Reaching his apartment, West pulled his hood farther over his head and hid his eyes with his hair. He slowly climbed the stairs of the seven-story red-brick building in front of him, relishing in their simplicity and calmness.  A break from the calamity, he thought.
Reaching the sixth floor, he walked to apartment D-H103. The keys jingled as he unlocked the door and walked inside. The cream-colored walls gave off a sense of warmth, gave more size to a relatively small home. His living room stood before him, a large stone-grey rug at the center of it. Around this rug were couches: satin, black, modern, and a slightly unusual shape. Atop the rug was a clear glass table, arranged to be in the exact middle of the area.
West took off his jacket and slung it across one of the three couches. On the second couch lay another friend of his: Adley, his roommate.
“Hey, West! What’s shakin’?”
West chuckled at this sudden informality.
“The usual.”
“Right – you met somebody new?”
“Of course.” 
“You’re always so doom and gloom when this happens. Isn’t it normal? What’s so bad about someone who appreciates you trying to meet you?”
“Adley, you know I’ve explained this to you dozens of times.”
“Sure, but I wanna hear it again.”
“Adley – “
“Look, I seriously just don’t get why you aren’t happy all the time – it’s like you hate your fans or something. Aren’t they your friends? They know you, you just don’t know them! Exciting!”
“It must be fun to you too, right? Perfect, even?”
“Yes! Why wouldn’t it be?”
West made his way over to the kitchen and began to pour himself a glass of seltzer water.
He gave a deep sigh. “That’s the definition of a stranger. I don’t know them,” West said, placing his glass on the marble countertop indifferently. “And, Adley… I can’t pretend a stranger is a long-awaited friend.”
"Well then... what if I was one of those fans?"
"Excuse me?"
"Yeah, you heard me. What if I was just an outsider. A 'stranger' as you call 'em?"
"That isn't the case."
"But what if it was?"
"Adley, you know you're one of the only real friends I have. You're not a stranger, and that's brilliant. I know you for who you are and you know me for who I really am."
"If you care so little about people, though..."
"That’s not what I said. I just said that I really don't care for strangers – note that I said strangers – thinking they know who I am and treating me like some god on a pedestal." 
"But you just – " 
"No. Now quit pushing this discussion, it's over."
Adley let the words resonate within him, choosing not to express how they made him feel but instead giving a simple eye roll.
“Whatever. Hey, don’t get like that with me! You’re being all stone-faced again – you were just starting to loosen up! C'mon!" 
Glass in hand, West sat himself on the couch opposite of Adley.  "You know that it wasn't always like this," he said.
"I know, West, you've told me before."
"But I want you to hear it again."

About a year and a half ago, West had been walking down the street outside of his studio, when a fan came up to him.
"Hi, West Way? I can't believe it's you! I found you!" The fan was giddy and gleeful, with bright, shining, hopeful eyes.
"Why hello there!” West replied, trying to model a similar level of enthusiasm in his voice, “Can I help you?" 
"Can I have your autograph?"
"I'm very sorry, but I've happened to have lost my pen today – my manager accidentally took it. Can I interest you in a handshake and a conversation instead? I'd love to get to know you!"
The fan gave West a puzzled look.
"Are you sure?" they asked.
West didn't know why the fan who thought of him as the greatest man alive wouldn't happily accept the offer. 
He spoke with anxiety. "Yes, I'm sure... I really am sorry! Here, maybe I can – " 
"No, that's okay." 
"But, you can still meet me! I'm right here!"
"Yeah... I've gotta get going."
"Are you sure?"
"Look, I don't want – "
The fan caught himself. He didn't want to admit to his selfishness.
"I mean, I just don't have the time – "
Then it clicked inside West's head. All of these people.
He now saw the reason why they would come up to him.
He realized.
"I see. Very well then."
The stranger walked away.

"That story gets more depressing every time you tell it, Wes." Adley spoke with a sorrowful expression on his face, his tan skin reddening slightly.
"Yeah, yeah…” sighed West, hoping that Adley had taken the story for more than its face value, “We can talk about something else if you want."
"I'll gladly take you up on that offer."

Upon waking up, West was bombarded with voicemails. This was normal, but there was an unusually high number. 
Not wanting to contemplate what this meant, West laid back down, only to finally remove himself from his bed a few short minutes later. He stood up, walked to the kitchen and started to make himself a cup of coffee. It was almost finished brewing when Adley walked into the living room from his bedroom on the opposite side of the apartment.
“Mornin’ Wes!” 
“Good morning. Does it bother you that much to say the last letter of my name?”
“Nah, just a nickname. You know?” 
“So, it is.”
He walked back to his bedroom, barely having taken a sip of his coffee when the telephone beside his bed rang.
"Telephone!" called out Adley.
"Go figure."
West put the telephone up to his ear, and put on a voice that made him sound like he had woken up in a wonderful mood, what other mood could he be in?
"Hello?"
"West Way?" Asked the voice on the other line.
"Yep. Who might this be?"
"It's Marty, y’know, your agent? Well, I was just calling to let you in on some great news!"
"Is that so?"
"Yep yep yep! We've scored you a role in the biggest movie America's gonna see for the next ten years!"
"I see... what movie is this, again?"
"Oh, yanno... just a little movie called... The Sixth Chronicle!"
West then uttered words that he'd remember for the rest of his life, that would shape his career in ways he couldn't possibly imagine.
He thought of the crowds, the swarms, the strangers, the media itself.
"I'll think about it," West said before hanging up.

“Why in the world would you turn down such a great opportunity?! I know you hate the attention or whatever, but that’s so much money you could be making!” Marty exclaimed.
West was at his studio now – a relatively small room in a crowded high-rise building. The walls were painted a generic white, randomly dispersed modern paintings hung about them. There was a hardwood table in the middle of the space, almost black against the furry beige carpet. There were two couches and three chairs, the couches of brown leather and the chairs of blue plastic.
“Speaking of money, why don’t you use some of what you’ve got to go get a better studio than this dingy crawlspace?”
This was where West went to discuss business matters with his manager, Marty, and his show friends Cam and Diane. 
“Also, can you guys maybe play up the friendship a little more? We need to get photo ops of you guys doing things together so that we get more headlines.” Marty said, his expression not matching his words.
“Sure, do you still want that showmance?” Diane asked. They had been talking about possibly arranging her and West into a romantic relationship, only for the cameras – only for the spotlight. 
“We’ll discuss that later,” Marty replied.
“For the friendship, sure.” Cam seeing reason to disagree.
“West?”
West closed his eyes and put his head down. “First and foremost, I am not engaging in a ‘showmance.’ Secondly, I am not going to ‘play up’ this show friendship thing that we have right now. Both things are much too far in my opinion. Now, can we get back to the movie you wanted me to star in?”
Marty’s eyebrows furrowed, his thin white hair curling over his widow’s peak. His oddly yellow eyes stared straight into West’s, tempered anger within them. 
“That’s not your decision to make, West.”
“It surely must be. Don’t you make even more money than I do when I star in these movies? If you want me to put up with the attention of starring in a film that’s going to have people lining up in the hundreds, you’re most definitely not going to force me to fake a romance, for Heaven’s sake.”
“We need to have a private discussion when we’re done here.”
Diane and Cam stared blankly at the situation that had just unfolded before them, Diane’s doll face breaking character for a split second before returning to its ocean-eyed, rosy-cheeked, red-lipped state of being. 
“Anyway,” the manager spoke, with a hint of indignation, "Yes. The movie. That film is predicted to be the biggest thing America has seen in decades. The Sixth Chronicle is going to be on every billboard around, with posters left and right. Do you know what that means? That means money. Big money. Money for you and me. Millions, West. Do you understand?”
West did not respond.
“You have to understand West. Please. I’m beggin’ you at this point. There’s so much in it for both you and me! Wouldn’t you like to be in a million-dollar home and own a Lamborghini? Even the dollars you have now couldn’t cover a fifteen-bedroom mansion. Don't you want to be able to buy anything you want without worrying? Huh? Wouldn’t you want to just be everyone’s favorite? Everyone would want to meet you! West Way, the biggest attraction in Hollywo – “ 
He realized what was wrong with his words as West stood up.
“I will make no decision today. Maybe tomorrow, maybe the next day. But there isn’t a possibility of me deciding on this matter on this day,” he stated firmly.
“Please, West! You’ve gotta do this! They want your purple-eyed, blonde-haired likeness in this multi-billion-dollar film!” Marty begged, clasping his hands together.
“I didn’t say 'no,' I just didn’t say 'yes' either.”
West made his way over to the door, and left the studio without further word.

It was week two of September, one week out of one month had passed. West was in his apartment now, grabbing parts of his hair and slowly staining them with dye that made golden-blonde look jet-black. As he let them go they hung for a split second, and then half-curled on the top of his head. Soon enough his hair was the color of the midnight sky, and he looked up at himself in the mirror.

“Back to how it used to be,” West said to himself, remembering how Marty had asked that he dye his hair blonde two years ago. His reasoning was that it, combined with his eyes, would attract more attention and he would become instantaneously noticed.
“Only those who care to notice me will notice me,” he spoke to the memory, and thought about how strangers looking to attack the pale-haired purple-eyed celebrity that denied a movie wouldn’t be able to recognize their target. Giving a triumphant chuckle, he trotted into his living room and sat down. Whilst sitting he thought, as he did every afternoon. Without Adley in the bedroom beside him, he was free to ponder what actions he would take. He had decided that he would think like this, from five PM to six PM, every day, for the entirety of the month.
“Now, now, Europe. Adley and Amanda are coming to Europe. Adley and Amanda are...” He stopped his manic sentence in order to wrap his mind around the fact that he hadn’t yet confirmed that Amanda would be joining. Feeling the need to change this, he went into his bedroom and called her.
“West?” A confused Amanda half-asked.
“Hello.”
“What do you want?”
“Well, I wanted to discuss some unfinished plans with you.”
“I sure do hope you’re not calling about… what was it again… right, wanting to move to Europe? Isn’t that what you said to me a few weeks ago?”
“I – “
“Oh, and don’t even get me started on the fact that you hung up right after that and didn’t answer any of my calls.”
“I was busy.”
“So am I, West! I have a life too! I’ll always be your friend, but I can’t go through with decisions like this! There’s way too much on the line!”
“I’m sure every newspaper company in London will want you on their journalist team.”
“London? Now we’ve specified it to London? Oh boy.”
“Plus, you won’t have to worry about money, I’ll take care of that for a few months until you get back on your feet.”
“The scary thing is that I’m actually considering doing this.”
“You should! New life, new you!”
“What ‘new me’ am I gonna make? I’ll still be Amanda Grain: journalist and mother of many plants.”
“Well, for starters, I dyed my hair back to its natural color.”
“So, you want me to dye mine a different color? Should reddish brown become platinum blonde?”
“No, but you get the general idea.”
Amanda didn’t speak for a lengthy ten minutes, and West considered hanging up.
“Are you still there?” He spoke into the phone.
Two more minutes passed; West was inching his finger along the backside of the flip phone to close it when Amanda finally spoke.
“Fine.”
West jerked the phone back up to his ear, startled.
“You’ll do it?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“This is perfect. You can still talk to your old friends and coworkers, you just can’t see them…”
“I know, West. Now, don’t make me change my mind.”
“Why did you accept?”
“What did I just say?”
“Alright, alright. I’ll see you at the end of the month?”
“Sure.” The two then almost hung up, but Amanda had questions of her own.
“Wait!” The phone cried. West hurriedly tried to prevent it from closing shut.
“Yeah? Also, if you could not dramatically wait until the last second when I almost hang up on you to say something, that would be great.”
“Well, sorry. Anyway, just so we’re clear, how did you come to this whole London thing again?”
“Oh! London is an optimal city because of the social climate, the –“
“No, West. I meant the whole thing. You know, the whole… moving to Europe thing? Also, why’d you choose me of all people to come with you?”
“First of all, I chose Europe because nobody would recognize me there. Do you understand how tired I am of strangers either selfishly stealing my life for themselves or naming my existence as the single worst thing on the planet? Don’t get me wrong, I very much prefer the second option, but it starts to wear you out, y’know?”
“Why couldn’t it just be Los Angeles or Atlanta?”
“People know me in Los Angeles and Atlanta.”
“Fair point.”
“Secondly, I chose you because we’ve been friends for about eight years. Adley’s coming too.”
“Makes sense. Alright, I’m still not fully okay with dropping everything to leave for another continent in a couple of weeks, but alright.”
“See you at the end of the month?”
“Sure thing.” The two then hung up, a mutual understanding between them.

A camera here, a camera there. It had been a few days since the studio altercation.
"Look happier."
"Move a little left."
Muffled words were being spoken under fake smiles. 
They were at a photoshoot now, one with the purpose of announcing West's decision in terms of The Sixth Chronicle. Since West had suggested it himself, Marty had agreed to let him and his friends hold the event under the presumption that West would say yes. How could he not? Would he really want to face hundreds of angry fans and persistent reporters? 
West stood, one arm around Cam, one arm around Diane. Lights flashed in many directions and a red carpet was laid out before them. They were all smiling, standing in front of a branded cardboard backdrop. There was a rope gate which separated the fans from the carpet. There were hundreds of them, the fans. Holding signs, screaming, taking pictures of their own. All of them were ecstatic to see their idol and his friends, to be close to the famed and the less famous. They were eager to hear that their favorite idol would be starring in what would be the most critically acclaimed movie of the decade – no – the century!
A microphone in hand, a reporter with murky eyes and jet-black hair took the center. 
"Hello everyone!"
He received a decent amount of yelling in return.
"I'm just as excited as you are! Here today, West Way will be announcing his star role in The Sixth Chronicle!"
West gently removed his arms from his friends' shoulders and began nervously fidgeting with his sleeve cuff. 
"Ladies and gentlemen, please give your attention to... West Way!"
The crowd roared, their signs waved even more valiantly than before. The microphone was then handed to West.
"Thank you, thank you," West cooed, easing the crowd.
"As you all know, I've been offered a role in The Sixth Chronicle..." The crowd gave an uproar of a reply.
"And, regarding this offer, I'd like to say that..."
The crowd was drenched in a loud silence. Everyone held their breath, as they wanted to hear West's announcement crystal clear. West looked at the crowd's eager faces. He looked back at his “friends” and Marty. He took a breath and smiled largely, brightly, with feeling. He then stated, quite frankly,
"… I politely decline."

The crowd’s faces became pale, everyone was hushed. The microphone was forcefully taken from West.

“Well then…” the announcer with murky eyes said with false confidence.

“There we have it! West Way will not be starring in The Sixth Chronicle!” A nervous laughter escaped his mouth in an attempt to ease the crowd’s silent seething.

West, a stupid grin on his face, was quite pleased with the response of the crowd.

“Why!?” A particularly hefty man shouted from the back of the horde.

The cluster of people then surged forward, shouting in blind rage at West. He himself was still beaming, staring at the chaos in front of him. Marty grabbed him by the shoulder and turned him around.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing!? Get back out there and – “

West interrupted Marty mid-sentence. “No thank you.”

“You’re in such big trouble! You’d better get back out there! Do you realize how much this is gonna screw up our publicity plan – our plan to get both of us rich!?”

“I believe both of those plans were fairly one-sided, sir.”

“That’s it!” I’ve had it up to here with you! I’m taking this whole situation to court – you are legally bound to do what I say! I am your manager!”

“Sure, you are.”
“Yes, I am! By that contract you signed at the beginning of this whole celebrity thing, I am officially your manager! You never brought back that contract, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t legally bound! You will be in this movie, West Way.”
West had been waiting for this moment for a little while. He pulled the contract, folded into a small square, unraveled it, and revealed what made Marty, Diane, and Cam’s jaws drop in disbelief and shock.
West had not signed the contract two years ago. He let go of the paper, letting it flutter to the ground. He then walked away, to the limousine that was wasn’t far from the photoshoot. Security guards prevented the strangers from attacking him, he told the driver to take him to 11023 Riverdale Lane.

Adley questioned West as soon as he saw him, “What did you just – “
“You saw.”
West abruptly walked into his apartment, locking the door behind him and quickly moving to shade the windows.
“The TV reporter seemed kinda bent outta shape.”
“Of course he did!” West grinned proudly.
“Why are you so happy? They’re gonna talk trash about you until you die, you’re never gonna be offered another anything, your career is over!”
West gave Adley a look.
“That’s what you wanted, didn’t you?” Adley caught on to West's scheme.
“Maybe.”
“You idiot.”
“Maybe.”
West simply couldn’t prevent himself from smiling even more.
“I see that change in attitude. This is how you were when I first met you. The always smiling eyes, the upbeat and in-the-clouds tone. You haven’t been this happy in a long time, have you?”
“Nope. Anyway, I need to figure out what I should do next.”
“Really? Are you sure you don’t need to, ‘ponder your current options?’” Adley mocked, intending to make sure that West was, in fact, no longer stuck in his old ways.

“Very funny. You should be a comedian.”

“I try,” Adley said with a grin of subtle acknowledgement.

West went to his room, throwing himself on his bed. The steel blue duvet covers rippled, the cherry-colored wood frame creaked. West’s white suit crinkled in various places, and his charcoal bowtie fell off. He opened his bedside drawer, and started going through the papers inside of it. A small slip of paper with torn sides stood out to him, and he picked it up, closing his drawer. On this piece was a phone number which he dialed.

“Amanda?”

“This is her. West? Is that you?” Said the voice on the other line.

“Yeah.”

“I saw your little debacle on TV! That guy with the white hair seemed to get super mad at you. Doesn’t he know it’s your choice if you wanna do movies or not?”

“That doesn’t matter. Hey, look, I wanted to ask you something – “

“Well, in his defense, you did kinda look like you were gonna say yes… that was kind of the whole point of the photoshoot,” Amanda interjected.

“Focus please. Will you go to Europe with me?”

“Like, on vacation? I’m kinda busy right now, and you haven’t talked to me in what, a year?”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. You’ve been a good friend of mine for what, seven more years than that?”

“Well, like I've said, I’m busy.”

“You might reconsider though, I didn’t mean on vacation.”

“Well then what did you…”

“Permanently.”

Adley balked at the idea of moving to Europe.

“Where even in Europe would you go, Wes!? Wouldn’t people there, and people on the plane recognize you? You don’t have the – this is just insane!”

“I thought you’d be a little more excited.”

“No, Wes! I’d be excited if you said you wanted to move to say, Alaska, but Europe!? That’s a whole ‘nother continent!”

“I mean, you’re always one for adventure.”
“This a little more than ‘adventure’, West Way!”
“So, it is.”
“Why do you even want to do this!?”
“To get away from everyone, of course. Very few people will know who I am over there.”
“But why such an extreme? Again, Alaska is an option!”
“Europe has different cultures, different everythings. They won’t think anything of some purple-eyed blonde kid moving there. If anything, I’d just be someone else crowding the subway.”
Adley sighed.
“When do you want to leave?”
“I’m not that sure, maybe in about a month or so?”
“You can’t hide for a whole month!”
“Why, of course I can! I wouldn’t hide, either – I want to see the effect my denial has on the strangers that apparently once loved me.”
“You’ve got a bone to pick with everyone, don’tcha’ Wes?”
“Hey, it’s not my fault that these strangers didn’t mean it when they said I was their everything.”
“You’re being a little vengeful.”
“So, I am.”
“I like it.”
“Good. Now, I’ve invited Amanda, I’m not sure if she will accept or decline,” he said, raising his head slightly in thought.
“Alrighty, so a month from now you wanna leave here for Europe with Amanda and I?”
“That’s the plan.”

The streets were surprisingly empty for the event that had occurred in two weeks past. The rain poured down in masses, West was walking from his apartment to somewhere he remembered. His blue and black sneakers sloshed in the rain puddles, his mauve rain-jacket covered his torso, the hood atop his head.
West gazed up at the high-rises as he paced, getting lost in the splendor of the lighted windows. They glared down on the mundane street, giving off a soft yellow glow. West wondered who was behind each of these windows, what they were doing at the time. Were they strangers of West’s? Were they indifferent to him? Would they ever cross paths in the future?
West wasn’t looking at where he was going, and soon enough his jacket met the cold, damp pavement of the sidewalk. He lay there for a second, relishing in this moment of fault. His eyes fell upon a woman and her child, wearing matching bright-yellow raincoats and duck boots, exiting the apartment complex near him. Their gazes met, and the pair ran over to West.
“Are you okay sir?!”
The child huddled, concerned, behind his mother. West stood up, wiped the dirt off of himself. He met the woman with suspicious eyes. The woman returned a look of worry.
“I’m just fine, thank you.”
“Are you sure? You seemed to just be laying there.”
“I – I’m positively sure.”
“Well then, good day – watch where you step next time, would you?”
“Will do.”
West continued on his way, the child scampered off with his mother in the opposite direction. This had been an encounter of strangers, the good kind. The stranger had no opinion of West, West reciprocated. Unbiased kindness was allowed to shine through. West wondered what the child had thought of him.
“How nice,” West thought. He gave a slight smile, only to himself.
Then, the steps of a small, crowded high rise building were in front of him. He walked up them, stepping through the revolving door and finding a tiny room with generic white walls.

He moved his eyes around, gazing at the various artworks. They themselves had no meaningful meaning, the titles were names such as “Dots II” and “Line 4.” He picked one off the wall, examined it in his hands. The colors did not scream, rather, they had no voice. He saw his past self in them.
West was interrupted by a sudden opening of the door behind him. He froze, dropped the painting, did not turn around.
“Oh… it’s you… I don’t know what I’m – you’re doing here… we don’t need to retrieve our things right now…”
The voice was timid and shy.
“Yeah, should I – I should be going…” A stronger, more deep voice joined in.
“Wait.” West characterized them immediately. “Cam, Diane, what are you going to do now?” He turned his head to face them.
“As of right now, we’ll be leaving,” Cam stated with sarcastic confidence.
“No, I mean, what will your careers be envisioned as at this moment?”
“West, we really should just – you can have your time alone…“
“Hush,” West commanded. “You don’t need to leave me alone right now. As much as Marty may have said so, I am not a deplorable human being. Now, I asked you a question, what will your careers be like now that I’ve quit Hollywood?”
“Why do you even care? Why are you asking us this? Just. Let. Us. Leave.” Cam was the one fighting West now, Diane had taken a backseat.
“If this situation is going to throw both of your lives away, I’ll make some sort of amends with Marty and the show will go on for a while until you can figure something out. I’m not heartless, I won’t throw the both of you out on the street. You’ve had to deal with the same things I have, just on a smaller scale. You’re deserving of some sort of compensation, are you not?”
“I’ll be just fine. It’s pretty easy for me to find movies to be in,” Diane spoke up.
Cam gave West a questioning look. “Well, if you care all of a sudden, I’ll be decent. Some sitcom will come and recruit me, will take me in; I’ll be a token character or what have you.”
“Very well. I see no reason for us to have any further contact, yes?”
“West, what were you doing here in the first place?” Diane asked a brave, pushing question.
Silence roamed, creeped throughout the room. The air of nothingness took hold of the three actors and swirled about them, leaving a feeling of emptiness in their bodies.
“Here? I’m not quite sure. I’m not sure how I got here either, I've long been clueless in terms of fame. But, if you’re asking about what I was doing at this studio, I came to take in a brief memory.”
The absence of reaction wasn’t surprising.
“Well then, goodbye.”
West turned around fully, took a careful gaze at Diane’s ocean eyes, at Cam’s hefty frame. He took in their expressions, their faces, committed them to a sort of remembrance.
West walked through the two strangers, through the door. He thought about how he once called them his friends.
“For what,” he said to an empty, dark street. He then spoke no further. There was nothing more to say, there needed not be anything more to say.

Adley came wandering down the street before him.
“Figured you’d be here.”
West said nothing.
“Need some time alone?”
“I need one month’s time. Then, I need you and Amanda to leave with me.”
“Where will you stay for a month?”
“I’d like my apartment. I’ve made arrangements for you to live in another apartment in the same complex.”
“So, you do need time alone?”
“I need one month’s time.”
“Well I’ll see you in a month then.”
They were about to walk different paths back to their homes, but Adley had one final question to ask before a month would pass.
“West?”
West stopped in his tracks, didn’t make any effort to look at Adley.
“Are you sure you’re ready to do this?”
West took his hood off, but still did not turn to face his closest accomplice.
“Of course.”
The two then continued to walk their parallel, yet intersecting, ways.

Looking up at the pale blue sky, West sighed a sigh of relief. No one had noticed him so far. He was wearing a black hoodie and dark denim jeans in twenty-degree weather, the only looks he got were ones of question. How was he not freezing without a proper coat, they surely thought. He pushed the glass door of the convenience store open, heading for the section of snack items. His eyes grazed the blue canisters of walnuts, the plastic bags of baked snack crackers.
“I came here by chance, I was just walking and found this,” West thought to himself, “I’ve never been in this place before, but I need to act like that isn’t the reason why I’m here.” Looking around, he acted like he was intrigued by the various flavors of chip. In reality, however; he was performing a test: since everyone knew him at his old convenience store, he had to find a new one that would result in less angry mobs.
His thoughts were interrupted by a small woman about the age of 35, who was tapping him on the shoulder.
“West?”
“Hello? I don’t believe I’ve ever met you before.”
“I believe you have, you’re the one that fell in front of my apartment complex a few weeks ago, yes?”
Was this the woman that had come with her daughter to make sure he was alright? His thoughts were confirmed when tiny red curls came bouncing down the aisle. The daughter gripped her mother’s leg and stared straight up at her. The woman gave West a quick apology, and then turned her head down to her daughter.
“Hi Clare. What do you need?”
“I wanna go.”
“Give me five more minutes, okay?” Her tone was gentle and nurturing.
“But I wanna go now.”
“But Clare, I don’t think you’ve looked at all of the candy bars yet.”
“But I can’t have one.”
“I’ll make you a deal. If you give me five more minutes, I will buy you one candy.”
The daughter’s face turned from an annoyed pout to an excited smile almost instantly. “Really!?”
“Yes. Now go, you only have five minutes!”
Clare ran off toward the candy bar section. West noticed that she was still wearing her sky-blue rainboots with yellow ducks on them. They seemed out of place, as the rest of her outfit consisted of green sweatpants and a long-sleeved pink shirt with many sequins on it.
“You must be staring at her boots, yes? Sometimes, I think she loves those rainboots more than she loves me.” The mother shook her head, a slight grin on her face, then turned back to West. “Anyway, are you or are you not the one that fell?”
“I am.”
“I didn’t notice that it was you, of all people.”
“What difference would it have made had you known it was me?”
“None at all. The only real difference would be that when I would tell my friends the story of the man that fell, I would get shocked expressions instead of ones of concern.”
“So, you wouldn’t’ve cared that it was me?”
“A guy who falls is a guy who falls; it would seem more appropriate to ask him if he was okay rather than to gush over the fact that I saw him in a movie.”
“How did you recognize me with –“
“The hair change? Your hair isn’t your most defining feature, but I’d recognize those eyes any day. Your hair looked much like its current color under your hood and in the rain, stained by mud. Also, I didn’t follow you here. I just made an agreement with myself, after I realized who I’d helped, that if I saw you again, I’d say something to you.”
“Fair points. Continuing on, can I help you?”
“I’m the one who should be asking that question. I saw your fall from grace on live TV, it was pretty funny to watch all those brainless crazies go after you like that just because you said you didn’t want to be in one little movie. Well, big movie, but still.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Well, I was going to ask you if you needed a place to go. I did end up telling one friend that I’d seen you, and we started talking about the fact that you’re basically hated in Fairfox now.”
“Also, everywhere else in the U.S, since it was on live TV.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. This friend of mine lives in Kansas, and, apparently, a lot of other states are rooting for you. They blame the hate you’re getting on the vicious social climate of this city. Essentially, everyone else in the U.S except the residents of Fairfox and places like it realize that you have freewill.”
“So, you’re telling me that it’s really just our city that’s so ferocious?”
“This city, Atlanta, Los Angeles, Hollywood, and maybe even New York.”
“I understand now. So, let’s say I was to move to… Minnesota, would I be getting recognized everywhere and yelled at?”
“Not in the slightest. Coming full circle, the friend told me that if I ever did end up finding you again, I could tell you that they have a house somewhere in Kansas that they’re keeping for market purposes. But, they’d be willing to let you keep it since they have about a dozen others.”
“This all seems like one big coincidence. I fall on the street; I somehow, again, run into the person who helps me up. Then, to bring it all together, this person has a friend who’s very wealthy and owns many houses in a far-away state! This friend is willing to give me one of the houses to stay in.”
“Oh, did I say give? They know that you’re not exactly poor, so they want you to pay half of what the house is worth.”
“What is the house worth?”
“Around eight-hundred-thousand dollars.”
“That means I pay… four hundred thousand!?”
“You can calm down; the friend accepts rent.”
West gave a sigh of relief, and Clare came waddling down the aisle with a bouquet of fifteen lollipops that were all tied together.
“Clare, I told you that you could get one candy.”
“This is one candy! Look, they don’t come apart, see?” Clare argued as she tried to pull the lollipops out of the tie.
“Smart kid,” West remarked.
The mother groaned. “Don’t encourage her. Clare, honey, did you check the price tag to see how much the lollipops are?”
“They are fifteen dollars,” the daughter said matter-of-factly.
“That’s a dollar per lollipop… fair.”
“So, can I keep it!?”
“Honey, no, how about I just drive to the other convenience store and get you a slush instead?”
“But I want these! I checked my watch momma - it’s been a whole fifteen minutes! I’ve been patient for a lot of time.” Clare wove her arm around as high in the air as she could stretch it, pointing to the camouflage watch on her wrist.
The mother was about to delicately say that fifteen dollars was a bit too much for a candy when West interjected. “I’ll get that for you.” He turned to the mother, “It’s the least I can do, since you’re going to provide an escape from this awful city.”
“Don’t worry about it. She needs to learn, and you need to save for rent.”
“No, you don’t worry about it.” He turned down to look at Clare and outstretched a hand. “C’mon kid, you can have your lollipops.”
Clare ran to her mother and hid behind her.
“Clare, this man is trying to be nice and buy your candy for you.”
“But you said never to talk to strangers ever, momma.”
“This is different; he’s not quite a stranger. Now go, before he changes his mind.”
“Yay!” Clare squealed as she skipped along the aisle toward the checkout, West jogging behind her to keep up.
“And Clare, what do we say to the nice man?” Her mother, yelling because of the distan ce between them, asked her.
“Thank you!” Clare seemed to be more responding to her mother than thanking West, but it was acceptable nonetheless.
The mother caught up with them at the checkout, giving West more details about when and where he could move in.
“I just have one more question.”
“Go ahead.” The mother was a bit distracted by her daughter, who was jumping up and down, but she was listening.
“Can I bring some people with me?”
“It depends: will they be living with you? And, if not, can they provide for themselves?”
“One of them might move in, the other I’m not so sure about. Both I can provide for if need be.”
“I’m sure my friend is alright with you bringing one or two people into the house… it’s so gargantuan that it’s like two houses put into one.”
“Perfect. So, in three days, on September 30, me and possibly two other people will be flying to a house in the City of Overland in Kansas. I will be paying one-thousand dollars or more per month as rent until I pay off the value of four-hundred-thousand, gotcha. What was your name again?”
“Janet.”
“Okay, and what was the name of this friend of yours?’
Janet’s answer was interrupted by Clare’s antics: she, since the candy had been purchased, was running toward the door to leave the convenience store. Janet followed Clare, leaving West wondering who the friend was.
“Wait! What was their name!?” He called as he threw himself against the glass door in an attempt to get Janet to hear him as she walked away. “Don’t go, what was their – “
“Janet!” A voice at the end of the street called back to him. West dwelled in this answer briefly, then decided that this woman deserved his full and complete trust.

West was knocking on the door of apartment number D-H119. A voice on the other side of the door asked who was there, and West let himself in.
Adley, startled, jumped backward – almost hitting a large coatrack. “West? You? What are you doing here? Has September flown by that quickly?”
“No. I’m not going to stay for long, but in three days, we’re moving to Kansas.” West stood in the small entrance corridor, not even taking off his coat.
“Kansas? That’s not in Europe.”
“No, it isn’t. I have no time to explain, but me, you, and Amanda are moving to the City of Overland.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yes. I ran into a… woman, who I’d previously met, and she… has a friend… who owns many houses in Kansas. The friend knows of how horrible this city is to people like me, and felt like being a little charitable.”
“So, let me get this straight, a woman who you know has a friend who is so incredibly wealthy that they can just give away a house?”
“It’s not giving, I have to pay one-thousand dollars’ worth of rent until I pay off the amount of four-hundred thousand.”
“That’s about a year and a couple of months, you sure you want to live in Kansas for that long? Didn’t you say people would recognize you?”
“Some will. But, according to this friend, a lot of people don’t support the backlash that I’ve been getting.”
“I’d hate to say ‘I told you so,’ but…” A sly grin slowly appeared on Adley’s face.
“Alright, alright. But, in all fairness to me, she did also say that places like Atlanta and New York would be the same as Fairfox.”
“She? This friend of the woman’s is a she? How do you know?”
West’s face suddenly looked concerned, and he struggled to find his words. “No – no reason, just know that we’re moving to the City of Overland in three days. I hear it’s a nice place.”
“I won’t ask you any more questions because it’s clear I won’t get answers. Alright, City of Overland, three days.”
“That’s the plan. Now, I have to go tell Amanda…”
“You haven’t told her yet!? She’s gonna be mad that you’ve given her only three days of notice, she’s a very busy lady.”
“I’m sure she’ll understand. We’ve known each other since college.”
“Alright, well, you should probably go tell Amanda that we’re changing the destination to Kansas.”
“I will. See you in three days?”
“See you in three days.”
West hurried out of this apartment and walked as fast as he could without running to his own, D-H103. He threw open his door and ran through the apartment, trying to find his phone. Arriving at his bedroom, he saw the phone; he then picked it up and dialed Amanda’s number.
“Hello?”
“Hey Amanda, this is West, just calling to say that the plans have been changed a little bit.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, instead of moving to London in a week, we’re moving to Kansas in three days!”
“We’re moving to where!? In how many days!?” Amanda near-yelled in disbelief at West, his phone vibrating from the volume.
“Please calm down; I said City of Overland, Kansas, in three days.” West paced back and forth in his bedroom, flip-phone in hand.
Amanda sighed and decided that this wasn’t worth a fight.
“Fine, at least that’s closer and less expensive than Europe. Where are we going to live?”
“We’re going to be living in the same house with Adley. Trust me, it’s a very large home.”
“Okay. What if – “
“What if you want to move out? Don’t worry, I can take care of that. I’m going to use the money I have now to provide for you, Adley, and myself for a few months until I can land a job somewhere that doesn’t involve cameras.”
“Sounds like a solid plan. Three days?”
“Three days.” The call was ended.