the final blow has been struck, Xehanort, despite all his cunning and his foresight, has been defeated by the 7 guardians of light. His ultimate form starts to dissipate and shrink until there’s just a crouching figure laying on the barren rocky ground of the keyblade graveyard. Kairi, Sora, Riku and the others stand still at the ready, not knowing what this new form might be capable of, but just then the smoldering figure raises it’s head of messy brown hair. The young keyblade wielders ready their weapons, muscles tensed for action, when a graceful hand lands haltingly on the shoulder of Sora, a simple command of cease fire.
Aqua’s heart is racing painfully fast in her chest, hardly daring to believe her eyes, but there’s no mistaking that curve of the back or those ridiculous billowing pants she herself had jokingly bought for him so long ago.
Terra sat up and turned around to look at the small crowd gathered behind him, all hard, determined faces ready to strike but then..
He wobbled desperately to his feet, magnetized by the tears welling her eyes. After so many years of not controlling his body, he only made about three steps until his knees gave out and he was sent plummeting forward, only to be caught in the arms of the sole person in the universe who had never given up on him.
Bracing himself against her shoulder, Terra couldn’t bring himself to look into Aqua’s stark blue eyes. He had been conscious the whole time, and had been forced to watch in abject horror at his own hands around the neck of the woman he loved more than anything. He couldn’t face her, not after what had happened.
“Aqua..” he croaked, just then gaining faculty over his vocal chords, “I’m so sor-
and just like that she had her hand in his hair pulling his face up to hers for a kiss so passionate and needy that Terra thought he might collapse again.
Behind those lips he had so often fantasized about flowed all the pent up grief, loneliness, anger, and sadness that had hardened like a shell around the keyblade master, dulling her usual glow like an old snakeskin. But as their mouths opened up to each other the skin was shed and the old Aqua’s vibrance began to radiate from her eyes.
Finally separating their embrace to gasp for air, but still in each other’s arms, the two suddenly became aware of their audience present that was no longer ready to fight and very confused.
For the first time in what seemed like decades, Master Aqua cracked a grin,
As promised…. Chapter 1 is here! I hope you all like it! Let me know what you think!
Crying into my chicken pesto in the middle of a crowded restaurant was not quite how I imagined lunch with my friends would go. But, there I was, big, gross tears falling down my cheeks as I held my friends phone. In front of me was my ex’s instagram featuring the tramp he cheated on me with; the caption declaring his love for her. LOVE! We had been sharing those words not even two months ago. How could he love her already. I felt used, cheap, and betrayed all over again.
“He’s a fucking rat, Liv. You deserve so much better.” My friend Evie ranted. I had been doing ok. The initial shock of the break up had worn off but the media didn’t seem to get that memo. They still hounded me every time I stepped into public. They wanted to know what it was like to see photos my boyfriend kissing another woman splashed across the front cover of every newspaper and magazine.
It has been almost two months since he got caught and I tossed his sorry ass. Now, he was happily making a fool out of me in front of the entire world with his posts. He was telling the world he moved on while I sat crying in a very popular restaurant. I’m sure half the other diners had their cell phones trained on me at this point. I quickly cleaned myself up and tossed the phone back to Evie.
“You’re right. He is shit and I’m over it.” I took a bite of my chicken to prove my point and huffed. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of another public embarrassment. The paps got me moving myself out of his apartment in tears and the caught me red eyed and disheveled outside of my agents offices a few days later. I was tired of it. I just wanted to move on.
I stepped out of the restaurant and was met with half a dozen paps yelling my name; all holding their phones up with my ex’s post on full display. I felt the twinge of hurt hit again and my eyes welled up tears before I could stop them.
“Liv, How do you feel about Dan moving on so quickly? Do you still love him? Do you want him back? Are you crying? Liv Liv Liv…” I held my hand over my face and darted to my car. I shielded my eyes until I was able to pull away. Once I was away, a sob escaped my throat. This was getting out of control. I needed to get out of here. I pushed the bluetooth button on my steering wheel and dialed my agent.
“Hey Liv. I’m guessing you saw the post?” She asked, as soon as she answered.
“Yeah, and met a bunch of damn paps outside of lunch.” I growled. “Jess. I need to get the hell out of here. I need to get somewhere quiet so I can write and not deal with this shit.” I was still crying and the emotions laced my words. “I’ll go anywhere. Just get me out of here, Jess, please.”
“I’ll make it happen, Liv. You deserve a break.” I could hear typing from her end. “I’ll call you back before tonight with some ideas, ok?”
“Yeah. Thanks Jess, you’re the best.” I ended the call just as I pulled up to my apartments.
The call back came sooner then I was expecting. I answered on the second ring.
“How does Kauai sound?” Jess said, instead of a greeting.
“Hawaii? Isn’t Hawaii always crawling with Paps?” I was skeptical.
“No, that’s the big island and Maui. Where all the big time resorts are. Kauai is quiet. Small. More local. And it’s the off season. You can rent a little cottage. You will be off the grid.” I smiled. I haven’t been to Hawaii before. It sounded perfect.
“Book it. I want to leave as soon as you can make it happen.” I smiled for the first time in a long time.
“How does tomorrow sound?” The clicks of her keyboard sounded over the phone once again.
“Perfect. Absolutely perfect.”
I spread my towel out in the shade of the tree that had become my spot nearly every day for the last few weeks. It is my secret spot. It was as if no one even knew this little strip of beach existed. I always found it completely empty and often stayed that way the entire day. It wasn’t really off the beaten path, but the beach was rocky and dangerous to swim or surf in. Because of this, people rarely ventured to the stretch of sand that held my beloved tree unless it was to stroll past and continue on. A hundred yards or so down from me, there is a bend in the coastline and beyond that, a popular beach lays, one filled with locals and tourists alike.
I am neither and both. I have been hiding away on this island for too long to be considered a tourist but not long enough to be a local. What am I hiding away from, you might ask? Of course you would. It seems strange for someone to just up and run away to an island in the middle of the pacific and spend her days sitting under a tree on a empty beach. It mostly has to do with a boy. I say mostly because I’m not some weak woman who can’t handle a breakup. What I can’t handle is the media circus that has become my life.
Maybe I should introduce myself. I’m Olivia Costantini, or as most you would know me as, Liv Constantine. Author, screenwriter extraordinaire. Also know as the stupid woman who dated one of the stars of the movie adaptation of her best selling book series. It was a dream come true romance for the fans of the series. Their beloved author dating one of their beloved characters. I thought it was a dream come true romance for me to, until he got caught with his tongue down some model’s throat while in Paris on a press tour. My heart was broken and the media was obsessed. I couldn’t go out without being hounded with questions and having a camera shoved in my face.
I couldn’t write. I still can’t. It’s been almost 4 months now. My heart is slowly healing but the writer’s block is still there. My agent and editors have been putting pressure on me to see the first few chapters of the next instalment, but I have nothing of worth while to show. The story is dry to me. It lacking excitement and emotion. To put it bluntly, it’s terrible. At first, I blamed my ex. But I know it’s not him. There is just something missing and the deeper I get into brainstorming, the more frustrated I become. So, I jumped on a plane to Kauai, Hawaii hoping a change in scenery, and out of the public eye, will spark something. It has been two months and I’m still staring at the same stale ideas, only instead of banging my head on a desk, I’m hitting sand.
My stewing is interrupted by someone walking along the water. I am slightly surprised as I have been here for a few hours now with no interruptions. Further surprising me, the person sits right down on the sand, almost directly between me and the waves. Excuse me, can’t you see I am angrily staring at those waves. I have to fight the urge to tell him to get lost. Instead, I pick up an old hobby of mine, I observe. I love to secretly watch people. No, not in the stalker way, just people watch. Quietly watch their habits, actions, mannerisms, interactions. My interrupter appears to be around my age, early 20’s. He is wearing incredibly tight skinny jeans, which I imagine are now rather full of sand. He has on a plain white shirt and holds a pair of tan boots in his hand. His hair blows wildly in the wind. It’s past his shoulders and curly. He reaches up and quickly captures his unruly curls in a bun. His arms are covered with tattoos. He is too far away to identify them, but it suits his image. I am intrigued. What I notice the most is the defeated slump in his shoulders. I pick up on it quickly because I know that slump. I carry the same. I quietly wonder if he has even noticed me here. I am tucked back under the shade of a tree, not near the water.
My thoughts are again interrupted, this time by the loud shrill of a cell phone. My phone. I jump and quickly dig it out of my bag. I silence the ringer and toss it back into my bag. When I look up, my intruding stranger has vanished.
The bell to Small Town Coffee jingled as I pushed the door open. I caught the barista’s eye from behind the counter. She smiled and nodded, to indicate that she would have my drink to me in a moment. I am here most mornings. I have found a few quiet places that I have made a habit of coming to regularly. There is something about this sleepy island that makes me feel at home. I have avoided the tourist traps for the most part and injected myself into the local culture.
I walked to my normal table tucked into the corner of the shop. I loved that this had become routine for me. I need routine when I’m writing. My favorite cup of coffee, my favorite table, my favorite playlist. It worked for me. Or, at least, it use to. Now, I’m not sure anything will work for me. I met the barista at the register and paid before settling down at my table.
I powered up my iPad and attached my keyboard before looking around the coffee shop. There were a handful of regulars that were there almost everyday, but someone else caught my eye. Looking right back at me was the boy with the unruly brown curls. He was furrowing his eyebrows, as if he was trying to place me. It didn’t take me long to place him. He was my mystery intruder from the day before. Although, I didn’t get to see his face on the beach, there was no mistaking those curls and skinny jeans. He continued to look at me, so I looked back at my screen and tried to ignore him. I had gone this long without being recognized, I really didn’t want to that to change today.
I pulled up my novel and reread what I had written the day before. It was rubbish. I knew it was. I soon forgot the mysterious man across the coffee shop and focused on my storyline. Something had to change, that much I knew, but what. I spent the next few hours rewriting and rearranging my storyline before giving up. There was something missing but I couldn’t figure out what. I packed my shoulder bag before ducking out of the shop. I was walking quickly to my longterm rental car when I heard the bell on the door behind me ding.
“Hey, wait.” A deep, raspy, and was that British, voice called out. I glanced over my shoulder and I saw the boy with the curls jogging up behind me. I stopped, reluctantly and turned to face him. He held up something to me. “You forgot this.” I looked down at his hands and saw my worn leather notebook. The very notebook that held the life of my story within it’s pages. I quickly snatched it from him and groaned at my stupidity. If this had gotten in the wrong hands, my publishers would have killed me.
“Thank you. I would have literally died without this.” I huffed, shoving the offending notebook in my bag. I glanced up at the boy and noted that his brows were furrowed once again.
“You’re Liv Constantine, right?” He hesitantly asked.
“Fuck.” I said under my breath. I’ve been found out. I forced a smile on my face and nodded. “Yep. You caught me.” I said, instead of turning and running like I wanted to do. His face broke into a wide grin and a hint of dimples showed. Now that I was really looking at him, I realized he was incredibly attractive. His eyes were a shade of green that I have never seen before and his smile completely lit up his face. Today, he wore a hawaiian print shirt that screamed “tourist” with black skinny jeans that were ripped in the knees and the brown boots from the day before. His shirt was half unbuttoned and allowed a few tattoos on his chest to peek out. I had to remind myself not to stare.
“Your books are simply brilliant. They are my go to on my long plane rides.” He gushed, pulling me from my ogling.
“Oh, thank you.” I plastered on my media trained smile and nodded at him but on the inside, I was already planning on where I was going to go next to escape the media shit storm that was soon to follow being found out. “Did you want a picture or an autograph or something.” I asked. “I’m sorry but I don’t have any copies of my books here.” His smile shifted to something smaller, shyer almost. “You’re actually the first person to recognize me here and it’s been months so I’m afraid I’m unprepared.” I smile softly in return.
“Oh, no. I’m ok.” He said, waving his hand back and forth. “I wasn’t even going to approach you but you left your notebook and I’m sure it’s filled with all sorts of important things.” I nodded in answer. “I have one similar to that and I don’t know what I would do if I lost it. Once, I almost left it on a plane but my manager spotted it before we left.” He was rambling a bit, but I was interested in him. He didn’t seem flustered with meeting me, as most fans are. “I’m Harry, by the way.” He suddenly said, sticking his hand out for mine.
“Nice to meet you, Harry.” I softly replied. He furrowed his eyebrows again and then smiled brighter than before. It was almost as if he was expecting a different response from me. I was confused. Didn’t most people expect to have their hands shaken when the offer them. I wondered if there was some odd rumor about me being a germaphobe taking over the internet and he was testing to see if I would actually shake his outstretched hand.
“You too.” He beamed at me. His hand running through his tangled curls.
“Harry.” I caught his attention and stepped a bit closer to him. “I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind keeping this to yourself, at least for a little while?” I hesitantly asked. “I know that’s asking a lot, but I’m really enjoying hiding from the media and it would only take one tweet or tumblr post before the whole world comes crashing down on me.” I didn’t want to discourage him but I really didn’t want to leave the little bubble I had found here in Kauai. He seemed even more confused. He pinched his bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger before nodding.
“Of course, Liv. There is a chance I’m hiding out as well. I’m definitely on a social media strike for the time being.” He laughed, but I sensed it was a sarcastic one.
“Thank you. It would mean a lot to me.” I touched his arm and smiled at him. He grinned wider at me and nodded.
We said goodbyes and parted ways. I was left wondering about the mysterious British boy who seemed to understand my need to hideaway more than I could know.
The rest of the day was spent under my tree with my notebook in front of me. A new character was forming in my mind. He was dark, mysterious and reminded me a bit too much of the a certain sweet british boy.
I filled page after page brainstorming a villain that had good in him. I wasn’t sure where he would fit into the story, but it was the first time in almost six months that I had written something that I thought I could actually use, something I was proud of.
Over the following week, I found my mind wandering to the encounter I had with the British Harry. My agent was monitoring social media to make sure I wasn’t outed, but no tweet came mentioning me in Hawaii. He was true to his word. It seemed my safe haven was still here for a while longer. I wondered who he was and why he was here. But mostly, I thought about why he seemed so defeated the day I saw him on the beach. He was becoming something of a muse for me and inspiring a character. I told myself that was the reason I found myself focusing on him, but I couldn’t help but think there was more to it than that. I was drawn to him and I didn’t know why.
Me after Supernatural:
*sobs gross tears* THIS GREAT AND MIRACULOUS SYMPHONY OF LOVE AND LOSS AND PASSION AND JOY AND PAIN AND ROCKSTARS AND OLD TIME ROCK AND ROLL AND I CANNOT LISTEN WITHOUT CHOKING UP
It was definitely the scariest thing I’ve ever done, telling my dad about the nightmares. But you know, I don’t think I regret it. I’ve finally been able to catch up on all my lost sleep. And I was really surprised by how gentle and supportive my dad can actually be…I guess he’s not a sarcastic, cocky nerfherder all of the time.