GALS

Ashley was in a daze, between reality and dream.

She tried to move, only to feel the rough texture beneath her dry feet and hands, pressing against a soft wall that compressed slightly under her weight. The woollen patterns of her jumper pressed against her chest, and her scarf hung loosely around her neck.

Slender fingers brushed her hair as she heard someone humming a melody.

"Darlin', I'd wait for you....
Even if you didn't ask me to...
Tie a lasso around the moon...

And bring it down to you......

Hmm....hmm.....hmm....

You could have mine......
You could have mine.............."

Awake Ashley snapped her eyes open, not believing that the person who was singing the familiar melody with the splendid, soothing voice had been ....

"Felicity....you're back," She chirped while sitting up straight.

There was nothing more than a sisterly embrace between the duo at their reunion.

It was a bond forged in shared trauma that bound them together, despite not being blood relatives.

As a means of showing the other how much they care, Felicity tattooed "To be there for the other's misfortune" on her forearm as a reminder.

"Wow!" Ashley exclaimed in amazement after seeing Felicity's first tattoo. "I can't believe you got it!" she asked.

"Come down, would ya?" Felicity demanded with her hands in a cross.

"Now then firstly please shut up, and I will tell you in the near future, and second of all, how are you feeling?" Felicity inquired about her health.

"Just a bit dizzy, other than that I am fine." Frustrated Ashley responded hastily, removing her grey jumper from her lap and adjusting her scarf.

"Did you have breakfast?" Felicity asked fluffing the pillows as Ashley got up from the sofa.

"Nope!" the Ash tray happily replied.

Felicity shook her head in frustration at her sister's shameless smile.

"Well, I have just the medicine for that — water." The big sister tossed her flask towards the poor victim.

"Oh boy! I've been thirsty for hours and hungry too!" Her stomach growls echoed throughout the wooden room. Her mouth stung as if she hadn't eaten for ten years; after a sigh, she wiped it. She also checked out the room.

They were in the Umbridge Port Office, probably the head office, with piles of papers, folders, archive shelves surrounding the desk-

"OUCH!" Ashley clamped down her hands towards her ear, but the mosquitoes wouldn't stop swarming her blood.

Nostalgic as it was, Ashley reminisced about her idol who couldn't return to Port Umbridge. At least she sent her a postcard packed with details of her ongoing voyages and two pages worth of heartfelt apologises. To make up for her absence, she gifted Ashley a collection of Russian and Japanese stamps in a paper bag, along with a pouch of yens and rubles. Felicity had auctioned some of Ashley's artworks to get those gifts.

Her memory was rudely interrupted by the buzzing sound of mosquitoes. Gloomily, Ashley glanced down at the small heaps of hair falling as Cherry, the hairdresser, snipped away with silvery scissors.

"Dang! Those mosquitoes must be hungry for blood," Cherry chuckled while searching for a mosquito repeller before pulling one out from her trolley. True to her attentive nature, she ensured the spray didn't land on Ashley's fair hair.

"So? Ready to party tonight?" Cherry twinkled in delight at her creation coming to life.

"Hmm.... I am not sure. You know about-" Ashley started, but the radio on the top shelf suddenly erupted with static.

[---IT HAS BEEN REPORTED THA-----B---O---DY BELONGED TO-T-O-----22-YE--FOU-------MACH---RIPP---APART---INVESTI--ON---STA----!!

Cherry abruptly switched the channel to 'Mdio' which was tuned to classic 60s songs. She sighed at the lack of employees due to it being Saturday but quickly resumed her work. With the haircut finished, she applied her 'top-secret' cream as she broke the silence.

"Not feeling up to the beat? It's okay." Cherry said, unclipping the neon green gown from Ashley's neck and brushing off excess hair.

"But the girls prepared so much for today-" Her chair spun away from the hairdressing table to face the vibrant brown eyes of the young black woman in her late-20s. Her striking Afro, perfectly shaped and full of volume, showcased her love for natural hair care. Just like how she loves transparency in others' feelings.

"Ashie! They have been our friends for over 5 DAMN YEARS! Not only that but the five of you are around the same age. You guys are literally sisters at this point. Hell, it's hard for me to have a phone number of the same age without getting hit on." Ashley didn't realize until she heard her laugh echo in the parlour.

"But here's the thing-" The shy girl was shushed by the rough fingers of her lecturer.

"NO. Listen to me," Cherry interrupted, her voice firm. "You're such a people-pleaser. They're not going to corner you or gang up on you. Have faith in them, would ya? Your worth is just the same as anybody else's. What's the worst they could do to you?"

"Murder me?" Ashley joked nervously, playing with her freshly cut hair. Her mind was all over the place. She knew she has some issues, but she didn't from where to start cleaning up. Cherry crouched to meet Ashley's eye level, clutching her hands and patting them.

"Look, not many people will or would have survived from what we went through. I get it why you're so doubtful about their intentions. I mean...even I haven't recovered from it. But hiding it behind a fake smile won't do the job. You just gotta talk about it. Let go of those feelings. Think about it, okay? If you need anything, we are here for you. You're not alone in this." Cherry stood up to clean the massive brown hair pile.

Ashley nodded as the door rang with four chimes, followed by a loud "ouch!".

"Speak of the devils... They are here". She looked up to see four teen girls sit down in the long fluffy sofa. One bounced excitedly, another sank into her seat glued to her phone, while the other two bickered in French.

"Go talk to them. They're your friends for a reason. They'll understand. If not..." Cherry raised a fist playfully with a devilish grin.

Ashley chuckled before turning her attention to her pals.

"SO! WHAT DO YOU THINK?" Ashley spun around in the chair to face-

"OMG! GIRL, IT'S GIVING DE-VIBES!" The enthusiastic outburst echoed with no control over their excitement.

"You look so dead. Please try to look happy for the poor haircut's sake," came the displeased yet tolerant remark.

"Don't ruin the mood. She's finally looking like a DECENT HUMAN BEING," the monotone reply matched the replier's pale facial features.

"At least it's better than before," added another with a dumbfounded shrug, her tone almost unsure of itself.

"I asked for compliments. Not the truth." Ashley's smile had turned upside down in the mirror. She focused more on adjusting to her recent haircut which was a shorter style with steps leading up from the back to the front. Now she should be able to get the work done without obstacles or hurdles.

"WHAT? BU-BUT-BUT I GAVE YOU A COMPLIMENT-" The tanned girl with a red bandana stood up from the fluffy violet sofa before getting pulled down by the black raven hair girl sitting next to her. The humongous black hoodie with purple and violet patches covered her entire body, was accompanied by short jeans. Her pale mono-lid eyes finally looked up from the screen to face the 5-year-old in a teenager's body.

"Belle, you were named after a BOOKWORM. Use your jellyfish brain for once." She rolled her eyes, showcasing her detached demeanor before shifting her attention to her phone.

In response, 'Belle' widened her brown eyes as she sank back into the sofa. The plain grey patched top, stained with fresh tomato soup, was tied up with a hair tie to conceal the mess, unknowingly exposing her belly button. As she tucked up her loose pants (which were uneven in length), her eyes stole glances from her friend's phone causing her eyes to widen upon the search. She diverted her mind by checking herself out in the mirror before blabbering about the tea her friend was brewing. Her left leg was covered by the auburn pants that kept falling down whilst the pant was just over her right knee. In the midst of summer, she only wore long socks on her right foot.

"UMM... Moranna, your picked name literally means dead. That doesn't mean you're supposed to be dead, okay?" The silky voiced blonde defended Belle before snatching Moranna's phone.

"HEY! You BI-!" She handed the pessimist's phone back to her with the right gossip page on it.

"Manners?" She sneered at her absurd use of undignified words.

"Yet, here you are. Vile, just like your name." Not only did the British accent give away her nationality, but also her habit of drinking tea did not hide the fact that-

"Oh please! I was named after my Nobel Lauréate Mamie, Viella Margaux Fontaine. What about you? Avez-vous volé vos noms, tout comme vos ancêtres? " Her malicious historical comment made the English choke her tea out.

"EXCUSE ME-" Due to undesirable circumstances, her message was retorted with satire.

Viella mimicked her British accent with a 'you're excused' card to further infuriate her tiny intolerant scale.

"YOU UNGRATEFUL-" Ashley quickly clamped her mouth shut before her English tongue got the best out of her. Luckily, Cherry held back Viella's punching fist that could have initiated another Hundred's Year War.

"Astoria. Viella. It. Is. My. Birthday. For. Once. Behave." She stared down at Belle and Moranna who were who were live-streaming the chaos for their audience on Mal's channel : Moranna Moray Marionette Moriarty. Sitting at just 56k, more than 100k people were watching the showdown between the English and the French. Suffice to say, they were just there for the girls, not the fight.

Viella's polished appearance clashed with her sharp tongue. Her French braids were neatly plated, adorned with pearls that also hung elegantly around her neck. She wore a sleek black dress paired with a corset intricately embellished with ribbons and pearls, exuding a refined yet dramatic charm. Her leather shoes, immaculately polished, gleamed in the sunlight, completing her poised and commanding look.

In comparison, Astoria adjusted her posture which had a whimsical charm to it that matched her quirky and intolerant personality. Astoria wore a flowing navy cloak that draped over her torso, paired with a skirt made up of multiple layered shades of pink. The handmade nature of the skirt was evident in the prominent stitches joining the various fabrics. Her green hair, styled with sharp bangs and a side ponytail, framed her face, while her brown freckles perfectly complemented her hazel grey eyes.

Still, they both had the common sense to apologize to each other and beg for forgiveness from Cherry, which she didn't grant so easily. As the eldest of the group, Cherry felt it was her responsibility to teach them a lesson about resolving conflicts maturely—with a touch of drama, of course.

She crossed her arms, raising a perfectly arched eyebrow. "You two act like toddlers, not grown adults with pearls and cloaks," she chided, her tone filled with mockery.

Astoria and Viella exchanged sheepish glances before nodding. "We're sorry," they said in unison, their voices with a hint of guilt.

"Good. Now hug it out," Cherry commanded, her voice demanding no argument as she gestured dramatically between the two.

Astoria hesitated but finally gave in, throwing her arms around Viella in an exaggerated, dramatic gesture.

"This is just for Ashley. Appreciate it," she muttered.

Viella sighed but returned the hug. "For the record, you're lucky I'm in a forgiving mood."

Cherry smirked, satisfied with their reluctant truce. "Well, that's more like it." Feeling the soreness that came with her age, she went on her merry way out of the parlour for a break.

Belle rolled her eyes with a smile. "Okay, truce declared. Now, can we focus on enjoying Ashie's birthday without more drama?"

The group erupted into laughter, the tension melting away as easily as the afternoon sun spilled through the window. After their stomach started to hurt, they shifted their attention back to the plans for the celebration.

x----x----x----x----x----x----x----x----x----x----x----x----x----x----x----x----x----x----x----x----x----x

"Speaking of enjoying, I think Ashley got some news to tell." Belle nudged Ashley to speak up.

"What?" She managed to blurt out whilst munching on the special burger Belle had prepared for them. The burger was a masterpiece, made up of freshly grown ingredients. The golden, toasted bun held layers of melted cheddar, crispy lettuce, chewy mushrooms and smoky grilled jalapeños. As Cherry, Viella, and Astoria were vegetarians, Belle made two separate plates: one had fried onion rings and the other chicken tenders. Each bite was a burst of textures and flavours—creamy, smoky, spicy, and sweet—all in one combo.

The burger was so delicious that Moranna finished it in one minute while the rest barely managed to kept up with her. Many customers were intrigued and curious by the food that the girls were gobbling up in delight. Soon, word spread among customers, and Belle's parents were flooded with requests to replicate their daughter's latest recipe over and over again.

Belle's parents, proud owners of the cosy and well-loved restaurant "The Harrison's," were known for their warm hospitality and knack for crafting hearty dishes that felt like home. The restaurant was built down the road, just across from the parlour, and had become a local favourite for its lovely atmosphere. The interior was a blend of rustic charm and modern comfort: wooden beams adorned with fairy lights, chequered tablecloths on every table, and a chalkboard menu that Belle loved to update with cartoon illustrations.

The smell of freshly baked bread and sizzling ingredients filled the air, drawing in both regulars and curious newcomers. Families gathered around for meals, friends chatted over hot cups of coffee, and the occasional solo diner enjoying their exquisite crusine. Belle's parents prided themselves on sourcing fresh, locally grown ingredients, and it was no surprise that the special burger Belle had prepared for her friends became an instant hit.

Belle, watching her creation bring smiles to so many faces, felt a rush of pride. She often helped her parents behind the counter, preparing ingredients or taking orders. Her energetic smile would always light up the room. "The Harrison's" wasn't just a restaurant; it was a gathering place, a hidden gemstones of the community, and a proof to the love and care Belle's family poured into their craft.

Just as the chatter and laughter around the table began to swell again, Moranna interjected. "Oh, you know. The guy." She casually flipped her phone around to show Ashley a photo.

The photo wasn't much—just a grainy shot of a man's back—but Ashley's heart skipped a beat. The image pulled her attention away from the delicious meal in front of her, which was no small feat considering Belle's cooking was widely renowned as the best in all of Umbridge.

Though it only showed his silhouette, she knew instantly it was Einar. The broad shoulders, the worried yet distinct posture—it was unmistakable. Her breath caught as memories of that morning resurfaced. She had been disoriented, but the faint memory of strong arms lifting her, carrying her into the parlour, came flooding back. It was him. It had to be. "Why do you have a picture of him?" Ashley asked, her voice trembling as a mix of curiosity and unease settled over her.

"No, we ask the questions here." Astoria interjected before Ashley could say more. Viella, clearly uninterested in the boy talk, scowled as she lectured Astoria about spilling sauce from the onion rings all over her hands.

"OK! Guys, it's not even that serious. His name is Einar. Age... 16-ish... I believe. Came here for some business. First time. Am I smitten by him? Yes. Well, a little. Codename: Blueberry. Don't ask why." Her prediction was right—at the girls' excited shrieks, Ashley could only roll her eyes. Viella, however, quickly changed the subject, steering the conversation to Ashley's outfit.

"WHAT? You and Asto made these super-duper-cool-comfortable clothes?" Ashley exclaimed, her mouth hanging open in disbelief. Much to Ashley's dismay, Belle and Moranna ignored the outfit talk, instead acted out over-the-top romantic expressions in imitation of Ashley and Blueberry, her supposed first crush.

"To be truthful, I was terrified to see your foster parents at Jass's. Imagine my shock when they picked out our clothes for you." She admitted in-between her bites.

"Belle! For the last TIME, STOP playing with the SENSU!" Moranna's sharp voice cut through the chatter before snatching the fan from Belle before she could ever use it in her theatrical play with her.

Moranna flipped the elegant moonlight fan over to check for grease stains, her jaw tight with irritation. She would have shredded Belle into long strips if she had all the grease on the handmade fan.

Luckily, it stayed safe from food staining.

Moranna packed it in the silky emerald velvet box with three Omamori and her handmade speciality: a set of Tsumami Zaiku. She gently packed the box inside Ashley's bag, ensuring it wouldn't damage the other gifts Ashley had received.

"How's the visa application going for your folks?" Moranna asked, switching the topic, letting the chatter around the table resume its natural flow.

"So far, it's going great," Belle replied, though her tone carried a tinge of hesitation. She covered her mouth as she spoke, lowering her voice. "In the next month or so, we'll know if we made it or not."

"What? Didn't you say it would be over this week?" Her expression was a mix of surprise and concern.

Belle sighed deeply, her frustration barely concealed. "My brother happened," she said simply, her words heavy with unspoken emotion.

For a moment, the world seemed to narrow. The laughter and clinking of plates around them faded into a muffled hum as everyone processed the weight of Belle's response. The air felt tense as memories of the tragic incident at Belle's home flickered in their minds. It wasn't a topic anyone liked to bring up, but it lingered in the background of every conversation, a shadow that refused to fade.

Even so, Moranna couldn't hide her frustration. "This could seriously mess things up," she said, her voice sharp with worry. Visa processes in these ports were infamously unpredictable, and delays often meant rejection. Knowing how much this meant to Belle and her family, Moranna's jaw tightened. She wanted nothing more than to shield her friend from any more setbacks.

Without a word, Moranna reached into her pocket, retrieving a small object wrapped in soft fabric. It was her family crest—a token of both authority and legacy. Secretly, she slipped it into Belle's hand, leaning close for whispered instructions. "If your family runs into any hurdles, show this to the officials. Tell them my family will vouch for you."

Belle looked down at the crest, her eyes widening with a mix of gratitude and surprise. "Moranna, I can't," she began, but Moranna cut her off with a firm look.

"You can, and you will," Moranna said. "This is your brother's future. I won't let anything stand in the way. Plus, didn't I promise to marry that kiddo when he turnes 18?"

The gesture left the table quiet for a moment, the gravity of the situation sinking in. But then Viella, ever the optimist, chimed in with a reassuring grin. "Well, if there's anyone who can make this work, it's Belle and her indestructible willpower. And Moranna's not someone you'd want to argue with anyway."

The tension eased as the group chuckled softly, and lively chatter slowly resumed. But beneath the surface, an unspoken bond of support and determination solidified among them. No matter what lay ahead, they would face it together.

Ashley smiled at her friends' unwavering support, but her smile vanished the moment she recapped her thoughts. She took a deep breath, steeling herself.

"Guys... Even I have something to tell you."

Her voice, hesitant but loud, immediately grabbed everyone's attention, and they all whipped their heads toward her. Their chatter stopped. Carefully, she set her half-eaten burger aside, gathering her thoughts as their curious gazes fell on her.

Taking a deep breath, she began to explain. She told them about her troubling morning—the nausea that had come out of nowhere, the persistent mind flashbacks, and the accidental head bumps she got from falling. Her voice wavered slightly as she recounted the horrific scene she had witnessed, one that her mind would never let her forget in the entirety of her life. Then, hesitantly, she touched on the shocking news about her brother. She had learned about his fling with someone now deceased. The weight of it all made her feel vulnerable, but she finally took the courage to trust her friends enough to share everything.

When she finished, there was a long silence, broken only by the faint clinking of cutlery and the sound of someone shifting in their seat. Just as Cherry had predicted, the girls responded in unison. Their initial shock gave way to concern, and soon, they all agreed—without hesitation—that a change of pace was exactly what they needed.

They quickly decided to scrap their original plans and instead embrace the idea of a casual day out. Something light-hearted and fun, far away from the heaviness of Ashley's revelations, seemed like the perfect way to lift their spirits and help her process everything. As the conversation shifted to planning their outing, their supportive smiles and enthusiastic suggestions made it clear: Ashley wasn't alone in this. Together, they'd figure it out—one step at a time.

The gesture left Ashley speechless, but before the conversation could get any heavier, Astoria sheepishly asked about the sleepover at her house.

"You mean your mansion?" Ashley humoured her while Viella and Moranna started to whack her like a mole.