking, can we you open the door so I can go to the bathroom already?”

Adonis’ smile was a little less gleeful than hers, “Sure,” it looked like he wanted to say a little more, but he couldn’t find the words, or maybe strength was the issue.

I was really hoping that they’d find some way to get out of this slump, despite the fact I'd been interested in TGFMAC, I’d started to just enjoy seeing their relationship grow. They both seemed like good people, I wanted them to be happy.

I’m sure they wanted to be happy too, but the thing is, what that was changing. It’s to be expected at eighteen, right? You start to put some real thought into who you're going to be for the rest of your life, they’ve reached a point where they’re going to have to decide whether or not they can move forward.

I wasn’t thinking about any of this at the time. I was more concerned with the fact I'd have to wait until TGFMAC was finished before getting to the toilet, I’d been holding it in for nearly two hours.

We started setting stuff down, the room was just as incredible as the one in Dublin, for different reasons of course. It was a huge space; it was like a bird cage with how much upward space there was. One hall was a panelled window, sadly there was no balcony for me to sneak back through, so I'd just have to make-do. There was still more to discover, more rooms hidden behind away, I wouldn’t get the chance to have a look around yet, there was more to be done.

“We’ll all be staying in this room, there’s three beds and two sofas, so somebody will have to share.”

Some people were joking but Feoli was completely serious despite the laughs, “I’ll sleep on the sofa. I don’t usually sleep on a bed anyway.” Saoirse had smirked at that, and she was probably going to make a joke about being poor, but she remembered me.

“Great great great,” said Mullet thumbing to himself, “Sam gets a bed, Adonis and TGFMAC get a little intimate, and Izzy can rough it out on the sofa.” He looked around, ignoring Izzy’s gritted teeth, “That seems fair right? I did wait in line for you guys, remember? Or are you just going to forget about that?”

Izzy finally broke out, “Why can’t we share a bed, aye? We’ve been dating for years ye jackass!”

Mullet’s face turned sour, “No, that’s not even an option. I sleep naked. That’d be gross.”

Adonis broke out into a laughing fit that he wouldn’t break out of for ages.

Izzy was in slight disbelief. I guess he really was saving himself for marriage, as in, all of himself.

“Right,” clapped Saoirse, “know that you’ve got that figured out, Mullet?”

He mussed up his curly hair, “Yeah alright, let’s get going, I don’t want to drive back in the dark.”

Saoirse nodded, “Sam you’ll be alright looking after these undesirables, won’t you?”

Sheepishly, I nodded back.

“Good,” then she smiled. She used the same tone and face that’d usually put me to peace but the words didn’t sit well with me.

“See you tomorrow,” she said.

My sheepishness had been beaten away with those words, “I’ll go with you.”

She put her eyes back on mine. I guess it was the near finality of what she was saying, it made me feel like this was well and truly the end of this fun little trip. Was I so wrong to ask for one more hour?

“You sure? It’s nearly two hours away,” even better I thought.

“Hey, you don’t want to go insane with Dr Jeckel and Mr Hyde over here.”

Mullet didn’t understand what I meant by that, but Clover seemed to get it, which is what mattered.

She waved to everybody else, “Alright, we’re off then!”

Feoli parroted her tone from the sofa, “Good riddance!”

I turned back to look at her, and got a glimpse of everybody else in the room. Feoli was smiling at her own mocking. Adonis had finally stopped laughing. TGFMAC was still stuck to him, just happy to share it with him. Izzy, was starring Mullet out, with her typical scowl. Mullet was scratching at his arm pit.

It seemed like everything had slowed down as I looked at them all, and it was even slower looking back to Saoirse, as she replied to Feoli with a smile of her own, “What part of I’ll be back tomorrow don’t you understand? You aren’t rid of me.”

I enjoyed it. I finally saw the joy they all had, and I shared in it, I was happy.

Well, then I got back into the car and realised I'd have to hold my pee in for another drive.

A worthy sacrifice to hangout for a little longer? No.

If given the chance I'd probably make it again.

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That’s all I was able to write that night. Hindsight is twenty-twenty, I've realised where I went wrong.

First of all it was just a stupid idea to mix work with pleasure. I should have pressured Clover into acting immediately, even if it meant Sam never got to leave Tralee. Then there’s the fact that I'd left my suit in Dublin.

I know it wouldn’t have made a difference, but it would have given me ten more minutes, ten minutes I could have used to do something.

Sorry, I’ll finish telling Sam’s story before I start Shamrock’s.

We did talk for the stretch between Belfast and Derry. It was mostly me and Saoirse, or at least that’s how it felt. Most of the stuff we were talking about were inside jokes between us, and it wasn’t like Mullet’d jump at the opportunity to talk about whatever weird crap I was talking about.

Thing is, I don’t remember what we were talking about. It was just more or less the same sort of stuff we’d usually talk about; it wasn’t different because we were on vacation.

I didn’t feel good about it either, I just remember the dread I was feeling, the irrational fear towards her leaving me.

I tried to shake myself out of it, it wasn’t like she was going to be leaving for good, right?

You couldn’t see what I was seeing, but when we got to Derry it got harder to rationalise otherwise.

The town was old. Tralee had ‘historical sites’, but that really just meant that the houses were run down, this place was built like a medieval settlement. There were winding walls made from stone, with cannons mounted on castles-turned-museums. That’s the sort of place it was, somewhere with a storied history, a place that you could be proud to be from.

Not a dirty ass village. It was somewhere she belonged.

The same storied buildings were decorated by all sorts of modern symbols and street art. It was artsy, cultured. Yeah, it was her.

I’ve never brought it up before, Saoirse has told me about poetry and art history. At least she tried to explain that sort of stuff to me. I try to listen, but most of it goes in one ear and out the other, the names blend together, and I didn’t get the appeal of poetry in the first place.

Then again, I’ve tried to convince her that comics are amazing but she won’t even humour me by reading Watchmen.

Thinking about it, there really isn’t much we have in common. Instead of dissuading me, that thought makes me feal warm for some reason. It’s like there’s a chance we can both be better, because we already like each other despite everything.

I’m not stupid, I look around this clean little town, and I know for a fact there is scum between the stones, hidden but present. Just as Saoirse hides Clover.

Just as I try to hide.

When we got to her house, I could scarcely believe it. I expected it to be big, I expected it to be well kept, but I didn’t expect it.

She got out of the car, I shouted after her, “I-Is this it?”

Saoirse turned, “I... wouldn’t be getting out if it wasn’t Sam.”

I just said, “Oh.”

Then I looked down. I unbuckled myself and got out of the car. Mullet called after me, knowingly, “where are you going?”

I reassured myself more than anything else, “I’ll just help with the bags, she has two cases to take in, I can lighten the load.”

Saoirse half smiled as I took the from her grasp.

We walked down the gravel path leading through her garden, and she stopped just short of the door, “Listen Sam, some of my friends are waiting for me in there, so- so don’t get intimidated or whatever, you know?”

I didn’t heed her words, “Please, I'm a people person, I can totally handle it.”

She turned away, knowingly, “Right, just- just say hi, okay?”

I didn’t think about what she was saying, but as the door opened, I realised she didn’t want me there.

It was like a warmth had erupted from inside, it pushed me back a step, and sucked her into it.

I bowed my head as I tried to make out what was happening inside, for some reason I was having trouble putting everything together.

Saoirse was standing in the middle of her hall, her arms wrapped around a mass of people.

I counted three faces, all hugging her back.

It was like the door way had become a tv suddenly. It was like the set of some movie, filled with movie stars. They were all so... they were obviously good looking, they had good faces and expensive clothes, but that doesn’t put into words what I was seeing in that room.

It was like another world, a better world.

They exchanged a few words before one of the girls noticed me standing a couple feet away from the door.

I couldn’t reciprocate her smile, “Oh, so is this that one guy?”

I still couldn’t say anything, not until Saoirse turned around, remembering me, “Oh, yeah, this is Sam.”

She was waiting for me to say something, “Yeah, I’m Sam.” They laughed at that, even though it wasn’t supposed to be funny. That didn’t make me feel any better.

The girl that had noticed me broke out away from the group and towered over me, “Yeah, we’ve heard about you. You’re the quiet kid at her other school, funny, she said you had long hair.”

She was probably the most intimidating out of the three, she was the one that talked the most. She had a sort of E-girl style to her, it was foreign, to me at least. It sort of made me realise that these people weren’t just living in just another town, they were living in a different setting to me.

I struggled to talk back to her, “I had to get it cut. It was getting long. Too long.

She shrugged, “Well, it was probably better than going bald, right?

I bite my lip, wishing I could say ‘I didn’t have a choice, it was either this or melted chunks of flesh strung through my hair’.

I couldn’t say that, but Saoirse would at least defend me, right?

No, she laughed along, “Yeah, it did look better when it was longer, but it wasn’t very good either.”

I don’t know what I was expecting, but of course she’d want to have a bit of banter with her friends.

The other girl who had a style more similar to Saoirse’s, pointed out, “Still, this guy seems a little more built than I imagined, he doesn’t really seem like the he’d geek out over comic books.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” said the only guy in the group, he was tall and dark skinned, “anyone can go to the gym.”

Saoirse laughed, “You haven’t changed at all Marcus.”

The tall girl, Rose, eyed me, then outside the door. I don’t think she intended for me to pick up on that. Maybe she did.

“Right. I’ll leave you to it then,” I pulled the bag over the door stop, “when are you coming back?”

She shrugged, “Who knows. I’ll text Mullet or something.”

I nodded, and looked them over once more.

Saoirse clarified, “You can stay a little longer. If you-”

I laughed it off, “No, no, I've gotta go, yeah call up if, uh, when you want to meet up.”

I grabbed the door handle as I was turning away.

And closed it without any issue.

I thought about how... easy that was. How quick things had changed.

I heard laughing on the other side of the door. I hung my head, staring at the gravel beneath me.

Mullet had the window down, “What’re you all mopey for? Something bad happen.”

I got back in the car and he started to drive. It took me a couple seconds to register what I was feeling.

“I... I think you might have been right.”

Mullet had a snarky laugh, “Obviously.” His smile faded as he picked up on my mood.

“What did they say?”

I brushed over my head, “Apparently she’d told them about me.”

He nodded along, “Yeah, obviously. She’d be talking to them about everything that happens.”

“Yeah,” I put my head to the glass of the window, “I just- I don’t like that she’s talking about me. She’s never brought them up, at least not by name. They knew who I was. It was just- weird.”

He fiddled with the broken dashboard, “No, that’s normal. Maybe the problem’s that your weird, huh? Try some- what's it called, introspection?”

I saw the irony, maybe he did to, “You're really going to lecture me on that? I thought about what you said, that I'm ‘leading her on’. Makes a little sense.”

I forced myself to go on, I don’t know why, “But you also said she was leading me on, right? You were talking about money or whatever- but I guess you were right in a literal sense.”

Why was I saying all this to Mullet?

“I thought I was special. To her. I guess I always knew I wasn’t, but I still believed that she... fuck, I thought I was somebody to her.”

Mullet let me know, “Okay, as much as I appreciate that you’d admit I was right, this is getting a little too touchy you know? I don’t do touchy, not even in women, sort of a big mood killer.”

I nodded, “That why you like Izzy? Cause she’s predictably sensitive?”

Mullet was thinking about it while I went on, “I thought we were on the same wave length, that we- we were in this together. But I'm the holiday, aren’t I? To here, you, me, Tralee, it's all been a forced break from her real life. She said it herself, nothing's going to stop her from going home.”

Mullet tore himself out of his deep thought, “But she’s not going back yet. Hell, she might never go back again, who knows. Think about it like this, you could spend your entire life going to the same school as her, working the same job as her, fucking marry her, whatever- Someday it’ll end, right? Nothing lasts forever, not the holidays, not money, and not your relationships.”

I bowed down to it. I didn’t need him to tell me that, I already knew it. I just wasn’t feeling it.

“Mullet, what am I actually supposed to do.”

He shook himself once more, “No, I am not giving you fucking life advice, fuck, I don’t even like you-”

I leaned forward, right into the front seats, “I don’t fucken’ like you either! But I don’t have anybody to talk to but her! Tell me what I’m supposed to do when she’s gone!”

He didn’t know, he’d never been in my position before, “Go to the pub? Study for Uni? Get a job that makes you rich and get a gold digger? If it works for Adonis, it’ll work for you.”

I shook, not my head, my body simply shivered at the comparison, “Adonis has always had friends, I’ve never had-”

My body closed back up. It was like more bones had gone rigid.

“Whatever,” I gave up with a little salt, “I’ll figure it out, forget I said anything.”

Mullet who hadn’t been interested in my plight finally asked, “That’s it out of your system? Really?”

“No, but you can’t help me. I can only help myself.”

He seemed to engage fully in his driving.

Then he muttered, “Man, I hate that bipolar crap you pull.”

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And that is all I had wanted to post that night.

I managed to get most of it typed up. It was a slow process; I was thinking of other things. Belfast, the Mountain, Schism, Feoli, the police, Clover, Clover’s gang, Saoirse, Saoirse’s gang, Adonis, Sea-Threw Gurl, SP2, my mum, my dad, my granny, and dinner, and the mountains, and the sky, and the stars and-

-and none of it.

I should have been thinking about one of those, or all of those- I tried to but none of it stuck.

I did have a friend, sort of.

And she lived in Belfast.

And I emailed her.

And while I was typing up my holiday with everybody, I found myself drawn to the idea of meeting her again.

It’s stretch to say I wanted to see her. I hadn’t left things... well. I fucked up, screwed her over.

I was younger, if I'm bad at being social now, I was shit at it back then.

It was at half eleven, I was tirelessly working away on my write-ups, when I got a notification on my phone. At first, I thought it was Saoirse, that’s the only person it ever is.

But it wasn’t her.

It was a reply.

A location and time, tonight or tomorrow night.

I looked at it for a while. Then I looked up the bar she told me to meet her at.

It was kind of far but, that didn’t bother me.

I kept quiet, grabbing my key card and sneaking past Izzy on the sofa.

I thought about, maybe, telling somebody I was leaving, but for some reason I didn’t. Adonis and TGFMAC were still up, just in another living room from the one connected to the exit.

It just seemed like a bad idea. I didn’t like the idea of letting them know that I was going out into the night again. That seemed like something suspicious, and the last thing I wanted them to do was to possibly connect me to the other strange things they’d be seeing in Belfast.

It wasn’t too much trouble finding my way through the night, I went out at night all the time. IT was just like that, except farther and slower.

The journey isn’t the part that matters, the fact is, I got there just fine.

It must’ve been a slow night. It was a Monday, so the only people out were some older folks who needed somewhere to go after work, somewhere other than home.

I looked for her among the patrons, but couldn’t find her. It was possible I couldn’t recognise her anymore; it had been... I don’t know how many years, it’s a little fuzzy.

Over four years ago, at least.

I’m sure she would have put on a little muscle; I vaguely remembered her talking about getting her hair cut short... and with that thought, I saw her.

She was at the bar, or rather she was working at the bar.

She was talking to a customer as I walked over, trying to get into her line of sight. Her eyes flickered between the two of us, until she politely backed away from him and spoke to me.

“Well?”

I had my hand on an empty bar stool, which I was about to sit down on.

“Sorry.”

I nodded, “I’m sorry Bailey.”

Her attitude changed from that of a server, she arched her brows, “huh. I didn’t recognise you.”

I smiled, even though I shouldn’t have, “You look like you’re doing well, you’ve changed.”

Her hair was short and shaggy, just about covering her ears and leaving most of her forehead visible. It might have been dyed blue; it was hard to tell in the light.

She analysed me in the same way, “Yeah. You’re... basically the same.”

Like everyone, she stared at my head. I took notice and tried to joke about it.

“Guess we both had to get our hair cut, huh? My face was sprayed by acidic gas, so I basically had to have it removed.”

I kept my voice down, but there was no reason to lie.

Bailey knew I was planning on becoming a superhero, even if she didn’t know anything about powers or the third world.

“Uh-huh. You haven’t changed. Same snivelling smile, same clothes... Well, you’ve started a new routine, right?”

“Yep, I deadlift a hundred tons.”

I remembered Bailey as being a bit heavy handed, I guess that’s all I really remembered her for. Half the fights I got into were with; sparring matches of course.

Except for the last two times. When she kicked the shit out of me.

“Bet your faster than a speeding train too.”

Right now, the lack of emotion in her voice reminded me more of Feoli than the past.

I looked down at the bar, “What’ll ten euro get me?”

“Nothin’.”

“Diluted orange is free, right?”

She sighed as I started, “I- a lot has happened since I- since you left Tralee. First of all, I got super powers. Then all types of crazy bastards started showing up, there’s a fish person, and drug queen- and robots and gods and- werewolves are real, but you’re not going to find aliens, because someone killed most of them. To summarise, crazy, crazy shits been going down over the last few months, and it’s got me thinking about, well, about everything.”

“Uh-huh,” she says completely unphased,

I try to go back a couple steps, “Listen, I know I sound crazy right now, spouting this sort of stuff right out the gate, but I need you to understand.”

She set down my drink, “No, I know stuff like that exists. There was this disaster a couple moths back, a certain skyscraper collapsed, and I was close by. I’m tough, and I guess I took a note out of your book when I stupidly decided to go help.”

I knew what she was talking about, and it made sense that she’d have seen something while she was living so close to Units. Even though I was the one fighting monsters, I was the one in disbelief.

“I saw a man there. He had a smile just like yours. His face seen some damage. And he was flying on a black cloud. So yeah vampires, who gives a shit.”

I was about to start explaining what a second worlder was, and all about the ignorance affect, but I stopped myself, “I’ll explain all that crap later- so you see one supernatural phenomenon and don’t doubt your sanity- or more importantly, you don’t doubt me when I say I have super strength. I could lift a keg with my tongue or something-”

“Shut up, for once. ”

I did as she said, she never really liked it when I rambled on.

“It's obvious isn't it? If anyone's going to get super powers, it'd be one of you. I know why you’re here. And I forgive you. I already had.”

I over looked the fact she'd said 'one of you', she was sayingsomething I didn’t think I'd hear, certainly not after my bizarre reintroduction.

“Really?”

“Sure, because you’re a nice guy. Your creepy, you stare, you smile too much, you tell lies- but you also give money to homeless people. You hate it when something shitty happens in front of you. You try to fix it, and when you can’t, you act like it’s your fault. You whine about it.”

I took a drink of my diluted orange juice; I think she remembered that I liked it weak.

“So, when you innocently told people that I was a lesbian and I got ran out of town for it, I can’t really point any fingers at you. Because you’re a nice guy.”

I choked it back out, slowly looking up to her, “you were run out of town?” in light of some of the things I'd heard about the world it honestly didn’t seem like a stretch. Most foreigners were cast dirty looks on the street, so it’d make sense that she’d get the same treatment, at least in my mind.

“No. But all my friends treated me differently. Not worse, though most of them did. Most had said I was a dirty whore; I could at least respect the people who’d say it to my face.”

That sounded like her. Of course, respect is her way of saying, ‘yeah, your allowed to have your teeth knocked out’.

“I mean,” I was having trouble relating to her, I mean, she’s the only gay person I know, so I didn’t really know how to handle talking about that kind of stuff.

Then I remembered I wasn’t talking to a gay person, I was talking to Bailey.

“Hey, good job. As far as I know the only person you kicked the shit out of was me. That took some restraint.”

She blew air through her nose, that as good a laugh I’d get out of her.

“Honestly, I was pissed about the whole thing but, I had to leave that shit hole- No offense- but there wasn’t a life for me there. Up here, I’ve got shit going on. As in, I can actually date.”

I nodded along, “Any going at the moment.”

She frowned, then waved her hand, “I’ve dated a bit, still more than you.”

I laughed.

The indifferent act had sort of fallen away as me and her got talking.

Sadly, it didn’t last.

“So,” she started, matching my somber mood a little more, “is she with you?”

At first I just smiled awkwardly, “Oh, I don’t have a girlfriend- well, I did come to Belfast with a girl who’s kind of my friend-”

“No,” she cussed under her breathe, “who do you think I'm talking about when I say her?”

Her? Who else could she be talking about? Not counting the last few months, the only women I've spoken to are my granny, mum, and Bailey, who’s this ‘her’?

Bailey leaned in a little, “Our only mutule friend?”

I was stumped. When I thought about ‘friend from back in the day’ the only person I could remember was Bailey, there was no way I had forgotten about an entire person.

No, that couldn’t be right.

The more I thought about it, the more this strange familiar feeling pulsated through my mind.

Bailey was getting fed up, I was souring the mood quick

She straightened herself, “Did you get slower or what?”

I didn’t answer.

“Sam.” she said.

I kept digging, but the more I did, the farther the idea seemed to fade away.

“Sam!” Bailey repeated, on the verge of shouting.

Now I looked up at her, trying to show her my confusion. And I wasn’t just confused about the fact she was talking about some mysterious third person I couldn’t remember-

She wasn’t saying my name, not my real one.

She was saying the name Sam. The one I used online, and the one I'd never brought up.

She looked at me with near disgust.

“Samantha Barrow.”

A name I'd never heard in my life, yet one that I'd partially bastardised for myself.

“What the actually shit...” I whispered as there was a commotion at the door.

Bailey saw the person before I did. I turned after seeing her face grow even more disgusted.

I just repeated, “What the actually fuck...” as I say a humanoid three times the width of a person and near double the height of one squeeze through the door with some effort.

A growl came from its mouth, a slight feminine twang to it.

“Emmet O’Hara... I have come to fetch you. Your companions have already been captured. Come peacefully. The more limbs you have the more bargaining pieces we will have against your little friend... Saoirse, is what you called it, yes?”

I put my hand to my head and could only whimper, “Shit.”

Then, still whimpering and shaking, I, Emmett, stood up.

There was no hero coming to save me.

I’d have to put what Bailey taught me all those years ago to good use.