This was it. It was one of Agnes’ biggest nights. For the last month she and the entire orchestra have been rehearsing this this performance, this rendition of Brahms’ Violin Concerto in D major. It was supposed to be quite the performance and everything was buzzing with excitement, especially Agnes. However it was more than just the fact that she was going to participate in a large section of the performance, but also because there were two people in the audience who would be garnering her attention. River, of course, had made time to be there (though she did complain that she needed to dedicate more time to job hunting), but the other attendee would be one of special interest, if she decided to show, Rebecca Grey.

Her skin felt electrified as she sat in the dressing room in the back, calming herself with affirmations as she looked into the mirror. She was not going to fuck up, she was not going to fuck up. Agnes had been performing with the orchestra for the last couple months but this was going to be the first performance where there was going to be a sizeable focus on her own group and that, of course, meant stress. However, it wasn’t just that that was bothering, it was the fact that Rebecca would be there…possibly.

To be honest Agnes wasn’t even sure she should be stressing out this much about everything. After the last meeting that she had with her ex-girlfriend, things didn’t go as well as she would have liked. As a matter of fact, they were so fucking screwed up that for the last week she has been having trouble keeping her own head on straight. She was moody, clumsy, and spacey, even to the point that River herself was taking notice of the violinist usually calm demeanor. She inquired but, of course, Agnes said nothing on the matter – why should she?

Rebecca’s last words still haunted the insect queen. After her poisonous barb was thrown (and immediately regretted), she could still hear Rebecca’s voice through the door. She had accused her of giving up on her first. Was she right? Agnes agonized over this question. They were broken up but there was always the thought in the back of her mind that they would eventually find one another again. Even after losing contact, wasn’t it her duty to wait for the lovely redhead to come back?

Fuck that. Oh just thinking about it made Agnes angry all over again. What did Rebecca expect? She was gone overseas and they had broken up! What, was the Scot just expecting Agnes to wait as some chaste virgin on a widow’s peak, watching the ocean for her return? But before Agnes could get any further, she stopped, took a breath, and counted to three. This was ridiculous. After an argument like that, there was no way that Rebecca would set foot in her vicinity again. Just no way. Besides, she wasn’t performing for her; that honor belonged to River and River alone.

Giving herself another hard look in the vanity mirror, Agnes shared a soft smile with one of her fellow violinist as they stood up and wished her the best. She nodded, returning the favor, and returned to her own gaze. She had this…she knew she did.

---

There was a dull hum in the concert hall. People from all walks of life, dressed in their finest, murmured and spoke amongst themselves. The stage ahead of them shined with the glimmer of freshly polished, light colored wood, the black seats and stands laid out in precisely the order that they needed to be. At the moment no one was there on stage and the focus was surely on the lovely architecture of the room around them. It was crafted and designed solely to ensure that the music played inside these walls could be heard with crystal clarity to all in attendance. It was one of the last refuges for music and the soul in existence.

However, before long, the light flickered, a silent sign that the performance was getting ready to begin. People returned to their seats, ended their conversations, and prepared themselves for a show about to begin. One of these individuals, a raven-haired woman of Sioux descent had already claimed her seat. She was dressed to the nights in an elegant dress of the deepest navy blue, her hair done up and her make-up set to perfection. However her eyes were not on the stage as the players began to walk on amid respectable applause, her nose was buried in the glow of her phone as she swiped through the latest job openings.

On the stage the players all began to file out from the back, taking their seats. There was a common thing amongst all their attire, the men dressed in black slacks and button-up shirts in the same hues, and the women wore complimentary black dresses with sequin sewn into the skirt. One of these individuals was Agnes herself, one of the first mutants to ever be publically hired by the orchestra. She wore a dress similar to the others, midnight black with a skirt that sparkled with sequin reminiscent of diamonds. Her hair was up, curled into a style that made her hair appear shorter than it actually was. Her pale skin, in contrast to her dress, made the young woman with the insect wings pressed to her back appear to glow with purity; she was certainly a vision.

Taking her seat in the string section, at the head of her group of violinist, Agnes took a steading breath, picking up her violin and bow, and setting in upon her lap as the rest of her players did. The conductor, a short but powerful man, marched onto the stage amid the applause of both players and the audience. Taking his place at the podium, the man took a breath, bowing to the audience and then turned. It was time for the show to begin, but even as it started to get underway, as Agnes tucked her violin under her chin, her eyes swept out over the crowd, cautiously looking for a face that she both wanted and didn’t want to be there.

A lot of time had been spent over the week staring at the ticket sitting atop Rebecca’s coffee table. She bought the ticket originally with the intent of bridging the awkward divide between them since they returned to New York and crossed paths. Rebecca always thought Agnes was at her happiest when she was performing, and she loved watching the musician in her element so she could share those moments as a supportive spectator. Even as her friend, she could still be that.

After their last meeting in Rebecca’s apartment, though, she wondered if it was even wise to attend. The girls shared in a moment of weakness, and the mood between them spoiled once they came out of their tipsy daze. Agnes got upset with her for putting her in a compromising position (again) and Rebecca got upset at Agnes for not taking enough ownership of what happened that night, with Jasmine, and even when she left.

Rebecca was unsure if Agnes would even want her coming to the performance anyway, with how tense things had been. She was unsure how that was even possible with neither woman trying to reach out and say much of anything. Somehow a silent phone and an omnipresent ticket could wedge their way into Rebecca’s head and make her a walking mess. She was forgetting her keys, accidentally trapping Domino in closed rooms until he whined, and keeping her eyes on her phone screen, pretending to herself that she was paying attention to whatever article she was scrolling through.

In the end, she knew she should make an effort to be an adult. Despite what happened, she was not ready to give up on Agnes being a part of her life, and she had to prove that somehow. If she skipped out on the performance, that would tell Agnes she was not ready to try this again, and rifts like that would only grow larger with time. Picking out a dark violet floor length dress and some silver jewelry to accessorize, she took the time to pull her hair up in a bun and do her make up tastefully, preparing for her night out with New York’s sophisticated art crowd.

Entering into the auditorium, Rebecca was impressed by how far Agnes had come. The stage at Juliard was impressive, but it was a stage for students and the occasional guests to showcase their talents. The size and scope of the space and the ornate architecture of the interior reminded her that she was in a place where music was the one true religion, and everyone would come from the corners of the map to worship.

Looking to take her seat, Rebecca examined her ticket closely and, with the help of an usher, found her way to the right row. She mentally counted off seats as she shimmied inward, until she reached the number corresponding to her ticket, right next to another woman around her age. Sitting down to claim her spot and rest her heel-adorned feet, she turned to the side, ready to apologize in case her dress brushed the music lover. ”Sorry, if—”

Rebecca froze for a moment, silently cursing fate in her mind, because she should have known it would be her fortune to be positioned right next to River Red Fish, the fiancée of her former lover. It was mildly surprising to see the woman there, given the venting Agnes did at the apartment, but she certainly had every right to support her betrothed, even if she seemed more focused on the screen of her phone while they waited for the performance.

Realizing that a full few seconds had passed since she initially spoke, Rebecca exclaimed, ”Och! River, fancy seein' ye haur. It's Rebecca,” she reintroduced with a forced smile, remembering the other woman’s tendency to forget her name. Of course, depending on what she knew now, that name might be stuck more vividly in her head.

A frightening thought emerged: what had Agnes told River? Was Rebecca at risk of getting slapped in the aisles of a performing arts center? If necessary, she’d take it, knowing she would not have the moral high ground to retaliate, but the redhead was crossing her fingers that the violinist decided the kiss was not worth mentioning.

Glancing up at the stage, performers were shuffling out to their seats to begin their own preparations for the concert. There were plenty of bodies, including several attractive young women, but Rebecca’s eyes could pick Agnes out of any crowd. She shimmered in the lights, easily the most beautiful thing in the building.

Rebecca would make it through the night. This had to be step one. She would be civil with River, enjoy Agnes’s performance, congratulate her as a friend, and make it back to the apartment to reward herself with a bottle of wine.

Despite all the discomforts that the violinist could feel settling into her stomach, it was good to know that right here, right now, she was in her element. As she stepped out onto the stage with her group, a soft and demure smile upon her pink lips, Agnes felt more at home than she ever believed she could feel. Back when she was living on the streets, even when she found a home in the X-Mansion, the young woman had never liked the spotlight. She hated being the center of conversations and, whenever she was in a crowd, absolutely despised when people began to talk to her in front of everyone. It was purely a self-defense mechanism, something left over as a result of the child abuse that she had suffered due to her parents. But right now, with the lights on her and an auditorium filled with people, Agnes felt comfortable.

She didn’t glance in the direction of the audience just yet. Instead she stayed ignorant of their presence, despite their applause making her heart race faster. She found her seat quickly enough, slipping into it and lifting her violin in preparation for the beginning of the show. It was here that she found a moment to peak, to glance in the audience’s direction under the guise of brushing a few long strands of hair from her crystalline eyes.

The crowd looked good. As a matter of fact, every seat seemed to be packed. That was good to know that the news of this engagement had managed to generate enough of a buzz in the public eye for them to come and sample the music being performed today. Of course it was the usual type of person that Agnes was used to seeing at these things: older generations, people with money, those who saved all year just so they could go to one of these shows, her fiancée sitting next to her ex, and an usher or two wandering through the ais…wait…

Agnes blinked and quickly swept her gaze back. Her pulse started to race but it wasn’t because of the adrenaline of performing, it was because of what she saw – River was there (as expected) and sitting next to her was the same redheaded Scot that she had mistakenly kissed while spurred on by alcohol and hurt feelings. Over and over in her mind she could hear her own protests, here own cursing and displeasure at this. Was it planned? Did Rebecca plan this? Maybe River? Or was it just another sick joke of the cosmos? Ugh, either way the young insect queen felt like she wanted to throw up all over the stage. This was maddening.

Of course Agnes had not told River anything about what happened that night. What was the point in it? While she was an advocate for honesty and trying to keep the lines of communication open (mistakes with Rebecca had proven that doing otherwise was folly), this was something that, deep down, she didn’t feel a need to express. After all, after that meeting, she again didn’t think she would be running into Rebecca any time soon; though it is rather telling that she never deleted her contact information from her phone. Ahem.

Agnes found herself staring at the pair of them for far longer than she probably should have. River seemed rather busied with her phone and Rebecca looked to be introducing herself to her; neither of them had noticed that she was staring. With a grumble on her lips, muttering so many variations of “no” and “god please kill me now”, Agnes was startled briefly when she heard the small tap of the conductor’s baton. Blinking and returning to what she was supposed to be keeping her mind on, Agnes took a steadying breath.

God, she breathed. You’re an asshole. After her sacreligious thought, Agnes slipped back into the mindset of a musician and lost herself as the music started to play. Of course, no amount of music was going to quell the voice buried in the depths of her mind; a voice that had a very discernable Scottish accent.

---

In the audience, the fiancée of one of the head violinists on stage, River Red Fish, had her nose buried in her phone as she bounced back and forth between emails, job search websites, and various notes that she had been taking with one of the many apps on her phone. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to support her lover but with everything that had been happening lately, her inability to get a full-time job, her constant gloomy mood, River was desperate to do something that was productive. Not that she didn’t think listening to her fiancée on stage was productive, it was just that, well, she could be auditioning or preparing for her next freelance gig tomorrow. Of course she said none of this to Agnes (more than once) and conceded that she would attend this performance.

River sighed as she deleted another rejection email from her list and started to slip into the spam folders to see if anything had managed to get passed her. Sadly that was clearly little more than a desperate attempt at kidding herself. As much as she wanted to convince herself that some big job offer was waiting for her, even she wasn’t deluded enough to believe it. But, there was one thing that was substantial in her inbox. It wasn’t a job offer from a prestigious group in New York – but an old email from a friend in the Traveling Orchestra…and a promise that if she ever needed help to just let them know.

Weakly she stared at that email, chewing on her painted bottom lip, ignoring the fact that someone to creeping closer and closer down the aisle to claim the empty seat next to her. When they finally flopped into their seat, she didn’t even notice the obnoxiousness of the dress hem flapping like an injured bird against her bare leg – she was too absorbed in the blank email she was getting the nerve to compose…

>> ”Och! River, fancy seein' ye haur. It's Rebecca,”

”Hrm?” she barely acknowledged the voice but when she felt eyes upon her, River looked up and into the freckly face of the individual that had introduced herself to her. She stared blankly at the person for a few seconds before a vague recognition began to set in. She had seen her before – but where? As the clock ticked it finally dawned her. ”Oh, hi,” she said with a small smile. ”You’re Agnes school friend, right? Rhianna? From the wine bar? Nice to see you again.” She nodded. ”Did Agnes invite you here too?”

Rebecca wanted to make an effort to like River, because it would be the right thing to do if she wanted Agnes in her life as a friend. If the woman would eventually be her ex’s wife, it would be near impossible to avoid her forever—not without making Agnes feel like she was sneaking around to see Rebecca. It was already abundantly clear that feeling did not sit well with the insect queen, so civility was the next logical solution.

River, to her credit, was unintentionally making it difficult to like her when she could not be bothered to commit the basest amount of mind space to store Rebecca’s name and who she was. Hell, Rebecca literally reintroduced herself, but the woman was too absorbed in her phone to notice.

It took River a second to piece together who Rebecca was, and she waited, almost stunned. She was not going to toot her own horn and claim she was some unique beauty, but she was at least pretty distinct! Freckles all over, red hair, freaking heterochromia, and yet, it took full seconds for her to earn an incorrect name. Rebecca chose not to correct her, skimming over the misstep to move on with their chit chat.

Asked if Agnes invited her to the performance, it was becoming clear the last encounter between the ex-lovers was kept quiet, which was a sigh of relief. (Though if Agnes had said something, maybe then River would have found it worth remembering her damn name.) ”Nae, actually. Ah huvnae gotten tae see 'er play in a while sae Ah booght a tickit. Ah e'en got tae surprise 'er wi' th' bark when she drapped by mah apartment.” Rebecca was not going to mention anything else that happened when Agnes visited, but letting River know she surprised her old friend by getting tickets to her show seemed harmless enough.

Before anything else could be said, the lights throughout the room dimmed. ”Oh, we’re starting,” she muttered, turning her attention to the stage. It was probably for the best; the longer Rebecca spoke, the more likely she might let slip something that could be a problem for Agnes later. Now assumingly saved from misspeaking, she could watch as the program was introduced, and she could focus on the beautiful… her friend on stage as she brought a bow to her violin.


It was a standing ovation, and despite her average height, Rebecca was making an effort to stand the tallest. The whole concert was lovely, with the greatest focus being placed squarely on the violins. She was not able to pick out Agnes, but that was the point. The whole orchestra melded so beautifully, and Agnes belonged up there with people she was in sync with; she had found her place, and she was a melody that belonged in the larger whole, making it better.

”'At was stoatin!” she exclaimed enthusiastically to the woman sitting beside her. It was the first time since the intermission that Rebecca registered River’s presence. It was not that she was trying to be rude; she was just enamored with the beauty of the music.

Though now that the show was over, Rebecca did have a well-meaning question for River. ”Ur ye gonnae meit up wi' Aggie?” It was not absurd to assume River would go to her fiancée’s side now that she was done, and Rebecca was not versed in where she might go stand and wait to greet the returning musician. ”Woods ye... actually min' if Ah tagged alang jist tae say hi an' congratulate 'er?” She looked hopeful, ready to lead where River might follow… if she approved, of course.

Despite the nuisances and the aggravations of the world around here, Agnes Nicholas knew that there was always one thing that she could count on – music. Even when she suffered cruelty at the hands of her parents, music had been the one factor in her life that was able to make a difference. It pulled her from the darkest depths that life had shoved her into and brought her once again into the light. It allowed her to lift out of her body and become part of a universal language, a speech, a tone, something that only the gods and a select few could hear. It was a beautiful and defining experience for the young violinist and one which she would return to time and again.

On stage with the rest of her company, Agnes played in perfect time with everyone, leading her small section of violinists with the perfection and mastery that one wouldn’t expect for someone of her age. However for as surprising as Agnes was, especially since she was a mutant, none of those quibbles mattered right now as all eyes were focused on the stage as a whole and the music that was being produced. It didn’t matter that they saw a glimmer of iridescent wings catching the light from above, nor that in the audience, said violinist was getting a particularly hard looking from a raven-haired beauty, like Agnes, all that mattered to anyone was the music.

Agnes pushed all thoughts of River, Rebecca, and anything else that was bothering her from her mind. The only thing that truly mattered right now was the pull of the bow between her fingers, and the vibration of the stringed instrument that sat nestled under her chin. This was her perfect sphere, the place where nothing could touch her, where, for just a little while, she could be free of all those problems and annoyances that liked to haunt her. And so Agnes allowed herself to get lost in the music that swirled all about her and just enjoy the peace and tranquility that encapsulated her mind.

---

>> ”Nae, actually. Ah huvnae gotten tae see 'er play in a while sae Ah booght a tickit. Ah e'en got tae surprise 'er wi' th' bark when she drapped by mah apartment.”[/color]

River continued to stare blankly at the Scottish girl. If the redhead had not been interrupted by the dimming of lights, she would have turned to see a very perplexed River Red Fish looking at her squarely and in a confused manner. It was clear from her expression that River had no idea what the other was talking about. At first she began to wonder, to make the sentence make sense. Was Rebecca talking about an even from before she ever met the violinist? Maybe she confusing people? Or maybe she was telling the truth and River had something to worry about? That last one, unfortunately, was prodding at her a little harder than the rest of the thoughts she tried to make sense of. What was happening here?

River turned to face the stage as the lights had dimmed enough that she wouldn’t be able to catch the redhead’s eye unless she stripped and forced her to motorboat her chest (maybe she could suffocate her…). So caught by the gentle sounds of strings, River turned back to face the stage and took one long, steadying breath. She wanted to push it out of her mind, to admit that the redhead had to be mistaken but she simply couldn’t convince herself that it was true. But if it were…why didn’t Agnes tell her she visited this girl’s apartment?

Her eyes narrowed as she stared at the stage, in particular at the brunette that was playing her violin so passionately. She wanted to give Agnes the benefit of the doubt, of course, as she had never done something like this before. But, still, she found it strange…and weren’t they a little cozy in the wine bar the other night? She found her teeth and took another calming breath. Benefit of the doubt…benefit of the doubt…

---

The show was over and River applauded with everyone else. Unfortunately it was clear that something was bothering her. She didn’t clap with the same energy as everyone else, especially not the redhead that was sitting (now standing) next to her. It was almost annoying how the Scot exclaimed how ‘stoatin’ the performance was…whatever that meant. No, as much as River wanted to hope that her mood would improve by the end of this show, it hadn’t. She wanted answers and her ability to ask for them in a civil manner was beginning to wane. She needed to see her fiancée and she needed to see her now.

As everyone else stood up, River followed suit, picking up her clutch and preparing to move down the aisle – that is until she saw that the other girl was blocking her way. Why was she stopping her? The Scottish girl asked if she was going to see “Aggie” (that made her eye twitch) and if she minded if she would follow her backstage to congratulate her. Oh how River wished she could say what she wanted to say to her. She was having quite enough of the girl’s accent and since she had questions for Agnes, she wanted to tell the redhead to back off. But she didn’t. Instead one part of her wanted to be a little more…devious with this.

”Suuuure hon,” River said with a fake smile that barely looked genuine. She moved passed Rebecca, “accidentally” stepping on her toe as she did so. ”Just follow me. I know where the backstage entrance is.”

River said nothing else and led on, glancing back only ever now and again to see if Rebecca was still there and offering her a “smile” and a wave for her to follow through the crowds trying to exit. It was time to get some answers.

---

Agnes sighed as she sat backstage, sitting and staring at her reflection in the vanity mirror. The performance, according to everyone, was a massive success. She remembered the applause, the cue to stand up and bow, and she remembered shuffling off stage, but it was all very distant to her. As if she had an out-of-body experience once the music had finished and she had yet to return to her body. She watched everything as it happened rather than experienced it. The only thing that caused her pulse to race was the thick Scottish accent shouting that cheered along with everyone. Dammit…get out of my head…

A deep breath filled her lungs and she could feel the dull buzz from her chest. The insects could sense her agitation and were getting themselves ready to defend her. However Agnes, over time, had gained enough of a mastery over the beasts that she didn’t need to worry about them accidentally spilling out and causing problems. No, instead their buzz dulled with each deep breath that the brunette took. One final calming inhale and Agnes hung her head, closing her eyes. That felt better.

Feeling a hand on her shoulder, she turned to see one of her fellow players smiling and congratulating her for a job well done. She smiled genuinely back to the person, patting their hand and offering her thanks before she stood up and started to gather her belongings; she needed to get changed. However, before she got too far, another voice rang out that pulled her attention to the mirror in front of her; it was River and she was sauntering backstage with a killer smile on her lips and wearing one of Agnes’ favorite dresses. For a second she was absolutely relieved to see her, but that relief washed away when she saw the second individual following behind River – it was Rebecca.

Ohgod! Ohgod! Ohgod! Ohgod! Ohgod! Ohgod! her thoughts were deafening as she felt her entire body tremble in panic. Still, she was a trooper as she forced herself to turn around and smile at her fiancée. River immediately walked up to her, wrapped her arms around her waist and gave her one of the deepest and most passionate kisses that Agnes had ever received from her. She squeaked as she literally felt her breath being taken away as she opened a cautionary eye towards Rebecca. Before she knew it, the kiss ended and River leaned back, keeping herself plastered to Agnes side, giggling as she used her thumb to brush some of the smeared lipstick from her partner’s lips.

”Ah, sweetie, you were so amazing,” she said with surprising cheerfulness. When was the last time River was so…upbeat?

”OH, um, t-thank you, darling,” she replied. She tried to both look and not look at Rebecca as she was unsure where they stood in their relationship right now. Her thoughts were so jumbled already, but only became more hazy when she felt the firm, strong hand of her lover find its way to her posterior and give it a firm squeeze. Agnes jumped and giggled a bit embarrassed at River’s behavior. ”OH...excuse you…” she said breathlessly.

River shrugged and winked at her. ”What? You’re mine. I can squeeze you in public if I want.” She gave Agnes a playful wink before she turned to Rebecca. ”Surely you don’t have problems with public displays of affection, right Rebecca?”

Was River… off? It was hard to figure out when she had spent so little time with the woman, but Rebecca felt a sense of unease at River’s smile. Agnes’s fiancée was happy to lead her to the backstage area, which Rebecca wanted to be excited about, but there was a nagging feeling holding her back. ”Thenk ye, Eh'd actually pure appreciate 'at, if ye—oow!” Rebeca winced as River accidentally(?) stepped on her foot, which was unfortunately adorned in a strappy, open-toed heel.

The redhead would grin and bear the momentary pain and walk it off, keeping up with River as she led them enthusiastically to the backstage area. Focused so intensely on the music, Rebecca did not give much thought to River during the performance, but she must have loved it as well, because she was filled with energy.

Finally, they made it to the backstage area, where musicians were carefully putting away their instruments and taking a moment to relax and feel accomplished for another great show. River knew exactly where to go, which made sense since this was likely not her first time coming back stage to congratulate Agnes. The victorious violinist was already standing when they approached, and Rebecca was starting to wave in her direction before River quickened her pace and reached Agnes.

It would have been naïve to think, behind closed doors, that Agnes and River’s romance was not steamy and passionate and sensual. At least that thought could live behind the hypothetical closed doors, of which Rebecca was blissfully unaware. Given who Agnes always was as a person, Rebecca was not expecting a public display of affection like the one River was treating her to enthusiastically. Having already seen the harpist greet her fiancée with a kiss at Gotham’s Lost Lady, it caught her off guard to see how different the greeting was tonight. At the wine bar, there was a genuine, silly kiss rather than kind of kiss that would usually precede tossing Agnes onto the nearest bed.

Rebecca flinched initially, but steeled her nerve. Somehow, for some reason, she must have given River the impression that it was important to display dominance and claim her territory. It was not unfounded, but it was a stark turn in her behavior. They exchanged so few words that night, Rebecca was scanning their conversations to figure out how she might have tipped River off; before they made it backstage, she was still even under the impression that her past as River’s ex was still unknown.

It was also possible she was reading too far into the kiss. Maybe something about Agnes just had River’s engine going. The Scot could sympathize, being more than familiar with what it was like to have such a pure weakness for Agnes. Regardless of the reason, she would smile and stomach the display, not looking to cause her former flame any trouble for the evening.

Her smile did falter when Agnes reacted with surprise as River grabbed her bottom, though only for the initial moment when she involuntarily cringed. If River was looking to antagonize Rebecca, it was a certainty that she caught the flinch, and that bothered the competitive young lady. They were not even in competition (to Rebecca’s knowledge, at least,) but she did not want to concede a moment of weakness nevertheless.

She refused to flinch when River spoke, even if what she said left her with an upset feeling in her stomach. All the language sounded similar to how the sleazy politician Alan Adamson spoke to her, as though she were a possession rather than a person. Now Agnes was the thing to be owned, and that might have bothered her more.

Rebecca made the conscious decision to avoid being baited by the clear jab. She was here for Agnes as her support, not as River’s romantic rival. ”Ah’m jist glad ye got me back haur sae Ah coods congratulate Aggie,” she replied with a smile, before turning her attention back to the star of the evening. ”Th' whole performance was lovely. Ye belang up oan 'at stage wi' thes orchestra.” Agnes spoke so highly about her colleagues in their last meeting, Rebecca knew this was a place and a group she felt at home with.

Every impulse in her body wanted to hug Agnes, but Rebecca knew better. River was attached to her hip, making it clear that all others should maintain their distance. ”It's aw Ah've ever wanted tae see one ay mah oldest friends fin' 'er place tae shine.” She felt many things for Agnes, but at this moment, the main force in her was an overwhelming sense of pride.

Knowing it would be the wise choice not to linger, Rebecca wrapped things up. ”Anyway, Ah shoods gie going; Ah wooldnae want tae keep ye tois lovebirds. It was a pleasure, River,” she lied with a smile and a nod, before offering a hand for Agnes to shake. ”Thanks fur th’ great performance, Aggie.”

For anyone else, it shouldn’t have seemed odd for their significant other, especially an engaged one, to want to engage in some public displays of affection. A tiny kiss here, a nuzzle there, some hand-holding, maybe even a sensual caress of the lower back; such things were acceptable to those people who equally engaged in the action. However, while the two women did of course hold hands and give cute kisses in public, the manner with which River kissed Agnes was anything but what she was used to. It wasn’t cutesy, it wasn’t sweet, there was passion and something reminiscent of ownership radiating throughout the kiss.

Agnes felt her breath completely taken away by the action and, if they had been alone, well, she may have actually been a little turned on. But the simple fact was that they weren’t alone From the corner of her eye, Agnes could still see Rebecca there, standing awkwardly off to the side and trying to both look and not look at the pair of them as they seemingly devoured one another in front of her. The idea that Rebecca was there, watching, well, it made the violinist even more self-conscious and she immediately felt a bit of anxiety settle into her chest. Why was she embarrassed?

When the passionate dance of their tongues had ended, Agnes took a wavering step back to keep from falling over due to the intensity. It wasn’t that back, but, still, she placed her hand over her chest and looked at river in a semi confused manner – what was her fiancée thinking? Agnes wracked her brain trying to figure out what was going one. While she wanted to believe that the music she played had some effect on the young Sioux, she knew that that was certainly not the case. So what was it?

Agnes chewed on her lip in thought, shyly looking away from both the redhead and her fiancée as she tried to figure everything out. Did Rebecca actually tell River something? If so, why was River all over her? Shouldn’t she be mad? Something wasn’t adding up but whatever it was, she couldn’t figure it out without more information.

At this point Agnes felt a little like a prized peacock with the wings clipped. River had her arm wrapped around her waist and seemed to be all smiles with Rebecca. Okay so maybe things weren’t as bad as she initially thought? But there was still something off about this whole thing that she couldn’t quite put her finger. As much as she loved River, the Sioux was rarely this touchy feely with her in public and especially not in such a fervor.

”Hon?” Agnes said with a ting of sarcasam. ”You sure you feeling alright?”

River was all smiles and sweetness but even Agnes could tell that there was something off about her. She cast her curious, sapphire eye over to Rebecca, almost as if mentally trying to peak into her mind to figure out what had happened but nothing was dawning on her. Whatever it was that had happened, she wouldn’t find out about it right now, but judging by the manner at which River plastered herself to her side, she was bound to find out.

The sound of the Scot pulled Agnes out of her confused thoughts. She turned back to the redhead, giving her a soft, genuine smile. It was almost as if their argument earlier, the “incident” that happened between them, had never happened and they were seeing each other again for the first time after being so long apart. The redhead praised Agnes for what she witnessed today, even admitting that Agnes belonged on the stage. The words were so sweet that Agnes wanted to walk over and wrap her arms around the young Scot but had to restrain herself since River was still in the room and she doubted she was going to let her just walk over there and hug another woman.

Agnes tilted her head down, giving her a elegant nod and responded in her sweet, honey-like voice. ”Thanks Becca. That…it means a lot.”

The air in the room suddenly felt colder. Agnes chewed on her lip, glancing over to River who was standing off to the side now, having detached from Agnes, but was still seemingly watching the two of them like a hawk. Her scrutinizing gaze seemed more focused on Agnes herself; why? Looking away from River, she gave a sweet smile to Rebecca and nodded again. The other started to excuse herself, saying that she needed to head out to leave both Agnes and River to themselves. Cordially she gestured to River and then turned, offering her hand to Agnes.

It felt funny…the idea of shaking hands with her. In all the years they knew one another, even when they weren’t dating, handshakes were really not how they expressed themselves. Even if it was just a light hug, there was always that kind of physical contact. But, still, Agnes didn’t want to risk any weirdness being picked up on by River so a handshake it was. ”Thanks for coming.”

She left it at that. Nothing more, nothing less, just a cordially greeting, a thank you, and a good-bye; nothing else was required. Stepped back away from her, Agnes watched the redhead as she turned and walked away, heading out a nearby door and back out into the rest of the building. It was only when she was gone did she turn around to see the look in River’s eye. Before she could even catch her breath, River spoke.

”You were at her apartment?”

---

The ride home and the first few steps into their apartment building was not the greatest time, to say the least. Almost as soon as that fateful question was uttered, Agnes could feel herself retreating into damage control. She needed to know what to say during all this and to find out exactly how much Rebecca had told River. It maybe not have seemed as important but Agnes really wanted to try and keep from saying anything about the kiss. If they could just stay off of that subject, then she could explain away being there. Sadly, even that assurance seemed just a tiny bit off given how agitated River was.

The car ride home they didn’t say a lot. It was tense and too quiet and except for a random question here and there that Agnes attempted to artfully answer, there wasn’t much discussion. Oh, but as soon as they got back to their apartment and parking lot, River slammed the door to her VW Bug a bit harder than was normal and they was their descent. River wanted to know what was going on and why she was at Rebecca’s apartment. Agnes had said just so they could catch up since they met one another at the bar. But the boom, the thing that caused everything to go to hell, was the fact that Agnes had finally revealed that Rebecca was actually that Rebecca; her ex-girlfriend.

Agnes had never felt so heated. The way that River carried on only pulled up her own anger as the two of them jabbed at the other, and defended. River wanted to know if any funny business was going on and went on to explain/shout that Agnes should have told her that Rebecca was her ex and told her that she was going to visit her. Agnes’ only defense was that River’s attitude these days didn’t make it seem like it was a wise choice as she was so focused on getting a job. A job that she wouldn’t need to get if she had stayed in the Traveling Orchestra, River was quick to point out.

On and on it went like this until the pair of them had finally had enough and just segregated themselves to different rooms of their apartment. While River secluded herself in the bedroom, Agnes, in her pajamas and blankets, sniffled with a box of nearby tissue and her favorite ladybug plushie toy. Sitting with her legs curled up underneath her on the couch, Agnes tried to keep taking calming breathes. This was not at all how she wanted this evening to go. It was supposed to be a beautiful thing and now it was covered in this mess.

While the TV played some background noise about a mother and daughter living in some fictional town called Star’s Hollow, Agnes had her reddened eyes set on her phone screen. Randomly she flipped between apps, the internet, and various other things until she accidentally tapped on her contact list: there, the first name she saw, Becca…with a tiny heart emoji next to it. She gulped, taking a breath, feeling the worst she had ever felt in her life. She may not be able to fix things with River right now but she can start by at least apologizing for her behavior.

Taking a breath, Agnes stared at her phone, tried to convince herself not to do this, then did it anyways and sent a text to her ex-girlfriend.

You up?

Agnes’s reaction to River’s forward behavior was enough of a hint that it was out of the ordinary for the couple to be acting this way in public. The violinist was not the only one putting on a show that evening, it seemed. Rebecca wondered what her motivation was, whether it was her being territorial, or if she had some idea of what might have happened when Agnes visited.

Even with the presence of he bride-to-be, Rebecca’s heart swelled when Agnes replied. She was happy to know that, after everything, she still had the proud girl from Paisley in her corner. Knowing she could still make an impact in Agnes’s life was all Rebecca could have hoped for out of the night.

A handshake felt so formal and detached after the intimacy they once shared, but it would have to do. Rebecca would get used to limiting the contact and affection she could give to Agnes until she could handle being one of her best friends without letting complications linger. One day, they would be two good friends who used to date, but were fine with how life turned out. With a smile and one last wave, Rebecca left the backstage area to catch an Uber back to her apartment.

---

Her time at the theater ended on a high note, but the day itself was long and emotionally taxing leading up to that resolution, so Rebecca felt she earned a night of treating herself. Sprawled out on the love seat in her living room, the teacher could enjoy a nice… few glasses of wine knowing there was no class the next morning. She wore her plaid pink and green cotton pajama shorts and a black tank top, with her feet hiding in fluffy black slippers, and the whole Scottish package was wrapped in a big, fuzzy black blanket. The only parts of her outside of the warm wrapping were her head to drink wine and one arm to deliver it between the coffee table and her lips.

Rebecca was watching one of her favorite shows centered around a talkative mother and daughter pair, with her hand taking a break from the wine glass to pet the cat nestled against her. It might do her some good, she realized, to give her mother a call soon. It was hard to keep in touch with her family when she was in the states and keeping herself busy, but Mackenzie Grey always knew how to keep her daughter’s spirits up. The mother would give her hope and words of encouragement. They both knew she always liked Agnes, but she was too supportive to say anything to make her daughter believe she thought the wrong choice was made in ending the relationship.

It was too long a night to be thinking heavy thoughts. Rebecca was still only one glass of wine into her evening, and she wanted to shut her brain off and enjoy whatever argument was taking place at the Friday night dinner on television.

Hey, Listen!

Rebecca’s head jerked in the direction of her phone, wondering who might be reaching out to her on such a lazy night.

You up?

It was a surprise to see Agnes reaching out to her after they had seen each other earlier in the night. Evidently, intense, overtly-passionate love making with River did have to end eventually. It was only a two word text, so there could have been a whole host of reasons for Agnes to check and see if her friend was still awake. Maybe it was time to stop looking at every text like a riddle, looking for the intent and backstory, and just start replying.

Yeah, just watching tv. What’s up? How’s your night?

It was stupid. There was no reason for her to have made that text, especially considering everything that was happening already. The last thing that she wanted to do was dig the hole any deeper with River. As it was, their argument really hadn’t come to an end but instead had just taken a momentary breather. The anger, the shouts, the accusations, the was draining after all, and both women had to retreat to their corners to collect themselves. With River in the bedroom, the sound of the shower indicating that she was washing off the negative feeling, Agnes looked at the closed bedroom door and took a breath. Space was needed but something told her that maybe she should have walked in to try and smooth things over.

But that wasn’t what she had done.

At the moment the young violinist felt guilty, angry, and in need of some kind of validation, whether it was good or bad. So with a defeated sigh she texted the one person in this city that she knew was connected with some of the best feelings she had ever experienced. Rebecca made her happy, one time, and while they weren’t together anymore, even the concept of friendship was a little rocky this time, but she really didn’t know who else she could turn to right now.

Before she could even try to stop herself, she had sent a vague message to the Scottish redhead. Agnes wasn’t as technologically savvy to know that “You up?” was the type of text message usually reserved for late night booty calls; she earnestly just wanted to know if Rebecca was still awake. So no realizing that what she had sent could have been misunderstood, Agnes set her phone down on the arm rest of the chair and tried to turn her attention back to the show that played on her television. Rebecca was probably asleep already. Good, then that meant she could have the rest of the night to come up with a plausible excuse as to why she texted her.

With the sound of a squeaking knob from the shower, Agnes glanced back to the close door. River’s shower must be over. Maybe it was time for her to get up and see if she could salvage something from this evening. It was terrible as she had really been looking forward to playing tonight; it was the opening of a string heavy program, a chance for her and her group to shine; it had become a success that she hadn’t expected but now it was just all ruined. Idly she chewed on her lip and proceeded to pull off her fleece blanket and stand from the couch – she had to swallow her pride and try, didn’t she?

Soundlessly she moved to the door. Standing in front of it, she curled her fingers in and around the pulled down sleeves of her pink and gray top, nervously trying to summon up the nerve to knock and call out to her fiancée. With her fingers curled in, her fist raised, Agnes prepared to knock when the dull sound of a buzzing hit her ears. Turning away and back to the couch she saw the screen of her phone lit up and shining like a beacon in a storm. She shouldn’t…she really shouldn’t…

Yeah, just watching tv. What’s up? How’s your night?

Neutral. It sounded nice and neutral. However it was hard to really tell such things in this digital age. There were so many ways that it could have been read but Agnes figured it was better to not look too deeply in it. Instead she curled back onto the couch and stared at the phone, her fingers flexing and twitching as she tried to think of how to respond, or even if she should. She could just ignore it and try to talk to River again, but that didn’t seem to be the most favorable option on her mind. Besides, River usually took a bit before she was dressed after a shower – she didn’t want to barge in while she was nude or something, that wouldn’t help this situation at all.

Gulping, Agnes took a few seconds to stare at her TV, not really seeing anything that was going on and instead just allowed herself to consider which direction to take the conversation. Eventually she decided to just speak civilly until she could figure out what she was going to do. A deep breath and she started her response.

Nothing. The same. Could be better, though.

[Send]

Sitting back in the couch, Agnes turned her eyes back to the screen and watched as the mother and daughter duo shared their feelings over coffee. She shorted at that, had that been her own mother she probably would have tossed that burning coffee directly into her face. Her eyes glanced over the phone once again, which she plucked up and sent another following message.

Did you really enjoy the show?

[Send]

Her bruised ego could use a bit of a pick-me-up right now and, hopefully, some praise would grant her that.

“You up?” was definitely international booty call language, but luckily for Agnes, Rebecca was just as unfamiliar with modern hookup culture as she was. The message did give her some hope that she had not screwed things up beyond repair with her ex-girlfriend. The night at her apartment was a setback to becoming friends, and the night at the show seemed like it went well, but River’s enthusiastic PDA made the odd-woman-out visibly awkward. Seeing Agnes reaching out to her proactively reassured Rebecca that perhaps she was not the only one looking to make their friendship work.

It was getting late, but Rebecca was in a good place for a conversation before bed. She was not so tired she could not exchange a few texts, but she didn’t have quite enough energy to overthink Agnes’s messages.
Hey, Listen!

Nothing. The same. Could be better, though.

What did that mean? Agnes had a great performance, and she went home with a fiancée that seemed to be very into her. What was the musician’s night missing? Rebecca was hesitant to ask about the comment, because it might not have been her place to question it. If something was bothering Agnes, was it not River’s role to be there for her now? And if River was the problem… would it not be completely inappropriate for Rebecca to chime in?

Hey, Listen!

Did you really enjoy the show?

Rebecca smiled, knowing there was at least one way she could try to make Agnes feel better.

I totally did. It’s so different seeing you fitting in perfectly in an orchestra. I still remember seeing you shine solo.

There’s just nothing you can’t do with that violin in your hand.

It was true; Rebecca always loved hearing Agnes play, so boosting the violinist’s ego was easy. Agnes deserved to be confident, and hopefully with that friendly reminder, her mood might improve. She could probably leave her response there.

…

So what about your night could be better?

Rebecca sighed and took a sip of her wine, wondering why she asked a question like that. It might have been intrusive, but Agnes came to her and let her know something was wrong. As a girlfriend or a friend, it was not in Becca’s nature to ignore someone’s need to talk, especially if that someone was as important as Agnes.

”River! I told you! I’m not sleeping with her. She’s just an old friend.”

”No, Ags. She’s your ex-girlfriend and you conveniently left that little bit of information out!”

In the time that it took for Agnes to send that last test to Rebecca, all hell had seemingly broken loose in the apartment of the two musicians. While she had laid curled up on the couch, her eyes drifting between the television set and the idle phone on her lap, she waited for any sign of River’s presence still in apartment. After she had heard the shower turn off, things had gotten relatively quiet in the bedroom; she couldn’t even hear a peep. Distracted by wanting to do something for herself, Agnes returned to her seat and began to message the last person in the world that she should be messaging, the source of all this anguish.

It wasn’t long after Agnes had begun the conversation that River finally made herself known by stepping out of the bedroom, her eyes casually drifting over to Agnes. The two had locked gazes and Agnes could see the red that stained the usually brilliant white. However they couldn’t say anything to one another and River pushed one, padding through the room in her yoga pants and sweatshirt, heading for the kitchen. Agnes had watched her, closely, licking her lips and trying to decide if she should try to talk to her. Even when she heard the buzz of Rebecca’s replies, she didn’t pay them any heed.

She started meekly, just saying the young Sioux’s name out loud as she stood up from the couch. Sadly it seemed that her voice only continued to agitate the other young woman. With her back turned, her gaze peering inside a cabinet, she clearly had stiffened at the sound of Agnes’ voice. The violinist should have taken this as a warning to not proceed – but she did. However, all she got out was the name ”Becca…” before it was met with the sound of the cabinet door slamming audibly.

River had never been one to be subtle, unless she was being playful, and this was certainly not playful River. The accusations were the first thing off the bat. Agnes tried to explain that Rebecca was just an old friend but the various scenarios that River could concoct in her vivid imagination had apparently run wild. It didn’t help that Agnes had kept it quiet that Rebecca had been her ex-girlfriend this whole time and not just an old friend from school. Mistake number one.

Mistake number two…

”And then I hear from this ***** that you were at her apartment and you didn’t tell me that either?” River was furious now, standing in front of Agnes who looked as tired and sickly as a wet dog. ”What the hell else am I supposed to think!?”

Agnes chewed on her lip, sighing as she was tired of having this argument over and over again. River had said all this before on the car-ride home and to hear it again was just stripping at her nerves. She wanted to say something that would help steer them back to a happier state of being but what else was left? It seemed that no matter what she said next it was only going to fuel River’s imagination. The ironic thing was that she actually wasn’t sleeping with Rebecca; she may as well now if River continued to go on like this. She shook the thought from her head as she tried to look River in the eye.

”River. I’m sorry, okay. But nothing is going on!” she took a shaky breath. ”I didn’t say anything because…because…of this. I didn’t think you’d believe me. Ever since we moved to New York you’ve been…I dunno…not you! You moody and suspicious and bity to me. ME, River. Just because you’re having a hard time adjusting doesn’t mea-“

She could get the words out. Before she could, River had stomped passed Agnes, nudging her forcefully in the shoulder and heading back into the bedroom, the door slamming closed behind her. Agnes stared at the door, her already sore eyes glistening again with tears that began to form in the corners. She was really beginning to feel like a screw up now. Shaking her head, she return to the couch, listening as she could hear River moving through the bedroom, forcefully opening and closing drawers before she heard the sound of the bed being sat about roughly. River was down for the moment.

Another regretful sigh fell from her lips as she caught sight of the little blinking light in the corner of her phone indicating that she had a new message; excuse her, messages.

I totally did. It’s so different seeing you fitting in perfectly in an orchestra. I still remember seeing you shine solo. There’s just nothing you can’t do with that violin in your hand.

Agnes may have felt like crap but reading that already started to uplift her. She was glad that at least someone enjoyed the show, that they would have good memories of this night. With a sniffle she was about to set the phone down when she noticed that there was yet another message attached to the rest of them. She scrolled down until it was front and center:

So what about your night could be better?

She gulped. She knew she shouldn’t have said anything but now here she was, stuck. She wanted to unload, to say everything that happened, but that wasn’t right, was it? Rebecca was not in a position any longer to be that shoulder Agnes could use to cry on. They hadn’t been that close in years. Of course the ex-runaway would always have feelings for her but they were in a different space now. They needed to get to know another again.

Feeling that she needed time before she responded, Agnes set her phone down on the coffee table and set her eyes on the TV screen again. She tried to get into the show, to watch it closely, but found that her mind kept wanting to drift back to anything but that. She wanted to figure what to say to River, about whether or not she should confide in Rebecca, or whether she should just resign herself to bed and let the whole matter go until the light of morning. She contemplated and seconds turned to minutes and minutes into an hour. Before she knew it, Agnes was startled away by the end theme from the show she was watching what felt like only seconds before. However, it seemed that no one episode of the one-hour dramedy had passed, but two. She had been asleep for two hours?

Blinking the sleep out of her eyes, Agnes looked around the room in a daze before she picked up her phone to check the time. It was late. By instinct she swiped to activate the screen and turn the phone off when she spied that Rebecca’s text was still open. That’s right…she had been trying to decide what to do. Anxiously she chewed on her bottom lip before she finally started to casually type out a message she was never going to send.

Groggily she typed out:

Being in bed with you.

She sighed, stared and the phone, and then started to delete. However, in the midst of her deleting, her thumb slipped and she started deleting from the wrong point, accidentally leaving a wayward “you” behind. Taking a second to compose herself, and still not focusing on the screen too hard, she typed out a real reply.

you. I was just talking. Can’t sleep. Maybe still a little hopped up on energy from the performance.

She paused. Something came to mind that she wanted to ask but wasn’t sure how to word it; but maybe she could now.

you. I was just talking. Can’t sleep. Maybe still a little hopped up on energy from the performance. Out of curiosity…was River okay around you?

Idly she glanced over the phone before she finally just tapped [Send]. She wanted to get to the bottom of this, even in her sleep-addled state.

Rebecca kept her focus on the television, allowing the fast-talking characters to keep her mind occupied while it tried to make up possible reasons why Agnes’s night turned sour. She was ready to be there for her friend, but something felt wrong. Either she was taking the role of confidante from River, or she was the person Agnes went to when there was trouble with River; both positions were dangerous places for Rebecca to be.

Or perhaps River was there for her, too, and Agnes just wanted as much support as she could get for the night. It was a bad habit to make assumptions and assume the worst-case scenario. How many issues on a television drama arose because of assumptions or lack of communication? Agnes was going to communicate with her, and until then, Rebecca would keep an open mind.

Over an hour passed, and Rebecca started wondering why her phone was so quiet? Once more, assumptions came easily: maybe Agnes thought better than to involve Rebecca in whatever problems she was facing for the night. River might have become available to give Agnes a shoulder to cry on, putting off the need to reply. On the flip-side, maybe River did come back around, and they got into a heated—

Or Agnes got tired and went to sleep. Rebecca scolded herself for getting in her own head once more. It was getting late, and even the Scot was starting to yawn involuntarily, (an act Domino mimicked.) After sending the text, Agnes must have realized that a good night’s rest would be healthier than staying up to exchange messages with her ex. Rebecca considered heading to bed herself, but decided she would watch one more episode, even if it was clearly to give Agnes time in case she decided to reply.

True to her word, as an hour passed and another episode ended, Rebecca was un-sushi rolling herself from the blanket and standing from the couch, feeling her legs stretch for the first time in hours. Another powerful yawn came over her as she held her arms over her head to extend her body and release some tension from her tired, unused muscles. She was grabbing the empty glass from the table and walking it over to the sink when she was caught off guard by a Hey, Listen!

Glad she held out just long enough, Rebecca skipped back over to the couch and grabbed her phone; after all, if Agnes was reaching out after such a long pause, she might need a friend after all. Truthfully, curiosity was begging her to find out what about Agnes’s night could have been “better.”

you. I was just talking. Can’t sleep. Maybe still a little hopped up on energy from the performance. Out of curiosity…was River okay around you?

Rebecca eyed the text suspiciously. The first word, “you,” felt out of place. Was she what could be “better” about the night? Did she do something wrong, or was Agnes implying that more of her could have made the night better? It felt like a silly thought when Agnes and River seemed to have plenty of one another to occupy the night; asking if the couple wanted to grab a bite to eat or a coffee sounded like a questionable, unnecessary idea.

The capitalization also caught Rebecca’s eye. She was tech-savvy enough to know a modern phone would automatically capitalize the first word in a text message, yet the “you” was still lower-case. Was there more to it originally?

Frustrated, Rebecca lightly smacked her forehead with the back of her phone. She was being the girl she adamantly refused wanting to become. She was overanalyzing the capitalization of a letter in a text message. She always thought it was a silly moment in her favorite musical when a character dissected a letter and finds possible hidden meaning in the placement of a comma, yet now she was the embodiment of this paranoia in real life.

Though Agnes’s response to her question was dodgy. Why would she mention how her night could be better without saying why? And even more curious, where did the question about River come from?

Rebecca eyed the text for a few moments before slowly composing an answer that was as truthful and unbiased as she could manage.

I mean, I think so? She was pretty distracted by her phone when I got there. We didn’t say much before

Thinking back to the moments just before the lights of the show dimmed, Rebecca remembered a moment in hindsight that, at the time, she did not fully register. It could have been worth mentioning, if only to discover if there was more to what happened than she would be privy to understanding.

I mean, I think so? She was pretty distracted by her phone when I got there. She looked at me kinda weird when I mentioned your visit. But she was nice after the show.

She paused again. It was probably an accident and probably not worth mentioning…

I mean, I think so? She was pretty distracted by her phone when I got there. She looked at me kinda weird when I mentioned your visit. But she was nice after the show. She stepped on my foot, but that was an accident I think.

Rebecca hit the [SEND] icon and sighed, laying across the loveseat while she awaited a response. Even with the message sent, questions were still crossing her mind, and one made it to her fingers in the form of a follow-up text.

Hey, if you don’t mind me asking, is River always that affectionate in public?

Sending off the second message and holding the phone against her stomach, she could at least be proud she was polite enough not to ask if River was “always all over you like that,” feeling the verbiage might come across as antagonistic.

Agnes was beginning to feel pretty bad by now. She should have had never contacted Rebecca, should have never texted her in the first place. While she used to always turn to the redhead in the last few years that was no longer the case. They had moved on passed one another, they had lived separate lives, become different people; and yet right now the violinist was felt like, as much as she didn’t want to, that Rebecca was still one of those people that Agnes knew she could always turn to. That wasn’t the best thing given her current situation but, before she knew it, she was in a conversation.

It should be noted that Agnes was still a little groggy given that she had just fallen asleep out of sheer weariness after the events of the evening. If she hadn’t had been so tired, then maybe she would have been smarter and not actually texted her ex. Common logic would dictate that it wasn’t a smart move, but for now she didn’t see it that way. She wanted someone to talk to and the only person available right now was the redhead who she had just messaged.

The seconds passed and Agnes started to awaken a bit more. She glanced back to the bedroom door; it was very quiet now. Taking a calming breath, tried to go back over the evening, tried to return through the painful conversation and pick out things that she could apologize for or understand from River’s perspective. To be honest, she could see things as bad as all that, especially given the fact that River had been partially right; Agnes and Rebecca had kissed, after all.

God, they had kissed! They kissed! Agnes had done it again, cheated on another person and for the same woman! What was that about? After the whole incident with Jasmine, Agnes had promised herself that she would never be caught in such a compromising position again and yet all it took was some wine and a night of reminiscing for her to break her own promises. It was ridiculous, to say the least. She should just turn off her phone and plan how to both confess and apologize to River before everything was rui—

Bzzzt…

The screen of her phone lit up to show that she had a new message. Without thinking she plucked it up, swiped, and read.

I mean, I think so? She was pretty distracted by her phone when I got there. She looked at me kinda weird when I mentioned your visit. But she was nice after the show. She stepped on my foot, but that was an accident I think.

If it were possible to feel her heart sink any deeper in her chest, she couldn’t think of it. As she read those words over and over again, attempted to piece together what had transpired, it was creating a pretty awful thought. Of course she had heard from River that Rebecca told her about Agnes coming over, but how much she was told was not fully stated. According to Rebecca herself it seemed that she had said it merely as an off-hand comment and nothing more. She must have assumed that Agnes had told River she had gone to see her ex. The violinist could only shake her head and closed her eyes tightly. Dammit.

”Damn it. Damn it.” she grumbled. She was screwing up left and right now, wasn’t she?

She didn’t know how to respond to that. She couldn’t be mad at Rebecca for having said anything because she was clearly just trying to forge the path of friendship. Agnes wanted to do that too but she knew River and she knew that she needed to find the correct way of telling her these things. Sadly that chance was taken from her when the cat was yanked screeching out of the bag. The only good thing was that Rebecca mentioned nothing about the kiss – if anything that should come from her.

For a few seconds Agnes rolled the phone between her fingers as she tried to think of how to follow up her response. But in her musings another text rang through…

Hey, if you don’t mind me asking, is River always that affectionate in public?

She gulped. There was no hiding this any further so, rolling her neck in a vain attempt to relieve some stress, she typed up a response.

Not so much. She was showing off.

[SEND]

Agnes stared at her phone for a few seconds, feeling a tremble roll through from her bottom of her spine and up skull.

I never told her I went to see you. River has been having a hard time adjusting to New York. She never even knew you were my ex. I wanted to ease her into the truth. And tonight, well, the truth came out.

[SEND]

Agnes sniffled feeling the tears starting to sting hard enough that they spilled down her cheeks. The floodgates were opening and she had no chance of making them stop anytime soon. She had to tell someone…

We’ve been fighting. Since you left.

[SEND]

Rebecca considered turning the television back on, but it would only serve as background noise, since her phone was the one thing keeping her awake. If the next message took two hours to arrive like the last one, she had to commit to letting herself retreat into bed. There was figuratively losing sleep over someone, and there was literally letting someone keep her from sleep, and Agnes should no longer be allowed the power to keep her up until dawn waiting.

Hey, Listen!

The phone fumbled in her hand when the obnoxiously high pitched voice greeted her, but much to Rebecca’s surprise, the message came from a different name.

Nessa
Hey Sprinkles, up for some company?

Since their first date, Rebecca had kept continuous conversation going with Nessa. It was nothing serious, but she understood why it would be easier for everyone to take things slow and ease the baggage-laden Rebecca into the dating world. Nessa was sweet, even when she was being sarcastic, or when she was coming up with freckle and red hair themed nicknames. It was surprising seeing a message come through so late since their occasional dates gravitated around coffee and dinner. Was it a bold attempt from the gamer girl to initiate something more intimate?

Rebecca was still staring at the message, debating how to handle it, when three new Hey, Listen! alerts came through in quick succession.

Not so much. She was showing off.
I never told her I went to see you. River has been having a hard time adjusting to New York. She never even knew you were my ex. I wanted to ease her into the truth. And tonight, well, the truth came out.
We’ve been fighting. Since you left.

The messages were the missing piece of the puzzle Rebecca had been blind to that night, and with the completed picture of the evening now available, she felt her heart sink. She did not imagine River’s troubled look, because she inadvertently confessed that Agnes had visited her apartment. The act might have been acceptable enough without the lies of admission attached. River never knew Agnes was visiting, which could only have been intentional. Worse, she found out Agnes was not visiting a friend behind her back, she as visiting an ex. All the elements came together to create plenty of doubt and suspicion.

How should Rebecca even respond to that? She remembered how Agnes made it sound like the redhead had been putting them in an unethical, dangerous position. Realizing how unfair the accusation was, she got heated for a moment, aided by the undercurrent of alcohol still swirling through her blood.

Agnes, how could you let me think she knew all that?

She hit [SEND] before she could process what she was writing. A second, even more pointed message was being written out before Rebecca finally took a moment to look over what she was saying. The Scot never had to be in the position to explain an ex to a girlfriend, let alone a fiancée she was planning on sharing her life with. River had been struggling and it was affecting their relationship, so maybe a wrench like Rebecca was the last thing she needed to throw into her life.

I’m sorry. That’s not fair.

She wanted to send that message quickly before Agnes might have the chance to turn off her phone, feeling like the one person she could talk to was giving up on her.

I get it. Your position is tough. I didn’t think for a second. I feel bad, like I’m this thing that pops into your life and becomes a dirty little secret that ruins everything.

It was hard not to see herself as some harbinger of heartbreak when her appearance for Agnes consistently preceded relationship trouble. Maybe it was selfish for her to look for a friendship with her ex-girlfriend if it was going to cause her this much turmoil with River, the woman who did not leave her at an airport to pursue something new.

I’m here if you need to talk… but maybe I shouldn’t be?

Aggie… maybe you’d be better off if I just stayed out of your life. Me coming back has only made things worse for you. And I never wanted that.

Sending off several heavy messages at once was emotionally taxing. Rebecca was struggling to avoid the reality that her last text seriously proposed ending a friendship with one of the people she cared most about in the world. Rebecca had to learn to stop being selfish, and that might have to include accepting she was no longer something good for Agnes.

Looking to distract herself from the gravity of her conversation with Agnes, Rebecca switched over to her conversation with Nessa, looking at the open invitation she was offered. She could accept and spend her night in the company of a beautiful young woman who carried no complications or drama in her wake. Both Vloggers knew what was holding Rebecca back, and now Rebecca could make a very real decision to choose the present over the past.

Her finger hovered over the keyboard, contemplating how to respond.

Even as she started at her phone, anticipating Rebecca’s response, Agnes found herself wishing that she hadn’t said anything at all. She was tired, she had been through the emotional wringer, and the last thing she wanted was to cause more suspicion of her and Rebecca’s attempt at friendship. However it was feeling like with every text she was loose it more and more. The last one, unfortunately, could have been taken that she blamed Rebecca for spilling the beans. That wasn’t her intention, she was just recounting what had happened that the redhead didn’t know about. And now she was at jeopardy ruining all that because she was getting emotional.

She shook her head, more than little annoyed with herself, but that could have just been the sleep deprivation. She was tired and knew that she needed sleep but the old rule of “never go to bed angry” was still swimming in her head. However, she knew it wasn’t as simple as that. She couldn’t solve every problem right away, especially once as complicated and in-depth as this one. She messed up, she knew that she did, but as much as she wanted a quick fix, that didn’t seem possible right now.

After heaving a heavy sigh, Agnes was about ready to give up on her phone and just turn in to bed. She had already grabbed the remote and turned off the TV when she yawned and reached for her fleece blanket. But just as she curled the fabric around her body, she stopped when her phone buzzed yet again. Unsure of what to expect, she plucked up the phone and held it before her as she ready.

Agnes, how could you let me think she knew all that?

Wow. Agnes at first thought that she read the text wrong, but even as she read it a second (and yes, a third) time, she found herself realizing that Rebecca actually sounded pretty pissed off. She gulped, staring at the phone screen and that message it displayed. Great so now Rebecca was against her too? Agnes just felt everything crumbling around her now; was she really that much of a monster after all? She didn’t want to believe it but recent events seemed to be proving it time and again. God, she was horrible, wasn’t she?

Shaking her head, she started a response that was spurred on by her own hurt feelings.

Hey! I’m already in one fight, I don’t nee—

She stopped mid-word. Before she could finish the text, another came from through Rebecca, fairly quickly after the last.

I’m sorry. That’s not fair. I get it. Your position is tough. I didn’t think for a second. I feel bad, like I’m this thing that pops into your life and becomes a dirty little secret that ruins everything.

Agnes sighed and deleted her last message, fully; again, that wasn’t what she was saying. Of course when one looked at the situation, it seemed that way. If it hadn’t been for Rebecca showing up at the wine bar, who knows how this night would have gone. Maybe River would have been happy to hear the concert instead of focusing so intently on finding a job? Agnes knew she herself would feel a lot better because she wouldn’t have locked lips with another woman.

She sighed. This was such a bad idea. She never should have texted her, like, at all. Once they saw one another in the wine bar, Agnes should have just let everything go and moved on with her life as she already had. It would have been so much cleaner, so much better.

Another buzz and she turned back to her phone. More of Rebecca’s words were coming through.

I’m here if you need to talk… but maybe I shouldn’t be? Aggie… maybe you’d be better off if I just stayed out of your life. Me coming back has only made things worse for you. And I never wanted that.

Though she couldn’t see them, she could feel the tears twinkling in the corners of her eyes. Reading those words to herself over and over again, Agnes found herself at a crossroads. Rebecca was right, maybe they weren’t in the right space to be “just friends”. After all, their first meeting alone and all it took was a few drinks for them to share a kiss, clearly that was an alarm to the violinist that if she didn’t stop, everything was going to be ruined.

Her fingers heavy, Agnes’ fingers swiped across the screen as she started and deleted several messages in reply, but none of them sounded right. Sadly, there was only one sure-fire way to respond to such a mountain of messages that the Scot had thrown at her.

k.

She stared at her phone once more, for about eight seconds, before weariness, frustration, and sadness forced her to just turn the phone off and set it back on her nightstand. Another deep breath and Agnes curled up on the couch, turning so that she faced the back. Hugging her pillow to herself and wrapping herself up in the only comforting thing that would hold her tonight (her blanket) Agnes sniffled as she silently cried into her pillow. The thoughts plagued her about how much she had messed up and would continue to haunt her in the fitful dreams that would follow.