AllFreeNovel
Share Us
@WWRCD: Can we not make “ass-wiper” a thing? We don’t know if Donnelly is *bad* or not, and it’s just mean. #StilltheAssKicker
@dragons_breakfast15: he’s an ass-wiper.
@CapAndWidowBesties: aren’t there grainy pics of Farrow, Oscar, and Donnelly eating at Lucky’s Diner in the middle of the night? They’re all still friends if that’s real.
@XanderOnlyXander: 3 points. 1…we don’t know how long he sat in jail for. 2…there are rumors all the charges were dropped with no evidence against him. 3…if he really was involved, there is no way Farrow & Oscar would associate with him.
@MarrowIsLife: agreed. Farrow is #TeamHale. He wouldn’t be with someone who kidnapped Luna or hurt Lily.
@not_ur_beauty_queen: I can’t believe there are ppl here who actually think Donnelly is innocent. WTF
@kitsulletti134: it’s not that simple. We need to trust what the families are telling us.
@moomoopants242: oh look, the one kitsulletti stan. Go suck two dicks. Deleted by mod-bot for breaking forum rules.
@WACorDIE: Dude, he’s related to ALL the guys who assaulted Lily. Red flag central.
@ILikeBigMorettis: Maybe he had the address to where Luna was being held?
@Coballoway_Child: BETTER QUESTION! Why wouldn’t the families fire him??? Connor is smarter than this. Something’s up, ya’ll.
@wut_up9: He’s WITH Beckett. I’m telling you all. He’s protected bc he’s NEVER been a real bodyguard. He’s in a fucking relationship like the rest of SFO.
@rise-of-the-seasons: Looks like they aren’t gonna get rid of him after all. If he survived this w/o getting axed, he’s not going anywhere.
@AvengeMe17: Fuck Paul Donnelly.
LUNA HALE’S JOURNAL
Eliot Alice Cobalt
Where does he live now?
Are we still friends? Dumb
How’s his job going at the theatre? (He signed a 2 yr contract still in high school. Did he still go?)
Is he single??
Tom Carraway Cobalt
Does he live with Eliot?
How’s the band doing?
Is he dating anyone??
Does he know about my fish too?
33
LUNA HALE
From the guidance of my neuro-doctors, I’m now the owner of a memory journal. It’s been four days since I woke up with amnesia, and they said it might help temper my frustrations. But with the sloppily written pages set before me, my brows have yet to unfurrow. “This is dumb. I have too many questions, and it’s hard to think of any other pertinent question than what have you been up to for the past three years,” I say in distress.
Donnelly ditches the wiped-down food counter of Superheroes & Scones, just to approach me at a red vinyl booth.
My mom’s comic book coffee shop hybrid has been “closed until further notice” since the accident. A move my dad made when reporters and paparazzi started appearing and harassing staff for more info about the famous Lily Calloway.
I’ve talked to her on the phone. Just short convos so far.
“How are you doing?” I asked.
“Great, really great.” She sounded hopeful. “I should be out of here soon. The food’s not so bad, and your dad has brought me cinnamon rolls every morning. I have a cinna-belly now.”
I wanted to laugh, but the phone calls just made me miss her more. I swallowed the words, I wish I could see you.
“How are you holding up, Luna?” she always asked.
“Better than yesterday.” It’s the main reply, because each day does feel a teensy bit better. More questions are answered; more of the puzzle is filled. “I love you to planet Thebula and back again.”
“I love you so, so much.” She sounded teary at the end of the last call, and I think her prolonged stay at the hospital has been just as hard on her.
The media’s need for details doesn’t help.
She’s doing well at Philly General and not critical. She would appreciate if everyone would respect her privacy at this time. That statement was not juicy enough for the press, so they’re waiting in the wings for fleshier meat, but while the store is closed, I’m using it as my base camp. The penthouse hasn’t jogged any memories, and it’s been nice to venture out into a new environment.
Donnelly leans a hip against the booth, and he clutches on to a half-wrapped breakfast bagel. As he careens over my shoulder and peers at my journal on the table, I cage a fluttering breath. Absorbing the fact that Original Luna kinda dated him is like sucking on helium (even if we technically aren’t dating), and I feel floaty around him.
So much about Donnelly compels me towards his bright energy field and pushes me to get to know him more. No amount of time spent with him feels like enough. I wonder if Original Luna experienced that too.
I’m still holding in air. Like if I breathe too hard, I’ll blow away this new reality into a puff of smoke. And I’m hanging on to this piece of my life with a death-grip.
I need him.
Maybe, too, I’ve been growing to want him. Crave him. Desire him.
“Nah, this isn’t dumb,” Donnelly says, then takes a giant bite of the bagel sandwich. “You’re asking all the right questions.”
