Part Of Leyla Had Wanted To Get A Place On Her Own, Close Herself Off Completely At The End Of A Long

Leyla laughed as they both moved for her phone, navigating around each other to not go full comedy of errors. Stopping, she let him get it, just holding her hand out for it. "Thank you. I invest in solid cases, not the first time my phone has hit the ground," she said with a warm smile as she brushed some grass and dirt off it, "but our conversation was done anyway, my employees probably wish you'd bumped into me earlier." She laughed again before teasing, "so you think you can manage to get that where you're going without taking out small children along the way or do you need some help?"

“Oh!” Vince said quickly as he realized she had dropped her phone. He tried to strategically move down to grab it, swerving his body quickly enough so that they wouldn’t bump into each other again, making a bigger mess of things. He laughed and grinned. “Hope the phone’s not too damaged, though. You can say there was a big doofus who doesn’t look where he’s going which is why the call got interrupted,” he chuckled.

"Sentences with technically don't usually end well," she murmured, knowing 'but' was coming. Leyla chose to live with roommates, so she had expected they might actually want to be her friend. It didn't make it easy for her to let people in, feeling like that always came with a big sign that said 'I'm broken, please find out why.' With a sigh and only a hint of a smile, she set her book aside. "Okay," she relented, placing her hat down on her chair to hold it before putting her hair in a low ponytail. "I'll play frisbee with you if you don't laugh when I'm bad at it."

"I mean, technically it is a beach activity." One she could see herself doing on a more quiet day, but on a day like today, she preferred more lively activities. "But there are a few more fun things to do. Maybe we should build a sandcastle? Or wait no- how about we toss a frisbee around?" she suggested, with a grin. She knew Leyla often kept to herself, but it wouldn't stop Aisha from trying to get her to hang out with her. She'd win her over and befriend her, eventually.

If you're forgetting that iconic moment, then you definitely should. Oh, those are good too, I'm not sure there's a bad favorite to have. Except Cathy, and I don't think anyone liked her. You need better friends if they don't jump at the idea to go as a The Office ensemble, I'm kidding. I still say it's a good idea. It would, but maybe not red blood because bananas wouldn't bleed red, would they? Maybe get some freeze-dried bananas and put little pieces over your costume and maybe a yellow-er food coloring for the 'blood'.

Ahh, how could I forget about Kevin with the chili?! Now I feel like I should rewatch the whole show. Think that it’s a tie between Creed and Michael. Can never decide between the two! But yours are pretty great. Stanley is really underrated. It’ll be tough to try and get a group to help me out, but I’ll give it a shot. I mean, it’ll be a unique horror costume, no? Add a little of blood paint on me, and I will win any contest. 

"You're welcome," she replied with a warm smile, enjoying the glimpses she got into the joy of others. "Do you have any weird cravings? Things you're sending your boyfriend out for at all hours?"

"Exactly," she said as Alice understood the concept perfectly. "No one has to explain why they do or don't want, they can just enjoy the experience." Then she laughed and added, "and no fake IDs needed." How many kids would benefit from not dipping their toes into vices well before they should? She wasn't under the delusion it would stop that completely, but maybe it would help. "My favorite depends on my mood, the strawberry basil went I'm looking for refreshing, the lavender lemonade when it's been a long day, the Galaxy when I'm feeling fun...it's sort of like picking a favorite child. Can't seem to do it."

“You’re so sweet, thank you!” Alice gushed. She was blushing a bit. “I feel pretty good, actually. I’m happy that things have gone smoothly, and aside from the swollen ankles and being hungry all the time, I really am happy!”

She nodded. “You’re welcome, and I’m always happy to help!” Alice said with a smile. “It’s a nice concept,” she said, and sipped her drink as she listened to Leyla. “That’s a good way of thinking,” she told her. “And people choose to drink or not to drink for different reasons. So it opens up opportunities for more people to have that kind of experience. “Or if someone is under 21, and they want to have a fancy night out, right? Give them fun atmosphere and some good mocktails and they’ll feel right at home,” she hummed. She knew when she was younger she could use a place like this instead of trying to sneak into bars with her friends. Some nights they didn’t even drink, they just wanted to have fun. “Do you have a favorite item on the menu or is that a secret?” She grinned.

She wanted more for him, same as she wanted from him. It was six months ten years ago, and she could still remember every bit of it. If she let it, her mind would trick her into believing he was safe again. That was the thing about Vitus, though. She would push him, say things that would piss off any other person, and he'd only acknowledge it in his own quiet, self-destructive way. Sometimes, she almost wished he wasn't sorry because it would make the truth so much easier to bear.

But he was. It just didn't take it away: the pain, the anger, the feeling that if she'd been somebody else it wouldn't have happened. She wasn't the first, though, and by the looks of his face, not the last. He left a wake behind him, and that's what she fought against. It's why she couldn't forgive him. "So you've already done your damage, haven't you?" She asked, venom draining momentarily from her words. She almost wanted the anger back, then she wouldn't feel so...sad.

Once upon a time, he'd have held her when she felt this way and all the broken pieces would have just slid right back into place. Like a puzzle. But that's all it was...a Once Upon a Time, a fairytale, a happily ever after that never gets finished. The book just closes on all the unanswered questions. "Yeah," she muttered, "it's a safe place. The kind of place I wanted growing up--the kind of place we would have benefitted from. Where people are kind, know you, accept you...it's warm." It wasn't a reflection of her, thank goodness, but it was the dream. It was the little girl she'd been once. It was for her.

How did he do that? Even when she hated him, she told him things. "Listen, I know I said some things last we talked that I--I shouldn't have said," in the closest thing to an apology he would get, "but you broke me. Do you know what it's like to go to bed one night the happiest you've ever been in your life and the next day, it's...gone? Trust doesn't grow back the same when it's ripped from you, the innocent, naive belief that the person who loves you can't possibly hurt you--would be absolutely incapable of it--it doesn't come back. And whether I get hit by a bus tomorrow or live past 100, I think I'll hate you forever for that. For saying you loved me and all the ways that wasn't enough--for making me believe that meant I wasn't enough."

He'd lost entire days with Leyla, but he hadn't lost her. He remembered small details, and they came into sharper focus the more she talked, reaching with her voice to tug them loose. Details like her father's name, Rahim; her birthday, late May; the roses he had woken her with the morning she turned twenty-four. Vitus rubbed his sternum while she spoke, like he could still feel her after all these years.

And she could still feel him too, it seemed, because she turned the last sentence into a projectile and struck him right across the face with it. A wince tangled his expression.

"I'm..." Sorry. But he'd already said that, so many times, and she'd never wanted to hear it. He couldn't ease Leyla's pain like he used to, but he could give her the truth, at least: "I moved last August. Been here a full year now. I—" Cheated on my girlfriend and lost her and needed a change of scenery. Another blink, at that, as he realized what he was about to say. Ten years, during which time she'd opened that business she always wanted for herself, and what had he done meanwhile? The very same thing that had destroyed their relationship. Even after arriving here for his fresh start, he'd broken multiple people's trust. Her reminder of that lodged itself in his throat, clawing down into his ribcage, until all he could do was laugh incredulously at himself. Or try to, at least. The sound grabbed his guilt on its way out and morphed into something painful. "God. Fuck."

He forced his eyes to stay on her, lest he run again. She really did look the same—that same strong nose he'd once admired, the same hands he'd once held between his own. A few bits of tenderness, aching and bruised, pushed through to the surface. "That's... really good. That you opened your own place."

Leyla was happy for the enthusiastic feedback to the idea, hoping the rest of town was as into the idea and it brought increased business in the way she hoped. "That's amazing, congratulations! You look great, how do you feel?"

"That's the goal," she said, warmly. People loving it and wanting to come often was all she wanted to see, to know she could make this successful. "That would be an absolute dream, thank you. The people who've come in so far have seemed to enjoy it, but word of mouth is the true testament to a successful place. The more people who hear about it, the better." As she asked her about what led her to open Mawk Tales, Leyla paused, thinking it over a moment. "I've always wanted to open a business, as far back as I can remember. Life got in the way a bit, but I finally got my Master's a couple years ago and decided it was time. I wanted a place that was safe, comfortable for everyone. Like Cheers. I don't believe you have to drink to have a good time, and some people can't or don't want to. This way, everyone can experience the warmth built with bartenders and friends in bars without the alcohol."

“I’d love to come by and check it out!” Alice said enthusiastically. She loved discovering new things in town, and making new friends. She smiled again. “December,” Alice said happily. “So we are about halfway there, which is really exciting!” She nodded.

“Likewise,” Alice grinned. “I hope so too! I’m going to really love it here,” she told her. “Absolutely. I’m always looking for new stories and new places for townspeople to visit. Shake things up a bit with some variety. I know a lot of folks will appreciate a good mocktail,” she nodded. “Thank you,” She said as she took a sip of her drink, pleasantly surprised at how refreshing it tasted. “This is quite tasty. What led you to open up a place like this?”

She knew he never meant to, and that just made it worse. He loved love, which had once been something she herself had loved about him. When you were his moment, it was the most intoxicating thing in the world because you were everything. But that's the thing about moments, there's always another right after it. They're fleeting. She'd never been more loved than that time Vitus had loved her, but she had also never had the kind of pain the end brought. She had tried to hurt him back, make him feel what she was feeling, but by the look on his face, he was still the same. It hadn't deterred him from doing it again and again, still chasing love like another high. In actuality, that's all it was by Leyla's estimation.

"Don't." She replied, a mix of malice and flicker of that old brokenness, "you don't get to talk about what I deserve." Because no matter how much she had wanted him to know that she made it, she didn't want to need anything from him. Not now. Everyone in town saw the end result, the polished version she spent decades perfecting. He knew, though, knew what she didn't want anyone to know: it had been a messy, twisted journey, and there had almost been no Leyla Tehrani left to open Mawk Tales at all.

They were both really fucked up, back then and probably still now. She still said mean things like she knew how to hurt him, as if his life had been happy and hers alone had not, but they both knew that wasn't true. He'd had plenty ripped away from him in the blink of an eye. It just still didn't give him the right to be reckless with others. His silence said he knew that.

"I know I am," she replied, once again wishing he wasn't being kind about it. "Then what would it have taken? I spent so much time playing it all back in my head, and--I know I wasn't perfect. I was a lot of work, but I loved you as best I knew how--I couldn't love myself, but you--you were easy to love. If love is really some beautiful and powerful thing, why wasn't that enough to stop you? Did you just want more?" For all the therapy she'd received, this is the one wound she wouldn't let anyone in to see, so it was the one that could re-open so easily. She wanted to pull him close and drown him in the nearby ocean all at the same time, with the same fire. He didn't have any right to ask, and after what he'd done, part of her still wanted the same punishment for him: to never know the answer to those questions. "--Eating? Yes," she relented, "okay might be a totally different question altogether. It doesn't go away, but I've been seeing Dr. Lane at the community center. Keeps me on top of things. But what's still broken in me, Vitus, you cannot fix." She took a breath, lip wobbling in a way that made her curse herself. He could still get right through, and it just made her want to push harder to close right back up. No one was allowed this close, not anymore. He looked better, still sad behind the eyes, but physically, he seemed okay. She wasn't ready to ask yet about him. "I know I said I wanted you to always be miserable, but it doesn't actually make me feel better to see you like this. Love's not real, stop chasing it."

Another agonized wince, as Leyla sliced deeper. But she said it without anger this time. Just laid the truth at his feet, left it there for him to take back, because it wasn't hers anymore and never would be again. And she was right; he'd done his damage. He'd done it over and over, winding lovers and friends around his hands and then spinning them loose repeatedly. Never with the intent to harm, but what difference did it make when harm was all he seemed to be capable of sometimes? Too choked to answer her question directly, Vitus let the remorse in his expression be his response.

And as she spoke of her business, the quaint atmosphere she'd cultivated for herself, Vitus's empathy leaked into his eyes. He tried to rein it in without much success. "That's fantastic, Leyla. Nobody deserves it more than you," he said, and he meant it. Because he remembered how hard she worked for it. How her constant battle for control had left her bone-brittle and frail, on the brink of fracture between his arms.

He did know what it was like, to go to bed happy and have his life turned upside down in the matter of a single day. He'd fallen asleep that fateful November in 2005 as a son, a love-drunk kid, a boyfriend. By the end of the next night, he'd been reduced to a barren street corner and a duffle bag that smelled like a home he no longer had. But he'd never told her that. Vitus had told her about his parents and his homelessness, of course; hers had been the arms he'd retreated to when he finally got that phone call from his mother, saying she wanted to reconnect. But Leyla had only poked around the edges of his wounds, never seen what they looked like when they were bloody and raw. He almost never shared his hurt with anyone back then. And he wouldn't share it with her now. Couldn't, not when he'd already forced her to hold far too much of it when he abruptly exited her life.

"I know. And you're right to. Hate me, I mean." It stung to admit that, especially as he continued picking through the rubble of their short-lived time together. "But it wasn't... Leyla," he sighed, as if exhaling her name could help alleviate some of the weight that had settled over his torso, threatening to cave his ribs in. "It wasn't because you weren't enough. It was never that. It was about me. It's always me." She hadn't believed him back then, and he had no idea if she would believe him now. The animal caged in his chest howled, screamed, wailed for something just out of reach. Vitus wanted to let it out, wanted to show it to her. As it was, he just sighed again and raked his hands through his hair. The ocean breeze almost swallowed his voice as he added, "I know I don't have any right to ask, but are you okay? I mean, have you been... how are you doing, these days?"

"A lot of competitive spirit," she laughed. She hadn't been here very long, but that was clear. "Me too, my sport was running," she said, before glancing over at where some kids were before looking back, "which one's yours?"

Lara gave her a smile. “Yes! Hope that everyone just has a lot of fun. I know this town has a lot of team spirit,” she said, trying to give extra context to what she meant. “I played in school… for gym class. My daughter is more athletic,” she added.

"Completely understand," Leyla said with a hint of a laugh, "I've got a couple of those myself." She kept telling herself she'd read something that wasn't business or professional development related, and yet, her bag did not contain any such other genre. "I'll still give you exciting," she offered. "Would you recommend it?"

"Oh, I would put it on my tbr list and then swear I'm going to read it for months and months and then not read it, but thank you for the offer." Aleja was too old to not be self aware about her own habits. "They're fairly spicy, but nothing compared to what's popular these days."