Chapter 1: Lena
11:30 PM PST: Lena
The bouncer sat on a barstool just outside the entrance to Crow’s Cauldron, the bar that doubled as a music venue where Lena was huddled under the eves, trying to look as natural as she could as she waited for her best friend, Nicole. She had her hands shoved under her armpits to keep them warm and eyed the outdoor heater on the other side of the entrance, its coils glowing orange in the inky black night. Lena envied the bouncer as he held his hands near the heater, rubbing them together to generate heat. She was internally arguing with herself just to walk over there so she could melt away some of the December cold that was making her fingernails turn blue.
You’re cold, stop being stupid and just go warm up, she thought to herself as she tried to break free of the anxiety that kept her fixed in place at the thought of being perceived by a stranger. Why are you like this? Could you just be normal, for once in your life?Before Lena could make a decision, She jumped when she felt her pager vibrate against her hip. Her frozen fingers fumbled with the small device clipped to her studded belt, stomach fluttering with anxiety as she read the number on the screen. She recognized Nicole’s boyfriend, Scott’s phone number blinking at her. Scott lived in the fancy new highrise in the Pearl district as a budding PROFESSION, a building with its own bellhop standing at his podium at the entrance. The fluttering in Lena’s stomach turned sour as she stared at Scott’s number, mentally calculating the distance between his building and Crow’s Cauldron.
Lena scanned her immediate surroundings until she spotted the row of 3 payphones that were, of course, behind the bouncer that she was trying to look normal in front of. With concentration, she got her feet to move and was silently cheering when she passed the bouncer without looking in his direction until the toe of her boot caught the slightly upraised lip of the sidewalk square and caused her to stumble and drop the pager. She heaved a sigh of annoyance, scooped to pick up the pager, and approached the payphones. The last payphone was occupied by a thin man who was covering the receiver with one hand as he spoke into it. She didn’t like how fidgety the man was and eyed the other phones. One metal cord had been severed, the end swaying below the phone in the breeze. The last phone next to the man was EW GROSS, so Lena turned away in frustration, searching the nearby buildings until she spotted a lone payphone across the street on the sidewalk in front of a decaying storefront that hadn’t seen customers in years. She hesitated, glancing between her options. She was about to suck it up and use the phone next to the man until his stance suddenly changed and he was shouting into the receiver. The bouncer looked up from his clipboard and caught Lena’s gaze for a moment, assessing if he needed to step in. He shrugged, then returned to scribbling on the clipboard in his lap.
Deciding to wait until the man was finished yelling into the payphone, Lena took the opportunity to thaw out her fingertips and sidled up as close as she dared to the bouncer’s outdoor heater.
Feeling the pager buzz at her hip again, Lena sighed and trudged to the sidewalk and, after ensuring she wouldn’t be flattened by oncoming traffic, dashed across the street to the lone payphone. She was digging through her pockets for change when she felt fat drops of rain splat against her skull. Sure, she thought as she dropped a quarter into the payphone and punched in Scott’s number, why does this feel like a bad omen?
Lena huddled as close as she dared to the grungy payphone, attempting to shield her head from the rain under the plastic cage of the phone with no luck. She settled for angling her neck so the receiver was mostly covered so she could hear the rhythmic ringing of Scott’s phone.
Pick up, pick up, pick--
“Hello?” A male voice answered the phone, then shushed people laughing in the background. Scott.
“Is Nicole there? It’s Lena.”
“Of course it is,” Scott replied, something in his voice making her skin go hot as she recognized the obvious sounds of a party on the other line. The rustling of the phone changing hands indicated Scott had handed the phone to Nicole. The noise in the background began to recede until she heard the click of a closing door.
“Lena?” Nicole’s voice echoed against the bathroom’s interior.
“Hey, you’re gonna miss the show if you don’t leave soon,” Lena said, trying to sound casual. Her free hand tightened on the receiver as she stared at the cracked sidewalk beneath her boots.
Nicole hesitated. “I... I don’t think I’m going to make it, Lena. I’m sorry.”
“What?” Lena blinked, the words like a splash of cold water. “You promised. We always go to the New Year’s show together. You know what today is.”
Nicole sighed, and Lena could hear the guilt creeping into her tone. “I know, and I feel awful. But Scott wanted to celebrate tonight with everyone... we had news to share.”
“News?” Lena’s stomach churned. “What news?”
Nicole hesitated again, the brief pause stretching unbearably. “Scott proposed,” she said softly, her voice tinged with excitement. “We’re engaged.”
Lena gripped the receiver tighter, struggling to keep her voice steady. “Wow. That’s... congratulations.”
“Thanks,” Nicole said, though her tone was muted, like she could sense Lena’s disappointment. “I wanted to call you earlier, but—it’s been such a whirlwind, you know? Scott wanted to tell everyone tonight... I wanted to tell you first.”
“But you didn’t.” The words slipped out before Lena could stop them.
Nicole sighed heavily. “Lena, don’t do this. I didn’t want to hurt you. I just... I knew it would bring up complicated stuff, and tonight was supposed to be happy.”
“Yeah,” Lena said, her voice quieter now. “Real happy.” She bit her lip, staring out at the rain-slick street. “Guess I’ll spend my birthday alone tomorrow. Again.”
Nicole groaned softly, and Lena could imagine her rubbing her temple. “Don’t say that. Come by tomorrow. We’ll do something special, just the two of us. Okay?”
“It’s fine,” Lena muttered. “Go back to your party, Nicole.”
“Lena—”
“I’ll see you around,” Lena cut in, hanging up before Nicole could reply.
The phone clicked in its cradle, leaving Lena standing in the rain, gripping the edges of the payphone as the sound of her shallow breaths filled the silence.
Lena leaned against the payphone for a long moment, her fingers numb against the cold metal. The rain had eased into a misty drizzle, the kind that clung to her skin and hair. She glanced toward the bar, its neon sign flickering above the entrance. The muffled sounds of laughter and music drifted through the air, but the thought of going back inside alone made her stomach twist.
I could just go home, she thought, though the idea felt even worse. The empty apartment would only remind her of everything she didn’t have tonight: company, warmth, a sense of belonging.
With a sharp breath, Lena shoved her hands into her jacket pockets and stepped away from the bar. “Screw it,” she muttered, her boots splashing softly against the wet pavement. She didn’t have a destination in mind, just the need to keep moving, to escape the weight pressing down on her chest.
The streets were alive with revelers. Groups of friends stumbled out of bars, their voices raised in drunken cheer. A street musician strummed an upbeat tune on a battered guitar, his case open for tips. Somewhere nearby, a man whistled loudly, followed by bursts of laughter.
Lena kept her head down, weaving through the crowd as the mist clung to her like a second skin. She avoided eye contact, her gaze fixed on the slick sidewalk ahead.
Then, the first fireworks shot into the sky, exploding in a cascade of gold and white.
Lena stopped in her tracks, tilting her head back as another burst followed, this one crimson and violet. More fireworks lit up the inky sky, each one louder and brighter than the last, casting fleeting shadows over the city.
She found herself smiling despite the ache in her chest, the vivid colors reminding her of better nights. Memories flickered in her mind—her and Nicole sharing sparklers on a summer evening, a foster family setting off bottle rockets in their backyard, the time she’d climbed onto a roof to watch fireworks with friends who no longer spoke to her.
A particularly bright burst illuminated the sky, and Lena whispered to herself, “Happy 27th birthday, Lena.” Her voice was soft, almost lost in the distant cheers and popping fireworks.
The finale came and went too quickly, leaving the sky dark again. The magic of the moment faded, replaced by the damp chill of the mist turning to rain. It started light, then grew heavier, and she pulled her jacket tighter as she hurried down the street, her hair already plastered to her forehead.
She ducked into the first place she could find—a 24-hour convenience store with buzzing fluorescent lights and a faintly sour smell. The aisles were empty save for a bored-looking clerk scrolling through a magazine at the counter.
Lena wandered toward the back, her eyes scanning the shelves of snacks and drinks until they landed on a lone bottle of champagne. It looked out of place among the rows of cheap beer and energy drinks, its gold foil glinting under the harsh lights. She hesitated, then picked it up, turning it over in her hands.
Why not? she thought. If nobody else is going to toast my birthday, I can do it myself.
Lena set the champagne bottle on the counter, its foil glinting dully under the fluorescent lights. The cashier glanced up from his magazine, his dark eyes flicking briefly to the bottle before drifting to the glass door, where rain was beginning to streak down in earnest.
“Man,” he muttered, shaking his head. “This rain just doesn’t let up.”
Lena gave a faint smile, shrugging as she reached for her wallet. “That’s okay,” she said, quoting without thinking. “‘It can’t rain all the time.’”
The clerk froze, his brow furrowing as he studied her. “Huh. That’s a line from The Crow, right?”
Lena blinked. “Yeah. Why?”
“I used to know someone who said that all the time.” He shook his head, a crooked smile spreading across his face as he looked at her more closely. His gaze dropped to the ID she handed over. As he checked it, his eyes widened slightly. “Lena? I should’ve known.”
She stared at him, his face stirring something distant but blurry in her mind. “Do I... know you?”
He laughed softly, shaking his head again. “It’s me. Brandon. We were in a foster home together.”
The name hit her like a spark, igniting memories of late-night whispers, stolen snacks, and the hollow ache she’d felt the night he disappeared. The sharper angles of his jawline and the stubble across his cheeks made him look different, older—but now that he’d said it, the familiarity was there.
“Brandon?” she echoed. “Holy shit. I—I didn’t even recognize you.”
“Yeah, well,” Brandon said with a shrug, “life has a way of beating the pretty out of you.”
He glanced at the clock on the wall, then back at her. “What are the odds? You still out here in Portland?”
Lena nodded, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah. Not exactly thriving, but... still here.”
“Same,” he said, leaning casually against the counter. “Working this glamorous gig while I figure out what’s next. What about you? You married, kids, big-shot career?”
Lena snorted, rolling her eyes. “Oh, yeah. Living the dream. I just bought a bottle of champagne to celebrate my very solo birthday. I’m killing it.”
Brandon arched a brow, his grin softening. “Your birthday’s today? No way. You still do New Year’s birthdays?”
“Still?” she said, tilting her head. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing,” he said, holding up his hands in mock defense. “Just remember you always hated how everyone else partied for New Year’s and forgot your birthday.”
Lena opened her mouth to reply, but the door behind her slammed open, cutting her off. A pair of drunken twenty-somethings stumbled inside, laughing too loudly as they made their way toward the snack aisle.
Brandon sighed, shaking his head as he grabbed the champagne bottle to ring it up. “This place never slows down. Tell you what—I’m off at 12:30. You wanna wait out the rain and catch up?”
Lena hesitated, glancing at the clock behind him. Fifteen minutes. She looked back at Brandon, then at the growing chaos near the snack aisle as the drunken customers jostled each other and laughed too loudly. “Sure,” she said, tucking the champagne under her arm. “Why not?”
Brandon smiled, the expression soft and familiar in a way that made her chest tighten. “Cool. There’s a bench out front. It’s covered, if you don’t mind waiting.”
Lena pushed open the convenience store’s glass doors, stepping out onto the narrow, rain-slick strip of sidewalk. The rain had settled into a mist again, just enough to cling to her hair and skin without soaking through. She sat on the bench just outside, uncorking the champagne with a soft pop and tipping the bottle to her lips.
The first sip was sharper than she’d expected, sending a fizz up her nose. She coughed softly, shaking her head at herself, but after the second sip, the warmth began to spread, dulling the edges of her nerves. She glanced back through the glass doors, watching Brandon move around the store. He rang up customers with calm efficiency, even flashing a small grin at the drunken duo when one knocked over a display of chips.
Lena shifted on the bench, her legs bouncing restlessly. Her fingers tightened on the neck of the bottle as her mind wandered back to Nicole, back to the phone call, back to the hole it had left in her chest. She tipped the champagne to her lips again, muttering under her breath, “Happy fucking birthday.”
The door jingled as Brandon stepped out, zipping up his jacket against the misty air. He looked down at her, hands in his pockets, his grin easy and familiar. “Hey,” he said. “Still waiting on me?”
“Yeah,” Lena replied, standing and wiping her damp hands on her jeans. She held up the bottle. “Didn’t want to drink alone.”
Brandon chuckled, glancing at the bottle as he gestured toward the street. “Good choice. Come on—I know a place where we can catch up.”
They fell into step together, the streets quieter now but still alive with the occasional whoop of celebration or the murmur of groups heading home. Lena walked close enough to feel the brush of Brandon’s jacket as they passed under flickering streetlights.
“So,” Brandon said after a moment, glancing over at her. “You gonna tell me why you were drinking champagne on a bench by yourself, or is that your New Year’s tradition?”
Lena laughed softly, the sound bitter. “Nicole bailed on me,” she admitted. “We were supposed to go to this show together, but she stayed with her boyfriend instead. She’s engaged now.”
Brandon whistled low. “Damn. You okay?”
Lena shrugged. “I mean... it’s not like I didn’t see it coming. She’s been pulling away for a while. I guess I just thought—hoped—she’d still show up for me, you know? I feel like... I don’t know, like I’m being left behind.”
Brandon nodded slowly. “That’s a shitty feeling. But it’s not about you, you know. She’s just figuring out her own thing.”
“Yeah,” Lena said, but the word felt hollow.
As they walked, the noise of the city began to fade, the sounds of revelry giving way to the soft patter of rain against the pavement. They entered Eastside Park, the glow of distant streetlamps reflecting off the rain-slick ground.
Lena slowed, glancing around. “I used to come here with Nicole and some friends,” she said, her voice soft. “We’d sit over there—by that tree—and talk about what we were gonna do when we got older. Big plans, you know? Careers, travel, all that stuff.”
Brandon followed her gaze, nodding. “Yeah, I get that. Plans change, though. Doesn’t mean they’re gone. You’re still figuring it out. So am I.”
She looked at him, her brow furrowing. “You seem like you’ve got it together.”
Brandon barked a laugh. “Not even close. I had to rebuild after everything fell apart, but... it taught me a lot. Mostly that you can’t wait for other people to fix you. You just have to start somewhere and see where it takes you.”
