That Saturday, Fallon took me to a party. I threw on whatever I could find, which was a regular pair of shorts, one of his oversized shirts tied at my waist and sneakers. I loved wearing Fallon's clothes and I wasn't dressing to impress. I figured there was no point when the only guy I wanted woke to my riot of curls.

I instantly regretted it when we entered the main room of a sheek Brooklyn two-story home. Fallon's graduating class looked like they were cast in an over the top teen drama.

He went to a magnet school, somewhat like mine, with a focus on STEM and Performing Arts. I expected tech and theater geeks but everyone looked fabulous, dressed to the nines with most girls in sexy heels and outfits.

I took a breath. My false confidence went into overdrive as I pretended to be unfazed. I watched as the hostess made her way over, giving Fallon a flirty kiss on the cheek and welcoming us to her birthday party asking him to save her a dance before floating away to tend to the other guest.

It didn't take long to realize Fallon had had sex with half the girls in attendence but there was one he looked at in a way I had never notice him look at me. Sabrina Gabel was an experience. A sexed-up E-girl with an internet cult following. The petite blonde often drew hearts under her eyes and spoke in a high-pitched cavity-inducing voice.

That night she was in rare form; the manic pixie wearing a sheer black two-piece bardot set plastered in butterflies. Her crop shamelessly exposed her perky under-boob and the sheer fabric exposed her heart-shaped nipple tattoos, and high waisted black underwear.

I heard her before I saw her. A shrill scream cutting through the vibrant sounds as I learned for the first time Fallon sometimes indulged in pills that can't be prescribed.

I looked ahead to see a teenage sexpot with a baby face rushing over to jump into Fallon's arms. "I've missed you!" She wrapped her legs around his body and smashed her lips against his.

It winded me.

"Sab, I told you I hate that," Fallon chuckled, turning his face in the opposite direction as she showered his face in kisses.

It didn't look like he hated it. Fallon's hand rested on her bony ass while Sabrina flooded him with affection.

"Boo you! I've been waiting for you all night!" she said in a cutesy voice.

I looked over to Zion and Jeremiah, unfazed by the interaction. Zion was searching the room for his girlfriend, Imani, Sabrina's partner in crime, and Jerry's mind was on his next snack.

"I see Imani, I'ma dip off," Zion declared, slipping into the crowd.

"I'm starving! Hey Rue, let's find the kitchen." Jeremiah flashed his perfect teeth.

I held my breath. I knew Fallon hooked up with girls, but seeing it up close and personal hurt like a bitch. I nodded, needing an escape, but Fallon grabbed my wrist, telling me he didn't want me to wander far as he held another girl in his arms.

I resented him for it. Clenching my teeth trying my best not to make a scene. "I'll be with Jerry." I slipped away, wanting to be a million miles away from the situation.

A few hours later, Fallon found me hiding in the kitchen. I had to escape; feeling overwhelmed by the overexposure. Sabrina was seemingly too nice to hate. She was charismatic and charming with no filter.

I twiddled my fingers as I discovered like on TV their friend group mixed and matched with each other in an exchange of fluids that made kissing disgusting to Fallon Lynch.

Sabrina took his virginity. His friend Marcus hers. There was a time she was fucking them both and that's how he and Blythe, the parties host, began hooking up, but there were so many girls between them. I finally had enough when Sabrina joked that Fallon was her favorite despite, his dick being too big to fit in her giant mouth.

I see now that her confidence was admirable. As girls we are told sex is something for a mans pleasure only and our purity is all that we're worth. Sabrina was confident and smart. She commanded rooms with just her eyes and flaunted her slender body because she loved it and, even if she gave it to the world she demanded respect.

I think that's why despite her being nothing but sweet, I hated her.

"Hey, I thought you would be with Jerry." Fallon leaned beside me on the kitchen counter.

"I was. He went to the bathroom. I would have gone too, but that would be weird, or maybe not... things are different around here," I wrinkled my nose.

Fallon laughed slightly, "Yeah... sorry. I have so many pocket friend groups, I always forget the trigger warnings when people cross over into unfamiliar territory," he said, taking the drink from my hand and sniffing the contents of the cup.

"It's soda, daddy, and I got it myself," I fumed, snatching it back.

"Just making sure," Fallon smirked, not wanting me to indulge in what he considered to be the wrong thing.

I guess he was right because whereas Fallon was able to quit cold turkey, three years from then I would have an addiction no one would know existed until I overdosed on my apartment floor in a party just like that.

We made small talk. Fallon asked if I was having fun and I lied pretending I was. The truth was, I would rather have been back at his place, cuddled under a sheet and watching an old movie.

I wasn't the youngest person at the party, but it felt like I was; everyone drinking and getting high and at the time it wasn't my thing.

"Do you like Sabrina?" Fallon tilted his head.

I didn't. I knew I only didn't because he did. He would look at her and seem so entranced. Hating it deeply as she curled up in his lap and told stories to her captivated audience. I couldn't tell him that though.

"Yeah, she's great." I forced a smile.

They were dating from that night forward.

Present

I drove back to Athens to pick up some things, including my journal. If I'm doing the whole self discorvery thing I figure I shouldn't take off to fuck around with my ex.

I get halfway back to the city when I receive a text from Fallon letting me know he had to handle something at work, deciding I will use the time to visit Wrenner and Brielle.

Wren is also working. I guess the city that never sleeps is in deep need of lawyers and marketers on a Sunday evening; but I enjoy my time with my best friend and adorable two year old nephew.

"I love you, I love you, I love you!" I gush, smothering Adonis in kisses.

Wrenner Adonis Bianchi is one of the best things in my life. Though he is named after his father, everyone calls him Adonis for simplicity. I call him Addy.

Addy is a splitting image of my little brother. The chubby cheek toddler has his nose, his deep brown skin, his dark almond-shaped eyes, and the big smile Wrenner had lost early in life.

I feel joy holding this baby in my arms; knowing that he and his mother are the reason my baby smiles so big again. Adonis squeals as I nibble his cheeks and neck, the insane urge to squish him to death causing me to hold him tight.

"He adores you. I don't know why, you barely come to see him since he's been born," Brielle snipes, a soft smile on her face.

Brielle has changed little since high school aside from layering her brown hair to her shoulders. She has an understated hourglass figure, pale glowing skin, cupid's bow lips, expressive brown eyes and the same passive-aggressive wit.

I know she means I had not come to see her much since he was born, but both statements are a flat out lie. "Saw you on Thanksgiving, Bree," I remind her as we hang out in the small family's large three-bedroom Tribeca loft. "But I'm sure he understands," I say with a baby voice, "Right, Addy, you understand?" I gush, nibbling his fat fingers.

Adonis giggles and nods his head, his pudgy hands pawing at my face while he returns my affections.

"So..." Brielle says in that way that means she wants you to tell her something she already knows.

"So..." I peacefully respond.

"I'm trying to figure out which end to burn," Brielle says with a smirk, heading around the corner to the kitchen.

"Burn both ends, let's get wild!" I say with an air of sarcasm.

I know she wants to talk about my dying marriage, my night with Fallon, maybe both. If my love life was a sports competition then Wren, like the rest of my family and friends, fluctuate while Brielle has always been a die-hard Fallon fan.

"Whose shirt are you wearing?" Brielle throws a softball.

I'm wearing a large white shirt that says: I used to be punk rock, in big black letters, and other lies, directly under in fine print, tied to the side at my waist.

I complete my outfit with a nice pair of ass hugging jeans and the white running sneakers Fallon had bought me. Fallon's favorite color is black but he loves how white looks on me. I could have changed into any of the more girly outfits he purchased, but there's something about wearing your lover's clothes that just speaks to me.

"Hey, I could be punk, look at my hair," I giggle, crossing my eyes to get a look at my grungy looking tresses.

"You can't name one band!" Brielle laughs.

"Blue Autumn, ha!" I counter.

"Now name one not on the top forty," Brielle challenges.

She's got me there. I only listen to Blue Autumn because their music transcends genre but the twenty-something hipster in me fights the urge to remind her I liked them before they were cool.

"You can't. Ha!" Brielle strolls from the kitchen with a sippy cup. "But you know who can...?" she sings.

Fallon loves punk music. He liked most music but while we were dating I was sure he loved punk rock more than me and that was a lot.

"You caught me," I sarcastically declare.

"I'm not judging," Bree assures me.

She couldn't. I've done worse and even if I hadn't it's not her business.

"So... did you two...?" she asks, taking Adonis from my hands and placing him down with his Thomas The Train set.

"F-U-C-K?" I spell with a hard K. "Y-E-S. B-E-C-A-U-S-E—" I quickly spell out, having more fun with this than I should.

"Stop!" Brielle laughs, hitting my arm as she sits beside me.

"Gage is seeing people." I avert my eyes. "I guess I want to feel... Wanted, you know? Fallon looks at me like I'm the only girl in the world and I need that right now." I speak in a hushed whisper.

Brielle is quiet for a moment. I know I probably sound ridiculous, unable to look her in the eyes.

"Fuck, he sucks," she sighs, and it makes me giggle. "Don't get me wrong, I love Gage, but fuuuuuck he sucks!" Brielle groans, and I don't know why but I can't stop laughing.

"Yeah, I love him too," I giggle.

"I mean, shit! I get it; this life is hard but—" she rambles.

"Bree, you're a wealthy med student dating a billionaire lawyer. No matter how shit our lives began none of us have any idea what it's like to build up from nothing, let alone go to war." I remind her.

Gage may be a genius but it was his mind that afforded his family the lives they are accustomed to. The son of a Cuban immigrant and a black waitress from Georgia, they moved to Athens because at the time it was what they could afford.

They were loving but both worked two jobs to care for their three children and nephew David, who was the one who noticed my then seven-year-old husband's mind didn't work like other children.

They knew he was a serious child but Gage was also adaptive, playing the adorable little boy because he knew it made his mommy and daddy smile but also completing his sisters high school assignments with great ease. A month into living with them, David Medina noticed Gage's thirst for knowledge surpassed anyone he had ever met. The teen wondered to himself if maybe his little cousin was a New Gen.

At the time there were quacks who tried to correlate emotional disorders to D3 exposure, making it out to seem as though all of us affected were ticking time bombs. I know David didn't have that fear, it's not how he thought. I know he probably felt it would be better to get ahead of it in case the rumors were true.

David blew the whistle that Gage's sisters hadn't done their own school work in years. Encouraging Gage to show his parents how his mind truly worked which prompted them to have their youngest child tested.

Instead of using his grants on his education, Gage invested in real estate. His family's properties around town were a gamble he knew would be profitable, but he also wanted respect. Gage had known since he was young, money warranted respect, all he had to do was give up his childhood for it.

When he was seventeen, he enlisted in the military following in David's footsteps and the world went to war shortly after due to a bombing in France. Gage doesn't talk about that time but whatever he did skyrocketed his military career. He says, he never knew what it was like to feel normal until me and I don't think a lot of people would know what any of that's like.

"I know..." Now Brielle's the one looking away. "I'm just saying, I wish he found a therapist instead of—"

"Sophie and Kora," I sigh.

"God, even their names are stupid!" she berates, jumping from her seat.

"Mommy no!" Adonis scolds.

It might be crude but after my brother got into her, four letter words have been a regular part of Brielle's casual speech. Adonis doesn't even flich at the word fuck but the scolding look on his face makes me feel like I'm the one in trouble.

"I'm sorry Don, mommy used aggressive words," Brielle says with a pout. "We're teaching him to choose his words wisely. That one is a mean word," she explains, which is ironic since my brother is in a deep belief that a lot of the population is rightfully stupid.

Brielle bends the corner into the kitchen to fix Adonis a snack. "End of the day, all that matters is what makes you happy. You deserve to be happy, Rue, I just want you to have what we have," she calls.

If Brielle and Wrenner are happy then I am ecstatic. It's a bonus that they found their happiness in each other.

We were thrown into this life without parachutes and expected to survive because we were crashing into cold water and not cement. No one ever realizes it's the same thing depending on how high the fall.

She's sweet but I won't ever have what they have. There's not many people who know what it's like to live within that limbo between our old worlds and the new one.

I look at Adonis, peacefully playing alone and he is yet another thing I won't have. I am met by the intrusive thought of a little boy sitting down to play beside him. It's rare but when I'm stressed, my condition causes me to have these illusions. Subconscious hauntings manifesting into physical forms.

My son has my toothy smile with his father's dark eyes and dark brown hair. He comes to me in my dreams sometimes and we sit in an all white room that has nothing but a white fuzzy rug at its center and play until his father comes to take him away from me.

My teeth clench and I take a deep breath. I can't play with you right now. I think to myself, knowing my figment can hear me. He doesn't look upset by the rejection, meeting me with his smile that matches my own and I think that's what hurts me more.

I don't blame my child for my former addiction. I was young, and in pain, and needed anything that would make it stop. I do think he is why my body rejected his half sibling so early on. As if to say, it wouldn't be fair if you loved something else like you love me.

"That's a little too Shakespearean for me," I joke crudely, watching the haunting fade away.

"God, you're gross sometimes!" Brielle laughs.

"Hey, you said it not me," I laugh along.

Wren and I have always been close. To some people we were too close; some snuff reporter once made a gross blog piece about my brother, claiming he had it on good authority Wrenner is in love with me.

It was deeply disgusting. I didn't even feel bad when I read in the paper his gas line exploded. It might be extreme but I believe in karma and it saved Wrenner the time of a defamation suit.

"Whatever," Brielle calls. "This is great honestly, you date Fallon, move back here—"

I hum my displeasure at that statement. While sex can feel so much like love, unlike my bestfriend me having sex with someone doesn't mean I am in love. I'm definitely not going to uproot my life because Fallon Lynch made me cum.

"It was just one night, Bree, and I am still married. Cool the wedding bells," I laugh at her.

"You said yourself Fallon—" she reasons.

"Is a boost to my ego. That's all."

"Well maybe you need more than a boost." Her voice is firm and slightly frustrated. "Fallon truly loves you—"

"Fallon doesn't love me," I laugh.

He doesn't. We have a bond. As I scribble passages about him in the pages of my journal I remember it was a crush that was amplified by a shit situation. It's not love. We're just having fun.

"Sure." Brille says dismissively. "I won't even debate that. I like Gage. I like that he makes you happy but you're both so different. Fallon was perfect for you, besides, if you get close to Fallon again, maybe Wren—"

That is a lot of statements to unpack but I latch on to the one that sticks out like a sore thumb.

"Wren?"

Brielle goes quiet for a moment before calling to Addy if he would prefer oranges or apples. He chooses the oranges and I continue my acquisition.

"Wren?"

She sighs, "Wrenner and Fallon... work together. They don't want you to know yet so shut shut up about it!" she orders.

So many things. I squint.

"Mommy!" Adonis scolds.

"I mean, please be quiet," Brielle corrects.

Okay. When did my brother start keeping secrets from me and how can he and Fallon work together?

Wrenner does defense law. He is starting his own firm which is going to make him the second youngest lawyer in the world to make partner with some heavy hitters and I think if I understand correctly Fallon is kind of like a glorified secretary for a private marketing firm.

I'm not that bright but I know those things don't go and even if they do...

"Why am I always finding out things about him from other people?" I say, more to myself. Only learning about Wrenner's firm after seeing him on the cover of Forbes at the market.

"You know Wren, he hates it when his next steps are thrown on the cover of some magazine," Brielle calls.

"I'm his sister, not a journalist," I regretfully say, wondering if I would be if I chose not to follow Gage. I shake that thought from my head asking about my brother and Fallon's secret work. My curiosity gets the better of me.

"Since when do you care what Wren does?" Brielle's laugh is weirdly nervous.

"Always, I'm his mom. Now be a good daughter in-law and give mama the tea."

Brielle sighs, knowing that I won't drop it she says, "Venture Capitalism. Like it or not you're both Idris' people scramble to get around you but it's hard to know who to trust. Wren trust Fallon."

Well shit. That's kind of big. I don't know what the fuck Venture Capatalisim is and it sounds boring if you ask me but my brother trusting someone is a big deal.

Jamal Miller and Chucky are some of his oldest friends and he put them on a year's probation before he even told them we weren't STARS kids like they believed. Though noting she had our fathers eyes, Wrenner DNA tested our older sister, Ever against my wishes. He and Brielle broke up for a month when they were teenagers because she learned he hired someone to follow her on her trip to the islands with her friends.

Trust isn't something Wren gives lightly.

Brielle sets down Don's fruit on his little baby table in the corner, a nose-wrinkling smile on my face, watching him push himself up to get it. Bree looks over her shoulder and smiles at me, so proud of the adorable ball she made.

"It's truly boring." she tells me.

"Sounds like it." I agree.

"Well, knowing you, it might be another ten months before I see you again so, wanna drink? With Em always working, I only have mommy friends now and they all judge me for it. Oh no, one simply can't partake while breastfeeding. Lose their shit when they learn he is bottle fed," she says, walking back to the kitchen.

"Man, F dose Bs; break out the grown-up juice and sippy straws!" I declare.