the sounds of the door creaking open made her mother's ears perk instantly. she was waiting for this moment for nearly twenty-four hours. molly tip-toed in, although she knew there would be no avoiding it.

she walked straight past her mother without batting an eye. that was, until, her mother stopped her.

"molly mayweather, you come right back here," she seethed. with teeth gritted and hair in a tizzy, her mother was raging. molly closed her eyes, took a deep breath and turned around. she was just at the bottom of the second step, too.

she slowly walked back over to her mother who was standing in the doorway of the kitchen.

"would you like to tell me why you didn't come home yesterday, and why you didn't even bother to call and say whether or not you were coming home?"

"i can explain," molly's mother seemed to be hanging on only by a thread. "i got caught up in something when i tried to get home... wait, aren't you mad?"

"i'm only mad because you're blowing your future away. it cost me nearly nothing, molly. you could've become a doctor!" she explained. "i was worried sick!"

"it wasn't my fault, i-"

"you're smarter than that. you could've found a way around whatever obstacle you were facing," she replied sorely. "but, you didn't. what will you do now? become a prostitute?"

"i can look for jobs, mother. as you said, i'm smart," molly hastily responded. she looked down at her feet and the shoes her mother bought her. the clothes her mother bought. the carpet her mother bought.

now it was her responsibility.

"apparently not smart enough," that was when her mother really hurt her. "find a job, you shite." she murmured the last part as she walked away, flinging a dish-rag to the side.

molly stood there, tears in her eyes. she dared not let them fall, so she kept her eyes on the ceiling. sighing heavily, she forced her legs to be under her control as she lugged herself up the stairs.

she didn't bother bringing her luggage in. what would be the point? she assumed her mother would kick her out. perhaps she was more merciful than she anticipated. giving in to the tug in her heart, she let the tears flow out only when she reached her near-empty room. there were only pink and yellow curtains and her sheetless bed.

she looked around. oh, the memories. how many sleepless nights did she spend in here, thinking of paul and john, her first loves?

she leaned back into her door after closing it, feeling a rush of emotions come on. she let it all out. the tears. the heartache. the pain.

no college. no friends. no job. no george. no john. no paul or pete or stu. no stick. the only thing she had was sadness in her eyes and guilt weighing her down.

she quietly sobbed, probably getting salty tears and snot everywhere. she felt her dress hitch up, but she didn't care. she couldn't care less, in fact. she might as well just strip naked and lay in the total abyss of nothing as she fades away.

she couldn't do that. could she?

molly wiped her tears off her cheeks and chin. she stood up and walked over to her bed to continue crying there, curled into a ball, but she hit her foot on something under the bed on the way.

"oh, my—heaven's sake! good grace..." she looked down to see what hit her foot.

she couldn't see it from standing up, so she sat back down on her carpeted floor, pulling a small box out from under the bed. it seemed to be a shoebox. one she couldn't recognize, though.

she carefully lifted the lid open. inside held numerous photos of her as a child, a few recent ones, too. one of them was her just a few weeks previous when she was at practice with the guys.

someone—she couldn't recall who—took the picture. she had just cut her bangs, and she had to admit, she looked pretty good. her cheekbones were prominent, her jawline in perfect form, her eyes directed just at the right angle.

john was looking devilishly handsome behind her, holding his guitar close to his chest. they were the only two in the shot, but whoever took the photo took many more.

"how did i miss this?" molly muttered to herself, silently sniffling.

another showed her back, john's glorious side-profile and paul's giddy face in front of molly. george was standing right beside paul, looking goofy and smiley. stuart and pete were shown in other pictures, she assumed.

she looked through some others of her and her father, some of her and george at a dinner party somewhere when they were younger. she looked the same, just less distinctive features. george's hair looked nice and combed. he had the best head of hair one could get as a child.

she smiled at the photos, forgetting the pain that once instilled itself into her and her nervous system. the tears were soon dried up, and she'd forgotten all about what she was crying about before.

one photo, in particular, made her heart flutter. it was one of her and paul when they were dating two years or so prior.

paul had molly in his lap, both of them smiling like two idiots in love. which, they were. they were sitting on one of paul's hideous couches. the material was awful and the couch, in general, was unsupportive.

molly wasn't in his lap before the picture. john, who was behind the camera insisted they be in that specific pose. she didn't really mind, but she remembered to hop off him when the photo had been shot.

she didn't think she could ever forget the memories she made with the boys. just seeing the pictures made her remember the circumstances in which they were taken in the first place. it seemed so long ago that she'd moved to liverpool in the first place, let alone two years ago. thank god for cameras.

she picked up some more photos, looking over all the photos one last time. she smiled at each one of them. she closed the box back up and set it on her bed as she sat down with it.

finally, molly knew she was ready to start her life as an adult. where you may ask, did she get her first job?

that was easy. the good 'ole flower shop, of course!

*

"you're hired."

"i-i am?" she was shocked. she didn't think it would be that easy.

"yeah. we need more workers, anyway. you can run the register. you know basic math, right?" the old woman asked.

it was there, at the shop, that saturday. molly concocted a whole plan. get a job. raise money to move to an apartment or house. preferably a house.

"erm... yeah!" she said, basically astounded.

"swell," the lady said. her name was barb. she was nice.

barb shoved an apron into molly's hands and took off her own. she threw it to the side and put her hands on her hips, handing her a small paper. it had molly's schedule on it. she was off every wednesday, friday and sunday.

barb wiped some sweat off her forehead and gave her instructions.

"your job is to... well, be a cashier and make sure my damn plants don't die, alright?" she stared her deep in the eyes, making sure molly understood every word. "because twenty years ago, some little arsehole let every single flower wilt when i went to london one weekend!"

molly gave a small chuckle, thinking she was joking.

she wasn't.

"oh- yeah, no worries," she quickly responded. "your plants are safe with me!" she shot a charming smile.

barb frowned at her. "wipe that stupid smile off your face and concentrate. i'll see you later."

molly opened her mouth to say something just as she slammed the door. she closed her mouth and pursed her lips tightly together as she saw someone brushing past barb while she closed the door.

the young man came in. he had blonde wavy, shoulder-length hair and a strong jawline. his nose was prominent and he was very handsome in molly's opinion.

he had a baseball cap on his head turned backwards. wearing a blue shirt, jeans and a red, black and white plaid overshirt, he smiled at her with squinty eyes. he walked directly to the tulips and put his hands on his hips.

molly looked at him in awe. he was even more handsome than paul! she watched him as he picked out a few flowers with careful thought.

the mysterious boy grabbed one more plant and brought it to the desk. he smiled once again at her and wiped his hand off on the other one.

"hello," she said quietly as she rounded up the prices for his things. "you like tulips?"

"my favourite," he thrust his head forward as he said this as if she wouldn't hear him if he didn't. she almost seemed delicate to him.

"mine are sunflowers," molly mused.

he smiled kindly and nodded. she finished rounding the numbers up on the register and told him the total. he grabbed his wallet out and gave her the expected money.

molly wrapped the tulips in paper and put them in a cardboard box, carefully handing it to him as he began his way back out the door.

"thank you!" she managed to say before he swiftly closed the door.

making eye contact again just at the last second, she saw a glint of sunshine in his eyes.

who was this mystery boy?

hopefully, he would keep coming in, she thought.

but he wouldn't. that was the last she ever saw him.