Eleonora comes to see me once a week every Saturday to keep me out of my misery. Ever since she graduated from college, she had a few job options on her mind, but it didn't take long for her to realize that she's not a desk job type of girl. She prefers something with more downtime where she doesn't have to get up before nine in the morning. We're different in that aspect. I like planning and waking up early and going to work on time even if I do actually hate the fact that I never got to do much writing in my old job. I was much more committed to my books. Eleonora, however, needs to know that she has a lot of time to do something before actually doing it. She's lot better at deadlines, now, for the least. Once she realized that she has the option of paying the bills of downsizing to a smaller apartment, she quickly became more dedicated.

While she's not a big party girl, she does like to go out a lot and drink without having to worry about having to go to work the next day. One day, as I was walking down the streets, I saw an art studio for sale. Its two floors and has a big space. She used her part of the inheritance to buy the place. She displays her art there once every month and sells most of her art. The first year was slow, but she's constantly updating her social media and making some deliveries as well with the art that doesn't sell in the night of the gallery.

Her style is unique. She's really good at painting. Sometimes she paints random portraits and abstract art as she's not as good with realism. Her best paintings are blackout poetry. I came up with the idea in high school and she worked with it for a bit and found a liking to it. The idea is that she picks up actual books and creates paintings of blackout poetry, painting around the blacked-out words. It's fascinating.

She sold enough paintings to allow her to travel now and then, but I know she's been saving money lately. That's mostly because she refused to travel anywhere ever since Atlas passed away, wanting to keep me company. So every Saturday she abandons her plans and spends the whole day with me. She tries to come over more often during the weekdays as well. Sometimes she'll stop by and we'll watch a movie together or she'll ask for book recommendations and I'll pull a few off my shelves.

Some Saturdays, she decides to bring friends over. People I used to be friends with as well but no longer talk to. Most of them have been avoiding me ever since I got so . . . depressed.

Today, she invited over Olive and Wren. I've been friends with them since freshman year of high school. El used to hate spending so much time with my friends since they're all three years younger than her, but now she's more used to it. Wren and El are practically the same person. They're both crazy and like to travel a lot. Olive is more like me. We've always been really close, but our relationship has deteriorated as I don't see her as often as I used to.

"It looks like you haven't moved much since last week," Eleonora says, slipping off her she's and propping her feet on the coffee table as she usually does. The way she looks around my apartment, I can tell she's missing hers a lot more. She has one and a half floors. The top one is just the bedroom. It's like the ones you see in movies. Mine is a lot more modest. I don't have paintings lined on the walls though I did hand up some posters near the bookshelf.

I shrug. "I went out a little. You know, I talked to Henry and wrote a bit."

She gives me a knowing look. "You mean you asked Henry for coffee and then stared at a Word document for a few hours."

I shake my head furiously. "No! I use Scrivener, you know that."

She rolls her eyes and I laugh.

"This isn't funny, Luna. You've been so unproductive lately."

I'm staring at the blank screen of the TV for distraction. Talking to my sister is becoming more difficult now. She's becoming more persistent, almost pushing me to just be normal again. "What do you mean? I'm always like this."

She sits up and looks at me, willing me to meet her gaze. "I know you like the back of my hand. This isn't you. You don't ignore your friends when they call you and stay at home all day. You . . . Okay, I know you love nature walks and reading a book in a quiet place, but you also love going out with your friends and talking to Olive on the phone for an hour. You let me take you to sushi restaurants even though you hate fish, let alone raw fish!" She sighs. "You're optimistic and you move on fast. You don't sulk and feel bad for yourself."

I part my lips, thinking of something good to say before she explodes into another lecture.

"Do you not remember that time you told me that if a situation is out of my control, then there's no use worrying about it?"

I slowly shake my head and go to stand up, but she places a hand on my shoulder to stop me. "Luna—"

"No. Stop. This isn't the same. I can't help it. Our parents died and then I found this wonderful guy who made me forget. He was my first serious boyfriend, and he liked me for who I am. For once, I wasn't thinking of all the things I never got say to Mom and Dad before they died. And now, he's gone too and my job isn't satisfying me and every time I think of something to write or try to go out, he comes crawling back to my mind."

And now I'm crying again. I look away because I don't like crying in front of people. There's barely anywhere to hide in this little apartment, so I just rest my forehead between my knees and cry as silently as possible. El puts her hand on my back, waiting for me to calm down.

This is a bit too much for one week. I remember a time where Eleonora was jealous of how resilient I was. Nothing ever made me cry. It never seemed worth it. Even when Mom and Dad passed away, I grieved for a whole week and then I got up and took charge again, making breakfast and putting all our affairs in order. Someone has to pay the bills and El didn't know how at first.

When I look up, her expression softens. "I know you miss him, but it's not gonna go away with you just sitting here and waiting. Go to Wren's party with us tomorrow. The music won't be too loud and you'll know nearly everyone there. You can shadow me or talk to Olive, and if you get bored, read a book. But come. Please."

She strokes my cheeks, wiping away the last of the tears. The evidence is still there. My eyes are red and puffy.

"Tomorrow? That doesn't give me enough time to digest the situation."

She rolls her eyes. "Exactly! You won't get the chance to chicken out."

I sigh, nodding. "Yeah. Okay."

She smiles and hugs me before leaving. "The party starts at seven, but I'll come pick you up at six thirty. Be ready by then. It's casual."

"Six forty-five," I say.

"It'll be past seven when we get there, and you know Olive likes to be fashionably early." She rolls her eyes at the last part. The two are sort of friendly now, but Olive and I are alike in many things, which means they argue about everything. Even what time to leave the house.

"Forty-five," I insist.

Eleonora ruffles my hair. Now I can add 'messy hair' to this list of things wrong with my appearance right now.

It's only when she's leaving that I remember that I haven't told her about the guy I meant in the coffee shop and the letter he sent me. Kal was his name. I wonder if I'm gonna be seeing him again or if he'll refrain from coming back to the coffee shop after what he did.

You never know. Kal Roat seems shameless.