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Trevor hesitated, torn between James' pale face and bloody side, and the need to stop the killer before he could strike again. James had been such an annoyance, so often in the way of this whole investigation. How often had he done just the wrong thing, said just the wrong thing, at the worst time? But the bond they had forged had solidified into a deep friendship that Trevor ... had to ignore. His duty was not just to James, but to everyone who might get hurt if he made the wrong choice.

"Go," James repeated. "Hurry!"

Trevor turned and ran for all he was worth. Each step took him further from James, but spurred by his friend's faith that he would prevail. He had to catch the fiend.

Turning a corner, he found the villain climbing a fence, slowed by the odd shape of the links. Instead of climbing the fence itself, Trevor climbed a near-by wall, using the fire escape ladder as leverage to reach the top of the fence moments after his quarry. He jumped after the murderer, landing on him as he tried to run away. Both men sprawled, but Trevor regained his feet first, plowing into the other man, and threw a punch hard enough to break the other's nose. "That's for James," Trevor snarled. Then he spun him around and cuffed him before he could react. "And this is for everyone else." He took a second set of cuffs out and cuffed a foot to the fence. "Stay," Trevor ordered, rather unnecessarily as the perpetrator was not going to be able to go anywhere.

Trevor returned the way he had come, relieved to see ambulance lights flashing ahead of him. He caught up to the ambulance just as James was being loaded into the rear on a stretcher. James looked at Trevor, but couldn't summon the strength to ask the question aloud.

Trevor answered anyway. "I got him, James. He will pay for what he has done, and he won't be killing any more."

James closed his eyes in satisfaction. Trevor turned anxious eyes to the medic climbing in behind the stretcher. She patted his shoulder with a smile, and said, "He's lost a lot of blood, but we've got him now. He's got a good chance for a full recovery."

Trevor let out a breath of relief so great he felt like he'd been unable to breathe at all until that moment, as he watched the ambulance drive away. Then he turned back to complete his duty before visiting James in the hospital. They had a lot to talk about, but there would be time for all that. Plenty of time.

Trevor knew he had most definitely signed up for things just like this, when he accepted his job.
He was holding a man in his arms, who was bleeding out fast.
This man was not a stranger, but someone who had been in his way for awhile now.
"You shouldn't have come here tonight...." He heard the reply to that come out as a blood-drowned gurgle.
The ambulance lights flashed, and it was all surreal. Trevor was numb. He had let the Bandit King shoot someone who had become such a friend to him.
All because he hadn't hid well enough and a flunky found him outside.
No, no. James shouldn't have gotten into all this, anyways.
You could tell that didn't ease the guilt in Trevor's stomach.
As the ambulance drove away again, and the other detectives and members of the force started swarming the scene, he somehow stumbled back into his car.
Suddenly, gun shots could be heard.
Immediately Trevor was hurled back into his body. He hopped out of his seat, and ran towards the shots, as every other officer had. It was inside the warehouse!
A man in uniform who was vaguely familiar, came up to Trevor just outside it, and hugged him!
"WE GOT HIM!" There was so much confusion. So much relief?
After five long, frustrating minutes of people yelling, and asking and answering, it became clear what had happened.
When the Flunky had been arrested, and everyone thought the Bandit King had made his escape as usual, he hadn't.
He was waiting in the very back behind some barrels, in the warehouse it went down in. It was clearly someone's personal storage.
There was an officer down, but only from a fist to the face.
They had shot at the "Big bk(Bandit King)", and got a kneecap when he attempted to reach for his pockets.
The officer had surprised him, searching so many nooks and crannies. The arrest was underway at that very second, inside.


"We can only assume he was waiting until we left to sneak back to wherever his hideout that night was. Yeah. Yeah!"
It had been about six months since the incident in the warehouse, and Trevor was catching up with James.
He had pulled through, but had to have a lot of corrective surgery to his face(the officer wasn't the only one to get hit that night), and go through physical therapy in his left arm and right leg, thanks to the bullet wounds.
"Ok, Bye."
After hanging up the phone, he turned on the tellie.
A reporter was saying something about a new school policy or something.
Then, his cell rang.
"Hey...Sure." Trevor promptly got up, put on his jacket and left.
If you had decided to follow him, you'd have known he went to James' house.
They had decided to ave coffee, like they do every morning now.
At about 10:14 am. Sometimes they wait until 10:20, even.
Well... that's all I know, Bk.
Don't worry, I'll still get them. Just waiting for the right time.
Signed; flunky #2856473a9

All he could hear was the sound of his footsteps slapping against the pavement and his ragged breath. The hot air of the summer night was stifling and sweat pour down his face. His eyes were focused on the dark figure running ahead of him through the alley way. Trevor put on an extra burst of speed, trying to close the distance between him and that monster. No, not a monster. The serial killer had a name now: Derick Johnson. Everything that had happened till now had led up to this single chase. All his hours of work, all the late nights and near scuffles with James...

His pace faltered as memories blinded him momentarily. James lying in a puddle of blood next to the civilian that had been caught in the cross fire. His white shirt, always so neat, had been a soaking mess of red. His coughing was wet, but the police officer had still managed to talk. The civilian could only whimper in pain.

Trevor blinked away the sudden influx of memories and fixed his running stride. Now wasn’t the time to get distracted. Distraction was what had gotten James shot with that civilian. There hadn’t been time to help the civvy. James had asked him to, but he had spent decades in the military and knew a fatal wound when he saw one. All he could do now was catch the b*****d that had ordered the hit on them. If not for them, then for the twelve innocent men and woman who were now dead because of that man.

Ahead, Johnson rounded a corner. Trevor forced his body to speed up even more. He couldn’t lose this guy. Not now. Skidding around the corner, he slammed into an arm and immediately went down. He gasped for air, momentarily dazed. A glint of silver appeared above him and he quickly rolled away. A spark lit up the dark alley as the knife that had been aimed at his chest struck asphalt.

Trevor scrambled to his feet and dodged another swipe of the knife. His chest began to sting; the knife had grazed him. He tugged on his gun, but the damn thing wouldn’t come out of the holster. Some detached part of his mind noted that the fall must have broken or pinched part of it.

He jumped backwards, struggling to keep distance between him and the killer. He couldn’t stay on the defensive like this. He was a sitting duck if he didn’t change things. Dodging another swipe, his posture suddenly shifted. He relaxed, letting his training wash over him like a cool breeze. He held his ground and waited. Johnson was cocky, even more so now that the cut on Trevor’s chest was openly bleeding. Trevor didn’t have to wait long.

The attack came as quickly as the others. A quick jab that was surely going to be followed up with a swipe. Trevor wouldn’t let the murderer get that chance. He grabbed the killer’s wrist and twisted it hard. There was a popping sound and the man screamed out in sudden pain. The knife fell to the ground and Trevor quickly kicked it away. Johnson backed away, clutching at his broken wrist.

“You son of a b*tch. You broke my hand!!” Johnson hissed.

He began to reach for something, but Trevor quickly slammed in the man and punched him in the face. He followed it up with a swift kick to the groin. No one ever said you had to fight clean and Trevor damn well hoped he did lasting damage. Johnson collapsed onto the ground and Trevor roughly grabbed his arms. In a single smooth motion, he snapped his handcuffs onto the b*****d. For good measure, he punched the man in the face again.

Sweat poured down Trevor’s face as he pinned Johnson to the ground with a knee and searched the killer for weapons. To no surprised, he found numerous knives. “I can see why you had to use drugs on all those people. It’s the only way you could kill them because you sure as hell wouldn’t have won in a fight with any of them.” Whatever Johnson was going to say was lost in the swelling of his face and lips.

Grimly, Trevor pulled out his phone. He needed a squad car and some backup hauling this guy in. More importantly, he needed to know if James was even still alive...

“...Trevor, please. You’re the only one I can count on, the only one I can trust.”
“I know. I promise that I’ll catch him.”

With those last words, Trevor left the room while James silently watched.

James was hospitalized after his run-in with the Bandit King, and he was put on probation and forbidden to take action. Though Trevor didn’t agree with James’ rash ways, he too, wanted to stop the Bandit King from hurting any more innocent people. His first stop was to the previous crime scene, where James fought the Bandit King. Trevor hoped to find a clue as to what the Bandit King’s next plan was, and what he did with his hostages, but he knew that it wouldn’t be that easy….

….but it actually was. Amongst the scattered papers, faint traces of blood, and broken chairs, Trevor spotted a large piece of wood. He carefully stepped around shattered glass--another clear sign of the prior struggle--and made his way to the board. Though the board wasn’t extremely eye catching, Trevor knew that it was not originally at the crime scene.

This was definitely not here before…”

The first thing he noticed were the ominous, bloody words scrawled on it.

“DO YOU WANT TO WIN
THIS SAD GAME OF LIFE AND DEATH?
THEN FIND ME AT ‘HOME’”

After he read the message, Trevor started to think out loud. With James hospitalized, he had no one to bounce ideas and hypotheses off of, so he had to make do with the hollow echoes in the building as his partner.

“Of course the Bandit King thinks of this as a game. How could he possibly find enjoyment in this? But….but this the wording must matter. Though he may be evil, the Bandit King is also cunning.” He started to pace.

“So, if this was a game, “home” would probably be where the character lives, or where they restock on items. For the Bandit King...we burnt down his old hideout, and it’s under 24/7 surveillance, so there’s no way he’s going back there.
Maybe he means the home of his next target? But that doesn’t make sense, why would he do that, especially now that we’ve called in extra security for the families in danger? Unless...it’s at the house of the previous victim!

“That would even explain the wording! Before this case, that house was used as a “homebase” for the victim’s work group… I’ll call Boss, maybe he can check if anyone strange has shown up over there.” Trevor nodded, confident in his choice. Quickly, he snapped a picture of the board, and sent it to his boss.

His boss replied almost instantaneously.

Got it. Let’s go check out the house tonight. I’ll get the rest of the squad ready.

….also, was that message a haiku?

Trevor decided to ignore the second part of his boss’s text.

----- sorry i can’t finish so the rest is really bad LOL
They reach the house, and there is another message waiting for them.

“wrong ‘home’”

“where is his heart? there is his home”

Trevor shared a confused look with his boss.

“Uh, well, home is where the heart is?”

“That’s not helpful, Boss.”

“Then...where is whose heart?”

Realization dawned on the two of them.

“It’s James….he’s at the hospital! He’s the ‘family’ that’s in trouble!”

They hurry over to the hospital. From the outside, everything seemed fine….but once they reached the front desk, they could tell that something was amiss.

“There’s no one here,” Trevor stated. His boss nodded in response. Without further ado, they go to James’ room.

But they were too late. When they reached the room, everything was destroyed, and James was nowhere to be found. On the window, written in blood were the words:

“GAME OVER”

Alex and Taylor had already had so many problems on their way to meet. They knew it would be worth it, but Alex was having doubts and Taylor was getting impatient!
Taylor's phone came up on Alex's cell... A call coming through again!
"Hello?"
"Hey... Almost there! Did you pass the statue?"
"Yeah!! Call me again when we see each other's cars?"
Taylor said ok and hung up. Alex was so nervous he was sweating!

Taylor had been parked for a few seconds, and saw the red jeep pull up. That had to be Alex! FINALLY. Taylor looked for a few more, to make sure it really was. Then hopped out of his car and almost ran to the jeep.
Inside, Alex didn't even see Taylor come up to the window, at first!
Taylor knocked on the door, lightly. Alex was obviously surprised at first, but quickly a small smile spread on his face.

Alex motioned for Taylor to get in on the passenger side, any nervousness giving way into excitement! It felt like they had done this a million times before, for him.
"Wow. Hi!" Taylor chirped.
"Hi again!!! We headed to the park, then?"
"Yup!"
They pulled out, with plans to come back to this spot everytime from this point on. A friendship that would last a long ten years, from the four online to the last six years where it was semi-online semi-IRL.

Then, on a day in September, it was becoming bitter cold, much earlier than usual. Alex was sitting at the park, where they had sat so many times, together. Talking, swapping gaming advice, gf stories. Watching the couples, friends, and lovers walk past them. A tear fell. But it was a joyful one. Tinged, but joyful.
If they hadn't both faced all those hurdles JUST to see each other, he wouldn't have ever gotten to know someone that completed him on such a platonic level. Maybe he would have, but not so closely.
He whispered to himself something about how thankful he was to know someone so fragile, and got in his car to go back home.
He double checked his seatbelt was clicked, though. Taylor always forgot that...

Alex drove down the highway, pressing the edges of the legal speed limit. His focus alternated between the speedometer, the road, and the time. He had even turned the radio down, so he could keep his concentration on the road. He was running late for his meet up with Taylor. Although they had been friends and pen pals for more than a decade online, this was the first time they were meeting in person. In fact, this was the first time Alex was meeting IRL someone he had met online.

He glanced down at the clock again and groaned aloud. This trip was going terribly. First, he had blown a tire only a few hours into the trip. Then later that day, he got a call from the bank about identity fraud, which meant he had to freeze his primary credit card. He ended up having to sleep in his car because he wanted to save the small amount of cash he had in his wallet for when he met up with Taylor. It was only a miracle that nothing had happened to his gas card or else he would have been really screwed.

Alex rubbed his eyes and straightened a little in his seat. Sleeping in the car the night before was far from comfortable and he had ended up sleeping through his alarm. His eyes glanced to his phone; the one connection he had to Taylor. He’d been texting Taylor from day one of the trip and had learned that Taylor had been having difficulties as well. He was a bit worried since he hadn’t received a text back today from his online buddy. All he could do was go to the meet up and hope his friend was there.

The town they were meeting in was called Willow Springs and was the exact middle point between Alex’s home and Taylor’s. In the town, Alex was going to meet with Taylor at a place called ‘Will’s Diner’ and they were going to hang out for a couple of days. Apparently, the town had some silly fun stuff the two could do as well.

The scattered trees of the flat landscape passed by unexcitedly. At one point, Alex turned the music back on out of sheer boredom. Solo road trips sucked. Almost as much as the weird radio stations he was forced to listen to along the way. When his phone’s GPS finally spoke up and stated they were twenty minutes away from their destination, Alex nearly praised the sun in relief and joy.

Turning off the highway, he took the exit that led to the town. The area must have been filled with farmers because rows up rows of corn filled the fields. Ahead, Alex spotted a hitchhiker walking down the road towards the town. He frowned. It was a pretty hot and humid day; it would be absolutely miserable having to walk so far. Warnings buzzed in head about serial killer hitchhikers and conmen, but it was the middle of the day and as he passed he saw that the walker was just a normal dude. Nothing sketchy. So, Alex did something he had never done before. He pulled over and backed up to the hitchhiker.

“Hey stranger.” The window rolled down the full length as Alex held down the button, “Where you headed?”

The stranger, just a few years older than him, came over and leaned down. His skin, tan, was starting to hint at red as a sun burn began to set in. The stranger’s face was flush and sweaty from walking. A backpack, just the small normal school variety, was hung over one of his shoulders.

“Willow Springs.” The stranger’s voice was startling deep. A little bit like gravel.

“I’m headed there too. Hop on in.”

“Thank you!”

The stranger opened the door, slung the backpack off, and sat inside. He placed the backpack at his feet and closed the door. The relief was clear on the stranger’s face as Alex turned the AC up a notch. Up close, Alex could see that the hitchhiker was mildly dirty. It almost looked like the guy had been walking through the cornfields and there was a long tear in the man’s jeans near his calf.

“Are you okay?” Alex shifted gears and started down the road again. He glanced at the guy’s ripped jeans to clarify what he meant.

The stranger followed his gaze and rested his head on the back of the car seat with a sigh. “Ugh, yeah, I’m good. I’ve just had the worst day. I really appreciate you offering me a ride. I was starting to think that no one would stop.”

Alex chuckled dryly, “No problem. I’ve been having a miserable couple of days too. I could use the good karma. So, what happened? I mean, if you don’t mind saying. I figure a story will make the twenty minutes to town go faster.”

“Heh, man, where do I start.” The stranger ran a hand through his hair and then adjusted one of the AC vents, “First, my phone’s charger broke yesterday and so my phone has been dead since last night. Then today, I’m driving down one of the side roads to get to town and my car blows a freaking gasket. Not being able to call triple A or anything, I start walking towards this farm house to maybe ask to use their phone. Maybe call a taxi or something, right?”

Alex nodded, his gaze on the road, but his attention on the story. The stranger continued, “By the time I get there, I’m hot, sweaty, and tired. I’m just about to approach the porch when I hear this wild barking. Then, this huge a** German Shepherd comes out from around the house and freaking charges me! I start scrambling away, but the dog grabs the leg of my jeans and starts pulling. I’m trying to pull away too and the next thing I know I hear a tearing sound as my jeans rip.” The hitchhiker gestures widely as he speaks, “Long story short, I’m able to run into the cornfield and get away from the dog. I’m lucky I didn’t get lost in there. I had to use the water tower near town as a marker and eventually I was able to find the road. You know the rest.”

Done with his story, the hitchhiker slumped back in his seat and sighed again. Alex shook his head in disbelief, “Dude, that’s crazy. You’re lucky that dog didn’t bite you.”

The stranger nodded, “I know, right? I swear I’ve never run as fast in my life as I did away from that dog.” He laughed.

Alex laughed with him. He was relieved that this guy seemed normal and not at all what he had imagined a hitchhiker to be like. It was also nice to know that even though Alex had been having such a terribly time with his trip that things could have been way worse. The stranger had definitely been through quite the adventure.

The hitchhiker glanced at the time and groaned. “Ugh, I’m totally late.”

Alex lifted a brow, “Late?” He was actually running late for his meeting with Taylor as well. He’d shot his friend a text message earlier letting him know, but Taylor still hadn’t responded.

“Yeah, I’m meeting with a friend.” The stranger stared ahead at the near approaching town. “Hey, there’s a diner in town that I was supposed to meet my friend at. It’s called Will’s Diner. Do you think you could drop me off there?”

Alex stared widely at the stranger and then quickly returned his attention to the road. It couldn’t be. No way. He cleared his throat, “This is crazy, but I’m meeting my friend at that diner too. Is... Is your name Taylor by chance?”

The stranger stared at him as widely as he had earlier, “Oh my god, no way. Are you Alex?!”

Exhilarated and surprised, Alex started to laugh. “Yeah! I can’t believe this. What are the odds of me picking you up on the side of the road? This is insane.”

Taylor started to laugh as hard as he was, “This entire time I’ve been wondering why your voice sounded familiar... I can’t believe this.” He wiped a tear from his eye, “Dude, I’m so glad to finally meet you. This is just...This is so crazy.”

“I know!” Alex laughed.


The two friends were grinning ear to ear like idiots when they finally pulled into town and found the diner. They had agreed that food was a must, and then afterwards they would go to a mechanic to call for a tow truck for Taylor’s car. Sitting in the diner, Alex had filled Taylor in on the text messages that he had sent. Likewise, Taylor had explained what else had happened on his car trip. Eventually their laughter had subsided and their food arrived.

Alex shook his head and chuckled again as he swirled his drink with the straw. Across from him, Taylor was wolfing down a burger. The guy deserved one after all the excitement with the dog and the cornfield

Before this trip, Alex had been pretty unsure about meeting someone from online face to face. So much could go wrong. What if he hadn’t liked Taylor in real life or things got awkward? Even worse, the road trip here had been an utter disaster, for both of them. But now, seeing his friend still grinning from the revelation in the car, Alex knew it was worth it. The trip to hang out with his friend wasn’t even over, yet he was already looking forward to the next one.

ALEX: where are u now?

TAYLOR: uhhHh maybe an hour or so past the bus stop
TAYLOR: how about u?

ALEX: too far :/

TAYLOR: haha just a bit longer! keep it up

ALEX: you too

Sighing, Taylor locks his phone and slides it into his pocket smoothly. The familiar routine of checking for messages, replying to Alex, and locking his phone had become tiring. How long has it been? Nine, ten days? Maybe two weeks?

This quick meet-up was far more work than they thought it would be. Taylor’s parents agreed to this whole “cross country journey” thing, but they had no idea how long it would take. On the other hand, Alex had to sneak out of his house for this.

….What a mess.

TAYLOR: downtown metro system, blue line, right?

ALEX: yep

That phrase had been continuously repeating in his head, over and over and over again.

Downtown. Metro System. Blue Line.

The final destination -- where he was supposed to meet his best friend of seven years for the first time.

When they were first deciding the meeting place, Alex had thrown out the idea of meeting at a train station as a joke.

“where paths cross, right? lol” he’d typed out.

But the idea was strangely fitting. Two best friends, separated by thousands of miles, finally able to meet where thousands of people, thousands of trains, all join together for a brief moment in time.

TAYLOR: hey, i have a quick question

ALEX: ?

TAYLOR: ...
TAYLOR: was this really a good idea?
TAYLOR: i mean, won’t your parents be mad?
ALEX: well
TAYLOR: i don’t want you to get in trouble :c

ALEX: they don’t really care what i do lol
ALEX: so don’t worry a/b it :)

Currently, Taylor was sitting in the trunk of a battered truck, chugging along highway 46. The old man driving the truck was kind enough to let him hitchhike until the state line.

From there, he’d have to cross exactly 24 rivers, 2 lakes, 7 borders, and 6,231 more mickey d's before meeting up at the downtown metro station (blue line). Of course, the numbers would shift depending on if he had to walk, or bike, or hitchhike, or stowaway, or whatever….

But no matter the distance, it would be worth it, because he would finally be able to meet Alex.

TAYLOR: im glad we’re friends~

ALEX: lolol what a sap
ALEX: ...
ALEX: me 2 tho

TAYLOR: see you soon!
TAYLOR: be safe c:

One Last Time

The phone vibrated a fifth time within a minute. In the dark bedroom, Stephanie saw rays of white and green light contouring a flat chest. She brought the phone closer to her face, the wall of messages covering a drunken selfie of Cory: wild red curls wrapped around his head like a brushfire. He took her advice on having one stray curl dangle across his oily forehead. She didn't know why he remembered that, of all the things she had told him through their innumerable Skype meetings.

Steph talk to me pls.
The producer wanted a singer-songwriter.
I need this job.

I need you.

Her hand clenched tightly around the phone. As Stephanie typed out her rant, her fingers inadvertently picked up his incoming call.

“Steph, I'm-”
“You want me to write another song for you to steal?”
“I'll explain everything at the Lounge.” He replied in a hurry. She could hear him tapping on the body of his guitar, a nervous habit. “Trust me. One last time, please.”

Stephanie ended the call without a goodbye, falling back on the bed with a sigh. One last time. He had a habit of making everything the last: the last text, last drink. Last song. But this time felt different. She closed her eyes and pretended to feel tired, eventually swinging her feet off the bed and heading to her car.

...

The rustic clapboard interior of the Lounge was adorned with photographs of old performances. Stephanie followed the length of the wall, the black and white faces of musicians smiling at her in the dim light. The realization that she would never be up there settled on her like dust, quiet and unnoticed. She half expected to find Cory’s newly shaven face staring back at her.

His shameless introduction all those nights ago was stuck on repeat in her mind. This is a song I wrote. It’s called “One Last Time.” The song she spent hours on end trying to find the right words for. The song that was supposed to be her songwriting debut. The song admitting everything she felt for him.

She rounded the corner of the wall. The sound of fingers drumming against a guitar emanated from the unlit stage, followed by a distinct singsong baritone. A small spotlight illuminated a head of fiery red hair.

“I’m not one for conversation, but I can’t stop talking ‘bout you.”

Cory looked up from the fretboard and held Stephanie’s gaze for as long as he could. She didn’t stare at him for long, eventually fixing her cold gaze on his strumming hand. The line he sang was painfully familiar to her, but the words that followed weren’t.

They were his own.

“In my desperation, I’ll always find my way back to you.” The strings squeaked quietly as he slid his hand across the frets. He was smiling at her now, watching her icy stare melting with every new line. “Cause I need you. I need you.

“Yours is the only song I’ll play in my mind, repeating all the time.”

Cory remembered why he didn’t write music. Across his room, a small trash can overflowed with crumpled sheets of rejected lyrics. In front of him was a sheet of paper where he crossed out every line he had written - except hers. He was terrible with words. His hand immediately went to his phone the moment he saw Stephanie’s name.

You don’t need me.
Anyone can write a song, but not everyone can sing as good as you.

“Cause I need you. One last time. Yeah, I need you.” Cory strummed a slow, final note before giving Stephanie a sheepish smile. She stood by the stage apron, a mix of regret and astonishment written all over her face.

“You...you really did write that song.”
“Yeah. Except for the first line.” He said. “Wait a little longer before you walk out on me next time.”
“But what about the job?”
“I didn’t take it.” Cory mumbled, punctuating it with a laugh when he caught her frowning. “I don't want a job where I can't be with you.” He took a seat on the apron, shifting to make room for her. They looked down at their dangling feet, smiling as they thought of how far they’ve come. And it was only the beginning.

“C’mon, help me write the rest of it.“ Cory said finally, nudging her with his elbow. Stephanie grabbed the guitar from behind him, her fingers absentmindedly brushing against the neck before handing it over.
“So you can steal it?”
“Exactly.”

At length, she rested her head against his shoulder, letting the melodic sound of his guitar stretch their minutes into lifetimes.

She was waiting for him just as he knew she would be. He had walked out onto a stage in front of hundreds of staring people countless times, but none of that had made him as nervous as he was now as he walked towards her. Although the day was beautiful, the park private, lush, and quiet, Cory’s hands were clammy. He wiped them repeatedly on his jeans. Sitting on the bench ahead of him, Steph patiently waited for him to near.

“H-Hey.” He managed as a greeting. He stared at the spot next to her on the bench. Should he sit? What if she didn’t want him to? Indecision wrestled through his mind and so he just awkwardly stood there.

She carefully watched his lips as he spoke and then replied, “Hey.”

He stared at her, trying to think of what to say next. Her tone of voice, her expression, none of it gave him any indication as to what she was thinking. Or maybe it did. Even after his months of performing throughout the country, he still wasn’t good with people.

“I got your text to meet up.” She said after a few eternities of silence.

“Y-Y-Yeah. I j-j-ust...” His nerves were making him speak faster and his stutter was even worse than normal. He could see her brow furrow in concentration as she struggled to read his lips. He took a deep breath and began slower, “I j-just wanted to t...talk.” Cory wiped his hands on his jeans again, “A-And apologize.”

He had so much to apologize for. Their first meeting had been a disaster. He had said such stupid things.

At the time, he was still new to the music business and had been focusing so hard on not screwing up. He would get up on stage, sing the songs given to him, and then hope his stuttering in interviews wouldn’t kill his career. Cory had been insanely stressed when his manager had pulled him in to meet the person who had been writing his songs.

When he finally met Steph, he was utterly shocked to find out she was deaf. All the stress finally made him snapped and during the meeting he said something so, so stupid. God, he didn’t even know why he said it, especially when he didn’t even mean any of it. In that meeting, he had turned to his manager and asked why the hell his career was riding on a songwriter who couldn’t even hear music. It was such a stupid remark and he had regretted it immediately after.

The damage was done though; he had been lucky that Steph hadn’t quit right there. The next day, he had to leave to his next show and couldn’t even speak to her in person. Instead, all he could do was beg his manager for her number and text her. He lost track of how many times he apologized to her over the next few months. None of the texts had stop the rot of regret eating away at his heart and he knew he had to apologize to her in person. When he finally got a gig back in her city, he had sent her another text asking to meet with her. She had been the one to choose the park they were in now.

He stared at her, more awkward silence passing. He could see she was about to say something. Before he could lose whatever strength guiding him, Cory blurted out, “I-I’m s-s-sorry! I-I-“ His words came out in a stuttering heap, a reflection of his emotions. Becoming even more flustered, Cory struggled to focus on his words. God, this was going horrible already; his stutter, as always, was making a mess of things.

Desperate, he glanced around to make sure no one was nearby. Seeing no one, he turned to her, the red of his cheeks darkening. It was embarrassing, but this was the only way for him to communicate clearly. Hesitating only a moment, Cory began to sing his words. “I never meant a word of what I said the first time we met. I was a stressed out idiot and I took it out on you. I know that doesn't make what I did all right. I still don’t know why I even said what I did. I love every one of the songs you’ve written for me. Not just because the crowd likes them, but because I love how you put your heart and soul into each of them. I could never in a million years write anything like that. I know I’m lucky to have you and I was such an a** when we met before. I’m so, so sorry.” He finished, slightly breathless from the song. He had sung it slow, wanting her to catch every single word and emotion. Wanting her to understand what a text message could never convey.

Many moments passed as he stood there, head slightly bowed, waiting for her judgement. Whatever she said next, he would accept.

“I forgive you. I had actually forgiven you a couple of months after you started texting me.” Cory stared at her eyes wide as she continued to speak, “After that first meeting, I have to admit I was really upset. I thought for sure that I was going to get fired and your words had really hurt me. Even when you apologized in that first text, I was still upset. But as you continued to send me those texts, I realized that you were sincere when you said you didn’t mean what you had said that day. And I really appreciate you apologizing to me in person like this.”

Cory stared at her, too surprised to respond. She had already forgiven him? He opened his mouth and then closed it. He couldn’t think of any words to say. Sensing this, Steph suddenly smiled and gave him the words he was searching for, “How about we start over completely? A new first meeting. Hi, I’m Steph.” She held out her hand.

He stared at it for a few seconds and then shook it with his own. “H-Hi, I’m Cory.”