Chapter 1Unfamous but Cherished

I’m a travel vlogger who never really made it big, but I had two people who spoiled me rotten.

My number one fan was my boyfriend, Ethan. My number two was my best friend, Ava.

They were constantly trying to one-up each other in my live streams, showering me with gifts in a bitter rivalry to be number one in my heart. It was a constant headache.

But when a flight mishap sent me home earlier than expected, I walked in on these two, who were supposed to be like oil and water, locked in a deep, desperate kiss.

Ava’s voice, breathless, pulled away. “I should go. Cathy will be back soon.”

Ethan buried his face in the crook of her neck, his voice muffled. “God, I wish her flight was delayed.”

So, I was the obstacle. The inconvenience in their love story.

But that’s okay. I won’t be a problem for them much longer.

In my third year of vlogging, I had traveled across most of the country, documenting everything with my camera. I edited it all together into a final highlight reel of my life.

The title of the first video was: [When you watch this, I’ll likely already be dead.]

The title of the last was: [Ethan, Ava, if you can, I hope you forget me.]

* * *

It seems like when your luck runs out, it really runs out.

A sudden downpour started just as I was heading home. My first instinct was to call Ethan and ask for a ride, but then I hesitated and put my phone away. The rain was too heavy; I didn’t want him driving in this.

Now, standing outside my own front door, I could feel cold raindrops tracing paths down my hair and into the collar of my shirt. I was soaked through, but my first thought was a strange sort of relief:

At least I didn’t interrupt them.

I slipped around to the fire escape and waited, my drenched clothes clinging to my skin like a second, colder layer. Normally, I would have rushed inside, desperate for a hot shower. But now, I just stared blankly at my feet, my mind a complete void.

Finally, I heard the front door open and close. I took a deep breath, walked back around, and tried to enter the code as if nothing had happened. My hands were shaking, probably from the cold, and I kept messing up the numbers.

Just as the automated voice announced, “Please wait one minute before trying again,” the door swung open.

Ethan poked his head out, a smile still lingering on his face. “Forget something?”

His smile vanished the second he saw me. “Cathy? Isn’t your flight supposed to be at three? Why are you back so early? I was just about to leave to pick you up.”

The watch on his wrist read 3:15. He rubbed his face awkwardly. “Look at me, my head’s like a sieve. Something came up with work, and I completely lost track of time.”

“It’s okay,” I said softly. “Work is more important.”

“Can I come in? It’s raining, and I’m freezing.”

Only then did he seem to relax his guard, opening the door wider to let me in. I had barely set down my suitcase when his voice, sharp with suspicion, cut through the air.

“Cathy, why are you back so much earlier this time? Your flights are usually delayed.”

I heard the unspoken question in his voice. What did you see?

I found myself thinking the same thing he was: I wish it had been delayed.

Why, in the last three months of my life, did I have to walk in on this?

My plane had flown straight into a thunderstorm. From my window seat, all I could see were thick, black clouds split by blinding flashes of lightning. The aircraft lurched and shuddered in the violent turbulence, tossing me around in my seat. The situation felt dire; the cabin was filled with the sound of quiet sobbing. But I just hugged my bag tighter.

I’d cried like that three years ago, uncontrollably, when the doctor first told me I had stomach cancer. But after living under the shadow of death for so long, I found a strange sense of calm in the chaos.

The man next to me shouted over the roar, “Kid, grab the seatbelt, not your bag! What’s in there, an urn?!”

I ignored him.

It wasn’t an urn. It was the last three years of my life. My final reel.

At that moment, only one thought crossed my mind: Thank God I always carry my camera. If the plane goes down, at least Ethan and Ava can hear my last words.

Snapping back to the present, I offered a simple explanation. “The weather was bad. The pilot just flew faster to get through it.”

Ethan finally seemed to notice I was dripping water all over the floor. He sprang into action, kneeling to take off my shoes, bustling around to get me a glass of hot water. As he came back from the bathroom with a clean towel, he saw my eyes linger on the disheveled sofa. He rushed over, dropping the towel without noticing.

“I took a nap here this afternoon,” he said, a little too quickly. “I’m a restless sleeper. Can’t believe I made such a mess.” He smoothed out the wrinkles on the cushions and picked up a hand-knit blanket to fold it.

“I think it’s a little dirty,” I interrupted him. “Let’s just toss it in the wash.”

“Good idea,” he said without a hint of argument, snatching the blanket and hurrying to the laundry room.

The truth was, the blanket was perfectly clean. I’d had him air it out just a couple of days ago. But the image of the two of them tangled together on it made my skin crawl.

I had knitted that blanket for Ava, but Ethan had thrown a fit and claimed it for himself.

“No way! I’m your boyfriend. The first blanket you ever knit has to be mine!”

Ava had been furious, ready to fight him for it. “Have you no shame, Ethan? Cathy made this for me!”

The sight of them, red-faced and tugging at the blanket like children, was embarrassing. I’d had to coax Ava into letting go, promising to knit her an even bigger, better one.

They say a triangle is the most stable shape, but not for us. Over the years, scenes like that had become common. With my boyfriend on one side and my best friend on the other, I was always stuck in the middle, playing peacemaker.

I just never imagined that while I was busy keeping the peace, they were finding their own kind of harmony behind my back.