And just like that, the storm inside my head quieted… if only for a while.

I couldn’t sleep.

Well—I lay down. Stared at the ceiling. Willed the fan to hypnotize me into unconsciousness. But the words wouldn’t stop circling.

“You can’t spend your life wearing a raincoat just because one storm nearly drowned you.”

It wasn't such a Joy thing to say but it stuck.

Around midnight, I started remembering.

Not the horrible things. Not the shadows or the raised voices or the scars that still ache sometimes.

No, I remembered Ethan.

Real Ethan. Unfiltered, chaotic, completely unaware of personal space Ethan.

Like the time he stole a bag of chips and made me run from a guard claiming that “I looked like I needed exercise.” Or when he dragged me outside after a storm just to show me the weird cloud that looked like a sea serpent. It didn’t. It looked like a banana. But we argued for twenty minutes and laughed until I forgot what sadness felt like.

I remembered how he always snuck out with me almost every night.

The way he smirked when he was about to say something infuriating.

The way he looked at me that one time—like he saw me. Not as a nerd or a classmate. As Clark.

And then, of course, there was when he saved me. Glowing forehead, righteous rage, ocean-god swagger and all.

I smiled.

Actually, I just… lay there, staring at the ceiling, and smiled like a total idiot. If anyone had walked in, I would’ve faked a sneeze or something equally ridiculous.

But it was real. The first unforced smile in days. Maybe weeks.

The ceiling was still just the ceiling, but it didn’t look as heavy anymore.

By dawn, the sky was painted with that soft pink-blue hush that makes everything feel more possible. The birds were being annoyingly optimistic outside my window. I couldn’t take it anymore.

I picked up my phone and hit Joy’s contact.

She picked up after two rings, groggy but alert—like someone who has a sixth sense for chaos.

“Clark?” she mumbled. “Is this a panic attack or a food craving? Blink once for pizza.”

“I need a levitating bunny,” I said.

There was a pause.

Then: “Oh. Oh. You’re going full Clark.”

“Yes.”

“Give me thirty minutes and an energy drink,” she said, already more awake. “We’re gonna do something stupid and possibly emotional, aren’t we?”

“I think so.”

“Excellent. Meet me at the old bridge. Shun’s coming. I’m bringing glitter.”

“…Why glitter?”