Celine had settled. Life was finally quiet, she was finally quiet. Everyone around her could see it. Her new boyfriend was respectful and polite. They never, ever fought. He had a regular job, he was kind to everyone around him. The type of guy that would hold hands with an old woman so she could cross the street safely. But Celine wasn’t happy. She wasn’t even beginning to feel happy. She hadn’t felt happy in a long time. Yeah, the relationship was fine, but he was *so* boring. The only dates they went out on were for dinner at some fancy restaurant, the only flowers she got were roses, and he drove *under* the speed limit. But whatever, Celine figured, why risk the sanctity of this normal life. That was until the dreams started up. Some kind of twisted sign. At first it was just his face- her ex boyfriend, George Russell. Then, it was almost as if they were flashbacks. Dancing in the rain at midnight, wrestling one another down onto the pillow covered floor of the living room, laughing until their sides hurt and they felt like they’d never breathe normally again. Sure, they fought. They fought like hell. But that was the last time Celine felt alive. The dreams only got worse and worse until Celine couldn’t sleep. That was when she finally did it. She was out on the porch one night alone. The sun would just be rising on race day in Spa, she knew George would be awake. So she called him, the heart still next to his name in the contact that’d been long abandoned in her phone. George answered on the first ring. “Celine?”