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As I scrubbed and rinsed away grime after grime, I couldn’t help myself but to notice some funny things, stupid things, patterns and parallels between this outlier of a typical weekday morning and a day in the life of your average pair of newlyweds.

Marriage. Y’know, even now, It sounded like such a grown-up word, such a faraway prospect that barely even a blip in the horizon. So just when the hell did it get so close, so real that I’m even starting to see it in the foamy, bubbly ocean I made of the sink?

There’s still time though, right? The toll of wedding bells was still a distant chime away. Twenty-three going on twenty-four, I’m still young. No need to worry about putting on the black suit just yet. Right?

I blame the girls. It’s entirely their fault for being all so goddamn desirable, clearly. If they got stuck with me as their groom-to-be one day, then they got no one to blame but themselves.

When I was done shelving the plates in the cabinets, Amanda walked out of the hallway again, this time wrapped head-to-toe in the latest and wooliest of winter fashion and swiping at her phone screen faster than I can send a two-letter text.

“Busy day ahead,” She muffled out of her scarf. “Even busier now that I pushed yesterday’s stream for tonight.”

.....

It certainly looked it too, what with her focus so acutely trained on her phone to even bother to see where she was walking. Something also tells me she might just be a little late to whatever she has planned for today as well.

I mean, I get it-breakfast is indeed important.

“Oh, right, Tyler’s in the hospital, by the way.”

Amanda said this, and she said it with all the gravitas of snow in winter that that freight train of a revelation crashed into me a few seconds late.

“Tyler’s... what?”

“Yeah, here’s a pic.”

Then continuing to address our mutual friend’s life like it was the day-to-day weather, Amanda turned her phone towards me, the awe of seeing a thousand red blurbs of notifications and private messages in her account drowned out by the startling image of Tyler, lying bruised, battered and bandaged on the drab gray of a hospital bed, smack dab right in the middle of her feed.

He looked dazed, one eye puffy and purple, an arm in a sling-but alive. Alive enough at least to flash a swollen smile to the camera, along with a feeble thumbs up from the only other limb on his body that wasn’t in a cast.

“What the hell happened to him?” I asked, while in my head, I was already drawing up a list of possible causes. All of which inexplicably involves a particular black-haired, ill-tempered vixen.

Call me bias, but let me tell ya, prejudice like this doesn’t just fall out of the sky. I’m just saying.

“No mentions here. But his friends said he was just fine yesterday evening,” Amanda said, flipping her phone back to herself, and for some reason, her sense of urgency still not matching mine. “Want my best guess-probably got wrecked from another stupid challenge again.”

My gaze flicked up at her. “Again?”

“Tried pitting himself against a professional sumo wrestler the last time,” Amanda said with an almost motherly disapproval. “Got himself two weeks for that. So this is just par for the course, honestly.”

Even if that’s true, I’d still wager to say I knew better. The very night after I convinced a begrudging Amelia to talk to Tyler, he ends up looking like he just got mugged by some thugs in an alley> There’s coincidence, then there are just straight-up consequences.

And I just can’t shake the feeling I might be somewhat complicit...

“Gonna go visit him?” I asked.

*It’s one of my plans,” She muttered, going back to swiping and walking. “Later, though.”

Welp, guess I know what I’m doing later in the day, then.

And indeed, with Amanda hastening on leaving, I decided there was no better time to make myself scarce too. We both took the elevator down together, any attempts at conversation abruptly cut short by the incessant beeping of her phone.

“You skip one day of filming, and the entire production gets stalled indefinitely,” She sighed away her exasperations, echoing dully across the four cramped walls. “An entire afternoon of auditions again. Joy.”

“Oh yeah, that happened, didn’t it?” I said, the fiasco of yesterday’s shoot nearly slipping my mind. “Half our cast of characters are missing, you think you’ll find more in time before the year’s out?”

Amanda pursed her lips, only half-listening in favor of typing. “It’s only an Elf, an Elidna, Terestra. We’ll get by. Besides, I might have an idea for the Elf, and if the Director gives the okay, we might be shooting again pretty soon. Oh, you’ll be involved too.”

“Yes, of course,” I said, already accepting my fate of being forever chained to the whims of this mess. “But more about the Elf. Who do you have in mind to play the-?”

An even sharper focus, and even more hasty swipings have got me trailing off in fear of pestering. If nothing else, this girl’s got passion in abundance for the project.

The lift gave a ring, and the doors parted open, with Amanda the first to scurry out like a bat out of hell, unflinching even in the face of the freezing outdoors.

Already making her way to her car, I sufficed myself with just a casual wave of goodbye, but I guess my voice must have snapped her out of a stupor or something, because the next thing I knew, she was turning right around and zooming at me faster than I could blink.

“Kill me if I don’t properly say goodbye to you again, alright?” Amanda told me, appalled at herself, before swarming me with kisses.

“Busy day,” I attempted to soothe things over. “You’re allowed to forget one or two things.”

“Never you,” She said, squeezing me in an embrace so warm and tender. “Thank you for last night. I just realized I never thanked you yet either, did I? Oh, I’m such a terrible girlfriend...”

“Terrible? You?” I scoffed, kissing her right back. “Never you.”

A bit of the intensity in her gaze had oozed away, I noticed. Amanda slowly released me from her arms, striding off again only this time with a lovely parting smile.

“Get home safe, okay?”

Taking her advice to heart, that’s precisely what I did. The thick, white canvas that used to lay asphalt streets was quite tricky to traverse through. The first day of snowfall and yet there was enough coating the entire city to have poured for a month.

The sluggish journey back home was occupied by meandering thoughts. First and foremost, I’d love a proper explanation regarding Tyler’s less-than-ideal condition. Once informed, I’m sure Adalia also wouldn’t mind shedding some light on the issue with her sister either.

Yep, straight home, the first thing on the list. Or so I had planned anyway. Life, on the other hand, decided there were more pressing things for me to deal with at the present moment.

Like the fact that there was a complete stranger’s car parked directly outside the entrance to my house. Expensive-looking, posh-looking, and very business-looking.

The windshield had snow lightly peppered across its glossy surface, which means it was only just recently parked there. Footprints engraved in the snow lead to a direct path from the driver-side door all the way to the rickety steps of my porch, and if the shape of the imprints were anything to go by... the owner must have some fancy shoes.

Doubt anyone could have gotten far with Ash standing by, which means it had to be someone I knew that was here, and by extension, someone that she knew too.

Idling by on my bike, I pulled out my phone and instantly confirmed my suspicions. Ash had already tried to inform me while I was on the road, I just hadn’t seen it yet.

I tapped open her message, feeling the slight anticipation of finally putting a face to this mystery car owner. With squinted eyes, I read through the glare of sunlight, and slowly, gradually, I could feel my brows furrowing in pure bewilderment.

Suffice it to say, if I had suspected anyone... I certainly wasn’t expecting this in the least.

Through a haphazard array of emojis unnecessarily strewn across every word, I read:

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