LOOKOUT

PART 2: REMEMBRANCE

I walked home from the café, dragging my feet across the busy streets of New York. My head is pounding, and my heart is beating like crazy. The last time I felt adrenaline rushing through my veins like this was when I first typed the name Prince Aubrey in my blank word document when I was just a silly student with a crush and an unhealthy outlet. I can't believe it's been five years.

Sipping on my green beverage, I rummage through my purse to get the long vape pen in my purse. I fucking hate this thing, but my editor, Andy, begged me to try and use it to get over my cigarette addiction and although I haven't stopped using my cigarettes, I sure as hell am not going to bump into him and get caught red-handed.

My thoughts race back to Aubrey, our awkward encounter is a reminder of why we spent all three years of university avoiding each other. University is like a small bubble; we were constantly surrounded by each other. When I first walked into my student halls, a fidgety and pimply teenager, I bumped into a just as awkward teenage Aubrey. He lived on the floor above me, and we smiled at each other whenever we see each other on the staircase. Later, I saw him again in my Literary Studies module. His eyes widened in recognition, and he waved me over. I sat next to him, and we muttered a quiet "Hi". We sat next to each other every class until I found my own group of friends. Then, just when I thought we've been separated from each other, I see him sitting in our university's book club society. Later that week, I bump into him again at the school's Literary Paper society. All three years of university went like this for us. Wherever I was, Aubrey was. We were in all the same classes, all the same societies, all the same parties but somehow, it's like no matter how close, our social bubbles never collided. We never really spoke much.

I'm brought out of memory lane when I notice I've already reached my apartment. Somehow, I managed to walk thirty minutes through the crowded streets on autopilot. Shaking the nostalgic thoughts from my head, I grab my keys from my pockets to unlock the doors to the redbrick apartment complex I call home. I twist the key once, grab the handle and pull, I jiggle the keys until I hear an audible click. The door opens. Making my way down the halls and up to five flights of stairs, I open the doors to my flat. I yell out "Nora!" and turn to check if my flatmate is there. Hearing nothing back, I throw my purse on the cream couch in my living room and throw myself on it.

I let out a long, tired sigh. Kicking my shoes off, I instinctively reach out for my laptop. My thoughts are racing with Aubrey, no matter how much I don't want them to. I feel a stroke of inspiration to write something, anything, ever since bumping into him this morning. I open my grey MacBook and watch as the screen loads. Clicking on a fresh new Word document, I hold my breath. I haven't written anything from the Lookout series in months, I keep being hounded by my publishing company to at least start writing it, but I could never bring myself to. For a long time now, Aubrey has been fading from my memory, he became nothing but a blurry image of a boy I was once so enamoured by. Ever since seeing him again though, all I could think about is how easily the words flow through me. I press the letters on my keyboard, completely focused.

CHAPTER 1 - THE RETURN

It's been three years since the fall of King Aubrey. A beautiful ceremony was held in his honour. At least that's what I heard. Witches don't get invited to these things, for fear we might curse and hex and cause chaos. Usually, that would be the case, but I didn't want to cause chaos. I only wanted to see him again. To everyone, he meant something. To the witches, he was the ruler responsible for the destruction of magic. To the elves, he was a foolish and selfish royal. To the humans, he was a hero. He was just Aubrey to me. My beloved Aubrey.

I visit his grave every fortnight.

The words keep coming to me, I only get up when I need to go to the bathroom and get a large cup of coffee. I keep typing, unsure where the story is going. I can't even see the time, thanks to the bright pink sticky note always covering the clock on my laptop. I only become aware of the time when I hear the door to my flat open. "Honey, I'm home!" Nora's voice rings in the flat, and I look up as she walks into the living room. I give her a smile and mutter a "Hi," before returning to my laptop. She stares at me for a second before sighing.