MJ had found himself sitting in isolation as he stared out the window from his private room. The move to the rehabilitation center went without a hitch. Being in the dark for the last few weeks had helped to keep his mind off of the media frenzy that had followed his overdose. The box office numbers for the opening week of the film had taken less of a hit than everyone had expected as fans went out in droves to counter protests for Danny's actions. Many wanted to show that with or without her, the story was one they had waited for years to be told. It also helped that those intrigued by the drama took it upon themselves to check to see what all the fuss was about so that they couldn't be left out of the conversations that were to be had.

 It had been five weeks since MJ was admitted to the rehab center. Due to his stubbornness, no one was able to visit him during his stay as the staff had not felt MJ had proven himself ready to have visitors. In this moment, Christina was not just his manager, but someone who cared for his wellbeing. She had seen the after effects of his detox just before he was released from the hospital and it was something she would never forget. The first seven days were spent with MJ writhing in agony and gritting his teeth to suppress the pain he felt mentally and physically from the withdrawals. She fought like a warrior fending off any negativity in the media that attempted to show itself in the wake of MJ's sudden absence. As life continued, she had to make sure that she did everything she could so that MJ could rise above this.

Raising his hand to his chest, he still found it hard to fathom how close to death he had come. Mentally, it had been hard to cope with everything that had happened, after all, the pain was still fresh. He had no idea how quickly the toll of Danny's reveal would bring him down. He had even thought he managed to wash his hands of her the moment he kicked her out of his apartment, but now he saw that he had only managed to internalize everything. The moment Danny decided to expose MJ in the worst way possible, he had been driven into a corner, unable to fight his way out. Instead, it was as if he had sat down and allowed himself to be engulfed by the craziness.

In his last-ditch effort to save himself, he went to her.

It made no sense.

The first time he allowed himself to work against his better judgement by following Nayely from the restaurant, he'd beaten himself up for caring about someone who reminded him of the life he had been stripped of. He was reminded of the lies she had told in an attempt to keep him in the dark.

He had never felt a pain that could rival what Nayely had done to him.

So why, at his lowest of lows, did he run to her?

He had dug around in his brain, trying to find a way to understand his decision to take himself to where she was. The truth that he couldn't speak was right on the cusp but went ignored. He had sought refuge with the person who he knew could understand his fears the most. She too had lived through them, and somewhere inside, he hoped that she would catch him before he fell.

He cursed himself when the pathetic actions began to settle in.  

Thinking of his phone, MJ felt the urge to call a certain someone for the thousandth time told him to call just to clear up the misunderstanding he had caused. He saw himself calling Nayely, telling her that what had happened was a mistake and would never happen again. He didn't need her, and he wanted to make sure she knew, but he stopped in his tracks as he had no way to call. After weeks with no electronics, he was happy to know there was no way for him to dig himself into a deeper hole.  Besides, if it didn't matter so much, why speak to her in the first place? He was only going to be setting himself up for failure as it was obvious he was breaking through the hard-set boundaries he had enforced. A phantom pain shot through his chest as he gripped his top in his hands. Catching his breath, he desperately waited for the emotions he felt to simmer back down.

"Mr. Park? It's time for your session." An attendant knocked against the door, allowing herself into the emotionally charged space. Torn away from his thoughts, MJ masked what he had truly been feeling and followed the routine, thankful for an excuse to drift away for now.

Just one more week.

If he could last that long, he would soon be out of his six-week stint in the facility. MJ had to make sure he could prove that he had taken to the treatment that had been given. From one on one therapy to attending group lectures detailing how to avoid and overcome relapsing, he had his fill.

As he followed the young woman down the halls of the building, he couldn't help but remember the time he had spent in the Rose House as a child. Knowing that once again he had landed in a place filled with people coping with the unique history that trailed behind them as they learned to maneuver through their new lives felt like a cruel twist of fate. It was for that very reason he had so much trouble during the beginning of his stay acclimating to his new environment. The patients were told to view the facility as a community where they were not alone in this journey.

Just as he had resisted the prying nature of Doctor Ro as a child, MJ had made slow progress in the counseling he had been receiving during his stay. Initially, he was intentionally non-receptive to the prodding of the staff to help him face the reason why he had nearly died. The more he resisted, he pushed himself closer to receiving an extended stay recommendation from the doctors there. When it had been made clear that by rejecting the treatment, he would be getting nowhere, MJ had to mentally change everything he knew up until then just to make it through.

It hadn't been easy but here he was moving towards the conversation that would confirm whether or not he would be receiving his final evaluation. When the young woman came to a stop before an office, MJ took a deep breath, knowing just how crucial this session was.

When the white door opened to expose the quaint and simple office inside, MJ wiped his palms against the side of his pants.

"Chelsea! Thanks for bringing Mr. Park by!" The cheerful voice of Doctor Smith came from around the door as he emerged with a hot cup of coffee at his lips. Wincing from the heat, he gave a wave of thanks to the young woman as she left the two men on their own. With a wide smile, Doctor Smith greeted MJ.

"Long time no see! Why don't you go ahead and take a seat?" Speaking fast, Doctor Smith strolled to his desk, picking up the notepad MJ had come to recognize during his visits.

"Not too talkative today, are we?" After five weeks, the older man was well aware of MJ's affinity to remain silent whenever he arrived.

When MJ sat in the chair opposite of the doctor's, he quirked up the side of his mouth forcing a smile he knew would help his case. "I'm sure there will be plenty of time for that today."

"You are certainly correct." Taking his seat, the doctor threw one of his long legs over the other, settling in for what would be hopefully be their final meeting. "I know mums the word with you, but today I assure you I have quite a bit I'd like to share as well. But of course, not before I hear how you have been doing since our last visit."

Shrugging his shoulders, MJ offered some conversation. "Early morning yoga, group discussions, and meditation have kept me pretty busy. I have to say I wish I had appreciated it all sooner." Implying his desire to have this be his final week, MJ recounted some of the extracurricular activities he had taken part in.

"So much to do in so little time, huh? Many don't realize just how fast time can pass during their stay. It changes from one person to another, especially when you consider all of the factors that go into being here."

"Six weeks to figure out why we've fucked up our lives can seem impossible to some."

Nodding his head, Doctor Smith took a sip of his drink. " You're right. For some, their entire lives have been steeped in major event after major event and naturally, it takes a lot of energy and effort and time to learn how to handle things such as that."

"Asking someone to find the answer to a problem that has strangled them their entire lives is pretty risky. Who wouldn't go crazy trying to figure that out?"

"Well, I do believe that at the crux of human nature, no matter what an individual has been through, they would do anything to preserve their lives, no?"

MJ's jaw hardened at the question as he knew just how true it was. A flashing memory of Nayely's wide eyes just before he had lost consciousness all those weeks ago hit him.

"So, where are we Mr. Park?" Doctor smith waited as MJ raised his brow.

"I'm guessing, your office, isn't the answer you're looking for?"

"Yes, well, though that is a possible answer, it is not the correct answer in this case." Doctor Smith chuckled in acknowledgement. "When you were first brought in, you were met with a number of new and unfamiliar things. Treatment can be viewed as unpredictable on the patient side as there isn't a clear indication of what to expect when you first arrive. The biggest and sometimes only expectation many may hold is that treatment should lead to recovery. Yet, the steps that are taken to get there aren't always as cut and dry as some would hope. Do you remember your first day with us, Mr. Park?" Doctor Smith placed his notepad aside as he waited for an answer.

"It was a blur." He offered. Shifting in his seat, MJ cleared his throat." I couldn't see where life began or ended. It just-it felt like things were taking on a new shape, but I had no control."

"Now that we have arrived at week six, are you still feeling that way? As if you have no control?"

"To be honest with you, doctor, I still don't know when I lost control or if I ever even had it."

"Oftentimes, we can confuse ourselves with what it is that we control. In some cases, you have no control over the situation you have been placed in, but the perspective with which you view it. From meeting and speaking with you since your arrival, I believe this can be said of you."

Gripping the arm of the chair, MJ's eyes did not avoid the doctor's.

"Think of it this way, Mr. Park. At the beginning, I could barely get a word out of you. You were insistent on riding this experience out by avoiding all of the necessary actions to do so. From where you stand, that could have been easily misinterpreted as having control over your situation." Bringing his body closer to the edge of his seat, Doctor Smith dug deeper into the conversation.

"When you walked through those doors, you saw this as a quick and easy way to resolve your temporary fix to a long-term issue."

"Long-term?" MJ said skeptically." I fucked around and got caught up in some things I shouldn't have. I'd say that the drugs were always a temporary fix to a temporary issue."

"Now, did that temporary issue ever go away? Can you say with confidence that you are absolutely free from what's dragged you to this point in your life?" When met with silence, Doctor Smith clasped his hands together.

"The issue at hand wasn't necessarily just your drug use, Mr. Park. When you sought out an answer through drugs, it was because of the deep roots that have sprouted and lead to parts of you that haven't been discovered just yet. Or maybe parts of you that you have buried and do not wish to find again. This certainly goes beyond just drugs."

There was no way for MJ to refute the doctor's statements at all. He had plenty of time to think of the turn his life had taken and was able to admit that Danny wasn't the root cause for the turmoil he suffered from. When Danny had entered his life, he was already haunted by his mother's death and the connection it had to Nayely.

The two greatest losses in MJ's life had left him unable to understand just what was inching its way to the surface from the darkest parts of his spirit before it was too late. Everything he had repressed nearly claimed his life.

"For that reason, I believe that it is best you continue your treatment so as to keep pace with reaching the point when you are able to identify and seek understanding of the conflicts you suffer from." Flipping through his notebook, Doctor Smith began to look through the papers at hand.

MJ's eyes widened at the implication of the doctor's words. Sinking back in his chair, he tightened his jaw as he realized he had blown his chance to leave rehab. Just how long would they keep him here?

"This here is a comprehensive treatment plan specially made for your post rehabilitation journey. I do have a few recommendations for outside offices that could best fit your needs and help you reach your goals, but the key to success when you walk out of these doors will be your own commitment to getting better. Remember, we can not neglect our mental health, Mr. Park. When that's in order, only then can we truly nurture our overall wellness."

When Doctor Smith slid a thick packet across the table, his face softened as he saw MJ go pale with relief.

"Like we have discussed before, the treatment team here have always been here to support you no matter what. I know it may be hard, but its just as important to find people on the outside who can have a role in your life that is just as fulfilling. You must allow them to do so, of course."

"You say that as if its simple."

"It's only as hard as you make it out to be. I know for a fact that you may distance yourself from the idea of needing anyone, but that's a far cry from what you've shown me in your time here."

Lifting the packet to his lap, MJ took a deep breath. If he was going to make it through, this would become his bible to live by.

Nayely's feet glided across the fast-moving belt as she steadied her breaths. This was her last stretch in her workout for the day, yet she could already feel a sense of emptiness as she knew it would soon come to an end. It was an addiction she had built long ago-the need to go faster and farther each time she stepped into her realm. Running had become the most consistent part of her life. The power and strength she felt as she fought against space and time excited her beyond words. Once upon a time, running was symbolic of her leaving behind all of the ills that had hurt her in her life.

But now? It stood for her moving closer to the new life she deserved. Nayely had become determined to make it so. Her intuition told her that she would need to be quick on her feet for the mystery that was waiting ahead for her. What it was, she had no idea, but she knew it was inevitable.

As she felt the belt of the machine gradually slow down, Nayely matched it's speed, feeling the cool air that had beat against her skin become replaced with the heat that rose throughout her body.

"That's right let's bring it on down." Terrence watched over the display as he recorded his observations for the day. Satisfied with her work he clapped his hands as she took her final strides.

"You're looking good, Nayely. You're staying light on your feet just like I told you. Do you feel the difference?" Nayely answered Terrence as she moved to cool down, getting in position to begin her stretches so that her muscles could stay nice and lean post workout.

"The strain is definitely gone." Placing her hands on her hips, Nayely flexed her right leg forward, noting the disappearance of the tenderness she had felt just weeks before. During her training, she had become too distracted and doubled over in pain as she strained the muscle. She was always so careful with her body, but she knew she wasn't immune to mistakes either.

It just bothered her why she had made the mistake.

Since her chance meeting with MJ, it seemed as though her life was prepared to be flipped upside down. Revisiting a past she never wanted to suppress proved to be more difficult than she had first thought. She had created a routine, a consciousness that had helped her survive all of these years of loneliness. No matter the achievements she made or the people she met, she was always lacking, and she knew it.

Nayely had to be honest with herself-she never thought she would have been strong enough to keep on going yet here she was.

She had endured it all with as much fortitude as she could muster up.

The more that Terrence rattled off, Nayely listened closely, providing her thoughts to his observations and suggestions. When they talked running, things were good. There had been no bad blood between the two for the last few weeks which was always appreciated. When they could both do their jobs successfully, everyone got to walk away happy.

After her run in with MJ, Nayely had done her best to mask anything that may have hinted to something being up with her when she saw Terrence. Afterall, they had to continue to work alongside each other as the shoe project carried on. They were close to giving the final tweaks for the filming that went along with the campaign.

The sound of vibrating metal caught both of their attention as Nayely's phone rang inside her bag. As she stretched her lower back, Nayely glanced from her place on the ground as Terrence retrieved her phone. She did not miss the sneaky glance he took as he turned the screen over in his hands, leaning down to hand it to her.

"Who would be blowing you up when you're still in training?" He scoffed as he failed to hide his wonder at the unrecognizable number that displayed on the phone. The messages however offered him fodder for his imagination.

Dropping her feet to the ground, Nayely viewed the messages from the number she had ignored for weeks.

Khalil.

Though she hadn't saved his number, she had memorized it after his weekly check ins were never-ending. Though she never responded to one of them, he never failed to send one just to remind her of his existence.

Your ignore game is strong. I know you see this. Your read receipts are on.

Yeah, she couldn't lie. She had no problem doing a quick sweep of his messages every once in awhile.

MJ gets released this week. I feel like you deserve to know. Hit me back when you get this, I'd hate for you to miss out on anything.

Sitting up, Nayely fought off the wave of dizziness that hit her from the sudden movement. Without thinking, she opened her keyboard with her fingers posed to text back. It was only when she could feel the presence of Terrence walking past that she stopped to realize that she was about to break down the wall she had built.

It's-it's not my business.

She reminded herself.

Rising from the ground, Nayely moved to grab her bag in need of a nice shower and solitude.

As she moved through the gym, she didn't pay any mind to the eyes that followed her. Terrence had seen the mention of a name he had never seen before. As he stayed behind, he racked his brain for any memory that could tell him who the hell MJ was.

Nayely rarely found herself caught up in relationships-something Terrence always made sure to stay on top of-so the thought of there being a man she could possibly be involved with hit a jealousy chord within the married man. Somewhere in his mind, he had convinced himself that Nayely would never have another man in her life.

"Don't talk to them again. Or else rumors may get out that they pass you around in the village."

"What are you talking about? Why would anyone think-"

Grabbing Nayely by the elbow, Terrence ignored the way she flinched at his touch. It stroked his ego to see her eyes widen and her stubbornness fall to him. It was just like the night of his engagement party. It had taken so long to break her, and with a little more push, she'd be right where he wanted her. He'd had his taste and plotted the day he would get another.

"Just do what I say."

Nah.

He could never let that happen.

When Nayely made her way into the special dining hall that catered to the athletes who frequented the training center, she allowed her nose to lead her down the buffet style lines to get her fill. This was one of her favorite parts about the sport-the recovery. Deciding that she had more than enough food to last her for the first round, Nayely found herself at a booth tucked away in the corner. With her headphones in and fork to her mouth, she joined in on the comfortable silence that could be heard as other's settled in.

When Nayely managed to get to the bottom of her plate, she was finally able to take in the sounds of light conversations that shifted throughout the room. Only a brief moment of regret filled her when the last piece of veggie pizza no longer looked appetizing. She had imagined it piled high with meat but now as the illusion wore off, her stomach protested another bite.

"You know you're allowed to get seconds, right?" A shadow cast over the table as a familiar face spotted Nayely from across the room and decided to join her.

"I bet you know all about seconds, don't you?" Leaning on her elbows, Nayely stared down the woman who took a step back from the table in surprise. After a moment of flexing, she broke her façade with a smile as Cheyenne Johnson put on her best offended face.

"You're wrong for that, you know?"

"Now you know I never got my chance to celebrate in your face, girl."

"I'm glad! It would have only been worse in the moment when you would have really been feeling yourself!" Pulling Nayely from the booth, Cheyenne wrapped her arms around her shoulders as they embraced each other.

Rubbing her hands across her back in a warm greeting, Nayely felt happy to see a friend. She could still remember the first time they had met years ago when Cheyenne was still an aspiring middle school runner. Stepping back to admire the bright and wide tooth gap that she showed off confidently, Nayely was happy to know that two great competitors could share genuine moments like this. They both still kept an old polaroid that had been taken after Nayely's return from her victorious Olympics debut where Cheyenne had promised to work hard enough to one day beat her idol.

"What have you been up to? I feel like I haven't seen you around as much." Holding her hand, Nayely led Cheyenne to sit across from her.

"Well, I had to take some time off that I wasn't expecting. You know my mama isn't getting much better. Sometimes I'll call home and Daddy answers the phone sounding all tore up. I made some time and went back to Houston to be with them a little while."

The topic of her mother's battle with Lupus was one Cheyenne had only shared with Nayely. In their world, she tried to keep her most troubling issues at bay so that she would be able to focus on her training. In the midst of knowing how much her mother's life had changed and the fact that she was far away, Cheyenne had trusted the woman who had become her mentor once she had joined the team early on. Nayely had even become close with Cheyenne's parents and little siblings, having visited during holidays and other special occasions many times throughout the years. She had become and integral part of Cheyenne's life.

"I've got to get out there to see her again. I know the last time I visited you could see it was taking a toll, but she refused to show it."

"Who are you telling? As soon as I walked in the house, she hopped up and started moving around like nothing was wrong. "Shaking her head, Cheyenne pulled her hat closer to her short pixie cut. "I just wish I could be there. If you're coming for Thanksgiving this year, we need to take some pictures. I want to bring some back whenever I can."

Nodding her head in agreement, Nayely listened on as Cheyenne cracked jokes and spoke of many things that had been missed over the last few weeks.

"You know what, while I'm thinking about it, since when did your man spend so much time mentoring?" Cheyenne sipped from her water bottle as Nayely froze, giving her a confused look.

"Who's man?"

"Your man!"

Shaking her head from side to side, Nayely waved her hand. "You better not be talking about who I think you are."

"I sure am! You know he walks around like he has a wifey, girlfriend, and mistress." Nayely shuddered from the insinuation, as they both shared the same repulsion towards Terrence.

"And who exactly has he been mentoring?"

"Well-take a look for yourself." Pulling up a quick search, Cheyenne pushed her phone towards Nayely. Noticing the Instagram page laced with track and field pictures, Nayely's attention was held by one image in particular. She studied the photo collage noting the article headlines celebrating the high school star alongside an image of the teen smiling proudly at the camera.

"Oh-Oh wow."

"Right?"

Squinting her eyes, Nayely had to confirm that what she was seeing was real. If she didn't know any better, she would have thought that she was staring at an old picture of herself. Of course the girl was much thinner than she was at her age, there was no mistaking the similarities. From the softness of her full features to the flowing hair that trailed behind her, Nayely was staring at her mini me.

"This is flipping me out. I just-"

"I only started working with the girls at River Heights these last few months. One of the girls sent this article in our group chat and well I got curious and went to hard on my Instagram searches." Pulling the phone back, Cheyenne began scrolling intently.

"What does that have to do with Terrence?" Nayely was aware of the connection his family had to the prestigious high school but was still in awe of how much the young girl she had been shown mirrored her.

Flipping her phone back in Nayely's direction, Cheyenne spoke in a low tone.

"You tell me..."

A knot formed in the pit of her stomach as Nayely tried to understand the picture before her. The young runner's face was at the forefront of the selfie as she puckered her lips for the camera. The large black t-shirt she wore was hidden behind a broad shoulder that obscured the last letters of the word ‘coach' written across the breast.

The girl's free hand curled affectionately against the neck of the topless man resting against her chest.

The profile of a man Nayely had seen for the last 8 years. One she could never miss.

"That's..."

"Terrence." Cheyenne finished.

Dropping the phone to the table, Nayely stared wide eyed as the weight of the picture made it hard to breathe.