Fragile Bridges & Faint Beginnings
Caitlyn and Vi’s friendship didn’t spring to life fully formed - it grew in fits and starts, like a stubborn seedling pushing through rocky soil. Vi remained guarded, her defences high and impenetrable. Even as Caitlyn made small efforts to close the gap between them, Vi’s responses were clipped and cautious. She was polite enough but kept her answers vague, deflecting questions with a shrug or a snarky comment. It was clear she wasn’t used to letting people in, and Caitlyn could feel the invisible wall Vi had built around herself. Class was the only time they would talk – Vi snuck out almost instantly every lesson astounding Caitlyn with her quick pace, she seemed to be everywhere and nowhere at once.
At school, the whispers about Caitlyn grew louder. The cruel headliner nickname - "Gaytlyn Kirraman" - still floated through the hallways, muttered behind hands or smirked openly in her direction. Caitlyn ignored it as best she could, but the isolation stung. At home, in the Kiramman Estate, she was isolated by the walls and the kitchen staff, whom she barely interacted with. Vi seemed to be the only person in the whole universe who was oblivious to Caitlyn’s status – she selfishly indulged in the feeling of anonymity with her.
Vi, for her part, noticed the glances Caitlyn avoided and the way she braced herself whenever she entered a room. She saw it because she’d lived it, too—the way people’s judgment could sink claws into you and refuse to let go. Despite her reluctance, Vi found herself watching Caitlyn more closely. She didn’t understand why Caitlyn kept trying, why she kept showing up with small smiles and gentle questions. For Vi, the effort was both baffling and oddly comforting. It had been so long since anyone had wanted to know her for more than a passing glance, so long since anyone cared to look beyond her silence.
One afternoon, Caitlyn finally broke through a tiny crack in Vi’s armour. They were sitting in class together - Caitlyn facing Vi instead of the board, Vi pretending not to notice - when Caitlyn, exasperated by another cryptic answer, blurted out, “You know, you’re really good at dodging questions. You could teach a masterclass.”
Vi paused halfway through writing down another equation, looking at Caitlyn with an expression that was part annoyance, part amusement. “Yeah? Well, maybe you could teach one about being nosy,” she shot back, a slight smirk tugging at her lips.
Caitlyn grinned, sensing the tiniest victory. “Fair enough. But seriously, you’ve gotta give me something here. Even if it’s just, like, your favourite colour.”
Vi rolled her eyes but relented after a moment. “Pink,” she muttered.
Caitlyn raised an eyebrow, glancing at Vi’s hair. “Shocker.”
Vi snorted, the sound so unexpected it startled them both. That was the moment when things shifted when the tentative beginnings of trust started to form.
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Later that afternoon, after school, Vi found herself sitting in the dimly lit kitchen of her home. Vander, her adoptive uncle-turned-dad, was leaning against the counter with his usual quiet strength, a mug of coffee in his hands. The kitchen was quiet save for the low hum of the refrigerator and the faint creak of the house settling.
Vi had been wrestling with thoughts all evening - about Caitlyn, about Powder, about the weight she carried every single day. For some reason, sitting there with Vander felt safe enough to let some of it spill out.
“I’ve been thinking,” Vi said finally, her voice low and hesitant. She avoided Vander’s gaze, staring down at her chipped mug instead.
Vander raised an eyebrow but didn’t press, letting her find her words.
“About… therapy. Powder keeps bringing it up.” Vi hesitated, her fingers tracing the edge of the table. “I’ve always told her no, but… I dunno. Maybe she’s right. Maybe I should… I should try it.” It came out very uncertain like she didn’t know if she was allowed to admit it to herself.
Vander set his mug down and crossed his arms, his expression softening. “You’ve been through a lot, kid. Therapy’s not a sign of weakness if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Vi huffed a laugh, but there was no humour in it. “Yeah, but what if it doesn’t help? What if it’s just… talking about stuff I already know is messed up, and nothing changes? What if it only makes things worse? What if I realise I am the issue? What if-”
“It’s not about fixing everything all at once,” Vander said gently cutting through his daughter’s rising panic. “It’s about giving yourself a chance. A chance to feel a little lighter, to figure out how to carry what you’ve been through without letting it crush you.” He paused, leaning forward slightly. “And it’s not just for you, Vi. It’s for Powder, too. She misses you, y’know. Wants her sister back.”
The words hit harder than Vi expected, and for a moment, she couldn’t speak. She thought of Powder’s pleading eyes, of the way her little sister still reached for her even after Vi had pushed her away so many times.
“Yeah,” Vi said finally, her voice thick with emotion. “I miss her too.”
Vander placed a steady hand on her shoulder. “You don’t have to do it alone. Therapy is a tool, not a magic fix, but it can help. And if it doesn’t work right away, you try something else. The important thing is that you’re trying.”
Vi nodded, not trusting herself to say more. The idea still scared her, but for the first time, it didn’t feel impossible. Maybe, just maybe, she could find a way to move forward. Not just for herself, but for Powder - and, though she wouldn’t admit it yet, for Caitlyn too.
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Caitlyn Kiramman had spent much of her life under a microscope. Back in England, she was rarely just “Caitlyn.” She was Princess Caitlyn Anastasia Evelyne Kiramman, the youngest member of the royal family, 5thin line to the throne after her grandmother Queen Anastasia, her three aunties Isolde, Alexandra, and Victoria, and her mother Cassandra, and tabloid fodder for nearly every newspaper in the country. Her family’s titles and traditions loomed over her like a gilded cage, dictating how she should speak, act, and even think. When her life semi-imploded in London, the move to Arizona wasn’t just an escape plan – she began to see it as an opportunity to redefine herself.
Vi didn’t know who Caitlyn was - not the full truth, anyway. She knew Caitlyn as “the British new girl,” not as a royal. Caitlyn had deliberately kept it that way. The thought of Vi treating her differently, of seeing her through the lens of her family’s wealth and power, filled her with dread. For once, she wanted to be seen for herself, not as an extension of her family’s influence or scandals.
And so, Caitlyn kept quiet. She deflected when Vi asked about her life in England, mentioning only vague details about school and “family expectations.” Every time the topic threatened to veer toward her title, she steered the conversation away with a joke or a question about Vi instead. Vi didn’t press, and Caitlyn was grateful for it, though she couldn’t shake the guilt of hiding such a big part of her life.
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The day of Vi’s first therapy appointment felt like the longest of her life. She hadn’t told anyone except Vander who drove her the whole two hours, and Powder, who had practically begged her to go. As she sat in the small, cozy office, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, Vi felt exposed in a way she hadn’t anticipated.
The therapist, a kind woman named Olivia, started with the basics - questions about Vi’s family, her interests, and why she’d decided to come to therapy. Vi’s responses were curt at first, but Olivia was patient, letting the silences stretch without pressure.
Eventually, Vi opened up, bit by bit, about her grief, her guilt, and the tangled mess of emotions she carried. She talked about her late girlfriend in halting sentences, how her death had left a hole that nothing could fill. Olivia didn’t judge or rush her; she simply listened, gently guiding Vi when she stumbled over her words.
By the end of the session, Vi felt drained but lighter, like she had finally let some of the weight off her chest. She didn’t have answers yet, but for the first time, she thought maybe there was a way forward.
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That night, Powder convinced Vi to have a sleepover in her room - a rare attempt to recreate a sense of normalcy between them. Powder’s room was as chaotic and vibrant as always, filled with handmade trinkets, bright posters, and scraps of half-finished art projects scattered on every available surface. Vi sat cross-legged on the bed while Powder flopped onto her stomach, chin propped on her hands.
“So,” Powder began, her tone mischievous, “since we’re catching up… Ekko and I are kind of a thing now.”
Vi blinked, caught off guard. “Wait-Ekko? Our Ekko?”
Powder grinned sheepishly. “Yeah. It just sort of… happened. He’s sweet, y’know? And he gets me.”
Vi’s chest tightened, a mix of emotions swirling. She was happy for Powder but also hurt. She hadn’t even noticed the change, too wrapped up in her own world to see what was happening with her little sister. “That’s… good,” she said finally, though her voice was tinged with regret. “I’m glad you have him.”
Powder studied her for a moment, then shifted topics. “Oh, and Claggor’s talking to someone too. Some girl from his art class. He hasn’t told me much, but I think he really likes her.”
Vi laughed softly, shaking her head. “Claggor? Dating? Never thought I’d see the day.”
Powder smirked but then gave Vi a pointed look. “What about you? Anyone on your radar?”
Vi stiffened, her laughter fading. The question hit too close to home, and she quickly shook her head. “No,” she said, her tone flat. “Not really.”
Powder didn’t pick up on the shift and pressed on. “Come on, Vi. There’s gotta be someone. I can see it in your face these days, you’re more yourself again – surely there’s someon-“
“Drop it, Powder,” Vi’s jaw clenched, and she looked away.
Powder’s expression faltered, realization dawning too late. “Oh. I didn’t mean-”
“It’s fine,” Vi interrupted, her voice tight. “Just… don’t, okay?”
The room fell silent for a moment, the playful atmosphere replaced by something heavier. Powder reached out hesitantly, her hand brushing against Vi’s. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to push.”
Vi sighed, her shoulders slumping. “I know. It’s just… complicated.”
They didn’t speak much after that, but the tension eased as the night went on. Powder eventually dozed off, curled up next to Vi like she used to when they were kids. Vi stayed awake a little longer, staring at the ceiling and thinking about everything she’d lost - and everything she might still have to gain. For the first time in a long while, Vi felt the ache of lost time, of all the moments she could never get back. But as she looked down at Powder, sleeping peacefully beside her, she also felt the faintest spark of hope. Maybe it wasn’t too late to start noticing again. To start being present.
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The proposition was simple enough. Caitlyn had leaned over in class that morning, brushing a stray strand of dark hair behind her ear, and asked casually - maybe too casually - if Vi wanted to have lunch together. They’d been talking in class for a couple of months now, trading quips about the absurdity of their professor’s lectures and sharing the occasional laugh. It had become… easy. Comfortable.
Vi didn’t hesitate to smirk and agree, though she didn’t bother to mention that her lunch plans didn’t involve the cafeteria.
Now, as Caitlyn trailed behind her, Vi led the way toward the school’s back fence, her pink hair catching the sunlight and standing out vividly against the muted tones of the worn-out buildings. Caitlyn tried to keep up, her steps quick but uneven, her bag bouncing awkwardly on her shoulder.
“So, is this… normal?” Caitlyn asked, her voice light but tinged with curiosity. “Skipping off campus for lunch, I mean? Seems rather… rebellious.”
Vi glanced over her shoulder, smirking. “It’s not skipping if you’re allowed to leave, Seniors get the privilege. You’d know that if you weren’t so stubborn, eating in the toilets,” rolling her eyes as she pushed through another gate.
Caitlyn narrowed her eyes but didn’t let up. “Yes, but do all seniors sneak through back fences to - where are we even going? This feels suspiciously like the opening scene of a true-crime documentary.”
Vi snorted, shaking her head. “Relax, no one’s getting murdered. Unless you count my patience.”
Caitlyn ignored the jab, though her lips twitched with a small smile. “For the record, I have no desire to end up on Dateline. Or worse, some tacky American reenactment show.”
Vi stopped in her tracks, turning to face Caitlyn fully, her smirk widening. “Wow. You’re really overthinking this, huh?”
“I’m just saying,” Caitlyn huffed, trying to match Vi’s calm demeanour, “if this gets me into trouble, I’ll be forced to haunt you. Permanently.”
Vi’s eyes gleamed with amusement. “Good to know you’re already planning our future together.”
Caitlyn flushed, her mouth opening and closing for a moment before she stammered, “That’s not - don’t twist my words!”
Vi chuckled, turning back toward the fence and motioning for Caitlyn to follow. “Relax, I won’t get you into trouble. Besides, it’s not like we’re robbing a bank. Just lunch.”
Caitlyn trailed behind, muttering under her breath, “Lunch that involves trespassing, apparently.”
They reached the fence, and Vi slipped through a gap in the chain-link with practised ease. Caitlyn, meanwhile, hesitated, peering at the narrow opening. “Oh, lovely,” she murmured. “A gap barely big enough to squeeze through. How charming.”
Vi looked back, raising an eyebrow. “Need me to roll out a red carpet?”
Caitlyn glared at her but began manoeuvring through the fence, her bag snagging briefly. “Honestly, Vi, you’re the very definition of chaos,” she muttered, pulling herself free.
“you know it,” Vi shot back without missing a beat, already walking ahead.
Caitlyn sighed dramatically but quickened her pace to catch up, her voice trailing after Vi. “You know, this whole thing better be worth it. I could’ve had lunch in the cafeteria like a normal person.”
“Normal’s overrated,” Vi called over her shoulder, grinning. “Trust me, you’ll thank me later.”
“Somehow, I doubt that,” Caitlyn replied, though her tone had softened, her earlier exasperation replaced with reluctant curiosity.
Vi threw a glance over her shoulder, her smirk widening as she shoved her hands into the pockets of her jacket. “Relax, princess. I won’t get you into trouble.”
Caitlyn stumbled slightly, startled by the nickname, and quickened her pace to catch up. “Princess?” she repeated, incredulous.
Vi shrugged, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Yeah, you know, ‘cause you’re British. Fancy accent and all that. Seemed fitting.”
Caitlyn blinked, her mind racing. For a second, she thought Vi had found out - had pieced together who she really was. But Vi’s tone was casual, unassuming. She didn’t know. It was just a nickname. A harmless one.
Caitlyn’s shoulders relaxed as she gave a soft laugh. “Right. British princess. Got it.”
Vi grinned, clearly pleased with herself. “Now, come on. We’re almost there.”
Caitlyn followed, her initial panic giving way to curiosity as Vi led her through a narrow gap in the back fence. The alley beyond was quiet, shaded by tall trees that rustled gently in the wind. Caitlyn couldn’t help but marvel at how Vi seemed so sure of herself, so at ease in her movements.
“This is… where exactly?” Caitlyn asked, glancing around.
“I’ve told you before,” Vi replied, nodding toward a modest house tucked behind the trees. “I live right behind the school. Seniors are allowed to leave campus for lunch. Perks of being almost done with this place.”
Caitlyn’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water as she processed the idea. “Right,” she said finally, though she still looked slightly sceptical. “I suppose that makes sense.”
Her scepticism turned to bewilderment, however, when Vi suddenly strode up to the side of the house and grabbed hold of the trellis.
“What on earth are you doing?” Caitlyn asked, her voice a mix of alarm and confusion.
“Scaling the wall,” Vi replied matter-of-factly, testing the trellis for stability. “What does it look like?”
Caitlyn stared up at Vi, who was perched casually on the edge of the attic window like it was the most natural thing in the world. She was already halfway through muttering another string of Britishisms under her breath when Vi glanced down, grinning.
“You coming, princess, or are you just gonna stand there looking scandalized?”
“I—what?” Caitlyn sputtered, her voice climbing an octave. “You want me to scale a wall? You do realise doors exist, don’t you?”
Vi smirked, resting her chin on her palm. “Yeah, but Vander’s home. He doesn’t exactly know I leave campus for lunch.”
Caitlyn froze, her stomach flipping. “And you’re just… sneaking in? Isn’t that going to—oh, I don’t know—get you into trouble?”
“Not if you climb up here and keep quiet,” Vi teased, her tone light but firm. “C’mon, it’s not that hard. Just grab the trellis and don’t overthink it.”
Caitlyn gaped at her, utterly bewildered. “This is absurd! I’m not built for—oh, for heaven’s sake.” She glanced back toward the alley as if checking for some miraculous alternative, but the coast was clear. With a sigh of exasperation, she muttered, “Fine. Fine. But if I die, this is on you.”
Vi chuckled, clearly enjoying herself. “Relax, princess. You’ll be fine. I’ll even catch you if you fall.”
“That’s hardly reassuring!” Caitlyn hissed as she tentatively grabbed the trellis. It wobbled slightly, making her heart lurch, but she tightened her grip and began to climb.
“Just keep going,” Vi called down, leaning further out the window to watch. “You’re doing great. Very regal.”
Caitlyn shot her a glare but kept climbing, muttering under her breath about “bloody Americans” and “utter nonsense.” By the time she reached the attic window, her arms were burning, and her face was flushed.
Vi reached out a hand to help her the last few inches, smirking as Caitlyn practically tumbled inside.
“There. That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Vi asked, sitting cross-legged on the floor as Caitlyn collapsed beside her, trying to catch her breath.
“I have never done something so ridiculous in my entire life,” Caitlyn huffed, brushing dust off her blazer.
Vi grinned, leaning back on her hands. “Welcome to my world.”
Caitlyn shook her head but couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped her. There was something exhilarating about it, despite the absurdity -and the fact that she’d just risked life and limb to avoid a confrontation with Vi’s guardian.
“Next time,” Caitlyn said, fixing Vi with a mock stern look, “we’re using the door.”
Vi chuckled, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Glad to know you’re thinking about next time, princess”
Caitlyn didn’t retort this time, though her heart skipped slightly at the nickname. It was hard to stay annoyed when Vi’s smirk softened into something more genuine, her eyes crinkling at the corners.
For a moment, Caitlyn let herself relax, looking around at the deeply cluttered room. The collection of vinyl records hung haphazardly on her wall that curved up to the roof’s peak, the vintage vinyl player sat next to her pile of dirty laundry. The unkempt bed with the sheets just pulled over but the pillows - definitely not touched from the previous night’s slumber and the small adjoining room looked to be a small ensuite from the small opening.
The faint smell of old vinyl and wood filled the air, and as the adrenaline from the climb faded, she realised she didn’t mind the little chaos of Vi’s world so much. It felt… real. And for once, she didn’t feel like she had to pretend to be anything other than herself.