Grace's POV

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I sat down on the floor, against the foot of my bed, in front of the long wall mirror. I could feel the water droplets dripping down my freshly showered hair, soaking the back of my dark blue sweater.

It was all quiet and empty, almost evening by now. I was kind of glad when I pulled up my knees against my chest and saw Frost running into my room, stopping in front of me and waggling his white furred tail.

Stroking his ears with one hand, I picked up my discarded blue jeans from my bed. Frost pulled away from me and tried getting up on my bed. Meanwhile I pulled the jeans closer towards me and stuffed my hand inside the back pocket.

I couldn't help but notice how it smelled like mud and leaves and blood, and at that moment I really wished I had washed it beforehand.

I took out the crumbled piece of paper and pushed away the jeans. I didn't want to think about that night. I didn't want to think about Fraser, even though it had just been few days since that incident happened.

Like I had expected, things dulled down even further after that whole incident. Almost everyone knew that Fraser was killed. Even if I tried to convince myself otherwise, the flashes of those black petals and the blood around him would stop me. Every single person at that party saw that, at least until the ambulance arrived. Still, no one knew who did it.

No one except Luca and I. And we both hadn't exactly told the real truth when we had been brought in for questioning by the officers, along with the others that were present at that after-match party.

Even though Alice deserved to know the things I knew behind Fraser's death, I hadn't talked to her either. She hadn't exactly reacted properly and I didn't want to scare her even further. She wasn't there at school today and I pretty much hadn't seen her for the entire weekend.

Amidst the whole chaos surrounding Fraser's death, Alice's parents had arranged a small funeral for him. I could've seen Alice there but I didn't go. I hadn't wanted to. I hated funerals and I hated knowing that someone was gone forever.

I had thousands of questions circling my head each night after that incident. I barely slept and all I could think about was the blood surrounding Fraser's body.

Frost's bark broke me out of my thoughts as he managed to finally roll over my bed. I looked back at the paper and opened it slowly, trying to smooth it out. I wasn't surprised to see most of the words smudged with something that looked like blood to me. Or maybe it was dirt and I was just being paranoid.

The words written on the paper looked rushed, the sloppy handwriting filling almost the entire page.

Before I could've started reading those words, my eyes flickered away from the page, not wanting to read it. I closed my eyes shut and pulled my knees back towards my chest. I could feel something constricting in my chest, a feeling that seemed horrible at that moment.

A small thud made me jerk up and open my eyes only to see that Frost had somehow managed to drop one of my books, piled up on my bed, down on the floor. Once again, I was reminded to get a grip on myself. I was starting to freak out over the tiniest things, noises that weren't even that loud.

Burner was out there somewhere.

His men and Burner himself would get to me sooner or later and that thought was the mere reason why I was starting to get paranoid on the littlest things.

"It's fine." I murmured to myself, letting my heart slow down to its normal pace.

This time, I held onto my breath and looked back at the paper, at the words that I was sure were written by Fraser himself.

I almost grimaced when my thumb touched the dried brown dirt along the top corner of the paper, noticing that the first few lines were smeared with it. Most of them were.

Without wasting another second, I started reading out the words that were visible enough, trying to make sense of them at the same time.

"" I read in a whisper, my eyes fixated on the page in front of me. ""

I stopped and looked at the next words to find them caked with the same dried mud. I tried wiping it off but it only resulted in tearing the paper. With an irritated frown, I trailed my eyes towards the other words that I could make out.

"" My breath hitched a little when I saw my name. But then again, a part inside me had been expecting the worst. ""

I closed my mouth shut, stopping myself from reading the next words. Everything about this was strangely overwhelming and I really did not like this feeling.

"" The next few words were smudged too. "I'm sorry for that and for Frost. Frost was being , he was being trained under Burner's orders but he ran awayGrace really"

I felt a small lump forming in my throat as I sat there looking at Fraser's possibly last words.

"I won't be alive when you find thisthis," I stopped reading when I noticed how the next part wasn't visible at all. Only the last few words were, before the note finished.

"" I read out loud, my voice coming out a bit raspy.

Frost barked out loudly before throwing his chew-toy near my feet and nudging my leg with his snout. Instead of looking at him, I let my eyes wander off to those last few words again.

The red seed.

•••••

"Why the sudden leave, though?" Sally -the only other employee here at Welsh's Bar that I was on speaking terms with- asked. "You were doing just fine working here, weren't you?"

I placed my elbows on the smooth black counter in front of me and fidgeted a little with my sweater sleeves. "Yeah. I just don't feel like working here anymore."

Which wasn't exactly a lie.

"Oh," Was all she said as she picked up a table cloth and wiped her hands with it. Judging by the numerous tattoos crawling up both of her forearms, she was probably few years older than me. And she reminded me a lot of Samantha.

I wonder where she would be right now.

I cupped my fingers around the glass in front of me, halfway filled with something that was surely containing alcohol. I wasn't even sure if people came here in this bar, especially at nights, and didn't get drunk.

"What was this again?" I found myself asking Sally, directing my gaze towards the glass in my hands.

She glanced at me before getting busy with making another one of the cocktails. "Orange Margarita. You said you needed to drink something that'll make you feel relaxed."

I eyed the drink once again, a feeling of uneasiness slowly growing in my stomach. "I don't like getting drunk."

She raised a pierced brow but said nothing. Again, I was reminded of how much she actually resembled Samantha, my gym coach. If the circumstances were easy and normal, I would've met up with Samantha one of these days. I really missed those days when I used to train with her in her private gymnasium.

I really wished I could go back to those times.

"You've never been drunk before?" Sally asked. "How old are you even? I'm guessing at least 18 since you work in this bar."

"Worked." I corrected her since I really had just resigned from this job. I wasn't going to do the night shifts anymore, or any shifts at all.

I still hadn't decided as to how I'd actually manage the whole money issue. I'm guessing Frank wouldn't be too enthusiastic to take me back for this job, especially since I just quitted it.

And that wasn't even because of how tiresome it was. Quitting this job was merely because of everything that was going on around me. I didn't feel safe anymore. I didn't feel safe with walking back home at such hour of the night. Things were only getting worse and I couldn't help but get more paranoid.

Especially after what happened with Fraser.

"I've got drunk before," I told Sally. "I hate that feeling. Getting drunk."

She raised both of her brows this time, probably not getting what I meant. "You should loosen up a little. You know, like those chicks behind you."

I didn't have to look behind me to figure out who she was talking about. My mind had clearly memorized the late night atmosphere here in Welsh's Bar. Loud music, bright colorful lights, drunk people. It really didn't seem like relaxing to me.

I gingerly picked up the glass and placed the rim of it against my lips, taking a small sip and scrunching up my nose at the sour taste.

I didn't even know why I was drinking this in the first place. I had school tomorrow. And when I came to quit this job, I hadn't exactly planned on getting drunk. I hadn't planned on doing anything actually.

Not until my thoughts had drifted over to that note I had read earlier, the note with Fraser's words. I wasn't safe. Jack wasn't safe. No one was safe at all. And I didn't know how to fix this, especially since I had no idea what Burner was even after.

The red seed.

What was that even?

I felt engulfed with so many emotions and that didn't help either. I didn't want to feel scared, or anxious, or sad. I wished that I could flip that switch off; not feel anything for a while.

I took another sip of the drink and found myself thinking about Alice. A part of me was glad that she wasn't asking me about anything, staying away from me. Even Luca and I hadn't talked about any of this either.

"When was the last time you got drunk?" Sally asked, breaking me out from my thoughts. "Because I do hope it wasn't too long ago, or you'll be kind of in a bad hangover after this." She pointed at the glass in my hands.

I just shrugged in response, because I didn't want to tell her about the last time I got drunk. The night that I clearly didn't remember about.

So much had changed after that night.

"The last time I got drunk was two years ago, and I don't remember anything about that night." I found myself telling her. I had almost finished the drink halfway and my words slurred a little at the end.

She cracked a grin at me. "Too bad to remember?"

I shrugged again because really, I didn't remember.

"Too good to remember?" She suggested.

"Maybe."

She chuckled lightly at that before moving towards the other customer. I looked back at my drink and swirled it's contents, watching as the liquid rippled. Then I inhaled deeply and stood up from the black stool, pushing the glass away.

Sally glanced at my direction and then at my glass. "You're leaving?"

I just nodded.

She wiped her hands again with the table cloth and placed another guy's drink towards him. "Do you need to call someone to pick you up?"

"No," I said. I didn't even know who would bother coming to pick me up when it was probably midnight by now.

Maybe Luca?

"I can drop you off?" She suggested casually. And really she was just being nice but I knew that her shift wasn't supposed to end until another hour or so.

"No, thanks. I think I'll be fine." I said. "Besides, I don't think I'm drunk." And I really wasn't that drunk.

I left her and the bar counter, heading for the exit. Part of me didn't want to leave the crowd for those terrifyingly empty streets. But the other part of me knew how much better it was if I left right now rather than wait few more hours until it was way past midnight.

I squeezed past the crowd, almost about to reach the exit when someone seized my wrist.

I turned around so abruptly that if it weren't for my slightly drunk senses and blurry vision, I would've hit the person right on the face. Also, the person happened to be Luca.

His eyes widened a little at my sudden reaction but he still didn't back off.

"What is wrong with you?" I spoke up loudly, but since the music was too loud it was only him who heard me. "What are you even doing here?"

"Following you, of course." He rolled his eyes. Then he leaned closer and narrowed his eyes. "You're not drunk, are you?"

I backed away a little and shook my head, almost a little frantically. "What? No!"

His fingers that were wrapped around my wrist went lower and intertwined with my own. "You know what? I'm glad I decided to follow you."

I opened my mouth to ask him what the hell did he mean by that when he started heading for the exit, pulling me behind him.

Just as we reached outside, a rush of cold air hit me out of nowhere. Maybe it was just the night sky, or maybe it was the empty dark street, that I couldn't help but feel a little panicked. The only sense of warmth and reassurance seemed to come from Luca's hand around mine, and I found myself squeezing his hand in response.

If he noticed it, he didn't react at all. All he did was pull me along as we started walking towards the way which probably led to our houses.

"Why were you about to get drunk?" He asked, sparing me a small glance.

I looked over at the narrow alleyway on my right, fear and panic slowly clouding my chest. I was more than glad that he was here with me right now.

"Why were you stalking me?" I asked him instead of answering.

He clearly didn't seem bothered by that as he answered, "I needed to make sure that you reach home safe."

I looked at him sideways, the moonlight shining over his soft brown curls as the wind whipped at them. He slowed down his stride just a bit so that I could catch up.

"I wasn't about to get drunk." I murmured, looking down at our hands. "I just took few sips."

He ran the other hand through his hair, a small frown forming on his forehead. "You have to stop working there. You know it's dangerous. You can't just walk back home all alone."

"I know." I said, blinking back the sudden exhaustion. My legs felt tired. I wanted to lay in my bed and never wake up, at least for the next few days.

"You could've called me." He pointed out.

"I know."

He glanced at me again. "Why didn't you?"

"Because." I stopped there, because I really didn't know what else to say. I was tired and I was freaking out and I was scared. "I don't know."

He didn't say anything after that. We just kept on walking in silence and I let myself dwell into my thoughts. The same thoughts that scared me sometimes.

"Do you wish that things were the same like they were two years ago?" The moment I spoke up that question, I realized how stupid it actually was.

He was silent at that and that made me think that he probably didn't hear me. Not until he spoke up, "Why wouldn't I?"

And I couldn't help but think about how things were two years ago. I had a family. I had a best friend. I was happy and certainly not fucked up.

"What happened that night?" I asked him.

"Which night?" His voice sounded devoid of any emotion, as if he really didn't know what I was talking about.

"The night before I left for Manhattan." Even saying it out loud was kind of hard. But now that I voiced out that question, I needed to know about it. "The night I got drunk and don't remember anything about."

He didn't look at me this time and I saw the way he clenched his jaw. Still, he didn't say anything and I felt his grip around my hand loosening a bit.

Out of instinct, I stopped and gripped his hand, making him stop too. He inhaled deeply and turned towards me. "I don't know what you're talking about, Rose."

"Don't lie, Luca." I spoke up.

His eyes found mine and we stared at each other for the next few seconds. His seemed to soften up a bit and I felt the slight fear inside me drifting away.

"We kissed. I thought I told you that." He said.

"Apart from that."

He glanced behind his shoulder and tugged on my hand, pulling me closer. "I can't tell you. And we should get going."