Rebecca had plenty on her plate professionally, but she returned to New York with the commitment to not let her personal life suffer as a result. Her time in England was marred by her busy behaviors, as well as her inability to let go of what she left behind in America. She and Agnes made the choice to end things mutually, but Rebecca got on her plane with no doubt in her mind that they would return to one another once she was done with school.

Her relationship with Agnes felt like fate, and that left her taking it for granted as an inevitability. When she stopped hearing back from Agnes, she fell into denial, coming up with reasons and excuses for the radio silence. Once she got past denying the truth, she still had four steps of grief to work through, and her anger, bargaining, and depression kept her nose buried in books and away from the London nightlife for the last year of her schooling.

With her return stateside, it was time for her to finally reach the fifth stage: acceptance. Agnes had disappeared, and it was no longer Rebecca’s place to go find her. The redhead was coming back out of her shell, returning to the former flirty form she had developed in college. After meeting an old friend at the Mansion and regathering some of her confidence, Rebecca was putting herself out there. New to the world of the single twenty-something, she was not hopping straight into the bars and clubs of Manhattan, but she was a presence on the internet, which opened up unique opportunities.

There was another creator, Nessa from The Pow Block Party, Rebecca had collaborated with in the past. She was friendly once one got past her blunt demeanor, and as a local girl in Queens, Rebecca felt confident proposing the idea of meeting in the city for a drink.

There was chic little wine bar, Gotham’s Lost Lady, one of her colleagues gave her the heads up about. It was a small place with dim, intimate lighting and mellow, acoustic music filling the bar at a volume low enough to still carry a conversation.

The night was going surprisingly well. Nessa was a fan of literature, while sharing some of Rebecca’s nerdier proclivities, (which, given her spot on a Gaming Channel, was not surprising.) Rebecca sipped at her Sweet Red, hiding a smile behind the glass as Nessa teasingly called her out. ”You know, I’m glad you asked me to come out tonight. To be honest, I was starting to think you didn’t have it in you.” Nessa grinned after the comment, which was often the only way Rebecca could recognized she was being taunted given the brunette’s dry delivery.

”An’ haur Ah thought Ah was worth th’ wait,” Rebecca shot back, feeling more confident than she did when she arrived earlier that night. She was out with a pretty woman she could relate to, she was rocking her little black dress, and she was having a genuinely good time. She was righting her ship, and it was about time, too.

It was cold in New York. Agnes had forgotten how cold it could get during this time of year. She should have been used to it, considering that she was born and raised (raised herself) here, but her years of traveling with the Little Symphony Travel Co. had somewhat left her ability to appropriately gauge weather as marred. She had traveled everywhere across the country, state after state to perform shows. She had seen everything from scorching deserts to hail the size of grapefruits being hurled through the sky. It was a scenario that she should have been ready for. And yet, after only a few months in New York, she still wasn’t.

Despite the chill in the air from the winter months, Agnes managed to slip into her favorite red dress. It hugged her curves perfectly, the hem coming down only about midway on her thighs with a plunging neckline that afforded quite the eyeful when she turned or bent at the appropriate (or inappropriate) angles. It was her favorite dress not because it was the most comfortable in the world, but because it was the one that River seemed to love the most.

Ah River. Agnes had to hand it to her that her fiancée was being a real trooper. Only three months ago Agnes was informed that she had been selected for the position of principal second violin at the New York Philharmonic. It was the opportunity of a lifetime, however, deep down Agnes knew that this was a potential strain on her relationship. River loved the Traveling Co. and was reluctant at the idea of leaving. Agnes, on the other hand, knew precisely that long-distance relationships just don’t work – it was a hard lesson, that one.

However, she had been surprised River made the choice to go with her. It was a harsh beginning. Agnes had a good and steady job and while she could easily provide for the both of them to live modestly, River was a worker. She needed to be around people, playing her music. The harpist was one of the best, at least according to Agnes, but for whatever reason she was just having a hard time finding steady work. Already a month in to living in New York, River was showing some signs of depression and, try as Agnes might, she couldn’t get her to snap out of it. It was safe to say that she felt their time together was coming to an end and it would be her fault – again. But, River surprised her once again. Pulling herself up, she did the one thing that Agnes wasn’t expecting – she proposed.

---

Gotham’s Lost Lady was quickly becoming a favorite haunt of Agnes’. Though she had never been much of a drinker, she did start to develop a taste for wine as she got older. Now twenty-three, the young woman loved having a nice glass of wine a couple times a week, usually on weekends when she was with River. Social drinking was never state of Agnes’, but she could do it now that she had more permanent colleagues. Today, however, it was not a work-related matter that brought her to the wine bar, it was for a seduction. No, she wasn’t some trollop trying to pick up other women while she was happily engaged (thought happily is a bit strong of a word, no?), Agnes had set the date up with River and was currently waiting for her.

Situated at the bar, Agnes sighed as she sat on the stool, one slender leg crossed over the over as she casually swirled the glass of moscato she held. The white wine smelled sweet to her, exactly the kind that she liked. It was such an enticing aroma that even the translucent wings upon her back gave a flutter of excitement. That made her slightly cautious but it seemed that far worse walked around the streets of New York City. What was a little girl with possibly fake wings on to the rest of them?

She took a sip of her wine before she pulled out her cellphone from the clutch she had sitting upon her lap. Pulling the rose gold phone up, she swiped across the screen with her thumb and pulled up her messages -- still nothing from River. The background to her phone was a picture of the two of them: Agnes dressed casually in jeans and a large sunhat on and glasses while sticking her tongue out, next to her was a raven-haired, Native American woman with bronze skin and a sweet smile. The two were posing together for a selfie, River’s arms wrapped around Agnes’ shoulders and both were sticking their tongues out. The picture always made Agnes smile. Still, she was hoping her fiancée would get here before someone attempted to awkwardly flirt with her.

Chewing on the inside of her lip, she pulled up her messenger and typed up text: Hey. I’m at Gotham. Where u?

A few seconds ticked by before she saw that River was responding (thankfully). A chime pinged through the air as she read the response. On my way. Audition is over. Went ok.

Agnes sighed. It was River’s third audition for a music company. She crossed her fingers (toes, eyes, everything) in hopes that it would lead to something. Sending a winking smilie in return, she found an emoji of a red dress and sent that to follow. A second later there was another ping as River responded with an emoji of a little woman running. That made the young violinist laugh out loud as she shook her head. She slipped her phone back into her clutch and turned to look out over the interior of bar. It was still so surreal being here. She hoped it wasn’t a mistake to come back.

”Sae it’s mair ur less accepted ‘at in th’ comics Gotham is in New Jersey, saw havin’ thes bar haur—”

Rebecca could not finish her giggly explanation before Nessa’s laughter was cutting her off. ”Has anyone ever told you that you’re the biggest, cutest nerd in New York?” she asked, punctuating her question with a sip of merlot. Her dark red lipstick left a light imprint at the edge of the glass; Rebecca’s attention was now being drawn to those full painted lips the longer the night went on.

Of course Rebecca had heard that compliment before, but her second glass of wine was keeping it from returning to the forefront of her mind. ”If they hae, Ah cannae min’,” she replied, meeting her eyes and feeling the sparks between them. When she made the bold decision to ask Nessa on a date, Rebecca kept her expectations low, but she was suddenly intrigued by where their evening might be going.

A blush was cast over the Scot’s cheeks when she felt the warmth of Nessa’s free hand resting atop hers in the middle of their small table. ”Consider me happy to be the first,” she said warmly, making the daring decision to lean in over the table and kiss her cheek. It was a forward decision, but one Rebecca appreciated; as much as her confidence was returning, she wanted Nessa to bridge the gap she was leaving there with her hesitation.

Before Nessa could pull away completely, Rebecca leaned forward, using the liquid courage in her to reply to Nessa’s boldness and kiss her lips before they could stray too far. It was a small kiss, but it was what she needed; a pure, sweet moment with someone new, and the possibility that she could maybe start fresh again.

Their eyes were locked, the magnetism between them was tangible, and it was hard to see anything else in the room.

Until, out of the corner of Rebecca’s eye, she spotted a shimmer. It was quick, and had it happened seconds earlier, she would have had her eyes closed mid-kiss and missed it. The way the lighting of the room passed through those translucent wings had always been memorable.

Rebecca’s heart sank. This was not like seeing a girl with black hair like Agnes, or a flash of a slender, pale hand akin to Agnes’s complexion, or even hearing a voice that was reminiscent of Agnes. How could she second guess seeing Agnes’s wings? Explaining them to people, she could never get them to see what she saw in the girl with the insectoid appendages, but the wings only ever made Agnes more hauntingly beautiful to her.

The color flushed from Rebecca’s face, and Nessa could clearly feel the change in mood between them. ”Becks, is… everything okay?” she asked genuinely, before laughing weakly and trying to lighten the mood. ”I was under the impression I was actually a pretty good kisser.”

Rebecca barely heard her date. It was like her senses were muddled, now; why would she need to hear when Agnes was out of earshot? ”Huh?” she replied absentmindedly. She looked back at Nessa, but she could feel her eyes trying to drag themselves over the brunette’s shoulder to get a better look at the winged woman at the bar. ”Oh. Nae, it was fine—guid. It was… really guid,” she added, though her tone lacked conviction.

Before Nessa could ask what was going on, Rebecca was already standing from her seat. ”Ah’m sorry, but Ah’ll be reit back… Ah… there’s an auld friend Ah huvnae seen in a while, an’ Ah’ve been needin’ tae… talk to ‘er abit somethin’ important.” She was speaking like a woman in a trance, but before Nessa could object, Rebecca was already walking away from the table and toward the bar.

The walk gave her a moment to look Agnes over. The years had been kind, but the dress she was wearing was kinder. Rebecca was no slouch either, of course; her black dress ended midway up her thigh, working with her heels to exposing plenty of leg, and the halter style of the dress was cut low and revealed her freckled shoulders and back. It was her favorite dress, highlighting most of her best qualities when she was looking to impress. If Agnes was going to return to her life, it was a small blessing that Rebecca was at least appropriately dressed.

Agnes was looking off to her right, her eyes seemingly on her phone, allowing Rebecca to quietly slip onto the seat to her left. She took a deep breath, steeling her nerve. ”An’ haur Ah was finally believin’ ye hud left New York fur good.”

This would be good. This would be exactly what the two of them needed, a night without any drama. When they had first come to New York, River was excited as she had never been to the Big Apple before. Her eyes were filled with the stars of what she had only imagined all these years, of what she had only seen in photographs or movies before. That was one thing, but to see the towering skyscrapers in person? To feel the pulse of the city just walking down the street to get some Chinese food? That was a whole other experience. At first it was actually quite blissful, but as their money ran low, as Agnes became the only steady source of income, the hopeful glaze over River’s eyes began to clearly chip.

Agnes had never once tried to make River feel like she was not pulling her own weight. As a matter of fact, Agnes knew exactly what it was like coming from absolute nothing. She knew how things could be the absolute worst, especially when a good portion of Agnes’ youth was spent living in alleyways and dumpsters. She had first hand knowledge of that lifestyle. And though Agnes was determined to never return to it, it seemed as if River had made it her personal mission to never allow that to happen either. Sadly, she was taking the mission a bit hard every week she didn’t have a steady paycheck. Freelancing was a hard lifestyle which is why it is saved for the super young.

This would help, though. It wouldn’t fix all their problems, clearly, not that she was expecting a cheap wine date to make River feel like a contributing partner again, but she wanted to help alleviate some of the pressure. A night out, some drinks, and then a nice long walk back home to their apartment would do them both a lot of good. River needed a night out to forget her troubles and Agnes needed to see her smile again. Already they were off to a good start! It was just a text and a simple emoji but already Agnes could feel the stress reducing. She only hoped that the good feelings would continue to flow.

Agnes was oblivious to the world around her, instead enraptured by the phone that she held in her pale, delicate hand. Idly she had attempted to slip into a game of chess before she gave up and set her phone back into her clutch. With that she lifted her gaze to the rest of the bar.

So far everything looked pretty nondescript. Everyone was minding their own business, having a grand time just drinking and sharing stories or flirtatious glances. She was happy that no one had approached her yet. Maybe she could finally make it to being joined by her fiancée without someone pouncing on her. Her hand resting over the other (and hiding the obvious sign of her commitment to River), Agnes turned back to the bar to pick up her drink when a voice spoke from behind her.

>> ”An’ haur Ah was finally believin’ ye hud left New York fur good.”

There was no need to even pause to breathe. Agnes knew exactly who that thick-accented voice belonged to. The last time she had heard it was when the two of them had parted, promising to stay in contact despite the distance between them. Agnes tried, she really had tried, but hearing that voice just caused all her emotions to flood back into her cheeks. She could see her, clearly in her mind’s eye, the young woman with red hair, green eyes, and the freckly nose that she couldn’t help but kiss every time they woke up in bed together.

This was torture.

She didn’t turn around right away. Instead it was clear from her shoulders that she had stiffened. Her wings, pressed against her back, fluttered nervously for half a moment (a habit she had never been able to break) before resting again. A gulp and with a held breath, she turned around in her stool. Eyes drifted passed the rows of wine bottles on the shelves behind the bartender. The mirrored wall reflected everything that was just out of her line of sight. But when she had fully turned, it was as if she had never looked upon this woman for the first time, all over again.

Her dress was amazing. Rebecca always knew how to dress in order to fully gain Agnes’ attention, though she would have just fine in a fuzzy sweater and jeans. The dress did nothing else but accentuate the young woman’s already inherit beauty. Her eyes looked across her face, finding those same freckles, maybe a few more thanks to the passage of time and moments spent a little too much in the sun. The hair was just as red, cascading down her face in twinkly waves of fire. And those eyes, oh how she remembered those soul, crisp green eyes. She gulped.

“Oh…my god…” she started to say. Her hand raised to cover her mouth in surprise. However, she didn’t screech in fear or run away in terror, instead her eyes welled up as she lowered her hand over her chest and smiled in soft manner that could either be interpreted as sad or happy. ”Rebecca. My…god…wow…”. She really didn’t know what else to say. As much as she wanted to having to witting remark, absolutely nothing was coming to her. Instead she just blinked in surprise as she looked Rebecca over. ”Just…wow…”

She used to call her Becca…a fact that had apparently been lost in the passing years.

There was no quick reply. If she had not been so focused in on Agnes, she would have missed the stiffening of her shoulders and the nervous flutter of her wings. If there was still music playing, Rebecca was immune to it; her ears could only care to listen for a familiar, almost forgotten voice.

She knew Agnes was not expecting this, and in truth, it was the very last thing Rebecca expected from the evening. That was not an exaggeration: she had prepared for the possibility of bailing on her date to stop any manner of giant mutant monster, and tucked away in her head, there was a standard contingency plan she had once come up with if she ever found herself on a date with a stalker, murderer, Nazi, or vegetarian.

There was no contingency plan for the ex. Rebecca was sure Agnes had disappeared, so why would she turn up on a date? On Rebecca’s first date. Her first step to finding love again. The universe was unkind, and this moment was all the evidence she needed.

Agnes eventually turned to face her, and Rebecca involuntarily felt herself inhale sharply. She had spent her walk over to the bar mentally preparing to face Agnes, but she had forgotten what it was like to look the woman in the eyes. Brilliant, piercing blue eyes that could look into the deepest part of her. Rebecca had no defense against them then, and she had found no defense over two years apart.

Rebecca had run through this meeting in her head a million times before that night. She had a hundred ways to greet her, a thousand replies to a hundred possible responses, and all the words she knew, in any scenario, she had to say to the woman who disappeared from her life.

Only now they were there, and it was all too real, and every hypothetical felt miles away. How did she fool herself into thinking she could prepare for this? She sat, frozen in fear, waiting for Agnes to say something.

Both women were evidently at a loss for words. Nine words, six unique words, in a voice that shook her to her core, with a smile that made her heart ache. Agnes seemed stunned, which was fair. Rebecca was stunned as well, hearing her name off Agnes’s lips.

Her proper name. Rebecca was sure she forgot what it sounded like on Agnes’s tongue. She was Becca. Always Becca, ever since before college, and even after they broke up. She could feel an immediate sting in her eyes, but she had to stay strong. ”Wow,” she parroted, a small crack in her voice as she repeated the word. ”Ay aw th' words Ah coods hae expected efter ower a year ay silence, Ah guess 'at one is fittin', Aggie.” She had not forgotten Agnes’s name—her only name in her eyes, though the tone it was spoken with lacked any of the affection it once knew.

Of all the scenarios that Agnes could have conceived, this was by far the least likely. Despite how it looked on a map, New York City was quite a large place. On top of that, the last time that she had seen the beautiful redhead it was several years ago when she had watched her get onto a plane and fly out of her life. They had promised that they would try to keep in touch, but alas it was a promise that neither of them would have been able to keep. Even then, the image of those mismatched eyes, the fiery hair, and the freckled nose stayed with her as the days, weeks, months, and years pressed on, until she was little more than a shade in the back of her mind.

Without meaning to, Agnes had turned the visage of Rebecca Grey into a specter for a cautionary tale about first loves; a reminder that your first real relationship was not always meant to be. However, now, sitting in this wine bar, having fully moved on from the thicked-accented lass, she was finding that the ghost that haunted the back of her mind had attained flesh and blood before her eyes. Rebecca Grey was here, in front of her, and she could hardly believe it.

There was little that Agnes could say other than a series of stammers and repeating “Wow” over and over again. It was as if her mind had just twisted itself into the most complicated knots imaginable. She tried to find the right words from her expanded education and well-reading, but sadly only the most desperate of terms was popping up into her head. With little to no filter, all she could do was utter the same thing repeatedly, until, finally, she forced herself to stop. She was making herself sound like a fool.

Thankfully it seemed that the shock wasn’t just on her; Rebecca herself seemed to be at a loss for words as well. Her ex-girlfriend, repeated her word of choice (though only once) but managed to move one to a slightly more coherent sentence. Even though several years had passed since she had heard her thick Scottish accent, it was simple enough to adjust her listening to pick up on exactly what Rebecca was saying to her. Sadly it was not exactly what the violinist was expecting to hear.

She felt a small wave of shame wash over her features. Rebecca was quick to point out that the word was fitting, especially considering the years that had gone by. Maybe it was not meant to be taken harshly, but Agnes was quick to feel bad. Between the two of them, it probably was her that had started the radio silence, but it wasn’t as if she had done it on purpose (or by herself). Working with the traveling symphony, bouncing around from state to state, it was hard to be pinned down long enough to get mail, and as time passed, even harder for her to remember to contact the redhead.

She felt her chest buzz a little (not thanks to her mutation, but due to nervousness) as small, sad-sort-of smile pulled at the corners of her pink-painted lips. Her gaze swept over the young woman again, admitting that the years had only been kinder and kinder to Scot. A flash of a moment slipped through her mind as she considered what might have been, but it quickly vanished as she felt the cool metal of the ring on her unconsciously hidden hand pull her back to reality.

With a sigh she sipped her wine and just shook her head. ”It really is unbelievable,” she breathed with a calming sigh. ”I…honestly didn’t think you were back in the states. I’ve only recently come back to New York, like, three months ago.” There, that was a good start. ”You look amazing…truly.” A sweet smile was shared but that was all she had. Where would this conversation even go next?

This was harder than Rebecca always pictured it in her head, which was a feat because she expected her reunion with Agnes would have been a train wreck, (which was of course assuming she even expected it to happen.) After Rebecca came to the realization that Agnes was not going to reply to her again, she found it hard not to harbor resentment toward her ex-girlfriend. Life got busy, but was she not worth the occasional glance at an email inbox? Even if it was just as a friend, Rebecca wanted to be part of Agnes’s life, and it felt like she had been torn from a place she always thought she would belong. Agnes did not deem her necessary in her life anymore, and that felt worth being angry about.

Or it did. Finding herself face to face with Agnes, the reserves of anger she had been pulling from for over a year were coming up empty. She found herself reflecting back on what happened. When she originally left, they would exchange mail and emails frequently.

Then Agnes started traveling, so mail was no longer an option, but they still emailed when they could. Eventually Agnes stopped replying, which Rebecca never forgave, but now she wondered if she was remembering what happened selectively. Before the emails stopped, they were steadily growing less frequent. That was not just Agnes’s fault; Rebecca was swamped in her work for what felt like weeks at a time. She was constantly online, but she could be flakey with checking her emails until she felt the urge to talk to Agnes again. Agnes was never the tech type, really; maybe the longer she went without hearing from Rebecca, the less she thought about her email until one day, she just stopped checking it all together.

Maybe that was what happened? Rebecca took for granted Agnes would reply whenever she drifted back into her life with a reply? It was hard not to consider it when she was looking into Agnes’s eyes. How could the person behind those deep, blue eyes have chosen to leave her behind? She would never. Rebecca’s anger and resentment were exchanged for shame; she spent so long blaming Agnes, she never accepted her blame in the drift between them.

Rebecca’s face softened, the cold stone look crumbling to a warm smile. Instead of venting all her frustration for how the last years passed, it would be enough to appreciate that she was getting a second chance to reconnect with a friend she thought she lost. ”Aggie…” she started, before sighing and shaking her head. ”Ye look… yoo’ve ne’er stopped lookin’ amazin’.” Agnes was a timeless, ageless beauty, and Rebecca could not picture that ever changing.

They had both returned to the state in recent months, which felt promising. This was not some layover on a trip to a new location; Agnes was going to be there. This felt like it had the makings of a real chance to get back into one another’s lives, and she would just have to see where things went from there. All she knew was, it felt right hearing Agnes’s voice again. ”Ah’ve been back a few weeks. Ah’m at th’ Mansion teachin’ actually.”

Rebecca reached a slender, freckled hand out and gave Agnes’s shoulder a light squeeze of affirmation. ”It really is guid tae see ye again. Whit ur ye daein’ noo at yoo’re back in New York?” It was hard to imagine Agnes ever giving up her career as a violinist, so she must have been playing somewhere in the city.

Agnes felt like she was sweating internally. Was that even a thing? Was it possible to perspire under her skin? Was that a sign that she was dying? Agnes wished that she knew what was going on or how to think at this moment, but her clear thought patterns were coming in ebbing and flowing waves. Where one second she could come up with coherent sentences, the next she was finding herself unable to even remember how to pronounce her own name correctly. What was she expected to do with all that? The very thought of it made her sigh a bit in frustration – she was better than this.

Sitting across from her long lost girlfriend, Agnes found herself recounting the last few years. She had been so busy, living as a freelance and then traveling with the symphony, that the usual forms of contact she would have with the Scot were lost to her. It wasn’t so much that she was ignoring Rebecca, it was that life itself got in the way and pulled her attention elsewhere. How could she think of checking her email when she was struggling to find her next gig as a freelance violinist? Was it possible to remember Rebecca’s email address when she was on her third week of month long road show with her symphony? Sadly, time and life edged out over Agnes’ memories of her ex-girlfriend.

She could still remember the day that she realized she had forgotten about her ex. It was after a particularly long string of shows traveling the west coast when she had absentmindedly pull out her phone. She was exhausted, frustrated, and just wanted someone to vent to when she had suddenly remembered Rebecca. She cursed herself for forgetting to send her a message in, what, it was a month by then, and attempted to log into her email. Sadly, as it turned out, her Z-Mail App (’Mail at the Speed of Zzzzz!’ or whatever that meant) had been discontinued. Rebecca’s address lost to her, Agnes had given up at that point and just moved on, figuring the Rebecca was probably living it up at school.

She probably should have felt more guilty about all this. It was impossible for her to get mad since she had been the one to not save Rebecca’s email, and while she could have pointed out that Rebecca herself had been lacking in the consistent mailing department, the truth was that she didn’t feel one hundred percent guilty anymore. They were broken up and they were separated by an ocean; maybe it was just meant to happen. People drift apart all the time, people who live in the same state. What chance did they have?

Still, watching the redhead’s expression shift from a hardened to a most sweet look made the young insect queen smile just a little bit. It really was good seeing her, knowing fully that she was okay and doing well. The dress she wore wasn’t cheap (at least from what she was able to tell) and she was in a fairly well-known wine bar. She guessed that her ex had found her place in the world and was doing fairly well.

A blush colored her cheeks when Rebecca had announced that she had never stopped looking amazing, a compliment reflected from the same one Agnes had just uttered. Of the two, Rebecca had always been the more bold and knew what to say to make her smile. In that instant she was drawn back to her teen years, sharing a room with Rebecca at the Xavier institute, honing their abilities and exploring the new avenues of affection they had for one another. It was a great time and a beautiful memory – but it was just a memory.

Agnes explained that she had only returned to New York a few months ago and according to Rebecca she was doing the same (kismet?). Her eyebrows raised at the notion that Rebecca was actually teaching there and she had to nod her head appreciatively. “That’s amazing, Becca. Perfect for you.” the old pet name she had for her ex just rolled off her tongue as if it had never left. It didn’t even make the violinist pause. She was too busy framing her answer when her ex had asked why she herself was back in New York. ”Oh, it’s exicting,” she beamed, smiling when she felt the small squeeze on her shoulder. It was a familiar feeling and one that momentarily made her forget why she was in this bar to begin with. ”I auditioned for principal second violin at the Philharmonic here and I got it. Moved back a few months ago and have been playing in the orchestra.” She shrugged, holding her wine to her chest in a mock position of snootiness. ”You could say I’m the most famous person you know whose wrists MAY have appeared on a televised event.” but she couldn’t say this with a straight face and giggled. This was nice.

Kismet. It was one of Rebecca’s favorite words—destiny. Fate. A moment that was unavoidable and inevitable. They both drifted away from New York, and now they drifted back within months of one another. Did that mean something? The world was a big place, and so was New York for that matter. What were the odds they would both be in the same small piano bar on the same night? Rebecca was having a hard time even remembering why she was at the place to begin with; maybe she was there because it was where she was supposed to be.

How did they ever drift away? How was she ever upset with Agnes? Talking with the former love of her life came so naturally. Rebecca was still trying to figure out what she was doing as a teacher, and if it was even a role she should be settling into, but Agnes’s reassurance filled her to the brim with confidence. She was the one person in the world who could make her feel like she was limitless, and at a point in her life when she was feeling like a jack of all trades, master of none, she missed the girl who could, with one smile, make her feel like she could do everything.

More than the boost she got from Agnes, she missed being able to celebrate victories together. Hearing “New York Philharmonic” was enough to get Rebecca covering her mouth with her hands in excitement. It was Agnes’s dream. It always had been, and now she was there. It was everything Rebecca could do to restrain herself from throwing her arms around those slender shoulders and pull her into a long congratulatory kiss.

Instead, she flashed a toothy grin she simply could not contain. ”They're daft. Only second fiddle? True genius goes underappreciated.” She giggled, suddenly finding herself hilarious. ”Serioosly, Aggie, Ah cooldnae be mair prood ay ye. Ah always knew yoo'd end up thaur.” And she did; Agnes was always driven and talented, and when she would talk about being up on that stage one day, Rebecca could picture it, not as a dream, but as a vision of the future.

Rebecca looked down, realizing her hand had found its way to Agnes’s knee. Of course it did, that’s where it was supposed to be when she was throwing all her support behind her favorite musician.

Rebecca laughed weakly as she slowly pulled her hand away. ”Sorry, muscle memory.” Time and distance did not erase the memories her muscles carried when it came to Agnes.

Looking to change the focus of the conversation, and hopefully open the door for future conversations, she spotted the cell phone in front of Agnes on the bar. ”We hae a lot tae catch up oan these days. If ye hud, ah dunnae knae, mah number,” she ‘subtly’ hinted, gesturing to the phone with a nod of her head, ”Hink 'at micht be easier?”

It felt nice. Agnes had to admit that while she was initially terrified of what was going to happen the second she turned to look at her ex-girlfriend, the fact was that things started to feel comfortable all over again. Though years had passed since they had seen one another, looking into her mismatched eyes, it was almost as if she had never left. Seeing the warm look on the Scot’s face warmed the pit of Agnes’ stomach, like after having some nice warm stew on a freezing cold day. It was comforting, it was home, and it was also inappropriate but she couldn’t quite place why.

Her smile widened when she had told Rebecca her news that she had been accepted to play with the New York Philharmonic. It was always Agnes’ life-long dream to play with an orchestra and to have actually achieved that, after every shit thing that happened in her life, to be able to literally pull herself up from the gutter, was quite remarkable. Of course not everyone knew her back story as it wasn’t something that she generally spoke about. But Rebecca knew and Rebecca of course would know how much of an achievement Agnes had claimed for herself.

She had to giggle when the lovely Scot had commented that her new job was underappreciating her talents. She tilted her head, smiling a bit more flirtatiously than she ever thought it could be interpreted as. Her heart warmed when her ex admitted that she was proud of the success that she had claimed and that she always believed in her. It was true, when they were in college, Rebecca played the role as her personal cheerleader (and she wasn’t just talking about that one time they were visiting each other for the weekend and she came into the room to find Rebecca in nothing but a skimpy cheerleader outfit), and the young violinist had always appreciated it. Hearing those words again, that praise, carried with it a wave of warm feeling nostalgia that she could scarcely comprehend.

That was probably why the violinist didn’t immediately register the fact that Rebecca’s hand had found its way onto her knee. It was such an old gesture, an old feeling that she had steadily grown used to over the years, one that it felt all the more natural. Thankfully Rebecca caught herself, feeling as if the gesture was inappropriate as she apologized and pulled her hand back. In that span of time Agnes finally realized what her ex had done and a fierce blush colored her cheeks. She should have noticed that it was wrong and reacted accordingly; the ring on her still hidden hand was enough to sober her up.

Agnes nodded, sighing a bit to regain herself. ”Oh, um, yeah,” she said with a nod to Rebecca’s faux pas. ”It’s a little weird…I know…”

Sadly next would be the events that would ensure that Agnes had truly not grasped that any of this was wrong. In Rebecca’s attempt to shift the conversation, she had voiced that they should catch up at some point and figured it would be easier if she had actually had her number. Agnes, without realizing what that entailed, nodded as she slid her phone over to Rebecca for her to add her phone number to it.

”Oh! Yeah, that would be loads easier,” she smirked. It seemed that in that moment of trying to catch up, she had forgotten the particularly important fact that the background image of her phone contained one of the most important facts that she had been leaving out of this conversation, a fact that she hadn’t had the time to get to yet – she was in a relationship…with someone who was only about two minutes from the front door.

Rebecca was a little too forward with her hand, but could anyone blame her? When you sat back on a bike after years, your body and legs remember how to make you move forward, and when Rebecca sat next to Agnes, her body remembered how to get closer. It was natural.

Just because it was natural did not make it right, or at least not yet. It was crazy of her to think they would reunite and jump right back to where they were, but being this comfortable around one another was a promising start. The damage left behind by time and distance might have been less than she expected. In her mind, she always pictured the rift between them as permanent and insurmountable. Now it felt like a bridge she was excited to work her way across to get back home.

Agnes was not recoiling from her, and even took a shine to the idea of adding her once again to the address book in her phone, where she could return to being a press of the touchpad away. The device slid across the bar top and was already open to contacts page, so Rebecca went to work quickly adding her own number, labeling it with her name: “Becca.” She initially added a smiley face at the end of it before backspacing the addition out. Rebecca almost left it there and hit save, but grinned and added a heart emoticon afterward. Maybe she was being a little forward, but Agnes always liked her when she was bold.

”Thaur, noo ye can text me back an' Ah can be a proper bortha again aw th' time,” she joked, happy to be taking this step back into her ex-girlfriend’s life. The good vibes of the night were stronger than she had felt since her return to America—and maybe even years before that.

Until the good vibes turned cold and Rebecca felt a sinking pit in her stomach. When she was done adding herself to the contact list, she had instinctually backed out to the phone’s home screen. Behind a collection of icons for apps, there was a picture. Agnes was there, but so was another girl holding her close. Rebecca’s heart wanted to assume the benefit of the doubt that Agnes had obtained a new best friend during her time on the road, but the feeling of dread coming over her knew better.

”Oh,” she remarked weakly, the energy in her voice deflating. ”Ye hae a… girlfriend, ‘en…” The word cracked upon leaving her lips. It hurt to say or even think about. Agnes’s girlfriend. What could be worse than that?

Fiancée. Fiancée was worse. As Rebecca was handing the phone back to its owner, suddenly wanting no part in the screen harboring the evidence of what an idiot she was, Rebecca noticed the hand to which she was exchanging ownership. Sitting to her left, Agnes grabbed the phone with her left hand. ”Oh,” she said again, but this time she could feel the stinging sensation in her eyes.

Before she could think any more about what an idiot she was or how she could say anything that felt right in response to this new revelation, Agnes’s phone buzzed.

Sorry to keep you waiting, I'm just walking in.

Time had slowed down the second that her precious phone had left her possession. Agnes wasn’t one of those types obsessed with her phone, but she was fairly protective of it considering the amount of times that she lost them. Not only was it an expensive habit, but this one she not only had the longest, but had several intimate moments captured on it. It had one of the first pictures of her and River together. It had the texts they would send (both sweet and spicy) on long nights when they were away. It was a little traveling photo album of her and River’s relationship, one that she could turn to whenever she was feeling down or depressed.

However, the notion of all of that flew out the window when she had turned over her phone to her ex-girlfriend. Honestly there was no reason for her to feel guilty or weird about it, it wasn’t as if she was doing anything wrong. She had only handed over her phone so that Rebecca could add her number to it so that they could catch up. She wanted to catch up, to know more on how Rebecca was keeping herself busy as the years passed by them. There was nothing wrong with catching up with an old friend.

But as much as Agnes wanted to convince herself of her innocent, she felt her face heat up after Rebecca had slyly mentioned that she could be a bother to Agnes again. That was when she saw the look in her ex’s eye. The color drained from her already pale face as she tapped a button that lead her, inevitably, to the one thing that Agnes had yet to mention, her current relationship. As her phone was being handed back, on instinct Agnes reached out with her left hand to claim it, at the same time unveiling the rose gold ring with the tiny, singular diamond sitting atop it.

>> ”Oh…”

Rebecca didn’t need to say anymore than that. If the picture wasn’t telling enough, the ring sitting on her finger surely clarified the matter – Agnes was engaged. Out of habit she chewed on her lip guiltily, but only for a moment. Again, there was no reason to feel guilty, she had moved on with her life. She had met someone amazing and the two of them had a life together. Of course it was sad that it 3asn’t Rebecca, but it was almost another life ago. She sighed a bit sadly as she whispered an unheard ”Thank you” and retrieved her phone. She needed to think, to say something to hopefully…do something. She wasn’t even sure what she wanted to do now.

Things would only get more complicated.

Agnes moistened her lips, smiling a little sadly to her ex-girlfriend. She had raised her voice to try and say something, to explain that she was engaged but was interrupted when she saw the new, unread text on her phone: River was here. Looking up, Agnes turned in her seat just in time to see the full image of River Red Fish, her fiancée, as the young woman leaned in, her lips planted firmly upon Agnes’; she squeaked in surprise.

“Oh I’m sorry, hon!” she beamed proudly at the violinist. “I was trying to kisss the back of your head when you turned around. I didn’t bump into you too hard, did I?”

It was safe to say that River, well, was she was a knock out. Standing at around 5’10, taller than Agnes, the woman’s complexion was that of a smooth, perfect bronze shade. Her almond shaped eyes and her pouty lips gave her an exotic feature, one that was only supplemented by the smooth, raven-black hair that framed her face. Her eyes were confident, solid, and looked as if they could pierce the human soul if she squinted hard enough. Body wise, the woman was quite beautiful. She was clearly athletic and possessed a full, well-curved body, blessed both top and bottom with eye-catching features, features that were accentuated by the tight-fitting black dressed with the low-cut neckline, and raised hem that showed her shapely thighs. Her coat was curled over one arm, while with the other she held her clutch and phone, a phone which mirrored Agnes’ in that it too had a background picture of the two of them.

Agnes, stunned to see River (she didn’t know why) blinked out of her confusion as she realized that a question had been asked of her. She smiled sweetly at the Native American woman and shook her head to indicate that she was actually fine.

”I’m fine,” she smiled a bit sheepishly. ”Didn’t hurt me at all.”

Satisfied with this answer, River claimed the stool next to Agnes, placing her coat and clutch on it as she wrapped her arms around her fiancée’s neck and gave her another peck on the cheek. It was only then that she noticed the freckle-nosed redhead and tilted her gaze to her. River smiled sweetly towards the woman and nodded to her.

“Um…hi?”

”OH! Sorry!” Agnes said, suddenly, as if remembering the Scot was still there. She turned around and faced Rebecca. ”River, this is an old...friend of mine, Rebecca.” she said as he gestured to the redhead. She then turned and glanced to River. ”Rebecca, this is River Red Fish, also my…um…” For whatever reason the phrasing of fiancée just vanished from her mind. She snaped her fingers trying to remember but it was fruitless.

Luckily her lover was there to save the day. With a warm smile she reached over and held her hand out for Rebecca to shake. “I’m her fiancée.” She said proudly. “It’s nice to meet you…Reba, was it?”

Shell-shocked. Adjective. Confused, upset, or exhausted as a result of a highly stressful, disturbing, or traumatic and often unexpected event or experience. Maybe it was unfair of Rebecca to put Agnes’s fiancée on a level with wartime explosions, but the woman was a bombshell in every sense of the word.

There was no time to process the information that Agnes was engaged, because the moment Rebecca spotted the ring, the phone was already buzzing, and before she could try to make a quick exit to retain her dignity and her sanity, River had already reached the bar. The way she kissed Agnes was awkward and accidental and cute. It was the kind of silly, natural thing that happened with a couple who was comfortable enough not to be worried about looking silly and natural. It was the kind of love Rebecca and Agnes had once upon a time, and now she was watching Agnes share that with someone knew.

It hurt. It was selfish and stupid; they were broken up, and Rebecca had no reason to think Agnes would not move on with her life, especially when they stopped talking. She had no reason, and yet seeing Agnes and River, it was clear she was hoping anyway. She was petty and selfish and took for granted that Agnes would always be there in the end.

River had to bring the attention back to Rebecca, because Agnes could only see her fiancée. Agnes certainly fumbled her way through the introductions, snagging herself on her own words to call the Scott an old friend. We waur sae much mair, she wanted to shout, but it was not her place. It made sense; why make the meeting any more awkward by explaining something that could be mentioned in private.

Had River even heard about her? Agnes’s first love? Except she wasn’t. Jasmine was her first love. River was her bride-to-be. Rebecca? She was an old flame that flickered out, and maybe that was not even worth mentioning to the girl she was going to marry. Maybe she was a story in passing, with a name River failed to remember in the story of Agnes’s life.

Rebecca was not the only stumbling block, as Agnes struggled to find the word for River as well. Fiancée. She is yer fiancée. Th’ lass yoo're gonnae shaur th’ rest ay yer life wi’, she could feel herself screaming inside.

Thankfully River took the lead and extended her hand, finishing the introduction. If she had been told about Rebecca, she was not showing any signs. She could not even get her name right now, so it was clear she gave little thought to the freckled mess trying to hold it together in front of her. A petty part of Rebecca was upset River’s name was so easy, and she could not pretend to have misheard it as well. ”Rebecca,” she corrected politely, shaking the woman’s hand and doing what she could to keep her eyes from welling and her voice from cracking. ”It's braw tae meit ye. Yoo're a lucky lass.” Of course she was. Who would have let a woman like Agnes slip through their fingertips?

There was no way Rebecca could keep this up; maybe in a week or two, after coming to terms with all this information, she could see Agnes and River and handle it like an adult. She knew she had no right to be jealous, but everything felt so fresh, it was unavoidable. Rebecca needed to make a graceful exit. ”Ah’m sorry, Eh'd loch tae bide an' chat muir, but Ah’m...” What excuse could she give? Where could she make her hasty retreat to?

And then it hit her: why she was at the wine bar in the first place. ”Actually oan a date.” She turned to look back at the table she forgot about, thankful to see Nessa still there, watching them and trying (poorly) to act like she was not watching them. How stupid and unfair could Rebecca be to everyone in her life in one night? She had been having a great night with Nessa and suddenly, she was one step away from walking out of the bar having completely forgotten about the beautiful girl she brought to the bar.

It was guid seein' ye again, Ag...nes.” Rebecca caught herself. Suddenly, calling her Aggie felt dirty with River standing there. ”We shoods meit again sometime. It was a pleasure tae meit ye, River.” Both those statements were lies, but her voice held up and she kept a strong face.

Returning to her table, Rebecca’s hands were trembling. Nessa knew something was off before she made it into her seat. ”Are you okay? It was like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Rebecca took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart. It did feel like she was being haunted by a ghost from her past she thought was gone for good. ”Nae,” she answered honestly. ”Ah dornt hink Ah’m okay. Ah’m sae sorry, thes nicht was going—”

”Let’s get out of here.” Nessa was pulling bills out of her purse and leaving them on the table to cover for the drinks they had already enjoyed. Rebecca tried to question or protest her comment, but Nessa continued before she could speak. ”We can go for a walk or something. You can talk about it.”

”Nessa…”

Before another word could be said, Nessa was already out of her seat and kissing Rebecca’s freckled cheek. ”This night was going amazing before you got spooked. You probably can’t talk about this on your channel, so we’ll talk. ‘Sides, I’d like an excuse to give your cute Scottish ass a second chance.”

Rebecca was glad she was facing away from her ex and her new lover, because the tears were finally forming in her eyes. She smiled weakly and nodded, ”Okay, let’s gie it ay haur.” Hoping to salvage her night, she followed her stubborn date out of the bar and toward the nearest park where they could talk Rebecca through the pain of knowing her ex moved on, in hopes she could, too.

The look on Rebecca’s face stuck through Agnes’ heart like a dagger. This was not how she wanted to let her know this news. Did she ever want her to know this news? Before she had shown up in the wine bar, she had to admit that it was the furthest thing from her mind. While the Scot would always have a place in her heart, it was hard to plan for breaking such news to her when they hadn’t heard from one another in years. How could she have even planned for something like this? No, Agnes felt that her bewilderment and shock was justified; who else does something like this happen to other than herself?

She sighed as she felt River give her another hug from behind, the violinist’s eyes falling upon Rebecca as the her fiancée turned to greet the redhead. Agnes had introduced her as her friend – purposefully. Not because she was ashamed of Rebecca but she knew her fiancée and she didn’t want her to read too much into this. It was supposed to be a relaxing evening and she didn’t want to think about trying to explain this occurrence the rest of the night. River was usually pretty collective, but considering how things have been lately, she didn’t want to poke the beast. She would tell her, of course, but gradually. Thankfully her fear that Rebecca would correct her ex-girlfriend seemed unfounded.

There was a small and unheard sigh of relief as Rebecca said little more than to clarify her own name and praise River for being lucky. Agnes felt her heart quicker as she chewed on her lip and looked away to the bar top, her cheeks coloring in thanks to the compliment. However she started to feel bad again once her ex started to fumble about, making up an excuse that she needed to leave. Agnes was ready to voice her protest, wanting to explain to Rebecca or make some kind of amends (even though she really didn’t have to.), but she was ignored when Rebecca stood and admitted that she was here on a date.

Whaaaaaaat? For a reason unknown to her at the time, that bit of news actually stunned Agnes. She didn’t know why, looking back it made absolute sense. Rebecca and she had broken up some time ago, of course she was going to move on with her life, she always assumed she had. But thinking about these things was different than seeing them in action. Before she could say anymore, Rebecca was standing and admitted it was good to see her, even suggesting that they all meet up again sometime.

Agnes gulped as she stood up and nodded. ”O-Okay…” she said softly. She wanted to say something more, something to make the redhead feel better but was that even possible? She gave up trying to say anything else and instead just shared a sad little smile with the Scot and gave her a small wave as she walked away and sat with another woman…a very pretty woman. She eyed the two for a second until she felt a soft hand graze against her arm.

“Hun? Are you okay?” River’s voice asked, pulling the violinist’s attention back.

Still spooked by the encounter, Agnes nodded, hiding the shimmer of wetness at the corners of her eyes. She gave River a forced smile, but one that she was practiced at giving to make it seem genuine. She leaned over and kissed her fiancée on the cheek. ”I’m fine. Promise. Just…a bit tired, I guess. We haven’t been out this late in awhile.”

River eyed Agnes for a second before she snorted and nodded her head, claiming her seat next to her. “Oh, tell me about it. The cab ride over I started to fall asleep, haha.” She turned to the bartender to came by and ordered herself a glass of white wine. “You’re friend Regina seems nice.”

Agnes nodded absent-mindedly, pulling herself from her own thoughts of the redhead and that hurt expression on her face. Blinking, she gave River a bit if a distant look. ”Rebecca. Her name was…is…Rebecca.”