In Hell We Dance

Epilogue: Purpose

Two years. Two years is all it takes to change your life.

It was a long two years, and yet it passed by before I knew it. Funny that, how time slips past you like that. What's there to tell?

Oh, I moved out. Yeah, dad and I... Let's just say we still aren't on good talking terms. He finally found the time in his schedule to give me a proper scolding... Four weeks later. That was four weeks of movies, ice cream and lunches with Aiden. And when I was at home, and Isaac's absence became too much, Oscar would be there. Isaac had done the impossible. He'd bridged the gap. There would always be a little awkwardness there. It's too hard to shake. But there he was, and because of him, because of Aiden, and Corin, I found the strength to take that first step.

Back to uni I went, to get a course in teaching. Art specifically, which mum supported. My fashion dream will never die, but I've gotta start somewhere. I'd come out eighteen months later with a few new friends, a crystal certainty, and the eagerness to teach blossoming young minds.

I'd had to share a dorm, which I couldn't afford if not for mum sending me monthly cheques. Discreetly, I'd imagine. Whatever else can be said about her, she's still my mum, and she could see that this is what I needed. Not Hell. Not a sprawling empire. Just... Me.

Uni was a lot more fun second time round. My dorm mates were a blast. Louise. Nat. Miles. God, I had the hots for Miles. Don't tell him.

There were a few advances from some cute guys, but I never took it anywhere. My heart was, and always is for that one crimson inferno.

Technically I had one more term, but it was an exchange program. There was this prestigious academy in Canada my teacher recommended to me that was looking for art interns. It cost a pretty penny, but mum had my back even then. Besides, it's fucking snow and Canadians! What's not to love?!

When my breaks came, and I wasn't hanging with my uni mates, or Aiden or Corin, I would meet mum at a different venue. Sometimes Oscar would join us, and we'd chat over milkshakes, talk like we'd never talked before, living in a world apart from dad. Oscar was dad's newest target, the weight of an entire company on his tiny shoulders, but in these escapes, he was unburdened. So was I.

Oh, and you really think Isaac and I never spoke in all that time? He called once a week, at least. No to mention the thousands of texts. I'm sure his phone bill was humbling. I had to be careful too. It was different. Weird, but if this is what normal is, it's not half bad.

He had a small job as a house mover, with ambitious plans to be a stunt man in films. Guess he still lived for that thrill. Levelling a building wasn't enough excitement for one life. He'd video chat me, showing me his little sis, Jessica, and I'd wave like I was a proud uncle. That kept me sane, through it all. You just needed to keep yourself surrounded by good people, and you never lose sight of what's important. I couldn't. I had no one. I'd resigned my life to being crushed into a little grey box, a bolt in the machine. Now I had purpose, and people with me every day to remind me of that.

And that's never changed, and I see their faces. See them now as I climb off my plane, arriving in snowy Canada. I told Isaac about my intern program, and he'd been giddy knowing how close I was. I could feel it, an invisible thread. We were close. Admittedly a few thousand miles still, but I could feel him there.  I'd told him I was coming of course, but even with the breached distance, he was too poor to make the trip over here. For now.

My phone buzzes, and as people jostle past me, I feel miserable as hell. Jet-lagged, knowing I still had to catch another helicopter ride to get to the damn academy. Coffee will get me through.

It's a text. From Isaac. 

'Hey rabbit. Look up.'

That's weird. But I do look up, and my heart stops. Standing at the end of the rope barrier, arms stretched wide, my spiky-haired love with the wildfire eyes. He'd done the impossible. As usual.

His grin consumes me, and I feel my knees buckle under me. Is it weird if I just want to break out into a little dance? For old times' sake. I'm sure he won't mind.