"𝙳𝚒𝚍 𝚠𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜? 𝚃𝚞𝚛𝚗 𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚜? 𝙳𝚒𝚍 𝚠𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚠 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢? 𝙳𝚒𝚍 𝚠𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚠 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢?"

Dipper had been going through the motions for awhile. He spent a majority of his months waking up next to strange girls who he had barely any memory of in the first place. He never stayed long.

It was normal to be known around the school as a person who would do anything to pass the time. He was waiting for someone, after all.

It wasn't as though he was thinking about her constantly, there were many things that kept his mind off of her. Schoolwork being a majority of that. Dipper was quite used to a heavy workload. Whenever they could, his parents enforced extra courses even during the summer months.

And now that he was sixteen, his father had been having him work the American-front of their family business. It was excruciatingly painful, having to deal with financial records on a Friday night while everyone was out having a good time.

That was his first mistake of many. Adderall was not the most forgiving drug. It was a mix of amphetamine and dextroamphetamine, which caused hyperactivity. . .typically.

For Dipper, it just made him entirely exhausted after the first two hours. It was fine, he managed to finish all the work he intended to do, but when he finally came around, two days had already gone by and he was being shaken awake by a panicked-looking Mabel Gleeful.

When she had asked what had happened, Dipper heavily influenced his words with magic in hopes to keep his sister unaware of what had actually transpired. No doubt she was also facing pressures from their parents.

So, no. No one knew about what happened other than himself and his conscience. And Dipper intended on keeping that hidden from everyone. Everyone except her.

She would understand, wouldn't she?

Dipper had no idea what she was off doing, who she was off doing, and somedays it hardly mattered. But, there was an innate feeling deep in his chest.

He'd never been entirely connected with his emotions, so even he was having a difficult time discerning what it was that he was feeling. Perhaps he was pushing those thoughts into the back of his mind and declaring that he didn't understand them just as an excuse.

When spring break rolled around in mid-April, he was all too happy to leave Washington and return to Reverse Falls, in hopes that he would get a chance to see her.

During winter break she had made an appearance for just one day. It was a nice day, to be clear. But that was all. And it was even less than twenty-four hours. So, he was hoping (still felt weird to admit that) that she was in town.

"You seem anxious, Dipper." Mabel commented out of the blue. "I told I told you that Mother and Father wouldn't be visiting this year."

"I'm hardly anxious. Anxiety is a feeling I do not feel." Dipper retorted.

"Along with the rest of them?" Mabel quipped, adjusting her sunglasses. The sun shone down on them at high-noon, just the time they were set to arrive. Always be on time. Never stray from routine.

"Hilarious." Dipper murmured, surveying the world before them. It felt slightly comforting to be back in Reverse Falls, although he still couldn't escape the feeling that something was watching him.

"I suppose that begs the question; do we host a show while we're in town?" Mabel turned to finally look at him. "It's been awhile since, hasn't it? Considering we didn't perform during winter break."

Dipper sucked in a breath. He already had thought out an answer to that sort of question. After all, he'd been pondering it nearly as much as he pondered the girl. "I do not think that to be wise, Mabel."

When she gave him a look, he allowed himself to expand his explanation. "You know just as well as I that there is something not right. Starting with the feeling of an unfamiliar presence watching you —I know you know what I'm talking about— and ending with Will's disappearance."

"I had thoughts on it." Mabel admitted. "But it could be nothing, Dipper."

"As much as I'd like to simply brush it off our shoulders, I do not think that wise." Dipper cautiously admitted. "However, I am nothing if not a compromising man —don't roll your eyes at me!— I do believe we should be able to perform once a year. To keep whatever this thing is away from us. Summer, should we say?"

Beside him, Mabel nodded once in confirmation. "Agreed."

"Splendid." Dipper sighed and glanced at his phone. He'd texted her that he was set to arrive at noon. Although he hadn't received a reply, he felt as though she had seen the message.

What was he supposed to do? Seek her out at her house? She mentioned having some family issues and that any person who stopped by was immediately questioned by her parents about, well, drugs.

So what option was left? Calling her? That was ridiculous.

Yet, five minutes passed before he was safely tucked away in his room dialling her number. Tapping his fingers against the solid surface of his desk, he waited patiently (although he felt rather impatient) for her to answer.

"Richboy,"

He felt a sudden flush of relief rush through his system as soon as he heard her voice and chided himself for it. "Good. I thought you were dead."

"Afraid you're not rid of me yet, Dipshit." She cackled into the phone. "Back in town, are ya?"

"So you saw my message after all." Dipper crossed his arms and took a seat at his desk. Leaning back in his chair slightly, he continued, "regardless of whether you saw it or not, I had hopes of seeing you."

"Well I'm grounded right now. Or some bullshit." She huffed. "Not like that's gonna stop me anyway."

"Why are you grounded?" Dipper raised a brow despite the fact that she couldn't even see him.

"Some bullshit about sneaking out. Honestly it's kinda embarrassing to be grounded for something so stupid." She laughed bitterly.

"I understand the feeling. I was grounded once before by my great uncles, may they rest in peace." He rolled his eyes at the mere mention of his relatives. If his luck had proved anything, they would be haunting the house and glaring daggers into the back of his head until they could get their ghostly mitts on a real dagger. "It was because I, allegedly, ruined a party."

"What? You? Ruin a party? I'm not convinced." She chuckled lightly. "Well, if you wanna do something fun, I'm all for it."

"What time shall I fetch you?" Dipper asked already turning to look for his watch.

"Best wait for later tonight. It'll be easier to sneak out." She mentioned in passing.

"I thought you said it didn't matter?" Dipper was slightly confused. Hadn't she just said that?

"Yeah, but where's the thrill in sneaking out in broad daylight?"

Near ten o'clock that very evening, Dipper had already been waiting in his car for nearly a half hour. The driver side window had been rolled down completely as to accommodate him. With a hand dangling out the window clenching a cigarette, Dipper sighed and leaned his head against the headrest.

"Am I just a night of lust —a lost temptation?" He murmured, his voice real low. He never enjoyed reminiscing, but when it was necessary —and it was— he acted alone.

Dipper had music playing softly over the speakers of his car (a gift from his parents) and if he wasn't so dead-set on seeing her, he would've taken the opportunity to fall asleep right there.

His phone must've known the mood he was in because despite having shuffled a random playlist, all that was playing quietly over the speakers were sad songs about unrequited love.

As soon as the clock struck ten, Dipper put out the cigarette on the side of his car, changed the music completely, because he rather had enough of acute sentimentalisms, and started blaring one of her favorites; Dancing With Myself.

When he parked a house or two down the street from her house, he shut off his headlights and snatched his phone from where it rested on the passenger seat. Dipper texted her that he was there and waited until he saw a familiar shape peel itself away from the shadows.

"Heya, stranger." Her familiar phrase whenever they had gone for long periods of time without seeing one another. "You look stressed."

Dipper was unaware he appeared stressed. He rarely ever did appear anything to the public, but released it with little ticks of his; an example being running his hands through his hair.

"Here." She grasped his hand, pulling it off the steering wheel, and placed something small into his hand; a gummy. "You'll feel better."

"A gummy." Dipper replied flatly.

"Trust me." Her eyes met his and in the dark of the car, he could just barely make out a smirk on her face. "You trust me, don't you?"

"I wouldn't go that far." Dipper said, offhandedly. But, he ate it anyway. After thirty seconds, he looked at her once again. "Nothing is happening."

"Give it thirty-ish minutes or so." She shrugged and buckled her seatbelt.

"Did you just drug me?" Dipper blinked rapidly. He wasn't losing his vision, nothing about the situation was foggy, was it? Was that her plan? Doubtful, but definitely something to be wary of.

"Relax, Dipshit." She rolled her eyes, amusement laced her words. "You'll be thanking me in a bit."

Forty-five-ish minutes later was when it all kicked in. She took him to a place she said that he would enjoy. She drove the rest of the way, and when she mentioned that they had crossed the state border, Dipper laughed.He couldn't explain why he did, he just felt like laughing.

She introduced him to a place called Summit; and apparently it was a popular nightclub in California. California? When had they gotten to California?

They got into Summit easy enough with her fake I.D. and a little use of magic. Dipper knew he shouldn't have used it so carelessly, but he couldn't figure out why he did.

In the darkness of the club, with the flashing lights and thumping bass, she turned her attention to him once more. "How are you feeling now?"

"Great!" He exclaimed. "Although I'm honestly kinda tired. But this place," he looked all around while spinning in a circle, "it's amazing."

She laughed along with him, attaching her arms around his neck and pulling him closer. "I knew you'd enjoy it. Just please, stick with me, I dunno what'll happen if you're off on your own. And don't take any drink that a random person offers you. Basic club rules. I tell that to everyone I bring here, at least I would if I brought anyone here."

"Alright, don't worry, I don't think anything could pull me away from you, right now." Dipper admitted.

"Ugh, shut your mouth, loverboy." She rolled her eyes, but kissed him anyway.

Against the slow rhythm of the music, it almost felt perfect. Perhaps it was whatever she had given him, or maybe it had something to do with being in a place where no one knew him, that he would hardly remember in the morning, but he was feeling entirely too romantic.

He grasped her hand lightly and spun her around before pulling her in close to him again, eyes staring down at her. Over the past few months he'd finally grown nearly a foot taller than her, an official accomplishment.

She stared up at him, and the expression on her face was quite difficult to read. Dipper honestly wished he hadn't taken the gummy so he could've interpreted it.

They kissed slowly, everything about it was intimate and romantic. It lacked the fire they usually brought to the table, but maybe that was okay. It lasted five minutes, or thirty seconds, Dipper couldn't tell. His perception of time was skewed.

He blinked and it was gone. She was gone. Dipper was standing off on his lonesome in the middle of a rather congested nightclub turned nightmare. No matter where he looked, she was nowhere to be found.

His entire body was warm, too warm, and the temperature in the nightclub didn't help one bit. He had a better chance in the outside than he did in there.

Once again, in a blink, he was standing outside with a cigarette on his lips that he hadn't even lit yet. He just stood there, taking in the fresh, cool, air into his lungs instead of toxic smoke.

His head was thumping along with the bass of a Glass Animals song that was still blaring in the club behind him. His mind felt as though it wasn't his own, all sorts of different thoughts passing through in numerous languages that he could barely understand.

"Paz," he whispered, staring up at the sky. Why was it that that name sounded so familiar? Especially when it came off his lips?

"Who?"

It was a girl, and she was pressed up against him, when the hell had she gotten there? What the hell was going on? His brain hurt, he hated the feeling. Like a continuous haze had followed him the moment he stepped into Summit.

The random girl kissed him again, pressing him up against the brick wall of the nightclub. He just stood there, numb to the touch.

The weight was wrenched off of him harshly and he watched as the random girl got sucker-punched by her.

"Lay off him!" She yelled. "Keep your effin' sticky paws away from him."

The random girl rubbed the side of her face and glared at her. "He's fine."

"Yeah right," she huffed and stared menacingly down at the girl. "I betcha he's as fine as you are with a mouthful of teeth!"

"What the fuck?" The girl exclaimed. "Jesus, fuckin' psycho."

Long after the random girl was gone, Dipper felt a pair of hands pull him away from the wall. And someone was scolding him.

"What did I tell you about going off on your own?" She exclaimed, checking him all over to make sure he was alright.

"Why'd you disappear?" Dipper whispered hoarsely. "You just. . ."

"Oh Christ," she shook her head, "next time I'll putcha on a leash."

"Where did you go?" Dipper repeated. "I lost you, I can't lose you."

"You're really outta it, aren't ya?" She sighed and grabbed onto his arm. "Come on, let's getcha outta here. And, just for the record, I didn't disappear anywhere. We walked to the bar together, and the second I turned my back to order us some drinks, you were gone. I nearly lost my shit, Richboy."

Dipper had no idea what she was talking about, but she appeared a little more disheveled than she had before. Frantic, almost.

"Come on, let's get you home." She rolled her eyes and kissed his cheek. "Thank God you're in one piece."

He must've fallen asleep on the way back, because when he came to, he was being shaken away by her.

"C'mon, Richboy. We're back at the manor." She pulled him out of the car and steadied him best she could. "You need to get some sleep."

"What time is it?" Dipper asked, trying to pull his phone out of his pocket. His movements were slow and sluggish, and if he already hadn't decided that he hated that feeling, he would've decided right then and there.

"Nearly four." She replied, shrugging. "C'mon, Richboy, let's get you inside."

Once inside the manor, she excused herself to run to the restroom. After directing her, Dipper thought about going to sleep. He did. But why did his feet take him to the liquor cabinet instead?

Until now he'd always traveled on a straight, and narrow path. Yet now, he was faced with yet another choice. Nothing too dramatic, as the rest of his life panned out, but it was between vodka and whiskey.

Before he was able to grab a glass, someone entered the room, and though he could not see who, the scoff made it easier.

"What the hell, Dipper?" Mabel rolled her eyes and flicked on the light. "No, let me rephrase that; what the fuck, Dipper?"

"Mabel," he murmured, nearly dropping the bottle when he turned to face her. "Why are you still awake?"

"I could ask the same thing to you." Mabel crossed the room in a few steps, staring up at him. She used to be taller than him when they were kids, but now the height advantage belonged solely to him. She narrowed her eyes and looked into his. "You're stoned." She said flatly.

"No." Dipper rolled his eyes and started to open the bottle with a certain amount of dedication.

"Where the hell did you get weed?" She demanded, crossing her arms. "You know what? I don't care. I dunno why you're doing this, but you better fix yourself right now. If anyone saw you this way, the press would have a field day with your reputation."

"Ah, yes," Dipper sighed and took a swig, the burning sensation in the back of his throat a welcomed presence. "My reputation."

"It's not just that, dumbass." She scowled. "If Mother or Father —or both— even caught whiff of this, do you even know what they'd do to you?"

"Mabel," Dipper sighed again (he was doing that an awful lot, lately), "you don't have to worry. I'm not planning on doing this ever again."

Mabel's frown echoed across the room. "You better not. I'll kill you before they can." And with a snap of her fingers, the hazy feeling Dipper had bouncing through his system started fading. "You'll feel better in a little bit. And we'll talk about this in the morning. Right now, you need to get some sleep."

Dipper nodded slowly, it was quite the relief to think properly once more. Before he could even take another sip, Mabel snatched the bottle out of his hands.

"Bed. Now." She warned.

That's where he went. No point in arguing with Mabel especially when he was just barely in the right headspace for it. And now he had to think up a story. It was doubtful that Mabel would even believe it, but it was worth a shot.

As soon as he shut the door, he remembered about her. Turning around, he found her standing near his desk, staring at his laptop.

"Oh, you're still here." He murmured between a yawn.

"What's on here?" She pointed to the screen with a dark fingernail.

"Secret, I'm afraid." Dipper shrugged and felt the urge to just fall into his bed and sleep forever.

"Even from me?"

"Even from you." Dipper sighed and quickly changed into a comfortable set of pyjamas.

She weighed what he had said, pursing her lips. "Fair enough. Are you okay?"

Such a strange question. And the answer; a shrug.

He tried to sleep, truly he did. But his mind was strung tighter than a trapeze. Dipper was happy that she stayed, most likely to keep an eye on him.

"I thought you'd done this before." She murmured, "I didn't expect you to react so. . .negatively."

"This isn't the worst." Dipper found himself admitting. Okay, it was official, he was never doing weed again. He was all too honest. "I was in a bad place last semester."

"Oh shit," she whispered, "what happened?"

"Adderall." Dipper sighed and sat up. Laying down just made his head hurt even more. "I thought it would be helpful."

"For a person like me it would be." She huffed and rolled her eyes. "Not someone like you who practically runs on it. Your body prolly produces its own."

"Yeah, I figured that out." Dipper rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. "I lasted two hours before everything went dark."

"Oh, fuck, Dipshit." She bit her lip. "Why didn't you call me?"

"Hadn't thought about it." Dipper admitted once again. "A busy life makes ones decision murky."

"I see." She said, sitting up as well. Clearly they both decided they weren't sleeping that night. There was no point. "Is that all?"

"No." Dipper shook his head. "It wasn't that alone."

"Why else didn't you call me?" She asked.

"I figured I'd say something stupid." Dipper reluctantly admitted. It was the most reluctant he'd been all evening.

"What, exactly?" She pressed.

Dipper went silent. He nearly opened his mouth and said the words he didn't want to say out loud. It was fine if they replayed over and over and over again inside his mind, but once he said them out loud, it was all over.

"Dipper," she placed a hand on his arm, eyes still so vivid even in the darkness. "What the hell are you talking about?"

He couldn't say it. He wouldn't say it. And, most importantly, he shouldn't say it. If he said it then it became real, and if it was real then. . .then what could he do?

"Dipper," her voice was now a whisper, sounding the most docile she ever had. "You can tell me anything. You know that, right?"

He blinked several times, when did the tears start to form? How long had it been?

"Dipper." She said again, trying to get his attention.

There was nothing but white noise. Static, a disconnect. He didn't feel whole. It was the fear, basic sociology; pack dynamics, etc.

"Dipper, please." She pleaded.

"I love you." His voice was hoarse, he shut his eyes tight. Why did he say it?

The room went quiet. Silence between them never lasted long, even if they wanted it to. But who would break it?

"What?" She coughed once, her eyes snapping wide open.

With his liquid courage taken away by Mabel, Dipper felt all the confidence within him dwindle. But he said it already. It was out. And now he felt everything. Everything he had tried desperately to block off for the last year out of fear.

Now he had nothing left to lose. So why not explain himself? Why not dig the hole even deeper? There was no fault in it, no guilt, nothing. Not anymore.

"I love you." He repeated, it still feeling foreign on his tongue. "You dunno how hard it is for me to say this, for all the reasons trapped inside my head. Whether it's fear or not, I couldn't tell you. I can't explain feelings at all, so this is all sounding erratic and in such disarray, but my words ring true."

Dipper blinked a few more times, trying his best not to let any tears fall. He didn't even know why they were coming down. Couldn't understand. When he finally looked back in her eyes, he expected surprise.

But what laid in them was neither shock nor surprise. It was something else entirely. Something sad. Something forlorn.

"No, Dipper." She shook her head, closing her eyes for the briefest of moments.

"You don't believe me?" Dipper whispered, astonished. He gripped her hands in his, pulling them to his chest where his heart laid. Placing them flat on his heart, he looked into her eyes once again. "This, this is proof enough. Can't you feel my heart beating?"

She jerked her hand away as if it scalded her. Yet she said nothing.

"Please, listen to me," Dipper found that as soon as he started, he couldn't stop. Just digging the hole deeper, losing everything that they had. "I love you, Scarlett."

Scarlett just sat there, cradling her hand to her chest, holding it tightly like she had held him only months ago. "No, Dipper," she shook her head again, "you don't love me. It's not me you're in love with. You're in love with her. You're in love with Pacifica."

There it was; a punch to the gut, a slap to the face, enough to keep him just barely breathing. Blood was rushing through his ears, his pulse beating erratically.

"And I get that, I do." She continued, words falling out of her lips as fast as the rushing waters. "I get that it'll always be her, and not me. And you're just saying all this crap now because you dunno what to do. You're losing your grip on reality because in your dreams she's here with you, not me. It's only me right now because I'm here. I was there when you needed me.

"And don't worry, it's not like I feel used or anything, because it was just something we agreed to do. As friends. No strings attached or no other bullshit like that. You think you love me because I was always there when you needed me, in every sense. I was exactly what you needed; someone to talk to. Someone to listen to you. Someone to help you through any rough patch you went through. Someone who can help you get over Pacifica in any way necessary. Because that's just how we are, Dipper."

It was too much. Every single word she said echoed truth. And it was utterly shattering.

"I dunno what to do anymore." Dipper whispered numbly. "She's never coming back. I lost her for good, and now I'm losing you and I just—"

"Shh," Scarlett wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close to her. Their foreheads pressed together, eyes closed. It was intimate, but now it felt different. Not wrong, not good. Nothing.

Dipper had never been an emotional person, so this new wave of despair hit him harder than ever before. And worst of all, he had no idea how to conquer it. Staying in her arms —the arms of a friend— seemed the best route.

"You can be so foolish sometimes, y'know?" Scarlett chuckled, her breath warm on his face. "One romantic confession and you doubt our friendship? Sorry, but that's not how it's gonna go. You're fucked up, I'm fucked up, so it works. We're just fucked up together, and it just works."

Screw it. Dipper pulled her into a full-on hug (still something he was trying to get used to) and rested his chin on her shoulder. From there, well, he just sobbed. Uncontrollable, full-emotional, raw, sobbing.

"Oh, God, oh God, you're right. I love her. I loved her so much." He wept, and for the first time in two years he felt a little more human. "A-and," his breath hitched, "and now she's gone!"

She just held him, rubbing small circles into his back, humming softly into his ear. Let him cry away the wee hours of the morning until, well, he fell asleep.

He wished he were conscious enough to remember the song she sang to him that morning.

15 MONTHS LATER

"Are you ready yet?" Mabel snapped, rolling her eyes as Dipper fiddled with the amulet on his collar. "I have to be onstage in less than three minutes!"

Dipper sighed and glanced in the full-length mirror. He looked perfect, the perfect image of deception. Flashing a grin, he turned to face his sister. "Do I look ready, Mabel?"

Mabel rolled her eyes but smiled nonetheless. "It feels good to be doing this again."

"The only time for the summer, Mabel." Dipper reminded her slowly. "We have to be careful. Especially after what happened last time."

Mabel rubbed her arm lightly. "I know. This is the only time. After this, we are going to figure out what the hell that thing truly is, and where the hell it came from."

Dipper nodded. "Agreed."

Turning to exit the dressing room, Mabel chanced a glance over her shoulder. "You remember your cue, correct?"

"How could I possibly forget it?" Dipper rolled his eyes in a teasing manner. "I have an impeccable memory, Mabel."

"I'm just asking." She held her hands up in faux surrender. "I so do hope this goes well."

"Relax, Mabel," Dipper followed her down the hall to just behind the curtains. "We're professionals, after all."

She grinned and checked the clock mounted on the wall behind them. "Seven. Alright, I'm afraid I must go out to face the music. Remember your cue."

Dipper raised his hand in gesture of a wave and slowly dropped it to his side when Mabel disappeared. Knowing the curtains were going to raise any minute, Dipper opted to step back into the shadows.

He always had been one for theatrics, after all.

Faintly he heard Mabel speaking to the crowd. They were the perfect performers; she loved to be first onstage and he lived to make a dramatic entrance. It was absolutely and without a doubt, perfect.

Dipper reached into his back pocket to pilfer his phone, but was disappointed when it came to him that he had left it in the dressing room. If he was quick enough, he could grab it, and shoot her a text. She'd been gone a few months now, truly M.I.A. and it still hurt; she was his best friend, when all things were said and done.

She had helped him more than she'd ever know, or allow him to thank her for. And knowing Scarlett, she would simply brush it off like it was nothing.

At least now, Dipper had other things to keep his mind off of her. The mid-summer ball was only a month and a half away, he had spent a majority of his free time planning that alongside Mabel. And, of course, the creature that was hunting them.

Whatever happened, he and Mabel would most certainly be able to handle that situation on their own.

"Try not to scream." Mabel's voice echoed throughout the entire tent.

Dipper rolled his eyes lightly and clipped his mic onto his ear, no doubt it would be necessary after all. Now that their shows were limited time only, the tent was fuller than ever before.

Clutching his amulet tightly, he waited for his official cue.

"Welcome to the Tent of Telepathy, folks. I hope you enjoy the show." The lights began flickering, Dipper could see it from where he stayed out of sight. But there was his cue. Showtime.

"Ah, yes," he added a charming lilt to his voice and tried not to audibly wince when he heard what sounded like a thousand girls screaming. Who knew, maybe he'd meet someone that summer. "Shall we begin the show now, sister dearest?"

He hardly heard his sister's reply, but they had practiced enough by that point so he knew exactly when and how to make his entrance. With a plume of thick black smoke, it was their only show for the year, he could be as theatrical as he wanted to, he appeared on the stage.

"Now," Dipper paced the stage and finally turned to face the crowd of fans he had before him, "who wants to see a magic trick?" It wasn't his best line, but it worked nonetheless because screaming fangirls and fanboys ensued. "But, of course, I'll need a volunteer."

The crowd only seemed to grow louder at the mention of helping the famous Dipper Gleeful. Such enthusiasm. "Ah, yes, you're all excited for this, aren't you? Unfortunately," he surveyed the rows and rows of seats filling up the tent, "I won't have enough tricks for all of you to volunteer for, but we'll do our best. Won't we, Mabel?"

Her cue to step up next to him. "Why, certainly."

"Now, let's see who wants to be my volunteer." Dipper couldn't help but chuckle aloud. He always forgot how exhilarating performing was. His eyes scanned the crowd, trying to figure out how to pick someone.

Usually, he just put a combination of numbers in his head; section, row, seat. It always worked and never failed him. Even when he wanted to pick a specific person. He remembered fondly to when Scarlett came to her first show there. Yes, he picked her on purpose, sue him. You'd find that he has the best lawyers at his defense and he is well on the way to becoming one himself.

With the combination in his head, his eyes glazed over the near-back of the room. It was always nice to let those who could hardly see the entire performance give it a go. Without mentioning it to anyone, Dipper walked off the stage and into the sea of people before him.

He already had his victim; girl, brown hair, brown eyes, eyes wide with awe. Before he even got to her row, his heart hammered in his chest. Girl. Hair; blonde. Eyes; familiar. Like he had spent a decade staring into them.

With a concealed shake of his head, Dipper repeated the mantra he had taught himself over the years; it's not her. I know you want it to be, but it isn't. Move on.

Just because he saw her everywhere didn't mean she was actually there. At every show he performed he expected to see her sitting in the crowd. It was phantasmagorical. A vision of her that he had been seeing for years.

Pushing it off, he walked to his original target. "How about you, miss?" He extended a hand toward the flustered girl. Once she grasped his hand, he pulled her gently out of her seat and toward the stage.

"What's your name, miss?" Dipper asked, leading her up onto the stage. Maybe that could be his chance. He knew he couldn't wait forever. He believed he had his chance with Scarlett, but she didn't return his feelings. And, at the end of the day, it was better to have a friend than a lover. Something Dipper never thought he'd ever say.

"J-Janessa." She stammered.

Her name was Janessa. Strange name, indeed, but Dipper couldn't really fault her for that. His preferred name was Dipper after all. "Wonderful."

Perhaps this was his chance to move on.

ıllıllı 𝑅𝒰𝑀𝐼𝒩𝒜𝒯𝐼O𝒩𝒮 𝑀.𝒜.𝒢 ıllıllı

▌│█║▌║▌║ 𝐹𝐼𝐿𝐸 𝐸𝒩𝒞𝑅𝒴𝒫𝒯𝐸𝒟 ║▌║▌║█│▌

......
......
ɪɴɪᴛɪᴀᴛᴇ ᴅᴇ-ᴄʀʏᴘᴛ?
......
......
SUCCESS
.....
.....
ᴄᴏɴᴛɪɴᴜᴇ? ʏ/ɴ
ʏ
.....
.....

▀▄▀▄▀▄  𝒮𝒯𝒜𝒩𝒟𝐵𝒴 ▄▀▄▀▄▀

𝔇𝔢𝔠𝔢𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯 6𝔱𝔥, 2014
It isn't everyday you become linked with someone who can undeniably figure you out immediately. Although, I must say, she did impress me a great deal. How she managed to land a punch on me was, by the very definition, impressive. I must say, it has been quite some time that someone has impressed me. Not to be all poetic, but her name is the color of her hair. And not only that, she has the undeniable ability to keep up with my wit. Much like Paz was able to do.

Alas, she is gone, and I'm starting to have doubts that she will ever come back. However, something tells me that it will not be forgotten. That our souls will always be attached, whether with iron chains or a spindly thread. Every moment I try to allow myself to find someone else, a rush of guilt flows through me like the ocean on a restless evening. Can either of us really ever be free?

If only we weren't so terribly stubborn. We could have had more time together. But isn't that how love often works? You will never know what you had until it goes?

Regardless, I never expected myself to be intrigued by someone like Scarlett Valentino. It just doesn't seem logical. But, it appears that I'm eating grass that hasn't even grown yet. I shall give it time, time to see where it leads, and what it can potentially mean for me.

▀▄▀▄▀▄  𝒮𝒯𝒜𝒩𝒟𝐵𝒴 ▄▀▄▀▄▀

𝔍𝔞𝔫𝔲𝔞𝔯𝔶 16𝔱𝔥, 2015
I dunno what has happened. She knows who I really am. She can figure out numerous things about me with with a glance. I fear that there is a spark aflame between us.

It has been quite some time since I was able to feel relaxed around someone I hardly even know. Yet, it feels as though I've known her forever. Everything just clicks into place. She's just there.

▀▄▀▄▀▄  𝒮𝒯𝒜𝒩𝒟𝐵𝒴 ▄▀▄▀▄▀

𝔖𝔢𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯 1𝔰𝔱, 2015
Words cannot describe the way I feel. There is so much to say. A very lonely September, indeed. I leave this instead; I didn't mean to fall in love, but I did. And you didn't mean to love me back, but I know you did. Don't say you didn't love me back, because you know you did.

▀▄▀▄▀▄  𝒮𝒯𝒜𝒩𝒟𝐵𝒴 ▄▀▄▀▄▀

𝔄𝔭𝔯𝔦𝔩 28𝔱𝔥 2016
I can't exactly recall the events of the evening through morning that happened in the past twenty-four hours, but I shall do my best to explain what I learned through it all. Let us begin.

I have never been the most emotional person on the planet, perhaps in every dimension that is conceivable. I was raised to be cold, my father often told me that it was my greatest asset. So, yes, I am aware that I shall be some form of emotionally stunted for the rest of my life. That is most likely why I couldn't understand love.

It is why it took Pacifica and I so terribly long to get together. It is why when she left I had no idea how to cope. It is why I believed I needed Scarlett in a loving manner. It is why I broke down after confessing my alleged 'love'. And it is why I sit before this little screen to try to come to terms with it.

In the past few years I have grown considerably. Both as a man and a basic human being. It took Pacifica to remind me that I was human, and it took Scarlett to help me get there. Both, I must confess, are the most important women in my life. Even if one will never come back and even if the other will never believe that I love her.

Love is a strange thing, isn't it? For Pacifica, it's pragma; something that developed over time. For Scarlett, it's philia. And for my sister, storge. Mabel may hate the decisions I've made over the last few years, but she's family. And she will come around.

I've come to the realization that what Scarlett and I have will always be. The discussion of soulmates comes to mind the more I ponder this. I've spent the better half of the year wondering if Pacifica truly was my soulmate. Or if it has always been Scarlett.

I love Pacifica, Scarlett's rather brutal (yet eye-opening) rebuttal made me realize that after all this time I have not moved on properly. That would make it the rather obvious choice that Pacifica is my soulmate.

Yet, Scarlett and I were destined to meet. Destined to be exactly what we are. Are we connected by heart and soul? Yes. Without a doubt. She and I are connected, forever. Nothing could break whatever it is that we have. That is why I have finally figured out that Scarlett Valentino is (if such things even exist) my soulmate.

However, it is up to you whether you love your soulmate, and choose to be with them forever. Humans were given the power of choice, so, who says we can't choose this as well?

I love Pacifica, that is final. I love Scarlett, that is inevitable. But it is entirely two different kinds of love. Pacifica was the one I wanted to spend my life with (I say 'was' due to the fact that it is highly unlikely I will ever see her again and I just need to accept that), in a romantic way. I didn't get what I wanted for us, instead I got Scarlett.

But Scarlett was exactly what I needed; a friend. Someone who would help me get through the rough parts of my life, share her music with me, take me to fun places where I don't have to worry whether my reputation is at stake, show me how to be human, help me learn from my mistakes, make a few mistakes along the way with me. She's the person who can make fun of me and it'll feel perfect.

She is, in short, my best friend. Something I never believed I would ever have, nor find.

And, you know what? I'm okay with that.

So, I'm not sad to say, this will be my last entry here. I'm afraid I don't need this anymore. Because there is someone out there who will listen to me and help me when I'm in a rough moment. My best friend.

Goodbye, although I know there is a chance that someone could manage to decrypt the cipher I've created for this particular journal. So, for the sake of my own mental health and to keep me from experiencing an aneurysm at such an early stage of my life, I will be deleting this file.

Farewell.
-Dipper A. Gleeful

ıllıllı 𝑅𝒰𝑀𝐼𝒩𝒜𝒯𝐼O𝒩𝒮 𝑀.𝒜.𝒢 ıllıllı

......
......
ɪɴɪᴛɪᴀᴛᴇ ᴅᴇʟᴇᴛᴇ?
ʏ
......
......
ᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴜʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴄᴏɴᴛɪɴᴜᴇ? ʏ/ɴ
ʏ

▀▄▀▄▀▄  𝒮𝒯𝒜𝒩𝒟𝐵𝒴 ▄▀▄▀▄▀

.....
.....
.....
.....
ᴅᴇʟᴇᴛᴇ ꜱᴜᴄᴄᴇꜱꜱꜰᴜʟ. . .