29/3/2040.
Shel's diner was just a few blocks away from where Savannah Jones' long time friend, Joshua, waited for her. They were to meet up with the rest - Oliver, Jade, Hannah, Aaron, Wesley, Brian, Kelsey and Megan - at the beach, after ordering.
That summer afternoon, she was thankful that the crowd was light - although it was always light - in the grocery store. She was anxiously waiting for the crowd to thin out further.
When it was, she hurriedly walked in and grabbed a newspaper from the stack, her eyes scanning over the main headline.
As she expected, her name wasn't there. There was no mention of her new song or her and her friend, Joshua's, growing relationship.
Instead it read: Shocking News Revealed: Famous Scientist Martin Hathaway Confesses To Have Been The One That Created The Deadly Creature's Called Gergons Before Killing Himself!
There was no picture.
She sighed, before dropping it on the tilling counter, intending to buy it.
Good old Press.
She nearly said the words but she managed to not let it make it past her lips. Instead she opted for rolling her eyes openly without care.
The woman behind the counter seemed to notice her expression because she did an overdramatic shake of her head and spoke.
"Another day, another bribe and another lie."
Savannah chuckled, before she paid for the paper and walked out with a miniscule grin on her lips.
What the woman had said was true. From what the internet had let on throughout the weeks of the rivalry with newspaper journalists, Martin Hathaway couldn't have given away that information; let alone his age. She could guess with almost, almost certainty which of the two actions he'd do.
Kill himself if cornered, yes, but the other? A definite no.
There were two options: Either Hiro Holmes had killed Martin. Most probably in a way that would not be suitable as a suicide cover up, before exposing the news; or Martin was abducted by Hiro.
No matter which was correct, there was still one blatantly glaring fact that wouldn't change.
Hathaway's lab had bribed the press to keep silent about either the fall of Martin.
And Hiro Holmes must have exposed the news - after the bribe - to the press.
The same press that endeavored to ruin her life for the their pastime.
They were her sworn enemies.
She'd never forgive them. Rather, she couldn't, after what they did to her.
The memories came rushing back but she shoved it back into its dingy and neglected corner.
It wasn't a day to cry, they were going to celebrate. She had to be strong for Joshua.
But no matter how many times she tried to push it further from the forefront of her mind, it still persistently returned. Instead of fighting it, she now chose to fight the the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes.
All the days she would cry alone curled up on her unmade bed in her room. The windows were shut, the door was locked, nothing could enter or leave unless she permitted it to.
And when she did come out of the prison she had made, she would lash out at Joshua, blame him for what was happening because she had no one else to blame.
No family to hold her in her time of need. They were dead.
Her dad had died in a car accident when she was fourteen.
It was her parent's 17th anniversary, but because of work they couldn't plan it grandiosely, so they ended up going to Shel's diner with her.
They had taken their separate cars, and unluckily she had followed her mum's car. The diversion gave them time to get there without being noticed, but the paparazzi had figured it was best to follow the classic hummer their dad always drove.
He had been protecting them, recklessly overtaking, not letting the paparazzi figure out that they weren't in his car when a bus came speeding out of a street.
The collision was horrible, both vehicles careened towards the intersection and there was nothing she could do to stop it. She was on another street. Safe, while her dad was protecting her and her mother till the very end.
The impact had been so explosive it was surreal, like something from a violent action movie.
The Hummer spun off the ground in a cloud of dust, glass and shrap-metal, and Savannah had watched it sail across the street and wrap around a utility pole a hundred feet away on her phone when her mother and her had arrived and had been awaiting her father's arrival that never came.
Nothing had been the same after that.
Especially her mum.
The truth was that day, the paparazzi didn't murder just one person, they had murdered two.
Because it wasn't just her dad that had died in that accident, but her mum's soul had died with him too, and three months later she became an orphan.
Her hatred for the paparazzi started then.
Joshua's dad had taken her in and she had continued working towards her goal of becoming a music artist.
Just like her parents.
But the thing that was different, was they were also church goers; something she hadn't really considering being.
Sure, she believed in God and she talked to him now and then, but she never followed her parents to church.
She didn't want to see God as one mighty being watching them in a far away heaven, the way the pastors preached about him.
She wanted to see Him as a best friend that was right beside her.
That was also a problem solver.
And that worked for her, because every problem she had faced was always solved.
Since the day she knew Him, every problem she had faced had been fixed.
Now if only He'd solve her new problem sooner.
Her new problem..
The problem that only a mere six percent of the people on earth were facing.
The problem that a chestnut haired nineteen year old was fighting against alone.
The problems that are named Gergons.
_______
Something was wrong with Savannah, and Joshua had seen it immediately as she had walked through the door.
Now they were on their way to the beach and he relived their conversation when they were ordering.
She had smiled when she caught him staring and cocked her head to one side while she rested her chin on back of her two palms, the way a model would, before batting her eyelashes at him adorably.
"Aww Josh, I'm that pretty, to the point that you can't resist staring?"
He had chuckled, knowing she was acting, but decided to play along.
He had turned her to face him, and looked in her eyes.
"Yeah, I guess you could say that, but also you've only said five sentences since you walked in, which is unlike you."
She had smiled then punched his arm with more force than was necessary.
"I'm just thinking, idiot," she grouched.
"About?"
"How you look prettier than usual," she shrugged nonchalantly, smiling cheekily.
He had swallowed a snort but couldn't help to have rolled his eyes.
Another punch.
"I'm being honest right now," she whined.
"First of all, ow! Second of all, I never said you were lying, I'm actually quite flattered," he confessed.
"Oh, spare me your sarcasm, I know you're lying," she pouted.
"Really? Darn, and here I'd thought I was a smooth talker," he joked, before becoming serious. "Well, since the cat's out, let's be honest with each other. I also know you're lying right now. So, can you please tell me what you're actually thinking about?"
"It's not really important, it's just my parents and how this is the place they were going to when all went to shit and all."
She hadn't been lying, but hadn't said the full truth either, he could tell there was something left.
Something he knew very well too. Something he had figured out when he saw the newspaper she had bought.
Something that he could never, and would never understand.
Because everytime he turned off the light he didn't hear the growls like she did.
Didn't fight for his life on one particular night like she did.
Didn't see shadows moving around like she did and didn't almost die like she had.
But the only thing he could do was wish they had swapped places on the eighteenth of February 2035.
The day of the accident.
The day were everything changed for them.
They had both been fourteen, and he remembered telling her how lucky she was to be able to go to Shel's diner.
Lucky indeed.
When he heard the news, he couldn't accept it, he ran to her house five blocks away without stopping, and hugged her immediately as she had opened the door.
He couldn't recall how long they had stayed like that, arms wrapped around each other, quiet sobs exploding from within.
When they were done, both of their poloshirts were soaked with each other's tears.
"He's in heaven now, right?"
She had asked, and his heart broke, he didn't really share her faith but he knew if there was actually a heaven; her father would definitely be there.
"Yes, he is."
After that day the two had become closer, and he had replaced her father protecting her with all he had.
But then her mother died and everything else changed.
He remembered running to her while the paramedics loaded her mum into the ambulance.
They had hugged, and when he drew back he could the fresh tears in her eyes once more. There was a violent twist in his gut as his heart hurt for her.
"They...They said she's lost a lot of blood... and might not ... might not make-"
He had silenced her with another hug, and reassured her.
Later they went to the hospital with his dad.
He remembered the way his heart broke when the doctor reported the news.
He remembered denying it, and demanding to see her mum.
He remembered being calmed by his dad and the doctor.
But one thing he couldn't forget was how quiet Savannah was the whole time.
He had finally looked at her on the way to their house.
Her eyes were dry...
There was nothing but rage in them, not even sorrow.
She stared at the drivers seat like she wanted to bore her eyes through it, but he knew it wasn't the seat she wanted to kill.
It was the press.
After that day they grew distant, even though they lived together. When he found out she was still working towards being a music artist despite the death of her parents, he tried to convince her to stop but she shut him up with one sentence alone.
"Music is my talent and I'm not going ditch it because my parents died because of it," she said.
They argued about it three more times but she answered with the same thing every time. Eventually, he decided to give up.
Two years later, she sang her very first song in a studio.
A year after that, she'd found God, and her happiness again, and the rest was history for him.
They both had their share of problems, but hers were always solved quicker and easier.
"It's all God's doing."
She always said, and he didn't doubt her, but he didn't want to know her God yet.
Because even if he was real, he hadn't solved her current problem.
A problem that probably only a nineteen year old who was all over Chelsymore's newspaper could solve.
Now it was only a matter of finding him; and finding him is what they'll do.