# Ending 1 - Anon's Got A Brand New Girl

Title: Ending 1 - Anon's Got A Brand New Girl
Status: Complete
Characters: Anon, Trish
Rating: SFW
Classification: One Shot
Author: Anonymous
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Cursing, I dig deeper into the storage closet, wringing the pain out of my hand after dislodging it from where Trish’s old skateboard had pinned it between some boxes. Shaking my head, I pull open another box of our old things, searching for the camera that Trish promised would be in here. Through the open door, sounds of the engagement party drifts down the hall towards me: Trish regaling our friends with the story how I got down on one knee on the bluffs overlooking the sea, asking my old high-school nemesis for her hand in marriage. It’s been two years since Trish came to apologize to me for what happened all those years ago at Volcano High, two years since Fang… well, since Trish and I bonded over sharded trauma. It was an unlikely relationship at first, Trish spending equal parts trying to gore me for something I said and stealing away around corners to shut me up with her kisses. As we spent more and more time with each other, we realized that our hatred for each other stemmed over the same thing: A love of Fang, as a friend and as a woman. Because of that, we carried a unique pain in our hearts that would never fully heal, and sought comfort with the only other person who we could confide in.
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Reed’s laugh booms down the hall at some unheard joke, rising above the collected voices. Reed, Stella, Rosa: The whole gang had shown up for the party, the first time we’d seen everyone together for months. Each of us was dealing with the pain in our own way, and I suspected everyone was just happy to have something to smile about again. A smile of my own splits my face as I finally find the box I’m looking for, an old dusty one at the back labeled “pictures”.
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“Jackpot,” I mumble to myself, dragging the box out and splitting the tape open with my trusty pocketknife. I never gave up the habit of carrying it around, even though Trish and I had moved in together in a much nicer part of Volcaldera. It seemed Trish’s parents were well connected in the real estate business, and were able to get the two of us a nice deal on a place not too far away from the local community college where the two of us attended. It was small, but with a storage closet full of our old things, clearly not small enough.
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I let out an oath as I rip open the box, seeing nothing but old photo albums and loose polaroids. Clearly a box OF pictures, not for things to take pictures with. Disgruntled, I move to put the box back before something catches my eye at the bottom: An unopened white bubble envelope, the faded address label listing my old apartment. It catches my eye like a vice, squeezing everything else out of my sight, out of my mind. The noise from the party dims as I thumb over Fang’s old address on the return label. These must be the prom pictures Fang’s mom took, right before it happened…
My hands shake as I gingerly rip open the pull tab, a thick stack of photos wrapped in paper falling out. Having never been able to open them or throw them out, I must’ve kept them, all this time, a glimpse into a past I wanted to forget. As I turned the paper-wrapped photos over in my hand, I see a hand-written message on the other side: “She would want you to remember who she was, not what she had done.” Fang’s mom’s handwriting.
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Sitting down on that dusty storage closet floor, I flip through the photos, tears welling in my eyes. My photo with Naser, us looking like a couple of dorks in our suits, arms around each other. A sob escapes my lips as I find one of Fang and I standing there in our prom outfits, smiles on our faces. Not a day goes by where I don’t think about her, but I had forgotten just how beautiful she looked. The photos dredge up memories I had long since buried, memories of a time right before it happened… A tear falls on the photo, and I wipe it away quickly, my finger tracing Fang’s face.
“Geez Anon, I thought you skinnies were good gatherers or something! Come on, my mom can just get the photos on her phone.” At once, Trish’s voice breaks me out of my misery. I can see her standing in the doorway, an elegant evening dress of green shimmering in the half-light. Catching my face, her face goes from an expression of happiness, to confusion, to concern, all the in the space of an attosecond. She’s at my side at once, kneeling on the dusty floor with me, wrapping me in her arms as she cradles my head to her sizable bosom.
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“Oh, Anon, it’s okay, it’s going to be okay…” Rocking me back and forth, Trish glances down at the photos as they spill out of my numb hands. Although I can’t see her face, I can hear the strain in her voice as she fights back her own tears. “I miss them too, Anon. Every day I miss Fang, but they brought us together, didn’t they?” Kissing the top of my head as I sob into her dress, Trish slowly strokes my bald head, rocking me back and forth like a baby. “I didn’t want things to end up like they did, but I’m so glad at what you and I have become, and it wouldn’t have happened without them.”
Drawing a shuddering gasp, I manage to get a hold of myself at last. Withdrawing my head from Trish’s chest, I wrap her in a hug of my own, her tears falling wetly on my shoulder.
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“I know Trish, I know… I miss Fang too, but I’m happy now, happy with you. You’ve made me grow as a person, helped me see them for who they were, and I’m glad I can share that with you.” Drawing Trish’s face to mine, I dry her tears with my hand, laughing as she moved to do the same to me. Sharing a deep kiss, as deep as the one we had when I first proposed, Trish and I finally pick ourselves up, smiling at one another. Our hands entwine as we move back to the party, Trish complaining that I’ve ruined her make-up.
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Trish and I may share the pain of what Fang had done, but there’s no denying that without them, neither of us would’ve found love.