"I've Never Seen Anything Quite Like It," Leyla Commented, "it's Like One Great Big Family Who Actually

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."

Most people were reading fiction or memoirs, and she was reading like she was still in school. It's what she liked though, working made sense more than anything else did. "I did," she said proudly, "it's called Mawk Tales. The only bar you can feel safe to bring your kids too, but we do have smoothies and italian sodas if you don't want her having something called a mocktail." Finding the yellow swimsuit, she smiled warmly, "she looks like she's having a blast. Is she pretending you're not here or are you still cool?"

Wes lifted a brow in curiosity as Leyla explained the contents of the book she had been reading. It sounded kind of interesting, it definitely made sense. "You opened up the new mocktail place out this way, right?" He may not have had the chance to have checked it out yet, but he had certainly heard good things. He chuckled at the question of whether one of the tweens out on the shoreline was his. "Yeah, the one in the yellow swimsuit is mine," he laughed, "Arabella."

Leyla sighed, knowing that was very much true. One of the reasons she preferred the company of women far more, it was hard to know which men you could really trust. "I'm doing my part, I guess," she said, wanting to put the good in the world that she had needed growing up.

"You're welcome, you seem like the horse whisperer type," she complimented. She nodded as the woman mentioned it taking her back, scents were usually very strongly attached to memory. Unfortunately, not all could be good. This one was though. It represented healing. "Uh, not really. Not as much as I would have liked. I was in New York before this, and there's less opportunity. I would like to get into it more again."

"They're everywhere," she scrunched her nose, knowing that there wasn't a single woman on the planet who hadn't, at some point in their life, dealt with that exact kind of man. Unfortunately. "I think that's really admirable. We need more good in the world, less of the bad stuff." And if Leyla was here, trying to volunteer with the program, than Livvy already believed that she was heading in the right direction.

"Thank you," she laughed, reaching up to touch her hair, no longer in a braid, but still pulled back loosely at the back of her neck. Some habits died hard, after all. She had changed a lot since high school and the younger years, but there were some parts of her that she knew would never actually change, and she was grateful for that. "Oh, me too," an eager nod, "the smell of hay, or leather… takes me back, you know? Outside of what you mentioned earlier, do you ride horses a lot?"

WHERE THE CRAWDADS SING (2022) dir. Olivia Newman

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?"

"Ah, you're familiar," she joked, laughing as they both clearly gave away that they were not born there. She nodded, agreeing, "quite." Smiling, she was grateful for the experiences she had, even if not all were full of positive memories. "My parents are Iranian," she explained, "that trip was to see some relatives. I speak both fluent Farsi and French, so both places allowed me to exercise those languages more. But it is, I would go back to Paris if the opportunity arose." Leaning against the arm of her beach chair, she beamed at the compliment to her business idea. "Thank you for saying so," she said quietly, "it seems to fill a need. I was hoping it would, but the feedback has been really positive." It was one thing to know and to hear it from customers, and another to get the praise of someone who had long run his own business. "I've always wanted to go to Italy, but I never got that far. What brought you here?"

"Spoken like a true New Yorker," he replied, trying his best to imitate the accent, as well. Something that he should have had down pat, after spending a few years there, himself. But he had spent much more time in Maine, was almost disappointing to find the accent a reach to achieve. "I can imagine it's a little bit of culture shock, though. Iran and Paris -- and then here to Merrock, you've really seen a lot," he smiled at the thought. "Can't say I've visited Iran, but Paris is gorgeous. One of those cities worth seeing just to say that you did, right?" He leaned back on his arms where he had settled onto his towel and let out a low laugh, "oh yes, we have quite a few bars, but your business is truly unique. And truth be told, I think sometimes people go to bars just because they're traditional meeting, social areas. Offer them something else, and why not take it?" He knew that it would happily be a place for him to visit with clients. "I was born in Italy, actually. Moved to New York City for law school, practiced for a few years before I made the move here."

WHO: Leyla & @chvndlr WHERE: Pause for Paws WHEN: September 29, at some point in the day

Leyla was starting to wonder if the guy who worked here was going to think she was aiming for his job for the amount of time she spent in here. She had seen him in her shop with his blonde friend, so they were sort of even. In a not at all way. He had a few more visits needed to catch up on work place visits. Her laptop bag slung over her shoulder, she gave him a little smile as she approached, offering a "me again." She also wondered if she said the usual if he'd even remember what that was or if he didn't pay that much attention to what guests ordered. He didn't exactly scream 'customer service is what I live for'. "Cinnamon latte," she said, looking around before asking, "hey, this is probably a stupid question, but are the cats here adoptable?"

"Quality control," she quipped back. This was the sort of thing she had wanted in the bar, a place could relax and be themselves. A place for good conversation and memories. "Oh, what sort of things do you write?"

"Well, part of the fun of running a business is getting to sample the goods, right?" Che teased, good naturedly. He appreciated the ambiance of the bar that Leyla had set up and could see himself doing work there now and then. "I work for a bank, but I'm also a writer. I'm trying to get more into doing the writing thing as an actual way to make money and such."

"Yeah, simple switch for that one," she said. Being self-taught in the most of the ways of mixology in the last couple of years when she decided on her business idea, she was happy to share the knowledge. "I'd be happy to teach you," she offered, "which is probably terrible as a business model, but if you're wanting the alcohol version, it's not direct competition." The flight option was one of her personal favorites, but she liked the ability to sample a menu. "There's no alcohol, not a drop in the whole place," she assured, "we are fully non-alcoholic, so no back up plans needed, no hangovers the next day, just a great time."

"Oh, that's easy enough to remember." Ryn nodded, listening at the comment of replacing the syrup with the liquor. She wasn't the most knowledgeable when it came to alcohol or mixing things together, but the other seemed to be much more knowledgeable and Ryn was thankful she'd gotten to listen to her. "I'll have to see if I can find the stuff and make my own at home." she spoke. "Though, I'm thinking you'd just be much better at it then I would, so, maybe I just need to come out there anytime I want something fancy." she laughed. At the mention of the flight option, Ryn inhaled in excitement. "Ooh, yeah. Definitely have to come out and try that. Though, I need to ask, do you do flights of mixed non-alcoholic and alcoholic there? Because if not, I may need to be sure I have a backup plan." she laughed. "I haven't drank anything alcohol related in awhile, so, I can't promise I won't be a lightweight."

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