Her apartment was in the part of town where there isn't a lot of vegetation. So it didn't surprise me when I saw her kneeling in the dirt, planting some sort of flower. I parked my car and walked over to where she was.

"Hey, Sonny," I said nonchalantly. "Whatcha doing?"

"Why do you care, Chad?" she snaps back at me.

"I sense a little bit of attitude here, Munroe."

"I've just been working hard, so I'm a little tense. And it's none of your business, but I'm planting daffodils."

"Daffodils?"

"Yes, daffodils."

"Why do you have to plant daffodils?"

"Because they make me happy." I watched her pat the soil around her latest flower lovingly. "And because the area around my apartment is dull. I thought some daffodils might spruce up the place a bit."

She started to dig another hole. After brushing away a strand of hair, she left behind a dirt streak. When she didn't notice it, I brushed it off, and I swore I saw her smile. After another pat of soil around the newly planted daffodil, she looked up at me expectantly.

"Well, are you just going to stand there all day or are you going to help me?"

"But I just got new clothes!"

"Clothes can be replaced; however, a chance to make a difference is right now."

Before I could complain, she thrust a shovel in my hand. "Start digging a five by five inch hole," she instructed. She watched carefully as I dug one, two, three scoops of dirt out. I raised an eyebrow at her to indicate that I was finished, but she shook her head. "It needs to be a bit deeper." I groaned, and dug out another scoop of dirt. She nodded her approval, and took out the daffodil from its temporary pot.

"Now all we have to do is put the flower in the hole and sprinkle some soil around it."

Together, we put the daffodil into the hole and we patted the soil down. This routine went on for about ten more flowers. When we ran out of daffodils, we stood back to admire our handiwork. And I've got to admit, after seeing all of those flowers in the middle of a place with hardly any plants, daffodils might just become my favorite flower. Sonny beamed with pride beside me. She looked at me to see my reaction, but not one to let her know that I actually enjoyed working hard, I turned my head to the side and got into my car. As I drove away, I saw a glimpse of her face. Instead of pride, I saw hurt.

I pass by her apartment when I go to Condor Studios. I drive along, only noting the bland surroundings of buildings, when suddenly I see the bright colors of Sonny's apartment. And in the back of my mind, I smile. Because I know that I helped create that image.

Spring passed, and the daffodils stopped blooming and went back to their boring stem stage. I think it was in July when I walked into the Studios and I saw Sonny crying and hugging her cast mates. When I went over to see what was wrong, she tackled me into a hug.

"I'm moving back to Wisconsin," she said, muffled because her head was buried in my shoulder. When I calmed her down a little bit, she stopped hugging me and looked me squarely in the eye.

"I'm not coming back to Hollywood. My mom wants me to go to college, and the university is located in Wisconsin. Today's my last day here."

It took me a while to process what she was saying to me. Leaving? Forever? And not coming back? Unable to control my emotions, I pulled her back into another hug. I could feel the stares of some of her cast, but I didn't care. In that moment, I didn't want to let Sonny get away from me. When we finally let go, she said, "Take care of the daffodils for me, will you?" I nodded. She grabbed her bags and walked out of the studio for the last time.

I kept my promise, and I watered the daffodils every week. But come next spring, no daffodils blossomed. I remember hearing somewhere that daffodils come back in the spring, so this puzzled me. Nonetheless, I kept taking care of the daffodils. But many years have passed now and the daffodils never bloomed. And since that last day the daffodils were in bloom, I don't recall ever seeing another one. It didn't matter what time of year it was, or what location I went to, or any other detail that might affect it. I had searched high and low for another burst of yellow.

But I never saw another daffodil.