A Gilmore's Return

Chapter Thirty-One: Fractures in Focus

Alessia sat at her desk, staring blankly at her laptop screen. The photos from earlier that week glared back at her, their lack of authenticity gnawing at her nerves. She sighed, closing her eyes for a moment, feeling the mounting pressure in her chest.

The dorm was unusually quiet. Riley was away at his hockey tournament, leaving Alessia without her usual source of sarcastic banter and grounding energy. She tried to call Logan earlier, but he was swamped with his own work. Instead of succumbing to the overwhelm, Alessia stood abruptly, grabbing her camera from the desk.

She pulled on her coat and stepped out into the chilly Harvard night. The campus was calm, the paths sparsely dotted with students hurrying between buildings. Alessia let her feet carry her aimlessly, the cool air helping clear her mind.

The soft glow of a streetlamp lit up the edge of the quad, casting long shadows over the fallen leaves. Alessia stopped, her fingers adjusting the settings on her camera instinctively. A group of students sat on the steps of the library, their laughter ringing out in the quiet night. She raised her camera, framing the shot.

The click of the shutter felt like a release. She captured another moment, then another, her chest loosening with each photo. For the first time in days, she felt like herself again.

Back in her dorm, Alessia uploaded the photos, her lips quirking into a small smile. They weren't perfect, but they felt real. That was enough for tonight.

Her phone buzzed on the desk. She picked it up and, on impulse, called Riley.

The line rang twice before his familiar voice came through. "Alessia. What's up?"

"Not much," she said, leaning back in her chair. "Just finished wandering campus like a tortured artist. You know, searching for meaning or whatever."

Riley snorted. "Sounds pretentious."

"It was," she admitted, grinning. "But it worked. I think I got a few good shots tonight."

"Look at you, being all productive." Riley sounded half-distracted, like he was pacing or fiddling with something.

"What about you?" Alessia asked. "How's the tournament going?"

"Not bad. We won our first two games, but things are intense. Coach is all over us, and Beau..." Riley hesitated.

"What about Beau?"

"He's in full-on 'prove myself' mode," Riley admitted. "The coach is looking for a captain next season, and Beau's basically running himself into the ground trying to make sure it's him."

Alessia frowned, concern tightening her expression. "Is he okay?"

Riley let out a long breath. "Not really. He's been staying late after practice, putting in extra time on the ice. It's not anything crazy yet, but... I can tell he's starting to wear himself thin."

"That sounds like Beau," Alessia said softly.

"Yeah, but it's worse this time. He's pushing too hard."

"You should talk to him," Alessia urged. "Like, really talk to him. Sometimes people don't realize they're spiraling until someone calls it out."

Riley chuckled dryly. "You're one to talk. When was the last time you didn't put the weight of the world on your shoulders?"

"Hey, I'm actually handling my stress, thank you very much," Alessia shot back, though there was a hint of sheepishness in her tone. "I went outside and took photos instead of imploding. Progress, right?"

"Wow, growth," Riley teased.

"Shut up," she said with a laugh. "But seriously, keep an eye on him. You're probably the only person he'd listen to."

"I'll try," Riley promised. "And you? Take care of yourself too, okay? No late-night existential crises without me."

"I'll do my best."

They hung up, and Alessia leaned back in her chair, staring at her photos again. They weren't groundbreaking, but they were hers.

For the first time in days, that felt like enough.