"Can you believe how hot it is out there, Townsville? With the recent record-breaking heatwave, it seems like there's no end in sight to this heat. It's ridiculous—"

Blossom quickly changed the radio station, keeping her eyes on the road ahead of her as the car radio played a popular pop song. She mouthed the words in silence, dabbing away at the sweat formulating on her forehead since the radio show host made her aware of just how hot Townsville was. Growing up, heatwaves were an ordinary occurrence during the summertime—primarily in August, which was the month they were in. She did not think living in the northeast would weaken her tolerance for the heat; yet, here she was, growing more drenched with sweat. Her thighs were sticking to the cream-colored leather of her car seat from the significant amount of moisture collecting from her skin.

Her fingers fiddled with the air conditioning of her car, turning it up to the highest degree of coolness. She felt instant relief when the cold air filled the cramped space of her compact car. Her rose-colored eyes lingered on the boxes in her backseat, sighing to herself before she adjusted her rear-view mirror.

Blossom felt her stomach begin to turn when a large road sign notified her about entering the city limits of Townsville came in view. After a two day trip across the country from Fort Lauderdale to her hometown, Blossom did not visualize how daunting it would feel to be back.

To have to face everything she ran away from.

She combed a free hand through her long hair, keeping the other hand on the steering wheel, recognizing certain landmarks of the small town.

Townsville was located on the outskirts of Phoenix, Arizona. It was surrounded by a vast, arid desert landscape, making the city seem closed off from the rest of the world—or, at least, that was how Blossom always felt. There were two high schools, one community college, three grocery stores, and one salon. The biggest attraction in town was city hall or Lake Canem Loquentes. It was a quaint place to see in passing, but growing up and not knowing anything else could make a person restless.

It was for that reason why Blossom left. She knew there had to be more to the world than Townsville.

Yet, here she was returning, feeling like a failure. Blossom determined it was because she would have to face the music sooner than later. The past would pop up again and remind her of the mistake she had made before leaving. If only she could go back and change everything. Then Blossom would not have to feel like an outsider in a town she was born and raised in for the first eighteen years of her life.

When the neon sign for Otto's Diner became visible in the distance, Blossom knew there was no turning back anymore. She was officially back in Townsville.

Blossom had let out a tight breath, loosening the tension in her shoulders. Ten minutes in, and nothing disastrous has happened yet. Perhaps she does not have anything to worry about.

Cluck… Cluck… Cluck…

Blossom widened her eyes at the loud noise her car was making, acutely taking notice of the spike in heat within the vehicle. She pressed the off button for the air conditioning and turned it back on, putting a free hand against the vent but felt nothing except the dull, hot air from the outside.

"Great," Blossom grumbled to herself, holding a tight grip on her steering wheel.

Townsville was under the worst heatwave in years, and she no longer had air conditioning in her car. Blossom thought about rolling down the windows to gain some wind but chose against it. Just one peek of her signature orange hair flying out the window, and everyone would know she was back.

Instead, she contained herself in the hot box of her car, continually wiping away the sweat accumulating on her face until she reached her home.

Where Blossom lived was completely different from the rest of the population of Townsville. Most citizens were a part of the middle to lower class while Blossom was a part of the slim wealthy to the upper-middle class who lived in the town. With her mother working as a political adviser for a congressman in Phoenix, Blossom knew of the enormous amount of privilege she grew up in. Most of her old friends had to get jobs during high school to help support their families while Blossom did not learn how to do laundry until she got to MIT.

A remote one-lane road passing through most of the town led to her neighborhood. It was essentially a long, one-way road with houses lining the border until the street ended with the wealthiest house in town—Morbucks Manor. Being the only place with greenery other than cacti, the road was accompanied by a light pine forest leading to Lake Canem Loquentes. This resulted in the neighborhood being dubbed as "The Rich Pines" by those who did not live there. The home she and her mother occupied was near the middle of the long road, with a ten-minute walking distance from any neighbors and a view of the pine forest across the street.

Their house was a modest two-story home, painted a cream color, and was adorned with a wrap-around patio. A porch swing hung by the front door, an area Blossom sat outside on too many times to count while studying for exams or doing homework.

Once in the house, guests were greeted with a foyer leading to either the modern furniture of the living room or the open space of their kitchen. The kitchen contained a large granite breakfast bar in the middle of it. Then there was a nook in the back of the kitchen, where Blossom and her mother consumed most of their meals together, soaking in the sun shining in from the large windows in the room.

The second floor was occupied by three bedrooms—hers, her mother's, and a guest—and two bathrooms. Family photos, diplomas, and certificates adorned the walls of the hallway.

Blossom inhaled a breath, pulling into the driveway of her home. Parking the car and taking the keys out, Blossom stared at the sleek, black Mercedes sitting in front of her.

Her mother was not pleased to hear about Blossom's need to return. She felt her daughter was wasting the opportunity given to her but reluctantly agreed to Blossom's plan to return for the semester. Blossom did have to promise it would only be for one semester, and that was it. She was not sure what her mother would do if she extended her stay, but Blossom was not going to test her luck.

One semester was enough time.

She hoped.

She slowly unbuckled her seat belt, opening the door to her car. Stepping out, Blossom was met with the dry air. There was not a single sign of wind or a breeze in sight. She shut the door, fanning herself as she walked to the front door. Sticking her keys into the door, Blossom entered her childhood home, greeted by the refreshing air conditioning and melancholic nostalgia. She sucked in the smell of coffee and vanilla their house has acquired over the years, feeling comfort in an instant.

"Mom?" Blossom called out, looking into the kitchen but finding it empty. "I'm home."

"Blossom?"

She heard the click-clacking of her mother's heels on the hardwoods floor from above. Her mom stopped at the top of the staircase, smiling with excitement from seeing her daughter for the first time in a year. She quickly strutted down the steps, opening her arms widely to wrap them around Blossom.

"My baby," she cooed. "I've missed you."

Blossom smiled softly, holding her mom tightly and burrowing her face in her mother's orange curls. "I've missed you too," she breathed, taking in her mother's signature scent. Chanel No. 5 mixed with lavender shampoo.

Her mom broke the hug, taking a step back and lifting Blossom's chin up, looking at her with a critical eye, "You've lost weight. I can see it in your face."

Blossom shifted, rubbing her arms out of nervousness. She had lost about fifteen pounds in the past six months, and she was not proud of it. Blossom was already small, to begin with—Blossom has been a size three since the age of fifteen—but Blossom at least looked healthy. Now she cringed every time she looked in the mirror with her rib cage standing out profoundly.

"I know."

"Are you eating? If you're not, I know a specialist—"

"I'm eating, mom," Blossom sighed, running a hand through her hair. "It's just… stress, you know? It's why I needed a mental break this semester."

She nodded, removing her hand from Blossom's face. "Of course."

The two stared at each other in silence, cautiously avoiding the topic of Blossom's return. She could tell her mother was biting her tongue from making a comment on how she was wasting her potential being back here. How Blossom was jeopardizing her future.

Little did her mom know, Blossom could no longer have the future they once dreamed of for her.

Blossom averted her gaze, gesturing towards the door. "I should get my stuff from the car."

"Do you need my help?"

"I got it," she responded, opening the door and feeling the coolness of the air conditioning dissipating from her body again, becoming overheated again. Blossom tossed a look back at her mom before going back outside. "But thank you."

She heard her mom give a reply, but Blossom was already out the door. Looking down the road, walking back to her car, Blossom hoped to herself that she had made the right decision.

Blossom hoped she was not making a mistake again.

Her mom did not change a single thing in her room. Her desk remained empty from Blossom taking everything to MIT. Photos from experiences throughout high school were still taped to her wall despite Blossom no longer having any form of a relationship with the people in them. Even the soft, pink comforter she had left as a disarray on her bed was in the same position it was left in. It was like time stood still.

Like she never got out of Townsville.

Since coming back three days ago, Blossom has gotten well-acquainted with her room again—specifically, her bed. All she had done was binge-watch documentaries on Netflix for the past seventy-two hours. The only time she came out of her room was to use the bathroom or eat. Blossom could tell her mother was concerned, pushing her to eat more during dinner and subtly asking her daughter about any plans for the day. She would respond to her mother with a new list of documentaries, which frustrated her mom much.

Twenty minutes into a film about the food industry and snuggling herself comfortably in her bed, Blossom's door opened widely, her mother entering the room. She went for the window first, drawing the curtains open and allowing the bright Arizona sun into Blossom's room.

Blossom blinked rapidly to adjust to the sunlight, not having contact with it in the past three days—it was no wonder she was so pale. Her mother then faced her bed, tapping her foot impatiently.

"Blossom, I'm trying to be supportive of you, but I can't do it if you're going to be hiding out in your room for the next four months," her mom explained.

Blossom rubbed the grain out of eyes, sitting up, "Mom, you know I—"

"Do you think you can get the groceries for me?" She interrupted. Blossom froze at the question. The last thing she wanted to do was go into town.

"Um…"

"Baby, please," her mom pleaded, taking a seat on Blossom's bed. "At least get out of the house for once."

Blossom sighed to herself. "Okay… but can I take your car? The AC stopped working in mine."

Her mom chuckled lightly, standing up. "As much as I love you, Blossom. I'm going to say no," she smiled. "Besides, you can spend more time out of the house by taking it to the mechanics."

"But…" Blossom trailed off, accepting defeat as her mother left the room.

She threw her covers back, stepping out of her bed and heading for her closet. Blossom grimaced at the large amount of winter clothing occupying the space due to her time at MIT. She decided on a pair of light-washed jean shorts and a white spaghetti-strap tank top. She tied her hair back into a tight ponytail—the end of it hitting her mid-back—and put on a little mascara and concealer to hide her dark circles. Staring into the mirror hanging on the back of her door, Blossom felt a strange sense of deja vu. She quickly realized this was her basic outfit all throughout high school

The only thing missing was the red ribbon she used to wear to form a bow around the base of her ponytail. Blossom had discarded the accessory when she left, deciding it would bring too many memories.

She could feel her skin become irritable. Her mind crept through the old memories. Memories she would like to forget.

Blossom ignored the strong urge to scratch her arms, grabbing the keys to her car and heading down the stairs. On the bottom floor, she popped her head into the kitchen, finding her mother reading the newspaper, a cup of coffee in hand. She smiled fondly at her daughter, proud that Blossom followed through with the decision in such a timely manner.

"Do you have a grocery list?" Blossom questioned, leaning forward on the opposite side of the granite counter. Her mom nodded, turning around to open a drawer and pulling out a notepad. She ripped out the top page, handing it to Blossom. Blossom quickly read over the list, finding most of the items being basic necessities—milk, cheese, bread, etc. Her rose-colored eyes met her mom's. "I'll be back in an hour or two."

"Take as much time as you need," her mom waved off, resuming her reading of the newspaper. It was her mother's subtle way of saying she was dismissed.

Blossom inhaled sharply, exiting the house. She was not happy about being back out in the heat again. Furthermore, the need to drive in the prominent hotness of her car. Pulling out of the driveway, Blossom searched up the nearest mechanic since Townsville did not have one. The closest one was five minutes outside of town limits, called Jojo's Auto Repair. Not finding any other doable options, Blossom selected the establishment, gaining access to directions from her phone.

Blossom furrowed her eyebrows upon arriving at the mechanics. There were no cars in the dusty parking lot other than a cherry-red Ford truck she could tell dated well past the last two decades—maybe even more.

Nonetheless, she had to get some assistance since anything was better than spending any more time in the inferno of her car, especially with the heatwave not showing any signs of giving up.

She pushed against the door of the office to the mechanics, noting the smudges and fingerprints dignifying the glass of the door. A bell chimed above her as Blossom was greeted by an empty space but was instantly grateful the place had air conditioning.

Two worn-out chairs sat next to the window, with a coffee table separating them with month-old auto magazines spread across the wooden surface. A counter divided the small room in half, one half where customers were allowed to occupy themselves and the other side for the mechanics to complete paperwork.

She eyed the opened door leading out towards the garage, peering as much as she could to see any signs of life.

"Hello?" Blossom called out.

"I'll be right there," she heard being announced by a deep voice coming from the garage.

Blossom shifted her weight, folding her arms while waiting. She glanced around the office once again, noticing a photo on the back wall. It portrayed a short, dark-haired man proudly standing by the tin sign with the shop's name on it that still stood out in front of the shop. A small engraving on the picture frame stated the photo was taken on November the eighteenth, nineteen ninety-eight.

Her eyes quickly averted to the person entering the room. He was at least over six-feet tall, wearing a gray jumpsuit which acquired various grease stains, and had a subtle streak of oil on his cheek. His ruby-colored eyes were fixated on the rag in his hands as he wiped away any filth, the loose strands of his scarlet hair cascading over his face. The name tag stitched on the fabric of his clothing indicated his name was Brick.

Once he was satisfied with his cleanliness, he put the rag down on the counter, grabbing a notepad and looking up. "How can I help…" His eyebrow shot up when making eye contact with her, a half-smile formulating on his face. "You?"

"The AC in my car is busted," she explained, laying her folded arms on the cold, plastic counter. "And as you can tell from the recent weather we're having, it can be pretty unbearable."

"I bet," he chuckled, running a hand through his wavy hair. It was cut short on the sides but an inch or two longer on top. He also had a slightly detectable accent that Blossom could not quite pinpoint. His words came out a bit slower with a drawl, stressing the last vowels of his words. "What car model do you have?"

"1997 Volkswagen Beetle."

He cringed a little when she informed him. He wrote down the model and some other things Blossom could not comprehend when she read off of the notepad since she did not know anything about cars. "Please tell me that you don't have those ridiculous eyelash things on the headlights."

"No."

"Oh thank god—"

"But it is painted a pale pink," Blossom grinned.

The man exhaled loudly, meeting her eyes again. "Not really helping yourself, are you?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "If it's too much of a problem, I could try finding another mechanic who will find my car to be pretty cute."

"Trust me," he snorted. "No one is going to find it cute."

"So you do want me to find another mechanic to challenge your word?" Blossom inquired, pointing back at the door over her shoulder. "I could also get them to fix my car," she teased.

He raised both of his eyebrows, the crooked smile on his face never once being removed. "You could, but no one else is going to do a better job than I will."

"Oh, really?"

He nodded. "Trust me. I'm the best mechanic within a fifty-mile radius."

"Alright. Then I have to go with your word," Blossom grinned.

"Good." His eyes lingered on her for a few seconds longer than necessary before moving them down to the notepad lying on the counter. "And who do I have the pleasure of fixing their AC?"

"Blossom Bellum."

"Bellum?" he questioned, his amused expression faded away while writing her name down on the sheet of paper and glancing back up at her, pointing his pencil at her. "You must be Sara Bellum's infamous daughter?"

"Yup," she nodded with slight hesitation.

"Aren't you supposed to be at Yale or something?"

"MIT… I'm supposed to be at MIT," Blossom trailed off.

He nodded, not displaying much interest in the topic, pushing the pencil behind his ear. "I should have known you were Sara's daughter. The orange hair is a dead ringer."

"I guess," she muttered. Blossom folded her eyebrows, wondering how he knew this. "Wait. How do you know about my mom?"

"Everyone in Townsville knows everyone," he explained. "Did you forget about that at MIT?"

"No," Blossom said tightly. "I just… I've never seen you before."

"Ah." He ripped the recently written on paper out of the notepad. "I guess that statement is merely a fallacy now."

"It might be, but it still doesn't explain why I've never seen you before."

"Well, sweetheart, I'm guessing you never had to bother noticing a guy like me," Brick shrugged off.

Blossom pursed her lips at the statement, sliding her arms off the counter and returning them to her sides. "Yeah… you're right."

For a brief second, the mechanic's face was unreadable, peering deeply into Blossom's rose-colored eyes before the corner of his mouth turned upward. He stuck out his hand towards her. "I'm Brick Jojo, by the way."

Blossom slowly accepted his hand, feeling the rough texture of his skin, briefly shaking hands. "Jojo? You own this place?"

"My foster dad does," Brick revealed, frowning. He gestured towards the photo she was looking at a few minutes ago. "That's him, right there." He then cleared his throat, grabbing the piece of paper he tore out. "I should get to work on your precious pink car."

Blossom chuckled lightly at him, handing over her keys. Her fingers grazed along the palm of his hand as she did this. Blossom quickly retrieved her arm to her side, feeling her cheeks grow a little red. At least she could blame it on the heat.

"Treat her right, okay?"

"If it makes you feel better, I will," he grinned, heading into the garage. "But only for you," Blossom heard him call out once more before hearing the loud opening of the garage doors.

Blossom smiled to herself, taking a seat in the least distorted chair and picking up one of the automobile magazines. On the bright side, she could gain some sort of knowledge from this experience.

Her eyes glanced back up at the door to the garage at the thought for a split-second, diverting back to an article about electric cars, the smile of her face becoming more pronounced.

Cranking up the air conditioning to its fullest degree, Blossom felt her body ease up from the tension she had since coming back to Townsville as she made her way over to one of the three grocery stores in the town.

Her exchange with Brick after fixing her car was shorter than she would have liked since another customer had showed up ten minutes before he finished; which meant Brick had been in a rush with her transaction. She could not help feeling like there was something he wanted to say to her, but he neglected to do so, merely handing her the bill and moving on to the other customer.

Feeling more generous than usual, Blossom had left a pretty sizable tip for him.

The thought of their interaction made her forget about the problems she had in Townsville. Even if she knew it was a fleeting feeling and she would not ever see him again—if Blossom has never seen him before today, then she knew their inner circles do not mix.

Besides, Blossom did not even have an inner circle for them to ever collide into each other again.

Turning into the parking lot of Malph's and finding a spot to park, Blossom focused on her mother's grocery list and not the disappointment of not seeing a stranger again.

She was pleased to enter and see the aisles were bare from people. Grabbing a shopping cart, Blossom strolled down each aisle, checking off the items on her mother's list without any cares.

Perhaps getting out of the house was what she needed. Today was the first time she has felt right about being back in town. Blossom noted to herself she may need to thank her mom for pushing her to go out.

Glancing over the list two more times, Blossom found she was finished shopping and headed for the checkout section. Due to the lack of customers, there were only two lanes open, her opting with the one to her right. Pushing her cart down the slim aisle, Blossom placed her groceries on the converter belt.

Once done, she moved her cart up, smiling brightly at the female cashier who was facing towards the other worker, the two talking freely as her back greeted Blossom.

"Aye, you got a customer," a gruff male voice stated. In the back of her mind, Blossom felt that she has heard the exact voice before but could not put her finger on it.

"Duty calls."

That voice.

That voice Blossom knew all too well. The smile on her face rapidly dissolved, her face reddening. The cashier turned around, their light green eyes surveying the conveyor belt of groceries.

"Hey, how are you…" Her eyes shifted to the customer in front of her, her professional demeanor disappearing immediately. The lines of her face expressed a hard scowl. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Blossom blinked at her in response, surprised her reaction was not actually harsher. As she did this, Blossom took in the appearance of one of her former best friends.

Her raven-colored hair was still chopped in a blunt bob, ending at her jawline. The light green shade of her eyes complemented the olive skin tone she acquired from her Italian heritage. She held a considerable amount of intimidation from her Amazonian height, falling short of being six feet tall by one inch.

She was still the effortless beauty Blossom knew she was, despite her former friend's dismissive behavior towards the subject. Even in the polyester slime green polo shirt and khaki pants that were the signature Malph's grocery store uniform, she was beautiful.

Blossom's eyes lingered on the name-tag pinned to the polo shirt she wore, processing the confirmation of this was not her imagination at work.

This was Buttercup actually standing right before her and handling her groceries.

"Um…"

"Forget it. I don't even want to know," Buttercup dismissed, beginning the process of ringing up the items Blossom selected.

Blossom tossed her eyes around everywhere in the store except for Buttercup's line of vision, her body getting uneasy from the tension radiating off of her former friend.

"So… when did you start working here?" Blossom asked to break the silence between them. It was an attempt at a slight chance of peace. "What happened to the internship at the city hall?"

"Didn't pay shit," she grumbled, sending daggers at Blossom as she scanned over a gallon of milk's price tag. "Some of us aren't as lucky to never have to work."

"Oh."

Blossom could not muster another response, unable to speak to one of the few people she shared everything with. Her eyes fell to the white Vans she was wearing, finding them to be the most exciting thing in the world, listening to Buttercup scan the rest of her items.

"That will be a hundred and seventeen dollars," Buttercup said with aloofness, folding her arms when Blossom had to swipe her card.

Buttercup ripped the long receipt the register printed out, holding it out for Blossom to grab. Blossom reached out for it, pulling, but Buttercup kept a firm hold on it, narrowing her eyes at Blossom.

"If you're in town, the least you could do is go see Bubbles. For some reason, she'll be happy to see your backstabbing face."

She eased her grip, letting the receipt fall into Blossom's hand. Blossom nodded slowly, surprised by Buttercup's suggestion. She was left under the assumption Bubbles would treat her the same as Buttercup was.

"I'll try."

"Whatever," Buttercup dismissed with venom, glaring at Blossom as she pushed her cart towards the exit.

Her rose-colored eyes landed on the other cashier, instantly realizing why the voice sounded so familiar when she saw his sandy brown hair and freckled face.

It was Mitch Mitchelson.

She opened her mouth to say something but decided not to since she and Mitch were never close. They would only associate themselves with each other out of having a similar friend group. Instead, Blossom continued pushing her cart, exiting the store, and ignoring the shouting of Mitch's question of whether he just saw Blossom Bellum back in Townsville.

She sighed to herself, answering the question for him in her head.

Yes. Yes, he just did.

Stepping into Otto's Diner initiated numerous amounts of flashbacks for Blossom. Her eyes drifted to the bar stools at the diner's counter, remembering the times she and Bubbles spent afternoons studying while drinking milkshakes together. To the jukebox where Buttercup would replay the same song to annoy the other customers to leave so they could get the entire place to themselves. The back booth their group would occupy every Friday night and discussed their week over burgers and fries.

It was the same place where Blossom told them she was leaving for MIT, creating much disapproval from the group and an outraged Buttercup.

It was a night Blossom has tried to stop reliving but could not go a day or two without thinking about it. The thought of wanting to change things never fled her mind.

"Hi, welcome to Otto's—Oh my god!" A female exclaimed from behind the counter. Her eyes widened in surprise before rushing over to Blossom and tackling her into a bear hug. "You're back! You're really back!"

Blossom returned the hug, smiling softly. At least Bubbles was not upset anymore.

"Yes, I am."

Bubbles pulled back, taking in Blossom's appearance as Blossom did the same.

Bubbles was in her retro, baby blue waitress uniform and white apron. The look has become a second skin for her since she began working at the diner since their sophomore year of high school.

Her platinum blonde hair was curled into perfection and held tightly by hair ties to create her infamous pigtails. She still had not lost the roundness in her face, giving her a youthful appearance face wise, while her body was petite and curvaceous. Her skin was a slightly darker shade of tan than Blossom remembered, but she had also kept in mind how Bubbles tanned effortlessly due to her dad being of Mexican descent. Both of her dimples were easily recognizable as she smiled at her.

Blossom determined Bubbles has yet to lose her sweetness that could never be spoiled.

Bubbles chewed down on her bottom lip, a vital sign of her having something to say but she did not want to be rude.

Blossom arched an eyebrow, tilting her head. "What is it, Bubs?"

Bubbles blinked out of the trance she was under, smiling weakly. "It's just… You're super thin, Blossom."

"I know," Blossom sighed to herself, gazing at the checkered tiling of the restaurant. "It's stress. That's all."

"You sure?"

"Yes…" She glanced up, meeting Bubbles' icy blue eyes, the corners of her mouth turning upward. "Plus, I haven't had a famous Otto's cheeseburger in over a year. If I have a couple of those, I'll be back to my normal weight in no time."

Bubbles grinned widely at her, grabbing her notepad from her apron pocket, clicking the pen that was attached to it. "If I remember correctly, you like avocados and tomatoes on your burger?"

"Correct."

"Cheese fries?"

"My ultimate weakness."

"And a strawberry milkshake?"

"With sprinkles and whipped cream on top."

"Perfect," Bubbles cheered, clicking her pen again and sliding her notepad into her apron pocket. "I was about to go on my lunch break too, so I'll just eat with you."

"Sounds good," Blossom smiled, sliding into one of the vinyl booths when Bubbles left to go into the kitchen.

As Blossom waited, she felt herself being transported back in time to a year ago. Buttercup's hard scowl and how she threw a basket of fries to the ground out of rage. Bubbles had covered her face to mask the tears sprouting in her eyes. Blossom's incapable of calming down the situation as Buttercup had ended all ties to her, beckoning the entire group should abandon her since Blossom was now a traitor. Each one exiting the booth, never meeting her eyes when they did.

Until Blossom was the only one in the booth—and the entire restaurant—left choking back the lump in her throat, staring out the window to watch her friends go, thinking she was betraying them.

The chiming of the diner's door brought her out of the haunting memory, jumping back from being startled. Her face reddened despite no one noticing her action. She cowered more into the booth, focusing her attention out the diner's window like she did on that very Friday night.

Across the street was the abandoned candy factory which jump-started Townsville's economy in the nineteenth century. It was quite an eyesore for everyone since the place has not been in use for thirty years now, enabling the structure to decay into just a shell of the business' former glory. The chain fence surrounding it has pretty much been destroyed in the process also, allowing anyone to trespass if they wanted to.

Rumor has it, inside the crumbling foundation of the factory, was the headquarters for all gang activity in the town. Mainly the Gangreen Gang. While it has never been confirmed, Blossom has always suspected it was true.

She stared at the large industrial sign used to notify tourists of the local establishment. Her eyes trailed down to the ground when a shadowy figure appeared at the bottom of the pole. Blossom narrowed her eyes, making sure she was not hallucinating. The dark figure stared directly at her through the window, smiling wickedly and motioning for her to join him.

Blossom could not ignore the enticement of which was overpowering her body. She could hear an ominous whisper, the repetition of her name was said to her ear. The hairs on the back of her neck were raised, goosebumps formed all over her body. Blossom did not notice how hypnotized she was by the figure, losing focus on anything that was not it. She felt herself slowly inching over to the end of the booth, one foot out the aisle, preparing herself to walk across the street.

"Okay. Here's one order of a cheeseburger, cheese fries, and a strawberry milkshake," Bubbles announced, snapping Blossom out of the trance she was under. She placed Blossom's food on the table before sliding into the booth across from her, along with a large Caesar salad. A smile faded from her face when she noticed Blossom's perplexed expression. "Everything alright?"

"What?" Blossom blinked, staring blankly at Bubbles before processing what she had asked, still spooked from whatever she just saw. Blossom nodded furiously, stabbing one of her fries with a fork. "Yeah, I just…" Her eyes glanced out the window, searching for the shadowy figure but found it was now gone. She returned her gaze to Bubbles, ignoring what Blossom thought she saw. She must have been hallucinating it. "I just cannot believe I'm here again. With you, I mean… I thought you hated me."

Bubbles giggled to herself. "I could never hate you, Blossom."

"It didn't seem like that the last time we were here," Blossom mumbled, stirring her milkshake.

"Oh…" Bubbles frowned, lowering her gaze to the salad in front of her. "Um… I should apologize for that night. It was just the heat of the moment and… You shouldn't have been left here alone. I'm sorry."

"Thanks, Bubs," Blossom smiled softly. "I should apologize too."

"For what? Trying to chase after your future?" Bubbles questioned. "You did nothing wrong, and it was wrong for us to hold it against you."

"I mean, there was the pact," she recalled.

The pact was a promise Blossom made with Buttercup, Bubbles, and the others about staying in Townsville until they found a way to all leave together. To find success as a team.

Blossom destroyed the idea the day she accepted her admission to MIT and has paid for her single selfish decision since. Blossom could not help believing she was better off not leaving. To stay with friends and go along with the pact they had made.

Especially with everything that happened at MIT.

"Blossom. None of us truly believed you were going to stay here with us. Only you and Buttercup were under the illusion that it will work," Bubbles confessed. "If anyone was going to get out of here, it was going to be you."

"I… I… So the others, they don't hate me?"

"Nope. It's just Buttercup, but that's because she's notorious for holding grudges," Bubbles explained. "But I do think she misses you."

"Just too much pride to admit it?"

"Yup," Bubbles sighed lightheartedly. "As you can see, nothing changes here in Townsville."

"I'm starting to realize that again," Blossom grinned, taking a large bite of her burger.

"You know, you should come to the get-together we're having at the lake on Friday."

"You're not spending Friday night here?" Blossom asked. "Maybe there is one thing that changed."

Bubbles smiled sheepishly at her. "Actually, we're going to eat here first, and then head out to the lake, but it's just going to be the four of us and I figured it would be awkward to share a table with Buttercup."

"You're right."

"At the lake, there will be more people," Bubbles continued. "At least, that's what Buttercup told me."

Blossom nodded, wiping her mouth with a paper napkin. "I'll think about it."

"Think about it? What's there to think about?"

"Buttercup and her hostility."

"Oh… well, I think the first step in fixing things is giving a push."

Blossom narrowed her eyes at Bubbles, considering her advice. The last thing Blossom wanted to do was ruffle some feathers. She has only been back for less than a week, and Blossom did not want to be involved in the thick of the drama already.

"We'll see."

Lounging on her couch with a bowl of kettle corn, Blossom flipped through the channels on the TV in her living room. She sighed to herself, not finding anything interesting to watch, settling on a rerun of Friends she has seen before. Her eyes stared blankly at the television, but she was not taking in anything that was happening in the story-line playing out, too lost in a daze of wondering if this was what she really wanted.

To isolate herself from everyone like she did over the summer.

She did not get a chance to make a decision as her mom blocked the television, hands on her hips, staring down at Blossom. Her mom was dressed in a silk, form-fitting black dress. Her orange curls tucked into an elegant bun, letting Blossom know that she was going out for a formal dinner or event that evening.

"Blossom," she sighed, tapping her heel ever-so-slightly against the wood flooring. "Is this how you're going to spend your Friday night? Why don't you go to Otto's Diner for old time's sake?"

"I—"

"I just don't want you to become a recluse, honey. I know it's hard to be mentally exhausted, but you have to let yourself have some fun," her mom explained. "I'm really concerned that you're just going to waste your time here."

"I'm… I'm not," Blossom defended, sitting up. "I'm actually going to go out with Bubbles tonight," Blossom said quickly, not realizing it came out of her mouth until she said it.

Her mom smiled at her, grabbing her clutch off the coffee table in the room. "Great. I'm going to be at a gala in Phoenix until midnight."

"Alright, have fun."

"You too, honey," her mom whispered, leaning over to kiss Blossom's forehead before heading out the door.

Glancing at the television and seeing one character going on a rant about the definition of what a "break" is, Blossom placed the bowl of kettle corn on the coffee table and tossed the blanket to the side. Rising from the couch, she headed up to her room to change out of the sweatpants and old North Townsville High gym shirt she wore.

Blossom decided to wear a pair of light-washed jeans with rips at the knees and a turquoise off-the-shoulder blouse. She swiftly brushed her hair before tucking a loose strand behind her left ear. Staring at herself in the mirror, Blossom took in a deep breath to calm her nerves.

"I can do this," she whispered to herself. "I can totally do this."

She flicked off the light switch in her room, heading downstairs, and grabbing the keys to her car and her wallet from the table in their foyer. Upon exiting the house, Blossom locked the door behind her and entered her car.

Once on the road, thoughts of just driving around aimlessly for the night flooded through her mind. If she did that, Blossom would not have to deal with the wrath of Buttercup. Or have to face the other half of their group. She thought about driving to the McDonald's, which was ten miles out of town, and grab a McFlurry or maybe some fries. Then there was the movie theater in Citiesville that was about an hour away. The thought of driving to Jojo's Auto Repair raced through her mind for a split-second before she turned down the idea.

In the process of figuring out what to do, Blossom did not realize she subconsciously drove to a destination. One she knew by heart from traveling to so many times.

Lake Canem Loquentes.

Taking the parking spot next to the blue Honda Civic she knew was owned by Bubbles and a motorbike she did not recognize, Blossom mentally prepared herself for the evening. She reminded herself of Bubbles' claims of everyone else not hating her. There was a chance she still had some friends.

She hesitantly unbuckled her seat-belt and then turned off her car. Blossom slowly opened her door, greeted by a stifling gust of hot, dry air. The heatwave was still in full effect despite the lack of the sun to add another layer of heat. She walked down the gravel path to the lake. Blossom stopped upon reaching the end of the walk, staring out at the moonlight shimmering onto the dark waters of the lake. Even if she spent the majority of her weekends here, the sight never ceased to leave her in awe of its beauty.

"Blossom!" She glanced down to where everyone collected by the shore of the lake, seeing Bubbles waving her arm before rushing over to Blossom's side. "I'm so glad you decided to come."

Blossom smiled weakly at Bubbles. "That's reassuring…" The smile faded when glancing over to the others who she could not make out entirely due to the dim lighting. "Does Buttercup know?"

"Yeah. I told her over dinner," Bubbles explained, looping her arm around Blossom's and walking her over to the group of people. "She wasn't exactly psyched about it."

"I should stay out of her way?"

"Oh, definitely," Bubbles nodded.

Blossom glanced at her, noticing the wool sweater Bubbles was wearing. "Bubs. Are you really wearing a sweater in the middle of a heatwave?"

"Yeah. I'm kind of chilly," Bubbles confessed, shivering a little at the mention of her temperature.

Blossom arched an eyebrow at her. "That's strange. Maybe you're getting sick or something."

"Oh, god, I hope not. I have a double shift tomorrow," Bubbles replied, unlinking her arm from Blossom when they reached the shore where everyone else stood. Blossom looked over at the others, able to see their faces now.

Buttercup was setting up some sort of sound system to play music, cursing to herself. At the same time, two males chatted animatedly next to her. She instantly recognized their faces, identifying them as Butch and Boomer.

Boomer had let his blond hair grow out, now allowing it to reach his shoulders. It made him seem more grown-up to Blossom.

While Butch had cut the long, curly locks he had all throughout high school into more of a clean cut. Blossom was surprised to see him there since an email she had received from her mom a month after leaving for MIT, stated Butch had enlisted for the Navy, according to Fuzzy, his dad.

There was another male by the shore, lighting up a cigarette. She figured the person was Ace Copular due to his slim frame and the nasty habit of smoking. He was Buttercup's occasional friend despite everyone's dislike towards the idea—it also made Blossom believe Buttercup had a crush on him.

Then there was a group of four girls standing in a circle, laughing at something being said. Blossom's rose-colored eyes narrowed at the auburn curls one of the girls' possessed. With that clue, she quickly figured out who the other girls were. Her face contoured in shock, turning to Bubbles and nudging her arm.

"Why are Princess Morbucks and the punks here?" Blossom whispered.

"I know. It seems super weird," Bubbles said quietly back. "But Buttercup and Princess have gotten pretty close after you left. And as you know, wherever Princess goes, the punks follow."

"Buttercup and Princess? I thought they hated each other?"

"I did too, but Buttercup says Princess is just misunderstood."

Blossom furrowed her eyebrows in disbelief. She did not understand how Buttercup could easily forgive Princess over their bitter rivalry since the first grade in just one year.

"I find this hard to believe."

"Trust me, I do too at times, but Princess has been pretty cool since…"

Bubbles trailed off, biting her lip and removing her gaze from Blossom. The gears in Blossom's mind clicked with the true meaning of what Bubbles was about to say.

"Since she replaced me?"

"Replaced is a strong word."

"It's fine, Bubs," Blossom sighed. "I left. I'm the one who abandoned my friendships. I would be a fool to think all of you would spend your time waiting and hoping for me to return and resume our friendship."

"Blossom…"

"I just wish you did, though," Blossom muttered. "It would make everything a whole lot easier."

"Being back in town?"

Blossom darted her eyes to Bubbles and then to Princess and punks. "Yeah…" she lied.

From what Blossom could see, Princess had lost some weight but still kept the curves in which helped her become Instagram famous. Her curls were tighter than ever, and gold jewelry decorated every inch possible on her body. She looked happier than Blossom could ever remember.

Blossom wondered if it had to do with her new friendships.

The punks were a group of three girls who Blossom, Buttercup, and Bubbles attended high school with. Berserk Sanchez, Brat Fatale, and Brute Boogieman.

Berserk came to Townsville during their freshman year of high school after immigrating from Venezuela. Formerly a brunette, she decided to dye her hair a bright orange sophomore year after a long shift at Sedusa's Salon. The electric color had a stark contrast against Berserk's smooth, brown skin and hot pink eyes. However, her hair color made her easily recognizable from anyone else—but Berserk already stood out profoundly due to her model-like appearance and height. Other than her looks, Berserk was known in high school for her apparent fiery temper, temptress behavior, and motor-mouth. It was for those reasons, Blossom had tended to avoid Berserk whenever she could.

Having been born in Texas, Brat had moved to Townsville due to her mom getting a job transfer to manage the town's bank. Brat still possessed a thick southern accent and wore cowboy boots for any occasion. Her skin seemed lighter than snow and had blue eyes that were comparable to the color of the ocean. It was her appearance that made Brat a popular choice among Blossom's former male classmates. Then they got acquainted with Brat's frequent habit of whining and dropped her within the next week.

Brute was born in Townsville but moved away for a good five years before coming back. Her hazel green eyes beautifully stood out against her ebony skin tone. She was known for having different hairstyles each week—today, she sported space buns that had forest green streaks mixing in with her natural shade of charcoal hair. Unlike the other two, Blossom did not know much about Brute other than she was the most tolerable, given how Blossom has seen her socialize with other people who were not Brat, Berserk, or Princess. Brute had the ability to float among groups, something the other two could not do.

The reason they were referred to as the punks was due to the origin of the trio being formed after they bonded over their love of femme punk bands in detention one afternoon during their freshman year.

It was strange for Blossom to see the three still have a strong friendship. She always thought it would be her, Bubbles, and Buttercup who would go the distance, but things did not go as planned.

Like everything else in her life.

She watched the four communicate, Princess talking excitably about how they should take a picture for her Instagram.

"We should do it by the water," she suggested. "So then the moon will be illuminating against us."

"But wouldn't it be hard to make us out?" Brat whined.

"It will highlight our silhouettes," Princess explained.

"If they can't see my face, I'm not doing it," Berserk argued, despite her attention being placed in the direction of where Buttercup and the boys were. Her tone had given off the sense Berserk did not genuinely care about the picture, while Brat nodded her head in agreement with Berserk.

"Fine," Princess shrugged, glancing at Brute. "You going along with them?"

Brute arched an eyebrow at Princess. "And why would I do that?"

Princess grinned wickedly at her. "That's an answer I like to hear."

Brute did not respond but did smile softly at Princess, following her down to the edge of the lake's water. She stood where Princess suggested, waiting for her to take a picture.

Princess tapped her chin in thought, looking around at the scenery before smiling to herself and running off into the direction of the pine forest that surrounded the lake. Before Brute could question what she was doing, Princess returned with two flowers in hand.

"Put this in your hair."

"Why?" Brute questioned, but she did as ordered, tucking the flower behind her ear.

"I like to include a light touch of nature on myself for all my pictures," she explained, following the same action Brute had just done. "And I knew the flowers growing by the pathway were too gorgeous for me to ignore."

Brute shrugged in reply as they prepared themselves for the photo, smiling widely at the camera on Princess' phone. Princess had placed her hand on Brute's shoulder, leaning in to create a sense of closeness between the two. Brute could feel heat rising in her cheeks from Princess' touch, trying to brush off the stir she felt in her chest while Princess proceeded to take more pictures until she found the amount to be acceptable.

Blossom did not realize how much she was spacing out from watching them until she felt a firm hand grab her shoulder, startling her.

"Aye, Bellum," Butch greeted with a wide grin, holding back the laughter he had from scaring her. He pulled Blossom into a shoulder hug. "It's been too long."

"I agree," she smiled up at him, happy to see Bubbles was correct about Buttercup being the only one from their group to hold a grudge.

Being gone meant Blossom had to readjust to the height difference between her and Butch. She was a solid five-foot-five while Butch was six-foot, five inches. Long conversations with him standing up could cause a significant strain on her neck sometimes.

Her eyes trailed to the figure next to Butch, her arms instantly wrapping around their neck.

"Boomer!"

Boomer returned the hug, lifting Blossom off of the ground a little. "It's good to see you too, Blossom."

Blossom pulled away, smoothing out her shirt before running her finger through the ends of Boomer's long hair. "You grew out your hair."

"You should see it when he puts it in a bun," Butch chuckled.

Blossom's eyes lit up with amusement. "A bun? Oh, I have to see that."

"Maybe another time," Boomer smiled forcibly, glaring at Butch.

"So…" Blossom's eyes darted between the two males. "What's new?"

"Nothing. I'm still working at White Kitty's," Boomer replied. White Kitty's was the town's pet store.

"What about you, Butch?"

Butch had discretely tossed his eyes in two different directions beyond her and then back to her. Blossom snapped her neck around to see what he had been looking at, only to find the punks in one direction and Buttercup still working on the sound system in the other. Buttercup had shouted out an explicit after accidentally electrocuting herself.

Blossom wanted to ask if she was okay, but she knew it would only cause more conflict. Plus, Bubbles immediately rushed over to Buttercup's side to see if everything was alright. Instead, Blossom turned back around to Butch, raising an eyebrow.

"Well?"

He shrugged his shoulders after being released from his distracted daze. "Working at my old man's bakery still, but I'm also taking some classes at the community college."

"Really?" Blossom grinned.

Despite them being a tight-knit group throughout high school, Butch and Boomer were a grade ahead of the girls. During the time, they were all concerned about Butch graduating because of his lacking want to do anything school-related. It took long cramming sessions, exhausted rants from him, and motivational speeches to get Butch to at least passing grades for his final exams to graduate. Afterward, Butch had declared his disinterest in pursuing any further education—it was the same mentality Buttercup ended up having after finishing high school too.

Hearing Butch had changed his mind was a pleasant surprise for Blossom.

He nodded, grinning subtlety. "Yup. I'm trying out sports marketing right now, but who knows? I might end up like Fuzzy and go to pastry school afterward."

"What changed your mind?"

Butch smiled. "Life can throw you a curve-ball sometimes that ends up being the change you didn't expect… if that makes sense?"

Blossom shifted in weight, wishing that her curve-balls in life had the same results. "I guess," she frowned.

"Yeah, it's crazy—"

Boomer nudged Butch's arm, capturing his attention and showing his phone to him. "Our beer supply has arrived."

"Fuck yeah," he grinned. Butch glanced at Blossom. "We'll finish this later."

Blossom nodded, watching the two head up the gravel path again, retrieving beer from their unknown source.

With Bubbles rejoining her side, they talked about Butch's decision about school. Bubbles did not explain why he suddenly changed his mind, merely stating he had shown up at the diner one day and said he was going to enroll.

Blossom neglected to ask about the Navy, deciding to save the conversation for Butch, feeling it must be a sensitive topic if Bubbles did not outright tell her about it.

The conversation shifted to catching up on the each other's favorite television shows from the year that they were apart. Bubbles was in the middle of explaining about a comedy with the concept of heaven and hell when the Blossom's rose-colored eyes got distracted by the sight of the new arrival joining Butch and Boomer. He was carrying a cooler Blossom presumed contained the beer and was wearing a red baseball hat. Furthermore, he was the mechanic who fixed her air conditioning.

The same person Blossom thought she would never see again.

She ran a hand through her hair, subconsciously fixing her appearance. Bubbles took notice of this, raising an eyebrow.

"You alright?"

Blossom nodded hesitantly, keeping the guys in her line of sight but not staring directly at them. "Yeah. I'm fine."

"You sure?"

"Yup."

"Okay… well, like I was saying. They think they're in heaven when actually—"

"Hey Bubs, you want anything to drink?" Boomer asked, having jogged over to where Bubbles and Blossom stood, his ocean eyes peering intensely at Bubbles.

Bubbles pursed her lips in thought. "Got any wine coolers?"

"Um, I'm not sure what Brick brought," he answered, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. "But I could check."

"Don't be silly. I can do it myself," Bubbles giggled, heading over to where Brick stood with Butch and Buttercup by his side.

Buttercup had finally got the sound system working, playing a flowy acoustic song over the lake's beach.

The corner of Blossom's mouth turned upward with amusement at Boomer's defeated face. She playfully nudged his shoulder, gaining his attention.

"Still got it bad?"

"Unbearably bad," he confessed with a sigh.

Blossom chuckled to herself despite Boomer's dismay. He had been trying to get with Bubbles since his eighth-grade year but had no luck due to Bubbles' obliviousness and Boomer's awkwardness. She, Buttercup, and Butch have each volunteered to help Bubbles get the message. Still, Boomer stated he wanted, if he and Bubbles were to get together, for it to be because of them and not any outside influence. After six years of pursuing her, Blossom figured Boomer would have quit by now.

"I'm sorry about that, Boomer."

"No, you're not."

"I am. I'm just amused by your dedication, that's all," Blossom explained.

Boomer let out a short chuckle. "Funny. Butch says the same thing."

Blossom smiled softly at him, patting his shoulder in comfort while she glanced over at the group around the cooler. She was looking for Bubbles, seeing if she did end up getting a wine cooler. Instead, Brick looked over at the same time she did, locking eyes despite the distance. Blossom quickly tossed her gaze away from him, turning back to Boomer.

"How do you know the guy in the red hat?" She said quietly, sneaking another glance at him to see if he was still looking.

Brick was consumed in a conversation with Butch and Buttercup instead—or Blossom could say just Buttercup since Butch's eyes were on the shore of the lake where the punks and Princess were, nodding along mindlessly to what was said.

Boomer raised an eyebrow. "Who? Brick?" Blossom nodded. "Oh… you remember the guy who went to South Townsville that Butch and I would talk about hanging out with sometimes?"

"Yeah…"

"Well, that's him."

Blossom furrowed her eyebrows. "How? Even if we did not go to South Townsville, we all knew everyone from our years."

"It might have to do with the fact that he was a senior when you were a freshman," Boomer suggested. "Plus, he lives on the outskirts of Townsville. He rarely ever comes into town."

"That's strange."

"That's Brick," he shrugged, his ocean eyes were focused on Bubbles across the beach. "I'm going to get a drink."

"You mean you're going to try impressing Bubbles?" Blossom acknowledged with an amused grin.

"What? No. I… You…" he slumped his shoulders in defeat. "Yes… but I need some liquid courage first." He cocked an eyebrow at her. "You want anything?"

"I'm good," she responded. "But thank you."

Boomer nodded, acknowledging her graciousness before walking over to the others.

Blossom contemplated whether to follow him or not but caught Buttercup sending her a glare after staring at the area for too long. Dejected by this action, Blossom decided to take a seat on the large rock protruding in the middle of the beach. It was a commonplace where she would hang out with her former friends during their many deep late-night conversations.

Once she sat down on the cool rock, Blossom stared up at the sky above them, still amazed by the moon's intensity.

"Hey, Blossom."

Blossom clutched her chest, eyes widened at the sound of the voice next to her, turning to see who it was.

On the other side of the rock sat Robin Snyder, her staple chestnut brown bangs making it easier for Blossom to identify her in the dim lighting.

"Robin. I didn't see you there," she breathed, her blood pressure still intense from being startled.

"No one ever does," Robin murmured to herself.

"What was that?"

Robin forced a smile. "Nothing… I didn't know you were back in town."

"Yeah. I came back five days ago."

"Five days?" She questioned in disbelief. "And I didn't hear anything about it?" Her sky blue eyes fell to the pair of worn-out mustard Converses she wore, hugging her knees. "Wow. Word travels in under five hours here, but I find out the biggest relevant news five days later."

Blossom pursed her lips, unsure of how to reply since she and Robin did not have a close relationship. Like Mitch, it was more based on association with Bubbles, which resulted in her to converse with Robin a few times before this night.

"I'm sorry about that."

Robin did not reply, simply continuing to stare out blankly in front of her. Blossom did the same, welcoming the silence between them. As she looked out to the moon, Blossom narrowed her eyes, believing to see a red haze in the air. It was difficult to make out, but she could see a faint transparent tint of the color against the dominant light shade of the moon.

Blossom turned to Robin once more, opening her mouth to ask about it when she heard a twig snap next to her. She swiftly glanced over her shoulder, preparing for whatever it is, only to release her tension when seeing it was Brick. Blossom smiled softly at him as he did the same while crouching down to the ground and grabbing any nearby twigs.

"How's your air conditioning treating you, sweetheart?" he asked, reaching over for more pieces of wood.

"Heavenly," Blossom responded

"Then I definitely earned that forty dollar tip you left me," Brick grinned.

"I was in a generous mood."

"I'm sure."

"But I guess you did deserve it," she teased. "I completely forget we're even in a heatwave until I leave my car," Blossom responded, forgetting all about the unusual color in the sky.

Brick chuckled to himself, piling up the twigs in a neat circle and pulling out a lighter in his pocket. "It felt like it was a hundred and twenty-seven degrees earlier today; yet, I'm building a fire because Bubbles is cold."

"She still has the chills? She is definitely getting sick."

"Or she's cold-blooded," Brick said flatly.

"There is no way Bubbles is cold-blooded. She has the warmest personality out of anyone I've ever known."

"I suppose," he shrugged, letting the flame of his lighter hit the pile of twigs he collected.

Once satisfied with the fire, Brick shoved the lighter into the pocket of his jeans, taking a seat next to Blossom on the rock. His hands supported his weight, leaning back, cocking his neck to face Blossom.

"So I'm guessing you went to North Townsville, huh?"

"And you went to South?"

Brick grinned at her. "That explains why I never saw you before despite always hearing your name whenever I came into town."

"Please." She tossed a strand of hair out of her face, peering deeply into his ruby-colored eyes. "If you did see me, you probably wouldn't have paid much attention to me."

He arched an eyebrow. "But here I am, giving you my full, undivided attention," Brick grinned.

"Maybe I'm wrong then," she said softly.

"Maybe so," he responded in a similar tone. They gazed into each other eyes in silence; the only sound being faintly heard was the laughter in the distance and the crackling of the fire. It was like they were the only ones on the beach.

That was until Robin cleared her throat, bringing them to the realization she was still there.

Brick followed Robin's action, coughing to himself. In contrast, Blossom glanced around to the others to distract herself from wondering if they just shared a moment.

Ace, Brat, and Brute were shotgunning cans of beer while Princess and Berserk watched with amusement.

Butch was sitting near the shoreline of the lake, skidding rocks across the lake water and doing his best to avoid looking in the direction of the loud commotion across the beach.

Boomer sat next to him, his feet free from the sneakers he wore. He had dipped them into the cold, refreshing lake water.

Bubbles and Buttercup were a few feet away from Butch and Boomer, appearing to be in a heated discussion as Buttercup spoke furiously with her hands.

Blossom attempted to listen in on what was being said between the two, focusing all her attention on them. From what she could make out despite their low tone, it seemed they were arguing about her. Blossom sighed dejectedly, lowering her eyes.

Brick took notice of this, raising his eyebrows. "Upset that they're arguing?"

She shook her head. "It's more about what they're arguing about."

"Ah." His eyes glanced over at Robin—who was trying to convey she was not listening, but Brick knew better—and then back to Blossom. "You want to take a walk?" Brick suggested.

"I, uh…" She furrowed her eyebrows, standing up. "Yeah. I do."

Brick nodded, rising from the rock and cocking his head to the right to gesture what direction they should walk in. She followed his suggestion. They strolled quietly with only the sound of the pebbles crunching under their shoes and the moonlight guiding them.

"So…" Brick said, disrupting the silence between them. "What happened?"

Blossom inhaled sharply, shaking her head, knowing exactly what he was referencing. "It's stupid, but… It's all my fault."

"How so?"

"I made the wrong decision," Blossom replied. "And then kept on making them afterward."

"I know what you mean," he murmured.

She wanted to ask Brick what he meant but thought against it. They did only meet two days ago, and that question seemed a bit too personal. "I wish I could go back in time and change everything. Make the right decision for once."

"You wouldn't learn if you don't make mistakes in life."

"I know," she sighed. "I just—"

Brick abruptly stopped walking, sticking out his arm in front of Blossom, which caused her to pause likewise. Her eyebrows were raised in confusion as Brick stared at the sky. His finger pointed up to the moon.

"The moon... It's turning red."

Blossom snapped her head up, widening her eyes at the sight of the moon becoming consumed by a wine-red and remembering the discoloration she saw in the sky earlier that night.

"Oh my god," she whispered in disbelief.

"We should get back to the others," Brick said firmly. Blossom nodded, following him back to where the group was. When they arrived, everyone was huddled around the shoreline, astonished by the moon as they were too.

"What the fuck?" Butch questioned.

"It's so beautiful," Bubbles grinned, mesmerized by the sky.

"Am I the only one who thinks something bad is about to happen?" Blossom asked around the group, getting no response as they all were too distracted.

"Hey. Do you see that white light in the distance?" Boomer inquired, pointing up to the location of which he spoke about. The others nodded, shocked by the natural phenomenon happening in front of them.

"I think it's a meteor," Bubbles squealed. "This is so amazing!"

Butch squinted up at the bright light, noticing it growing closer and closer with every second. "Um… I hate to be the one to say it, but that shit is coming right towards us!" He exclaimed with his voice on edge.

"Are you kidding me?" Berserk shouted, making a run for the parking lot while Brat sunk to her knees, screaming at the top of her lungs.

The others glanced at each other, searching for what to do, but before they knew it, it was already too late. The blinding light crashed into the shoreline where they all stood, consuming all of them into eternal darkness.

The pain was unbearable. Her head felt like it was going to explode. She could hear herself let out a moan, but it sounded foreign to her body. As if someone else was saying it ten feet away. Her eyes slowly fluttered open, a pounding in her head continued to grow in strength.

Fire was the first thing that caught her eyes. The blaze seemed to move towards her like a snake slithering in the grass. She rubbed her eyes, hoping she was not really dead, and this was not Hell.

The flames surrounded her body. Her throat became engulfed in smoke, making it painful to breathe. The brims of her eyes were watering as she coughed furiously.

Then the fire went out in the blink of an eye, turning into a more dense, grey smoke. She covered her mouth to not breath in the fumes, holding her breath as tightly as she could despite a voice in the back of her head saying it was pointless since she was already dead.

Her ears perked up at the sound of a wicked cackle. The smoke ceased to exist, a red figure with claws for hands stood in front of her. A grin plastered on their face, pinching the front of her shirt to pick her up from the ground.

"Foolish girl," the mysterious being teased. Their voice echoed through every inch of her skull. "Did you really think you could stop me?"

"Huh?" She whimpered, the intense pain in her head grew more and more with each second.

"And to think you had so much promise," they continued. "But I guess the others will do." Their mouth grew more in an eerily manner, sending chills down her spine. She has never seen anything more evil in her nineteen years of life. "Unlike your other friends."

"What?" she murmured, a little more alert.

In the distance, her eyes focused on the swirling smoke that appeared like a fiery tornado. She blinked back, realizing they were in the middle of Townsville and not the lake's beach like she initially thought. Right next to Otto's diner to be precise. As she figured this out, the tornado disappeared, revealing several bodies on the ground. She furrowed her eyebrows, not noticing the tears flowing down her face.

The hellish figure took amusement to her confusion, moving at a quick speed to the end of the street, letting her get a better look at the bodies.

She gasped to herself, trying to hold back any more tears, but it did not seem to happen.

On the ground laid Buttercup, Brute, Brat, Boomer, Robin, and Princess. Blood surrounded them in puddles, saturating the clothing they wore.

"What did you do?" She whispered venomously through her tears.

"I didn't do this, Blossom," they revealed in pleasure. "My associates did."

"Who are you—"

"You always did have a habit of repeating the same mistakes, didn't you?"

"I don't get it," Blossom cried in pain, rubbing her temples to ease the sharp throbbing in her head.

"You will, one day," the figure teased. "But as of now, I have to kill you."

"What—"

Before she could respond, a sharp claw pierced through her lower abdomen. Her body was thrown harshly onto the rough concrete of the street. Blossom stared up at the deep red sky, following the suit of the six other bodies near her, the life fleeting from her rose-colored eyes.

She launched up from her bed, her orange hair swaying in every direction. Her body was drenched in a cold sweat. Blossom placed her right hand on her forehead, wincing at the unbelievable tension from the headache she had. Her bedsheets were crumpled up on the ground from the swift movements of her awakening.

Blossom repeatedly blinked around her room, not understanding how she could be here. She should be dead. Yet, she was in her bed, wearing an old t-shirt and sleeper shorts.

She glanced at her nightstand, finding her phone placed there. Blossom quickly grabbed it, checking the date.

August 23…

It was Saturday. The day after Bubbles' plans for the lake hangout. This meant Blossom might have dreamt it all.

Blossom slowly rose from her bed, growing a bit lightheaded from the obsessive pounding in her head. She held the hand-railing of her staircase tightly to ensure she would not trip up in her weak state. Blossom glanced in the living room and then the kitchen, finding her mom sitting at the counter with a plate of eggs and a mug of coffee.

"There's my sleeping beauty," her mom greeted, smiling warmly at her. She arched an eyebrow at Blossom, taking keen notice of her clammy, pale appearance. "Had a little too much fun last night?"

"I went out last night?" Blossom asked weakly, heading for their refrigerator for a water bottle. She took a big swig of water while listening to her mother's reply.

"Yeah, honey," she replied, narrowing her eyes at her daughter. "Do you not remember anything?"

"No, no. I do. I just…" Blossom paused, trying to find a good excuse but settled with the most believable one. "I must have had a little too much to drink."

"Blossom," her mother sighed. "What did I tell you about underage drinking?"

"Don't get caught because it will ruin your credibility."

"Yes… But what else did I say?"

"To never drink and drive," Blossom murmured, realizing what she had implied.

Her mom stared coldly at her, contemplating on what to do. As she was about to reply, her phone began to ring.

"We'll discuss this later. You understand?"

Blossom nodded, watching her mom head for their backyard to take the call. Blossom saw this as her opportunity, heading up the stairs at the most rapid pace she could in the state she was in. Once in her room, Blossom changed into a pair of black athletic shorts, a pink tank top, and flip flops. She then went to the medicine cabinet in her bathroom, swallowing two Advils to help suppress her headache before making a beeline for the foyer, grabbing her keys and wallet.

Blossom peeled out of her driveway, acknowledging to herself that her mom would be more pissed at her, but she did not care. She needed answers—and she knew exactly where to get them.

After a ten minute drive and parking her car, Blossom entered Otto's diner. Her rose-colored eyes desperately searched for Bubbles, but they had landed on the booth in the back where Bubbles sat with Butch, Buttercup, and Boomer, engaged in a hush conversation. Blossom hesitated on whether to approach them, feeling they would not want her there.

Then Blossom remembered only Buttercup did not want her here. She still had friends who cared about her.

She was not alone.

Which was specifically what she needed because Blossom did not want to be alone in finding out what happened the night before.

"Hey guys," she greeted when approaching the table, startling Bubbles and Boomer while Butch smiled at her, and Buttercup glared.

"So let me guess," Butch said, leaning forward on the table. "You have no fucking clue what happened, right?"

Blossom nodded but quickly regretted the idea as her head intensified in pain, wincing dramatically to herself.

"Blossom, are you okay?" Bubbles asked, concern in her voice. She rose to her feet, motioning for Blossom to sit down. "Here. You should rest."

"Thanks," she replied meekly, scooting next to Boomer.

Buttercup rolled her eyes, huffing out hot air. "Unbelievable," she muttered.

Blossom pretended she did not hear Buttercup, focusing her attention on Bubbles. She raised an eyebrow at her appearance. "Bubs, you're wearing a sweatshirt? In this heat?"

"I said the same thing," Boomer chimed. "You're going to have a heatstroke in that thing, Bubbles."

"But I'm freezing," Bubbles explained, sticking out her hand to Blossom. "See?"

Blossom lightly touched Bubbles' hand, feeling her body instantly drop a few degrees just from Bubbles' touch. "Oh my god! You are!"

"I know! And when I woke up this morning, I swear my bedroom was at least forty degrees, but my thermostat was at seventy-five."

"That's strange," Blossom replied, unsettled by Bubbles' confession.

"No shit, Sherlock," Buttercup interjected, rising to her feet, speaking as she walked towards the exit of the diner. "I swear, the sound of your voice aggravates the fuck out of me."

"Buttercup!" Bubbles gasped.

Blossom rose to her feet likewise, following Buttercup and getting a grip around her wrist, turning her around.

"Please don't leave, Buttercup," she pleaded.

Buttercup snorted, stripping away her hand. "Try and stop me, you two-faced—"

Blossom blinked back, witnessing Buttercup stop talking mid-sentence, frozen in her stance. Blossom snapped her neck around to the others, finding them in a similar situation. Blossom's eyes widened, suddenly realizing her headache had seemed to disappear. She pondered over whether she did this.

All she did, was think about trying to find a way to stop Buttercup from leaving.

Blossom raised an eyebrow at Buttercup's stiff body. She did achieve her goal. Now only if she could find a way to get Buttercup back in the booth.

As the thought crossed her mind, Buttercup was free from her suspension, moving again. But this time, she stepped backward, taking a seat back at the booth. Blossom blinked to herself, finding herself sitting across from Buttercup and Butch again. Bubbles was sticking out her hand once more just as she had a couple minutes ago.

And then, everything began over again.

"See?" Bubbles questioned before expressing confusion. "I said this before…"

Buttercup furrowed her eyebrows. "What the fuck just happened?"

"I think…" Blossom whispered, glancing over to the wall-clock in the diner, seeing it was now two minutes behind from what it was when Buttercup got up to leave. "I think I reversed time."

"Like time travel?" Boomer asked in disbelief.

"Yeah."

"Yo… That's so fucking cool," Butch awed.

"You're believing this shit?" Buttercup criticized, speaking more towards Butch. Blossom caught on to this, lifting an eyebrow in question.

He shrugged at her. "Believable? No. But I like to believe in the unbelievable."

"You're so cheesy," she grumbled, slamming her hand on the table to help herself up. Her fingers grazed against a metal spoon that laid with the table setting. Upon her touch, several micro shocks of electricity spurred out.

Small lightning bolts sparked out from her fingertips.

"Holy shit. Ba—" Butch coughed to himself, clearing his throat before speaking again. "Buttercup, you just fucking conducted lightning."

Buttercup widened her green eyes, staring down at her hands as the others at the table did the same. "I… I did…"

"Guys…" Blossom spoke, gaining their attention—even Buttercup's. She winced a little, her headache slowly coming back to her. "Don't you think it's a little too coincidental that Buttercup and I gained some strange abilities after last night?"

"What are you trying to say?" Bubbles asked hesitantly.

"I'm trying to say, whatever sort of meteor that was last night… it must have given us powers or something."

Buttercup rolled her eyes. "This isn't a Marvel comic, Blossom."

"And I understand that, Buttercup," she responded through her teeth. "But it's obvious something strange has happened…" Her pink eyes darted among the four other faces at the table. "Am I going to be the one to say it?"

A silence persisted between the five, a somber expression clear from each one's face until Boomer spoke quietly.

"We all should be dead."

"Exactly."

"If… If we're going on this 'theory' that we got some sort of abilities from last night, then I think I should show you this," Boomer continued. He reached for the glass of water in front of Blossom. "I notice it when I was taking a shower this morning and how the water kept repelling off me… it was like I was… what's that one thing we learned in Biology?"

"Hydrophobic," Blossom answered.

Boomer pointed at her. "That." He dipped his finger into the glass. "Anyway, I was confused as hell—well, even more, confused because of everything—but when I'd focused all my attention on the water itself, I could do this," Boomer finished. He lifted his dry finger out of the glass, creating a trail of water that floated in the air.

"Dude," Butch breathed. "You can fucking waterbend! This is the sickest shit ever!"

"Okay… so maybe Blossom did have a point," Buttercup said begrudgingly.

Blossom smiled softly at Buttercup, hoping this was a sign of progress between them, but it was shot down by the hard glare Buttercup sent over.

"This is so pretty," Bubbles awed, reaching out to the free-floating water.

Her fingertip lightly tapped on the liquid. In an instant, the water and the rest of the contents in the glass crystallized into ice. Once she saw what she had done, Bubbles took a distraught step back.

"Oh my…"

"Wait…" Butch spoke. "All of you got some badass abilities, and I haven't gotten anything?"

"Is that all you care about, Butch?" Buttercup exasperated as he nodded. She groaned at his response.

"From us four, it's probable that you did too," Blossom answered. "And the same for the others at the lake, which is why we should talk to them."

"And what if they didn't get any powers?" Buttercup challenged. "We can't just assume things are the same… but then again, that's what you're good at, Blossom."

"Buttercup—"

"I'm out of here," she murmured, sending daggers at Blossom. "Don't you fucking dare try stopping me again."

The four remained quiet as Buttercup exited, leaving Blossom feeling ten times smaller after the interaction.

Butch exhaled loudly, breaking the silence. "I'll go calm her down," he said quickly, rushing out the door after Buttercup.

With the other side of the booth now empty, Bubbles took the opportunity to sit down again, tossing her eyes between Boomer and Blossom.

"So… what now?"

"We need to talk to everyone," Blossom repeated. "It's the only way we can confirm that, whatever happened, did have an effect on us."

"I don't know," Boomer replied, scratching his head. "I think Buttercup has a point."

"What?"

"Yeah. What if we're the only ones with abilities?" Bubbles responded. "This could turn out like the X-men. Everyone wanting to destroy the "mutants"."

"It's best if we keep a low profile for now," Boomer suggested. "Figure things out between the five us before mixing in the others."

"But…"

Blossom sighed to herself. The nightmare she had before waking up, replayed in her mind. Blossom had the gut feeling something of the supernatural sorts was in works here but could not voice her opinion.

Blossom knew she needed these four to help understand things better, and going against them would not benefit her at all. Agreeing with their decision was in her best interest, but it did not mean she was going to give up on her idea so quickly.

"Alright… we'll keep a low profile."

"Buttercup," Butch shouted down the street, following her into the alleyway that led to where he parked his car.

Buttercup paused her steps, reluctantly turning around. She folded her arms, raising an eyebrow at Butch. "Yes?"

He jogged a little to catch up with her. There was a concern expression on his face with a flash of impatience in his gaze. "What was that all about?"

"You know why," she grumbled stubbornly, not meeting his eyes.

Butch inhaled sharply, running a hand through his short, dark hair. "You have to get over it, Buttercup. It was a year ago."

"I should get over it?" Buttercup challenged, narrowing her eyes at him. "Out of everyone, I thought you would have my back and not hers."

"I'll always have your back over anyone," he said softly, placing his hands on her waist and pulling her closer to him. "But if this science fiction shit is legit, we need to stick together. Which means—"

"We need Blossom," she sighed in defeat. "I'm not going to enjoy this."

"I know, but I'll be right there to make things a little more tolerable."

"And how could you be so sure?" she teased.

"Because I'm your boyfriend and you love me and all that other junk," he grinned before bending down to kiss her. As much as she wanted to resist him, Buttercup had given in, kissing him back with a smile.

The couple was too wrapped up in their affection to notice the pebbles around their feet beginning to levitate.

Or to see the mysterious figure hiding in the shadows at the end of the alleyway, grinning wickedly to themselves before vanishing away.

It was midnight. Not a single soul in Townsville seemed to be awake…

Well, except for one.

Running their hand along the rough exterior of the abandoned candy factory, they watched as a trail of flames followed soon afterward. Their eyes glowed from the illuminating fire that soon surrounded the building.

A dark cloud circled around their body, transporting them two miles away from the burning building. From a distance, they watched blankly at the destruction they caused, not wanting to acknowledge the presence that stood next to them.

"Fire… my personal favorite form of chaos," the shadow figure beamed, their voice echoing like when a person spoke into a fan when it was on. Their soulless eyes peered at the individual next to them, "Congratulations. We're one step closer now."