Epilogue

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HI HI IM SORRY ITS BEEN OVER 2 MONTHS SINCE YOU'VE HEARD OF MY EXISTENCE I PROMISE IM NOT DEAD. no but really I'm sorry I just got in some bad shit but we're good now and I'm made this twice as long as I planned because I feel bad I'm so sorry enjoy the final chapter

• • •

Imagine the biggest smile one had ever seen. Now imagine that smile on Lucas' childlike, giddy face as he walked away back to his hotel. Some could say that was the happiest moment of his life.

• • •

Atlas woke up the next morning, well, more or less she had woken up that afternoon. Groggy with the make up still on her face and last night cleared from her head. For now.

She doesn't remember for awhile actually, far too tired and thinking about how messy the apartment is to give a fuck. There were cups and food and random streamers and balloons that say "Happy Birthday" everywhere. Her birthday, in all honest respect, didn't seem that great to her. She hadn't remembered enough to think so. She just gets up from her bed in a tired daze and goes to the bathroom to wipe her face off. Surely the make up would give her acne for leaving it on overnight.

She doesn't quite notice until she is done making breakfast and sitting with Jessie. They sit down at the breakfast bar and go on eating their pancakes. Until Atlas, of course, notices Jessie looking slightly paler than usually, eating her food slower. She chooses to show her concern in the way they'd always done.

"What's your damage?" Atlas asked while taking a swig of orange juice. Her brows were furrowed and her eyes, slightly squinted. Jessie doesn't get into these unusual states very often, but when she does you know something fucking awful must've happened.

Jessie, clearly noticing how her friend is in too tired of a state to realize anything that happened last night. Atlas was definitely sober when she got home, but she's far too dazed right now to think it was probably anything but real.

Jessie points her pinkie finger from the cup she's holding, directing it at Atlas' upheld wrist. "What's that on your wrist?" She says, curiosity utterly devoid from her voice. She knew exactly what it was, it was the one thing that'll make her realize what had happened.

Atlas has a puzzled look on her face, before she quizzically looks down at both her wrists to see what she meant. On the right one, there lay nothing. A barren, pale, slightly hairy and freckley, veiny arm lay before her. She feels around it for anything, still none.

She takes a look at the outside of her left. Still nothing there, just the normal. But then she turns it around.

One could say if you played that moment in slow motion, you could see all the memories finally flying past her. The shock is incredibly visible on her face, mouth almost as wide as her eyes. She audibly gasps as every event of last night hits her. The dumb party, the car, the house, the concert, Malachi, that weird guy in the elevator, the cliff dives, the beach, the feeling of the sand between her toes and the salt water directly on her skin, the roof, the stars, the sunrise, the tattoos. Lucas.

All too quickly, she drops her orange juice on the floor and stands up from her seat at the breakfast bar.

      "No no no no no no no no" She says as she makes her way back up the stairs to her room. Her heart is racing far too fast. She gets up to her room, slams the door open, then closed. And opens the window. She takes in a deep breath of the fresh air that she needs, then goes to the mirror.

      She looks herself straight in the eye, "What did I do." She groans and places her head in her hands. This is awful. This is horrible. She fucked up, she fucked up big time.

     But she can never go back.

      And what do you do when you can't go back?

• • •

      Lucas found himself much more excited to get off the plane than he should have been. After all, it wasn't that long of a flight, there was no need to feel exasperated or tired. But he felt beyond happy for finally being able to be rid of the plane. Ecstatic even. He wanted to see his family again, and friends of course.

      But there's also the number of the most amazing girl he had ever met in his phone. And he couldn't wait to call it.

      Throughout his whole flight, he went through how the conversation would go in his head, they'd talk for hours upon hours upon hours, until it'd eventually lead to something more.

      But he also understood this circumstance he was in. If he calls too soon he might seem desperate, which he admittedly is, but Atlas doesn't need to know that.

      He chose to wait three days.

      Those three days he spent trying his best to get his mind off of it. He spent time with his friends and family, and he did have fun and enjoy it, but Atlas was always there buzzing at the back of his mind. Always.

      On his fourth day he woke up, chose to eat first, and then make the call. It feels like it should be capitalized in his mind. The Call. The Most Important Call that will start something completely new and hopefully beautiful.

     He presses the call button underneath her name on his phone, Atlas. It just sounds like a new start, doesn't it?

      He counts the rings as they go. 1....2....3....4....

      "Hello?" A groggy voice says.

      His heart sinks, not the voice he was expecting.

• • •

      What do you do when you can't go back?

      You try anyway.

• • •
IM SO SORRY THAT THIS HAD TO BE MY COMEBACK YOU POOR HUMANS THAT ACTUALLY READ THIS.

Sincerely, Me

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