No Will/Chelsea in this chapter, but like I've said before, Denny's very important to this story. So here ya go.

This was stupid.

Crazy, ridiculous, insane, just...well, just stupid!

It'd been only a few days since the incident at Halia's, but those few days had been very much an eternity for Denny, filled with fitful sleep, fishing struggles, and little-to-no appetite. He was becoming the kind of person that he always scoffed at, and vowed never to become: the lovesick fool.

Were he and Lanna over? It wasn't just the argument about him "not being romantic"; it was a stale repetitiveness, circling the relationship like a shark and the episode at the cafe was just the razor-sharp jaws closing in for the kill, with Denny left flailing helplessly.

He'd first become aware of the drift between them at the beginning of Summer. He was on his way back from a late lunch with Lanna, when he saw Elliot and Julia along the shoreline near his house, talking and generally enjoying each other's company, just as they did at least once a week. And Denny never really thought much of them hanging out (because it wasn't his business anyway), other than that there was some obvious level of attraction between them. But lunch with Lanna that day had been particularly dull, where the conversation was as lifeless as the bream that was on his plate. A remarkably powerful surge of what he could only believe was envy hit him as he saw his two friends at the ocean's edge. Elliot and Julia weren't even a couple (or maybe they were? Whatever.) and they seemed so much more...well, happy with each other than he and Lanna. Not bored, or alternately, walking on eggshells fearing any wrong word might cause her to erupt.

At the Fireworks Festival, he'd pulled her aside and stumbled through a not-very-well-thought-out apology that bordered on pathetic, consisting only of "I'm sorry!"s and reassuring her that he knew her eyes were brown (and quite beautiful at that). Lanna replied rather coolly that it was fine, but that she was going to watch the fireworks with Eliza anyway, because the little girl would be so disappointed if she didn't (Denny was dying to ask "And I wouldn't?", but knew it'd only be answered by him being physically assaulted in some way for the umpteenth time that day).

Denny certainly didn't think it was "fine" that they could barely communicate with each other anymore, and to make matters worse, he had no one to turn to for advice (or, what he thought would be the better solution, a slap in the face to regain his senses). Chelsea had been more than perceptive to the fact that he could use definitely use a friend, on several occasions offering her free time to him in case he wanted to investigate the waters of the newly-risen Mystic Islands, or just stay at his shack and vent. But she was dating Will now, and Denny just didn't think it'd be fair to deprive her of experiencing that thrill of a new relationship, just because his was screwed up.

He didn't want to pass the blame entirely to Lanna, but dammit, if she did notice that their relationship was in danger of collapsing, she was not being very proactive about attempting to mend it. It was up to him, and with the way he'd been led to feel he could do very little (if anything) right anymore in her eyes, all he really wanted now was an answer from her: What happened?

The answer to that sleep-draining question came, funnily enough, at Charlie's birthday party. It wasn't so much a party as it was a small gathering (just Charlie, Eliza, and Denny), but either way, Charlie was bouncing off the walls with excitement over the fact that his two best friends were there to share chocolate cake and ice cream, and most importantly, to give him presents.

Charlie's gift from Eliza was a version of Parcheesi with wooden pieces that Gannon had carved himself, and it was midway through their third round of it that Eliza stood up and announced that she had to leave; she had singing lessons with Lanna.

"You're just leaving 'cuz you're losing!" Charlie stuck his tongue out at his friend.

"Please, Charlie, I don't care if I lose a silly childrens' game." Eliza rolled her eyes and smoothed out the skirt of her dress. "I really do have singing lessons, and Lanna said I could help her make the posters for her comeback."

"Her what?" Denny stood up so fast that he nearly upended the game board. Popper echoed his owner, repeatedly chirping "What! What! What!" in a frazzled way.

"You didn't know?" Eliza reminded him very much of Lanna in that moment, her head tilted to the side and her voice coated with an artificial concern to mask the pride that she knew something he didn't. "Oh, I guess Lanna hasn't seen you much lately. She's been so busy with me and with trying to get everything together for her comeback. Talking to her manager, her family, all that important business stuff."

So she was serious about it after all. It did explain why she'd been so crabby lately. Here Denny thought it was just "girl things", but he also knew when Lanna became focused on something, she didn't exactly retain her sense of humor.

"You're not really into music, are you, Denny?" Eliza asked, observing Denny's state of despondence. The fisherman barely shook his head "no" before she continued. "Well, I guess it'd be a lot like trying to talk to Charlie here about fashion: I know he cares because it's about me, of course, but could he really understand?"

"Hey! I know like, lots of things about...lots of things!"

Eliza and Charlie started bickering about what Charlie supposedly did and did not know, but Denny wasn't listening. He was thinking about what Eliza had said. What could he have really done to support Lanna? Not much; in fact, he probably would have only added to her irritability by sidetracking her.

Charlie and Eliza were too embroiled in their disagreement to hear Denny tell them that he'd won on account of forfeit, before he grabbed a piece of cake for the road and set off back to his house.

He was more keyed up that evening than the rest of the previous nights combined, unable to do anything but hold a never-ending cyclical conversation between himself and Popper, as if the bird were Lanna. It did very little good, with Popper just repeating the end of Denny's questions and sometimes even dozing off when Denny would rant on and on about why Lanna/Popper shouldn't pursue a comeback. This was, as he'd kept telling himself the past few days, stupid, yes, but he couldn't believe he'd been stupid enough not to see it coming.

All Lanna had talked about lately was her career, and not just the past, but plans for the future. Denny didn't mind that much at first, because it was perfectly fine that they each have their own "thing"; he had his adventures with Chelsea, she had her love for music that she could gab about with Eliza. It was just that the Lanna he'd fallen for never wanted to be part of that merciless entertainment world again. The only thing he'd heard from her was how it could've eaten her alive if she hadn't gotten out when she did.

Yet, seemingly without any sort of provocation, she'd become infatuated with the idea of singing again and the adoration and popularity that coincided with her success. Denny decided it'd be best for him to not say anything at all, instead of expressing how he truly felt, because it had to just be a phase. His silence was interpreted as explicit disinterest, with Lanna glaring at him practically every time he'd change the subject so readily. He supposed he could tell her the truth, that she was far too sensitive to return to an industry that had mistreated her so greatly, but that would probably end in her crying (proving his point, yes, but...) and leaving him feeling like the world's biggest jerk. It still wouldn't change his opinion, though. He never was, and never would be, able to genuinely comprehend the celebrity lifestyle. It was something he could never take from her, and even though she'd made it very clear when they first started dating that her time on the Islands was just a hiatus, he'd been so stupid to believe that love conquered all, including hiatuses.

Still, Denny really wanted to know what could that world give her that he couldn't? Sure, fame and fortune and awards. Basically, superficial garbage that paled in comparison to how much he cared about her.

That's what should have told her instead of trying to be funny! Damn retrospect. Damn music business, damn women, damn everything!

He hurled an empty bait container at the wall, frightening Popper.

"Geez, sorry there, buddy." Denny sighed heavily as he picked up the container. What am I doing, acting like this? He'd been through tough times before. Granted, none of them had to do with a woman he was desperately in love with, but why should he be in here throwing a tantrum? It was in Lanna's hands now, and he was just going to drive himself bonkers if he stayed cooped up in here, overanalyzing everything and projecting his frustration onto Popper.

Fishing. He was gonna go fishing. And he was gonna catch a King Fish too! He was. Forget the fact that he hadn't caught even a boot in the past few days, or that he wasn't even sure if the King Fish was lurking in the depth of the Sprout Island ocean at the time being. He was going to do it anyway!

So much for that bright idea. Five hours, ten casts, and one repaired fishing line later, Denny was still empty-handed. He kicked at the boulder behind him, the one located at the southeast corner of Sprout Island that he had half a mind to catapult into the ocean himself. It would create a spectacular splash, propelling fish skywards and raining them down around him. Exactly how he was going to do that was another thing entirely, but it was no more impossible than his current method of fishing like a sane, normal person.

Denny was seconds from tying the small pocketknife he used to fillet fish to the end of his rod and going charging into the sea himself, using Shea's technique of spearing fish as a last resort, when something pink and squirmy burst up from the waves. What the hell...? Was that a...a tentacle? He closed his eyes for a moment, shaking his head before reopening them. It was still there, thrashing around, joined by one, three more. Definitely tentacles. An octopus.

He'd never caught an octopus before. He'd never even seen an octopus other than on a dinner plate. It was, and could only be, fate that he'd hit the lowest of lows over a girl and here was life smacking him in the face and reminding him why he'd come here in the first place.

Holding the minnows that he used for bait in his hand, he stared blankly between them and the hook as all of the fishing knowledge he'd accumulated over the years evaporated in that moment. What did octopuses even eat? Didn't they eat people? Or was that squids? He glanced at Popper, who had no idea what was going on. No! What's wrong with me? They don't eat birds, especially not my best friend! Get a hold of yourself, man!

Well, they have to eat something. He pierced two minnows onto the hook and set his feet the best he could in the damp sand. Whipping the rod way above his head, he wheeled back and-

"Dennnyyy!" The one voice he'd given up a whole month of free sashimi to hear cut through the air at precisely the worst instant. Denny lost the grip on his fishing rod as he completed his cast, and the pole went zinging into the air, arcing high like a javelin and landing with a feeble splish! not too far from the octopus. He shouted out an obscenity as one of the octopus's treetrunk-like tentacles came crashing down on it, obliterating it. A few seconds later the octopus vanished beneath the waves, any sign of its existence gone other than the splintery remnants of his pole floating around aimlessly as the water calmed to a smooth, stony blue-grey. He slowly, disbelievingly, turned to see Lanna with her large eyes focused down at her feet, twiddling her fingers nervously.

Timidly, she approached him and gave him a gentle peck on the cheek, resting both her hands on either shoulder as she did. "I'm sorry, Denny."

"It's...it's not your fault." It was so her fault! She knows better than to interrupt me when I'm mid-cast, and that's why! She did sound truly sorry though, but he couldn't bring his eyes to meet hers right now, so engulfed with a displeasure that would ignite into a childish tirade if he did. His tongue felt like a deadweight, crushed under the deluge of "why, why, WHY!"s he wanted to spew at her. "What...what's up?"

"I wanted to apologize for how I've avoided you lately. You haven't done anything wrong, I promise. I just didn't know how to tell you about my-"

"Comeback?"

Lanna inched closer to him, laying her head on his chest. "Mmhm. Eliza said she told you about it."

"Yeah."

They stayed in silence for a while, save for the tune she was humming to herself. Her long fall of hair streamed in the wind behind her, and for the first time since they'd met, Denny found himself able to resist the urge to comb his fingers through it. In fact, he didn't want her here at all. He wanted to return to his house to get another fishing rod, then find Chelsea and recant what happened with the octopus, and maybe try to catch it again. Now he understood how Lanna must have felt the past season, with his always-well-meaning interruptions being nothing but the most irritating of disruptions.

Eventually she drew her hand up and set it to his face, forcing him to look at her. "Denny, I'd really like it if you supported me. It would mean everything if you did." She batted her eyelashes, smiling that effortlessly sweet smile that he was sure she had practiced to perfection on dozens of men before him, to get her way. That was when something clicked inside him. Much like a switch had been thrown, he could feel his unabating adoration for her unraveling like a spool of twine that was rolled off a cliff. He escaped from her touch, and she let out a pitiful whimper when he did.

"I don't know, Lanna."

It was the first time he hadn't yielded to her merely because of her pretty face, evident by the bewilderment that was pasted on it. Her smile withered away as she absorbed the fact that the spell she'd had him under was broken, shattered like his fishing rod. Only right now, Denny had a much stronger longing for his fishing rod to be repaired. "Y-you...you don't know? Don't you want me to go back into singing?"

"I want you to do whatever you want, okay? Whatever would make you happy. But I can't go with you, if that's what you mean. I can try to support you from here, if you'd want to do that long-distance thing but..."

Denny paused, contemplating why Lanna hadn't exploded at him yet. No, that wasn't what she wanted. Anything but an unconditional commitment to her was unacceptable, and he could see her using every ounce of resolve she had left to put on a brave face, but there were cracks everywhere. Her eyes were rimmed with tears, her jaw was set, and her chest was heaving with deep steady breaths.

"You know," she began through a sob, then errantly brushed at the tears that were now trailing down her cheeks. "You know, you're the only reason I didn't leave already, Denny. I mean, this place is nice, but staying here for the rest of my life?" She shuddered and again wiped at her eyes.

"I...I don't think it's so bad." He took a step towards her but she backed away.

Popper fluttered over to her, crowing sadly. She sniffled and hugged him as he nestled into the crook of her arm. "I just thought you'd want to get out of here, even for a little bit, and see where I came from."

"Lanna, I don't like where you came from! Everything you've described to me, it sounds like complete hell! When you first came here, you were so miserable about the way they treated you. You said it yourself that they called you 'disposable' to your face! Forgive me if I don't get why you'd wanna go back there when...okay, maybe I'm not perfect, but I assure you I've treated you a hell of a lot better than they ever could or would. What's wrong with what we have?"

A rhetorical question if he'd ever asked one. It was amazing how he'd wondered the same thing himself but a few hours ago, and now here he was trying to figure out what wasn't wrong.

Lanna must have been thinking the same thing, her eyebrows knit together and her lips flattened into a thin frown. "I don't think you want me to answer that, Denny. If you can't even consider taking time out of your oh-so-busy life to-"

Denny prided himself on being offended by very few things. Unfortunately, Lanna knew what those few things were. "Don't you freakin' start! Don't you patronize what I do!" Popper soared out of Lanna's arms, circling overhead and squawking in confusion at the animosity that had saturated his surroundings.

Lanna stood with her hands balled into fists. Denny kept an eye on them; they were shaking violently, as if it was taking everything in her not to wallop him with one. "Then don't you act like I don't know what I'm getting into! I told you when I came here that this was a hi-a-tus! Do you know what that word means? I'm not even twenty-two, I'm not going to spend the rest of my life here! If you're so idiotic as to think that I-"

"Idiotic?" Another button pushed. Denny laughed humorlessly, incredulous, and at this point not caring anymore what he said to this mystery woman who had replaced the girl he'd given his heart, his soul, his everything to. "I'm an idiot? Lanna, you're the one who doesn't get it. You know, if I asked you to give up part of your life to stay here while I go after the King Fish, you wouldn't do it, but guess what? I wouldn't expect you to. But you expect that from me? Really? And that you were even ignoring me in the first place after I've all but bent over backwards to try and make you happy, make you see you're more than just some pop star? If you wanna go back to singing, fine. Just don't come crawling back to me when they kick you to the curb again."

Lanna raised her open hand, ready to strike, before reconsidering and dropping it to her side. The tears reappeared, spilling out, her voice breaking from what he surmised was the effort of believing what she was saying. "I only asked you to come with me because I lo-" She couldn't finish her sentence, wracked with sobs and not even attempting to hide it anymore.

Oh Goddess, it wasn't supposed to reach this point. Denny didn't want to be the evil ex-boyfriend; he wanted there to be some sort of peace between them, because he would always at least care about her. He advanced towards Lanna, hand outstretched, but she smacked it away furiously.

"No! I don't need you, Denny. I made it the first time without you, I can do it again!" With that, she turned sharply on her heel and fled from the beach as fast as she could, her muffled cries echoing behind her.

Rubbing his wrist (which had gone numb with the rest of his body), he watched her figure until it disappeared into the horizon. Popper hovered down onto his shoulder, cooing softly, but all Denny could hear was Lanna's last sentence reverberating in his head.

I know you can, Lanna. I know.

Buh I had the hardest time with this because I didn't want to make either of them the villain, but still wanted to show the obvious strife between them. Denny/Lanna is weird to me: I like them a lot, and they have their cute moments, but at the same time don't see it as a couple that stays together and gets married. This was supposed to be longer, too, with an extra scene with Denny and Chelsea, but I'm really satisfied ending it like this.

Soooo anyway, of course thanks go out to all my reviewers, alerters, favoriters and readers!

And Will/Chelsea is next chapter, don't you worry. :P