I took a long sip of my coffee the next morning, finishing it. Chase was absentmindedly flipping through the TV channels. He turned off the TV and looked up at me. "Why did you call Dallas last night?"

I tried to give Chase a dumb look. "What are you talking about?"

"You called Dallas really late last night and you were yelling at him about something. I just want to know what you were yelling at him about and why you had to call him then and not in the morning."

"Oh... That..." I took a deep breath and told him what happened last night. Keeping out the part about why I was awake in the middle of the night.

"Scar you better be telling me the truth," Chase blue eyes burned on my soul.

"I swear. The truth."

Chase nodded, almost believing. "So, I was looking at the calendar, and I realized... last night was our two month-aversery. Then I realized, we did nothing to celebrate..."

"So what, you want to celebrate tonight?"

Chase nodded. "More or less," A smile inched across his face.

"So... more of what we did Wednesday night...?" I smiled.

"It's likely..." He kissed me and I felt my heart leap. "But, before that, I'm taking you on a date."

I smiled. "A date? That's risky. With all the places my mom has made me terrified of... Prisons... theme parks... hospitals... my own home..."

"Is a record shop out of limits?"

"Hmm," I "thought" for a second, already knowing a record shop would be fine. "I think a record shop is okay. I'm willing to take that risk though. Question, what would we do with records? You don't have a record player... do you?"

He smiled, almost sheepish. "I guess I don't. They'll have a player there—at the shop, I mean. We can listen to records there."

The record shop smelled old and musty. It reminded me of a book store, only with music. I walked through the wide isles looking for my genre of music: Alternative and Punk. I came up to some modern Punk bands—who I hate. I'm stuck in the past when it comes to punk music. I really like bands like Blink-182 or Green Day. I picked up an American Idiot album. "Hey Chase,"

"Yeah?"

"Tell the record guy to play..." I looked over the songs on the album. "'Are We the Waiting'." I handed the record to Chase. Chase went up to one of the employees and handed the album to him. The employee went to the back and within seconds the steady beginning of 'Are We the Waiting' rang out. I smiled, bobbing my head to the music.

"Green Day, huh?"

I nodded. "I love them."

"What do you think of Billie Joel Armstrong? He cute?"

I rolled my eyes. "He's like, forty."

"Starry nights, city lights, coming down over me," I sang along with the record as I kept flipping through records.

"And screaming!" Chase chimed in.

"Are we, we are! Are we, we are the waiting!" I held up my phone, using it as a "lighter."

Chase kissed me. "Let's get out of here." I smiled and kissed him again.

"Phase two," Chase said, stepping out of his car. "Dinner."

I looked up at the neon light sign. "A pub? Is that really... what's the word I'm trying to say... appropriate? I mean, this is a date, not a night out with the guys."

"Pshh, it's just a pub."

As soon as we walked inside the pub, the smell of alcohol and sweet was overwhelming. Music from the 90s blasted through the speakers. We sat down at the bar. "Chase, shouldn't we... you know... get a booth or something? I mean, we're both under twenty-one and... we can't drink, Chase. It's... you know... illegal."

Chase nodded. "So we don't drink... We'll just..." Chase lifted the glass a waitress had set down in front of him. "Drink water." Chase lifted to glass to his lips, took a drink, swallowed, and coughed. "Not water." He sat down the glass. "That was diffidently not water."

I couldn't hold back a laugh. "That's why we shouldn't sit at the bar." I stood up to move but the bar tender grabbed my arm.

He sat down a glass with a red liquid in it. "From the man over there,"

"Thanks... but I'm under aged." I pushed the glass away, then looked at who paid for the drink. None other than Dallas. I stood up and walked to the other end of the bar, to where Dallas sat, a smirk slapped across his face.

"Good evening Scar,"

"God. Damn. It. I am Scarlett—no, I am Riley to you. Not Scar, not Scarlett, only Riley."

Dallas just smiled. "Why didn't you accept your drink from me?"

"Because I'm eighteen and last time I checked, that's under aged." I raised my eye brows. "Your move wise-guy." Chase put his hands on my shoulders.

"'Under aged' is just an age."

"And that's the problem. It's 'just an age'." I turned around and walked back to our chairs at the bar. "How does Dallas just keep popping up where ever we go?" I sighed. "Let's just eat and go."

"Two classic burgers please," Chase said to the bar tender.

We ate quickly then left.

"On to phase three,"

"How many phases are there to this date?" I asked, getting in Chase's car. "And which phase is the best?"

Chase just smiled. "Phase fifty... ish. Whichever phase when I can actually marry you."

"Phase four works for me?"

"If only I had a ring..." Chase kissed my forehead and started driving. "If only..."

"Wait, you don't actually have a ring do you?!"

Chase just smiled.

I stepped out of the car and gasped. The wind blew ever-so-slightly, just enough that I noticed but not enough to make me cold. Chase popped the trunk of his car and pulled out a blanket as I just stood there, looking at the Vegas skyline.

Chase laid the blanket on the ground and sat down. I laid on my stomach and pulled up tuffs of grass absentmindedly.

We sat in silence for a while, admiring the skyline. The silence was interrupted by my phone ringing. I forwarded it. My phone rang again, seconds later. It was Stella who was calling and for God knows what. I forwarded it again, only to have it ring again.

I sighed and stood up. "I've got to take this." I leaned on Chase's car, parked a few yards behind the blanket. "Hello Stella, I'm kind of busy so if this could wait—"

She was in tears. "He hit me, Scarlett. He hit me." She took deep, uneasy breaths.

"Wait, who hit you Stella?" I glanced at Chase who overhead what I said and was walked over to me.

"Travis." I heard a bang in the background. "He slapped me. Then he... he..."

"Stella, what happened?"

"Travis and I were watching TV, the news, and they finished a report on the protest that you guys are planning and Travis said, "I hate Unscripted" and I said, "Scarlett's Unscripted" and he said, "And I hate her for it" then I said, "They're not bad people Trav," and Travis stood up and said, "Don't defend filthy scum like her" and slapped me. And... and I don't know, it just kind of got out of control from there." Another pounding sounded from the background along with Travis's voice, yelling. "I'm scared Scarlett,"

"Okay, where are you?"

"In the bedroom of his place."

"Are you safe?"

"I don't know. For now,"

"Have you called the police?"

"No,"

"Stay there, call 911 and don't get off the phone with them until you're sure that Travis can't hurt you." I paused. "Stel, I'm going to hang up now. Call 911, I'm sending police."

"Okay,"

"Stella?"

"Yeah?"

"I never liked Travis anyway." I hung up then looked at Chase. "Travis hit her. I don't know who badly she's hurt but I need to call the police."

He nodded.

I dialed 911 and told the operator the situation. I gave her Travis's address and was told help would be on the way. I hung up and crossed my arms, looking up at the sky, a single tear running down my cheek.

"Scarlett?"

"Yeah?"

"Stella will be find. I promise."

I nodded. "Let's just get back to the hotel."

I don't even know what I was ranting about, but as I walked through the sliding doors of the hotel, my rant was at full volume. "This is what I'm talking about Chase! This entire idea of tattoos is stupid. Sometimes, the Marks are wrong. They Match up innocent people with monsters! Stella did nothing to ask for the abuse from Travis!"

"Scarlett, I need you to calm down."

I looked around at everyone's face, frozen in shock. "What?! You can't tell me that every single one of you here agree with the Marks, can you? Or are you just shocked that I'm open about being Unscripted? Both? Screw you all." I held up my middle finger and took the stairs to the nest floor, taking the elevator from there.

I slammed the door to our hotel room and walked into the bedroom, slamming the door behind me.

"Scarlett! Get out here." Chase pounded on the door. "Are you trying to get yourself killed? People called the police!" Chase pounded on the door again.

I opened the windows in the bedroom. I opened them so there was nothing between me and the air outside. The wind whipped the curtains around me.

"Scarlett! Open the damn door!"

I unlocked the door and sat on the window seal, my feet hanging in the air. Nothing to stop my fall if I dropped.

"Scarlett, get away from the window."

"I could jump,"

"Scarlett, what about everything you've worked for? All the protests?"

"Do you honestly think I care anymore?" I looked at the ground, fifteen flights down. Fifteen flights of free falling. At least fifteen seconds of flying...

"Scarlett, please, get up, close the windows, and think about this."

I looked back at Chase, pleading in his eyes. I closed my eyes and thought about how it would feel, my stomach turning, the feeling of flying, free falling... Then I thought about hitting the concrete. The blood, if I survived, I'd be paralyzed no doubt, the sight of Chase, screaming after I jumped...

"Okay," I got up from the window and sat on the far end of the bed, as far away from the window as possible.