Leyla Wanted Her Place To Be As Good As Any Other Bar, And You Could Always Send Those Drinks Back Too.

That was the beauty of a small town, this was invaluable advertising because the whole town had to be walking around this week. If they hadn't made it to the coast yet, they would know her shop's name now and the delicious drinks they could find there. "Yes, as long as the feedback's good, but barring people spitting it back out at me, we'll have these for the season. And maybe a couple others. They are seasonal, though, so still for a limited time. Just not one week limited." For a young business, it might not be the best idea to donate all this money to a charity, but that's what she was going to do. She believed in the cause, and the mission of her place was to make the world better, safer, kinder. That's what Harmony Healers was doing. As she set the flight in front of him, she added, "and all of these are available full-size this week that you can take with you, if there's one you really like and want to take it as you explore the rest of the booths."

"You know what?" Josh nodded his head decisively when Leyla talked about the flight, the special that she had crafted up for the week, offering her a bright smile. "Let's go with that. Might as well try a little bit of everything, and then get hooked -- are you also selling these over at the coast, in case I need to stop by and get my fix?" After all, there was nothing worse than falling in love with the taste of something, only to never have it again. It happened all too often at fairs and festivals, he had come to find. But he trusted Leyla to find a way to make it happen. "Besides, always want to help with a good cause," and he did love the work that Harmony Healers was doing, after all.

For all her lack of festiveness, Leyla really did love the view here. If you could drown out all the other noise, the sound of the ocean waves was nice. Looking up from her book as she had company, she smiled warmly, "not at all. Make yourself comfortable. You guys really do make a big thing of the end of summer around here, huh?"

WHO: Rafael & @leyla-tehrani

WHERE: The Beach

WHEN: End of Summer Beach Bash

Rafael did love the beach. Normally, he preferred the quiet afternoons through the week, when there wasn't quite as much noise and fuss, when people could pitch a canopy, lay out a towel, not worry about the world around them. But he couldn't deny that the beach party was still a good time, even with the laughing, screaming kids hanging about. As he took stock of the people nearby, he saw a woman sitting with a book in hand, and figured it was a safe spot, stopping nearby and offering a polite smile. "Mind if I take up a little space next to you?"

Maybe it was the escapism from the harshness that was often her own reality, but Leyla had found solace, education, and a sense of belonging in books for as long as she could remember. A bookstore or library had an otherworldly sense to it at times, like the world could be shut out, an invisible sign on the door that read 'bad things, keep out.' "I've read a few of her others, My Sister's Keeper and Nineteen Minutes, but I'm sort of rediscovering at the moment. All I've read as of recently is business- or entrepreneur-related, so before my roommates stage a workaholic intervention, I thought I'd add in some pleasure reading. Have you read the Scarpetta series? It's American Crime from Patricia Cornwell. Or someone at the Beach Bash recommended the Bridgerton books to me, if you enjoy a bit of spice."

Summer had always been picky when it came to her reading choices, usually wanting something more gripping to start off with but every once in a while she would pick up something outside of her scope and actually enjoy it; "I think I've read this, or maybe it was a movie that I saw" perhaps it was both; "Are you new to her work?" questioning the other before answering her question; "I have read her work before maybe only once with My Sisters Keeper but I am not quite sure exactly what is on my mind when it comes to a new book, what suggestions do you have?" / @leyla-tehrani

theboldtypetv everything the light touches is our kingdom. happy 20th anniversary @thelionking broadway. 🦁 #lionking20

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."

It took her longer than she wanted to get here, but the fire for her goals had been there after all. It just took the lowest point in her life and the climb out of it to inspire her again. "I did!" She exclaimed, "and it is amazing. The town has seemed to really love it, the location really has been everything." She was so used to having her guard up, that she forgot how freeing it felt to have someone around that didn't need the wall.

"But there is a family farm, so you can go up there and see if some rugged farmer needs a big city girl to help him save the family farm," Leyla replied, laughing a little at the absurdity of it and how realistic it actually sounded in this setting. Though she was pretty sure the Newman Family Farm wasn't in danger. Just because a shirtless hunk was destined for her movie, love had long lost its meaning, she would support her friend in her dreams. She nodded, remembering she had brothers, so it made sense. "So you probably know more than I do about this place," she admitted, smiling as Cemille mentioned the dance studio. She always had been an exquisite dancer. "I haven't been out dancing in forever, I might need a refresher or do you not teach club dance?" She was teasing, but she really didn't think it would be the worst idea to find a place to go dancing sometime. "They don't seem real," she agreed, "everyone is almost too nice. I like it though...in a weird way." Even if she didn't always act like it.

"You did?" Her eyes lit up, but Leyla was the type of person who always went after what she wanted, so she shouldn't have been too surprised. "Wow, congratulations! I have to be sure to stop in to check it out. I'm sure with you running it, it'll be amazing." She nodded, earnestly. She couldn't think of anyone who deserved it more than her. She was just one of those people Cemile felt at ease with, and she thought small-town life suited her.

"Bummer about the lack of shirtless lumberjacks though, I was hoping one would sweep me off my feet. But I guess that fantasy is tabled." she joked, a slight grin on her face at the thought. Though she understood what Leyla meant, this place did remind her of something out of a made-for-TV movie. "Well, I spent summers in Merrock so it's not a new town. But my brothers have been here for a few years, and I figured it was time to make an effort with the family. So mainly for them, but I'm also teaching dance at the local studio which is a nice change. Everyone here is so," she struggled to find the word, without making it seem like she was being cynical. Because in reality, she was starting to like this place once again. "Wholesome, but I guess I'm making things work. Maybe once people stop being so overbearing I'll finally like it here."

As much as she had originally been not the most enthusiastic about being here, Leyla had to admit it had been a really nice weekend. Having spent so much time in New York, it was strangely refreshing--and equally terrifying--to be seen. She had never been a small town before, and it was a bit like a movie the way people were kind. "You're not bothering me," she assured as she set her book aside and extended her hand for the lotion, "the back's the hardest part. Always better with two. Are you enjoying your weekend?"

who: LIBBY & LEYLA! @leyla-tehrani

where: beach bash.

when: sometime during the late afternoon (August 26th).

Libby was reading one of her spicy romance novels and listened to Hozier's new album in her earphones, and it was her perfect way to spend a day on the beach. Especially after the big volleyball game. An hour or so passed before she realized that she needed to reapply her sunscreen, wanting to avoid her already pink-tinted skin getting sunburned. The squirt of the lotion bottle sounded and Libby massaged some between her hands, trying to get every bit of skin she could. Libby struggled a moment to get a certain area on her back and when she couldn't fight it anymore, she decided she needed to ask for a little bit of help. "I'm so sorry to bother you, but could you please help me put some sun lotion on my back? I've tried to do it myself and I've learned that I don't have long enough arms."