Summary: Alternate Universe. Rinoa is a girl who, after a car accident years ago, is living with a huge scar on the left side of her face. She has managed to live a normal life with her dog, Angelo, despite the scar's grotesque appearance. One day at work, however, she meets an attractive and yet mysterious young man named Squall whose nonchalant attitude will challenge everything she has come to believe about herself, including the truth behind the acquiring of her scar.


Chapter 1 -The Girl with the Scar

Smoke engulfed her. Broken and bent up metal enclosed on her. In front of her, there was a constant crackling sound of something like firewood bathing in a steady blaze. The vibrations from the car's engine buzzed faintly beneath her.

"She's still breathing," a stranger's voice echoed in from her left. It was pitch black, or maybe her sight was temporarily lost. A sizzling sound came from all around. She felt something cold resting against the left side of her face, so cold that it burned her face. Somehow, her body protected her from feeling that pain as it was in reality. There was a strange odor in the air, the smell of burning flesh; although, once you smelled such a stench you could never forget it. "Hey, Miss, don't worry! An ambulance is on its way! Someone's coming to help!"

At those words, she collapsed. She assumed back then that it was only a nightmare, having no recollection of where she was at that moment anyway. It would have been better to dream of such a cryptic moment, for in the very next day she would find her life forever changed, forever scarred.

Five Years Later…

Every day was the same, a perfect routine. The alarm rang at six a.m. and initiated her day. She would wake up, greet her dog, get to the restroom, shower, brush her teeth, comb her hair, get dressed, get a quick breakfast and walk to the public library which was a few blocks down from her apartment building. She lived alone, aside from her companion, Angelo, who made it his duty of guarding the house when she was away. In her tiny one bedroom apartment, though, there wasn't much to guard. If you took a look into her flat, you would quickly notice the lack of mirrors inside. She made mirrors a rarity in her lifestyle. She could barely stand rubbing her own fingers over the left side of her face.

She never wanted to remember what happened or why it happened, but it would always be present there on her face no matter what she did to hide it. She had grown accustomed to living with it, living with the stares that people gave her when they saw her melted skin. She was deformed, obviously, but people just couldn't look away when they saw her face. No, they liked to linger.

The television blared with the local news: Another politician abroad spreading his lies. She had always wished to voice her opinion about certain topics, politics being one of them, but hadn't quite found the strength to speak her mind especially after the accident. Her self-esteem was shot to the core apparently and no matter what difficulties she overcame, everything eventually dissolved down to the center of her weakness.

Her family loved her and cared about her, wanted her to stay with them forever. She loved that they never looked at her as though something was wrong, but then sometimes they treated her as if she was disabled. It was just a scar, a very big scar, but it wasn't going to stop her from living. Despite what anyone might've thought about her, she continued school, graduated, and later got a job as a librarian. In those days, the scar seemed to shrink as long as her mind was focused on her current objectives. With a few helping hands from her family, she was able to move into her own apartment and eventually take care of herself. It would always be Angelo and her, and Angelo would never care what she looked like, scars or whatnot, he still loved her, and that was enough for Rinoa. As time went on however, she fell back into her shell and the scar dominated her face again, even Angelo's love wasn't enough to erase the permanent disfiguration.

By the time she had arrived at work, her façade was at full throttle.

"Rinoa, the cart's upstairs and it's filled with magazines and sci-fi books. If you could restock—"

"Sure," the girl answered with a light smile, "What about the "Newly Returned" box? You want me to bring those books back also?"

"If you could dear, it'd be nice to have a clean slate today," The older woman sighed while sitting at her desktop monitor. She was usually nice, but her exterior made her harder to approach. It's not until Rinoa speaks to her that other people realize she is actually approachable. It was probably her thick, square glasses, really black and seemingly glued to her face that scared them so it seemed. It was because of her glasses that Rinoa felt she should start wearing some just to keep people from noticing her burns right away. It worked, if only for a minute before their questions became distracted, lingering of them even forget what they want to ask once they noticed her scar. Needless to say, the glasses look only lasted for one day.

She was quite used to these reactions, and often found that the best way to get through a single work day was to keep busy with all the jobs none of the other librarians wanted to do, like restocking and reorganizing an entire section; anything that meant avoiding any interaction with guests anyway. It was easy to waste time when it came to all the little tasks, and because of her small task workings, she learned and knew the library's interior like the back of her hand, she could locate any book in a matter of seconds.

The girl had busied herself alphabetizing the science fiction books in her keep before placing them in their designated areas. It was somewhat a delightful waste of time. She stood at the first aisle to start the rest. Tables paved the walkway just steps from the aisles of books.

"Hodgell…" she muttered the author's last name while finding the blank space that it was to fill. When she looked forward between the spaces of the books, she saw a man seated alone with a book wide open. He flipped to the next page, reading intently and peacefully. His hair was dark brown, and a little spiky, and his skin seemed to have been tanned, probably from staying out in the sun, but it look smooth also. His eyes were direct and focused, and his eyebrows were sharp and heavy with anticipation. His lips were thin and pink and silently mouthing out words under his breath from the book in his grasp. From his attire, he seemed to be comfortable wearing a white t-shirt with a black jacket that hung from the back of his chair, but she couldn't see the rest of him since she was standing behind the book shelf and peeping at him from the other side though he could have just been wearing black work pants and boots.

At that moment she had to back away and laugh at herself for staring. Nothing was wrong with looking at an attractive male once in a while, she thought, as long as it wasn't for a long period of time. He was a nice looking guy, she admitted, but he was definitely out of her league. No one could ever get past that scar on her face, and it was better to not get her hopes up at all. Oftentimes she would pretend to not have spotted a hot guy, especially in while the company of others. In her mind the rule was: if she didn't notice him, he wouldn't notice her. It was better to not try at all than to get hurt hoping that someone, who obviously wasn't, was going to walk up to her and say, "Excuse me, Miss. Where are your magazines?"

"!" It was him! He had approached her from behind on the tiny aisle while she was deep in thought about-who cares? Here he was standing behind her now with a legitimate question. Think! Listen! React! Unfortunately she was frozen solid. Her body was faced to the cart she had been pulling behind her and it was now beside her. She was barricaded in with no way of escape. She had long since looked away from him as he sat at the table, placing her mind on better things, on more realistic things, and in that short time, he had left the table when he realized an employee was nearby. Rinoa! Answer him, now!

"Magazines?" she answered in a hoarse whisper, half on a whim, continuing to look forward. She was too frightened to move too quickly, but then who could have a full conversation without looking at the other person at least for a second.

"Yeah," he said, sounding more like he was agreeing with the thought on her mind than about the magazines.

"They're…right over there," She pointed across the room, glancing back at him quickly, vaguely. He saw the right side of her face, the normal side, the normal smile, and lingered for a second. "You see…on this floor, right over there?"

"Um," he cleared his throat, "Yeah, I see it. Thank you."

"You're welcome," she answered shyly, looking behind at him with a smile. Again, he saw only the right side of her face. He returned her smile with a genuine grin of his own. Realizing he had returned her smile, she paused this time and studied his face. He was really smiling at her, a guy like him smiling at a face like hers. She gasped and faced forward to the books on her cart. Come on Rinoa, he's just here to read books and he's just like everyone else you talk to on a regular basis! Stop being so nervous and for goodness sakes quit staring like a creep!

Without further ado, he backed out of the aisle and headed for the area that she had pointed out to him. Her heart was beating so fast, she thought she might pass out. Quickly, Rinoa abandoned her cart of books and dashed to the restroom, thankfully it was empty. She rested her back against the wall beside the door, wanting to know what she had looked like in that moment for him to smile back the way he did. Maybe he was being nice like so many of them pretend to be just for the sake of her job title and the fact that she was placed there for assistance. Maybe he was just being nice because she was nice enough to give him a not so clear direction of the magazine rack.

Why else would he linger and smile? There was no reason to stay in place with a disfigured person such as herself. After all, like so many nice looking men, once you saw them that one time, you never saw them again. He was just a passerby. She would most likely never see him again after today. The girl took a deep breath and pushed her head against the wall behind her. Maybe if she stayed inside the restroom a bit longer, he would disappear. 'Where are the magazines?' It was a simple and silly question. Everybody knows the magazines are never going to be kept near the books, and if the library is a two storied building like this one, it would always be on the second floor and out of sight which is usually where she was, ironically and coincidentally, easiest to find also.

The restroom door opened and a woman emerged bringing in a waft of wind as she entered and headed straight for the first stall. She must've had to urinate really badly. Rinoa's hair was knocked from its neat position being tucked behind her ear, and it fell over the left side of her face. As the woman started her restroom chore, Rinoa walked to the mirror and turned the water on. She always felt awkward relieving herself beside anyone else. She could never go with another person in the room unless there was some type of other noise occurring simultaneously. She wiggled the faucet on and pulled her hands through the cool water, then rubbed them together. Contact with the mirror was avoided at all costs.

When the strands of her hair fell across her left eye again, she was reminded that it had been knocked out of place and she looked up to fix it. The face in the mirror stuck out like a sore thumb. It was a hideous sight. The hunchback of Notre Dame probably felt better about his looks than she did about her own. The scar was horrible. Nobody could ever see past it even if they were forced to or tried. Even when she did try to ignore it, the attempt never persevered. It wasn't like a rash that could heal up and fade away in time. It never faded with time. It would never go away.

There was no miracle cream, nothing to make it fade or wither, or dry up and fall off. There was nothing she could do but accept it and live with it. Suddenly the girl groaned. Enough was enough. She had had enough of bashing herself for one day.

With the strands of her hair falling across her disfigured skin, an idea ran across her mind. Before she knew it, her fingers were sliding through her long slick locks of hair, combing it down over the left side of her face. The more she combed it over, the more it hid some of the scar, but in the end, she looked like a wild untamed animal. That wouldn't do, so she went back to work. This time, she made an even line where it hung over her face, but the rest of it look like it was purposely styled this way. She wore the hair band on her wrist in case she changed her mind about her new hairstyle later. The woman in the other stall finished and emerged from the personal chamber, and marched over to the faucets where Rinoa was standing. The girl immediately eyed the water faucet. She never liked making eye contact with anyone, but for some reason, it felt like the woman was staring at her. Of course she was staring.

Rinoa took a deep breath and looked up to find a smile on the woman's face, just a friendly smile from person to person, a smile similar to his. Great, that settled it. That meant that he was indeed being friendly, nothing more or less. At this, Rinoa decided to smile back.

"You have a very nice smile," the woman said and shook her hands off in the sink before reaching for a napkin from the dispenser to her left and began drying her hands.

"Oh…Th-thank you," Rinoa answered, smiling wider than normal and shyly.

"You're welcome, and have a good day."

"You too ma'am," the girl said, watching the woman through the mirror as she exited and then found her eyes travelling back to her own face. I have…a nice smile? I…guess I do, right?

There was a brighter smile reflecting from her and an even brighter glow emanating from her after that and once she returned to work. Rinoa took slow steps toward her cart. I have a nice smile. She kept telling herself, getting to the books and forgetting to read the author's names. Rin, focus, she had to tell herself, otherwise she would've forgotten her simple tasks altogether.

By the time she was done restocking those books, it was on to emptying the returned books box at the window. She headed downstairs on her way to the front desk where people usually dropped off borrowed books in a hurry. There she went around to the back of the desk and knelt down to retrieve the first box that needed emptying.

Her head was hidden when she heard the sound of man's voice whispering to her over the counter, "Hi there," he said politely.

Rinoa didn't answer right away, usually when people said things like 'hi,' they were talking to the person standing behind her or around her: they were never talking to her…usually. "Hello" He spoke again, leaning in on the desk as the realization hit home that he had meant to speak to her.

"I don't mean to disturb you, but I saw you from across the room, and thought that you look like a very interesting person to converse with," he smiled, showing all his pearly whites. "So, if you…"

She was cornered, where was she to run to, where was she to hide. She wished the returned box was on the other side, that way her back would've been toward him.

"If you're busy…" He said, but she didn't want him to leave so quickly. She lifted her head from underneath the desk and turned it to the side so that her left side was hidden. "I could…you know," his dirty blond hair bounced as he pulled his head back a bit, "Leave you alone…"

"No…" she grinned. "I'm not busy…"

"What's the matter, Rinoa? Excuse me, sir. I can help you over here. Sorry I wasn't at the desk just now," a fellow coworker announced suddenly, barging in from a quick snack away from her designated area. Rinoa frowned when she realized it wasn't the same guy who had asked her about the magazines, but it was still someone who was interested in her nonetheless. "Are you okay, dear?"

"Yeah," Rinoa answered her quickly, forgetting she was hiding her face as the woman approached her right side. Her hair shifted slightly and exposed some of her scarred skin.

"Sir?" The librarian asked the man whose eyes were disgusted by the huge disfiguration that was present on the young woman's face.

"S-sorry, I just remembered what it was, but thanks anyway," he answered and hurried off out of the doors. Rinoa immediately remembered that she showed the left side of her face by standing and answering her coworker. Instinctively, she raised her hand to cover it.

"What's his problem, rushing off like that? He looked like he had his question all figured out a second ago…" she shrugged and took a seat, "Boy, and I gobbled down a perfectly good bagel for that."

Rinoa smiled, but had sighed sadly inside. She was always good at pretending things were okay, but inside she was crumbling away. She never wanted to obsess about her difference, but the more she tried to focus her mind on other things, the more she was reminded of the huge ugly mess that was on her face.

"Oh, are you emptying the returned bunch?" The spunky woman asked her, and Rinoa nodded her head quickly. "Great, there's a box of movies and other things that have been returned too, and I was supposed to have those upstairs an hour ago, could you…"

"Sure, I got it," The girl answered cheerfully, her façade was at full throttle once more.

"Thanks Rinny, you're a lifesaver."

She could handle any task that was thrown at her from all sides, and as long as it didn't approach her face from the front left side, she would be able to manage. It didn't matter that she had scared some guy away. She was told that her smile was nice and she would continue to believe it. It wasn't like her face could kill anyone; that was unless their heart was unhealthy and she looked at them too fast and literally scared them to death. It was a horrible thought, but one that actually made a true smile appear on her face. What was she smiling about? Not about the death, of course not, but about her wacky mind that had always found a way to make her smile through everything. Even if other people didn't notice, she would always notice herself and be her own very best friend, aside from Angelo, respectfully.

The girl marched to the upmost part of the library she went, but this time near the movie section which would place her next to the magazine section, which she figured the nice guy would still be but thankfully he was nowhere to be found. She sighed in relief, having endured enough expenditure for one day.

There were some classical movies people had been renting it seemed, the kind of movies you could easily grab a blanket on the sofa, and pop some popcorn to. The thought was so tempting. It was then that she decided what she would do that evening when she returned home after work.

It wasn't like she had any place to be, aside from her parents' house as they were her only friends. Their friends were her friends, and she never minded chatting with her mother's friends. She had always been gifted to converse better with older people than younger people or people her age. She got even better at it after the accident. Older people tended to not ask questions about it, but younger people initiated the conversation with a question about the scar. How could she forget what was there if everyone always reminded her it was there? She didn't hate them for asking, but it was irritating having to go back down that road and remember what had happened to her over and over again.

And she was doing it again, obsessing about it, making a mountain of a when nobody had asked her about it, she thought about what the shortest way of explaining it would be. It was ridiculous, but it was her life.

The scar was her life, it was her identity. She would never be the young librarian, but the girl with the scar instead. Nobody would ever look at her and stare at her if she looked normal, but they looked and stared at her because she was different. There was no way to forget. Even when she tried to forget many times before, some people looked outright disgusted by it. Her feelings were shot. She was now in the process of killing all of her emotions. It was better to feel nothing at all, than to keep hoping that she didn't get hurt by anyone. For her to have any ounce of hope was like running over slippery floors with a glass in her hands, destined to fall and break everywhere—her or the glass, whichever was most fragile.

She stared down at the movie cases and released the breath that was held unknowingly, and continued with her work.

Finally when the boxes were emptied, she headed back downstairs near the front desk again. She had a horrible habit of staring down into her hands at whatever was being carried at the moment, and not looking around her, but her ability to navigate without crashing into other people was most noteworthy. It was an uncanny gift, she admitted. The girl continued to the front desk and was about to ask if one of the two present librarians could take the boxes and place them in their correct places, but she was interrupted by her married, spunky coworker, "Rinoa, sorry to trouble you, dear, but could you help this young man find a certain magazine."

The librarian in her mid forties motioned her head from Rinoa to the man standing before her, "Rinoa's all over this place, and she knows every area well. She'll have that magazine located for you in no time."

Rinoa was standing beside him with her right side to face him. Her hair fell over her left eye again and it presented itself as long and silky, a purposed dramatic diva; however, inside she was cringing with fear. She was surprised no one had noticed how much her body trembled.

"Right, Rinoa? You know every aisle and crevice around here," the woman laughed and the girl smiled nervously, nodding her head in hopes that the talkative woman would get off her case. "Oh, what magazine was it again?"

"Well, it's not really a magazine. It's…almost like a battle series."

"Like a comic," Rinoa spoke suddenly, surprising even herself.

"Yeah," he answered, facing the younger woman instantly, and staring, but his staring was more out of a thankfulness of her knowing what he was talking about. He was glad to have somebody understand his terms of language. "It's an old series..."

"We've got a nice collection here," she had read several series as a kid at first, but then grew out of them for a while, but after working at the library, she had become interested in them again. Rinoa turned her face to him slightly, not wanting to appear rude. She kept it at an angle being certain he couldn't see her whole face. "I'll show you."

"Great," he smiled and waited for her to take the lead, which she did, moving quickly and turning around awkwardly so that he had no choice but to stay on her right side. He followed after her to the second floor again, near the magazine section but against the wall where drawers lined it. Rinoa stood at the front of the wall and faced right side of her face gave him the impression that she was completely normal.

"This is it," the girl extended her arm out. "The library didn't want to keep all the paperback magazines and comics out on the shelves because they're easily damaged. Their all categorized into these drawers. Action, Comical, and even Romance are all placed here to find. Now…your battle series,"

"A 1975 classic," he muttered immediately, it must've been a favorite series of his, "Of course, I wasn't really alive when it first came out, but it's the first edition…Sorry!" he hadn't meant to ramble onward. "I had to see if this library has it."

"…1975 classic?" She asked quietly, and then walked over to the drawers to the action section, "the only series I know of that goes back that far is the 'Esthar Chronicles.'"

"Yeah, that's exactly what I'm looking for. Wow, that's pretty good," he complimented her, folding his arms with a soft chuckle, "Nobody I know ever reads these things or even knows it exists."

"I got back into reading them once I started working here, but I finished a few months back now," she grinned quickly and then returned to her serious librarian face. "I'm glad I did too."

"Good storyline, it's a wonder someone hasn't made it into a film yet," he said, leaning mostly on his right leg, "But then again, films usually mess everything up…"

"Exactly, sometimes it pays to have a vivid imagination because not everything looks pretty on the big screen," she giggled, covering her mouth as she laughed. She was surprised to find that he was laughing right along with her, and then she realized their voices were inappropriate for the library. "Oh, sorry, we have to keep it down."

"Ahh, right," he sighed softly.

Rinoa then cleared her throat and resumed her duty, she opened the drawer with the Esthar Chronicles all lined up together. The series filled up the entire file cabinet's space, all drawers. "So, here you are, hope you find everything you're looking for."

"Thanks to you, I know it's here," the man grinned approaching her at the cabinet and she took a step away quickly. He was too distracted to realize her nervousness.

"Well then, I better…" she fidgeted around quickly and placed her hands on her hips, "yeah, I've gotta get back to work." It wasn't exactly an excuse; after all, she was at work. Furthermore, what else could she say? Rinoa turned to walk away from him, but he stopped her quickly, "Hey, wait…"

She stopped and faced him so that the right side of her face was showing, "Yes, what is it?"

"Thanks again, I was about to give up on this search," he said softly remembering to keep his voice down as well.

"It's no problem," the girl gave him a cordial smile; however, it seemed he had wanted to say more. She lingered in his presence.

He raised his left hand to his hair, scratching his scalp a bit as if he were a little shaky as well, "I don't usually do this, but…" He dropped his hand from his head and faced her completely. "I noticed your smile… I'm not sure if you're seeing anybody— he's a really lucky guy if you are. Anyway, you have a great smile, and I just wanted you to know that."

"Oh…" she mouthed at first, taken aback and completely frozen, completely pale, save for her cheeks blushing deep cherry red. "Th-thank you…"

He smiled again and nodded his head to her. The young man accepted her response as either 'sorry, not interested' or 'taken, but thanks.' He then turned back to the file cabinets and opened the one containing the battle series that had interested him. Rinoa finally worked up the nerve to walk away from her awkward, but flattering compliment. Her heart was still fluttering second upon felt the only way to calm it was to place her hand on her chest and ease it to rest.

She walked across the room trying to remember where she was. Suddenly, trotting feet approached her from behind, and his voice came back to her, "You know…"

Rinoa was surprised and caught off guard, faced him so quickly that she had forgot to turn the normal side to him. And there it was…the hideous thing that was her face. The eternal frown and melting of her skin caked upon her would be attractive for an everyday citizen's face. He stared at her, losing the words he was going to say, forgetting everything once he saw why she had been looking at him with her right side so weirdly all morning long. And he stared for too long, he didn't mean to, but he wondered what had happened to her. He had always only seen her from distances, but never this close before.

She took a deep breath, finally realizing that his earlier compliment had now been recalled. Without further ado, she turned her back to him and continued walking. Her eyes were red with tears. There was no way she could cry at her job, but her tears did not discriminate workplace from home. And streams rushed down from her eyes like a ravishing river, destroying all in its path, all except for the horrible scar that was permanent—a permanent handicap. Quickly, she made her way toward the bathroom to try to stop the emotional rollercoaster she had been riding all day long. She could not take another stare, not today in the least.

Rinoa hid in the restroom for well over twenty minutes, and thankfully no one had gone out to look for her nor had any other ladies come in to use the restroom while she was inside.

Finally, she was ready to reemerge and take her place among the other staff. She headed downstairs first, usually the spunky woman, Mrs. Kramer or much preferred Edea, would have another chore for her to complete. As she approached the desk, sure enough Mrs. Kramer lifted her hand and waved Rinoa to come over, and the girl did so quickly.

"What can I do for you, ma'am?" Rinoa asked sweetly, finally putting her feelings to rest. The older woman smiled and motioned for her to come near.

"Remember that young man you helped out a little while ago," The girl's insides cringed, why would she constantly be reminded of her embarrassment, and most of all, when would it end?

"Yeah," Rinoa answered her with a sigh, not wanting to appear rude.

"Well, he left a message here for you. It's all folded up and I didn't look at it," she grinned. Rinoa was confused, surely she was expecting a few teasing remarks about the attractive man, but for him to actually leave a message, it was highly unexpected.

The girl reached across the counter as Edea lifted the neatly folded paper up, and she grabbed it slowly, frightfully. What could it be? "Thanks," Rinoa said, opening the paper slowly and reading it.

Thanks for all your help today. I'd like to know if you've read the spin-off sister series to the Esthar Chronicles. It would really help to get another reader's opinion before I buy it in bulks from the bookstore. Thanks and I hope to hear your opinion the next time I stop by. —Squall.

Rinoa lowered the paper from her face with a confused expression.

"If I may," Mrs. Kramer asked for the paper, holding out her hand. Rinoa passed it back to her without turning around, still bewildered while the woman read from it quickly.

"Edea," The young woman began, looking to Mrs. Kramer. "I've read everything in that section that there is to read. I know for a fact that there isn't a sister series to the Esthar Chronicles, and I'm pretty sure he would know that too because he seems to be an avid reader of this particular story. …Why would he be interested in buying a series that doesn't exist?"

Edea shrugged her shoulders, "I don't know anything about those comics, but I definitely know one thing. That nice young man, or Squall, is interested in you."

"…What?" Rinoa's eyes widened.

He's interested in me?

Welcome Back!

First off, I want you to forgive me for starting this in the midst of writing the other two. I want to get these stories out of my hair before I get busy with my classes again. Secondly, this story is pretty much a collaboration of my favorite things. I must say this: I have been writing this story over the last three years of my life and have noticed that there have been the releases of a couple of games and movies with plots that are similar to this story. This is by all means coincidental! I am in no way passing off someone else's work as my own. I am actually pretty proud of my story and now I'm really looking forward to continuing my original writing works. In the meantime, I feel the need to write the last of my fanfictions and get them out of my system so I can continue living my life and have no reason to look back anymore, writing-wise. I loved Final Fantasy VIII, but I want to give the story back to Square Enix unscathed by my wrath, lol. I do not own these characters, nor do I claim to be part of Square-Enix. This story is purely to express my love for the game and hopefully to conclude everything that I have ever started in this fandom. I pledge that by the time I end this story, both FateWild and Eternal Breath will be finished.

Dollface is a progressive romance and action adventure story. I will be writing and uploading my other stories simultaneously as this one. Thanks for the support, everyone. Please let me know what you think. I love writing, but I also love hearing from you all too. Thanks and take care!