All Good Things Must Come to an End


... But memories remain...

Ash stood on the sidewalk with a makeshift fan made of newspapers and cursing the unpredictable heat of the midwest. Yesterday it had been a not-uncomfortable eighty-five Fahrenheit, and today it was over a hundred. He was used to it, but it didn't make it any easier to adjust to after coming down from up north, where it was cooler, even in the middle of June. His black hair didn't help matters in the beaming sun, which seemed a little too cheerful for where he'd just come from. He glanced back at the tinted windows of the glass doors behind him. Alton Memorial Hospital was cool and dark when one entered from outside, but smelled too clean. Was too clean. Its tones were easy on the eyes at least, beige, brown, and black, with many lively potted plants dotted here and there to liven up the place. Otherwise it was dark, dated, and quiet, a melancholy place. He breathed out and turned left, taking the curved sidewalk to where it abruptly turned to go the length of the hospital. He twisted the newspapers and stuffed them into a recycle bin on the way by another pair of doors, these automatic, and they opened and closed when he went by, receiving a few odd or recognizing looks from those inside.

That was the most annoying bit of his job. He sought after natural disasters, anywhere from tornadoes to wildfires and everything in between. It seemed he was most well known for shots of the war taken overseas, where he'd spent two years. He could, for the most part, travel without people pulling him to a stop to talk about what he'd seen that he didn't get on camera, even with the odd vehicle he usually traveled in. It was a completely custom thing that was so heavy he couldn't take it on smaller roads, but the weight was necessary to keep it grounded as he drove directly through tornadoes to get shots that no one else could. Today was different, however. He wasn't seeking out any form of danger---in fact, he was hiding from it. He'd been called back home a week ago and was informed that his mother had had a stroke. Every day since returning he had come to sit by her side for several hours, biting back the urge to cry at her once-strong body becoming more frail and fragile as she laid, bedridden, her voice quiet as she spoke. At least he could take photos of the greenery and flowers around the hospital and make her smile a bit, even as they received news that she would only continue to get worse.

Ash blinked hard and decided to believe that the watering in his eyes was from the transition into glaring sunlight as he grasped his camera, pulling it up and cycling through the dozens of pictures he'd taken. A few of the therapy animals the hospital would host several days a week, a few different butterflies, and a neighbor his mother had been friends with for a long time. She barely recognized the woman. He turned the camera off and let it hang on his hip, jamming his hands into his pockets and wondering when she'd start to forget him. Her brain was deteriorating, her doctor had told Ash. It wouldn't be too long before she went to sleep and just... didn't wake up. He turned onto the connecting sidewalk and stared at his feet. She was indeed an old woman. She'd had Ash when she was forty five, quite old to have a child. But she'd been so strong. He should have known. Swiping the hair that was longer on the right side, he looked up as he started to approach another set of doors that led into the main building.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Parodi... the cancer is terminal. We predict you'll have about a year to live."


That was what they said. A year to live. Jillian Parodi, honestly, didn't know if she was prepared for the news or not. It seemed as though she was doing better. She contracted one of the most curable and yet incurable cancers in America, Breast cancer. They mulled over the thought of cutting it out, but it was simply spreading too rapidly. There was nothing the doctors could do. The doctors would continue Chemotherapy and radiation in hopes that a miracle would happen, or at least the cancer would be slowed. But that was it, Jillian Parodi had a death sentence. It was up to her to do what she will with her year of life.


"We'll allow you to leave the hospital for a few days a week... Monday, Friday, and Saturday will be yours. You won't have any treatments or any appointments."


It sounded more like she was on parole than stuck in a hospital. But Jillian never saw much of a difference between hospitals and prisons. She nodded at the doctor as he stared down at his clip board. He didn't make eye contact with her, as if he didn't want to show the shame in his eyes. He was a doctor, doctors save people, but they couldn't save her. There was a few seconds of silence as he mulled over her charts before wishing her a good day and leaving the room. It was the first Friday Jillian was able to have off. And she wanted to do it making others happy... by playing for them.


A few nurses came in to make sure everything attached to her was detached properly and then left her to change into some normal clothes. Once that was done, Jillian stepped out of bed and pulled on a black tank-top, a denim vest, a pair of high wasted shorts (that she tucked the shirt into), and a pair of gladiator sandals. She stared at herself in the mirror for a moment, she was thin. She didn't know why she showed off her body like this, no one would like some one so disgustingly thin. And then she reminded herself that getting people to like her was not something she was wanting to do. She sighed, running her hand over her head. The treatments had left her with just some fuzz on her head, nothing more. Her eyes moved over to the chair beside the mirror and sighed. Her mom had purchased her a brunette wig that reached just down to the nape of her neck, bangs pulled off to one side. This was specifically for this reason. Jillian took the wig and pulled it over her head with a small smile. It was just like her old hair, before she had shaved it off for the treatments. She didn't want to get pitied when she played, so, she wanted to try and look as normal as possible.

There was a car waiting out front for her. A shuttle driver from the hospital would take her to the near by mall so she could do whatever she wanted. Jillian took one last look at herself in the mirror, moving a few strands of hair behind her ear, before grabbing her guitar and heading out to the elevator. It was early morning and the forecast predicted that it was going to be a lot hotter outside than it was yesterday. Jillian could only hope that the mall and the shuttle both had air conditioning. She wasn't exactly prepared to go out in to the heat, but she had to. Just for a little while.

As Jillian walked toward the entrance, she almost ran into a rather tall male coming into the hospital. She quickly moved out of his way and turned to apologize. "Oh my gosh! I'm sorry, sir," She said, "I wasn't exactly looking where I was going." Her eyes caught sight of his camera and she smiled lightly, "Nice camera... but, I gotta go! Can't miss the shuttle! I'm sorry again!" And with that she headed out the automatic doors into the blazing heat of summer and headed toward the shuttle van.

He imagined, against his better judgment, the last days of his mother's life. Why he though of that Ash had no idea, and he shook himself, rearranging the well-fitted black sheet of clothing over himself and making a mental note to wear something a little lighter next time. Most of his clothes were plain and dark, easy to throw on in the middle of the night when his emergency radios buzzed with weather alerts. When he stepped into the hospital he was nearly sideswiped by someone exiting, and he didn't have a moment to reply. But when the young woman turned he had time to lift his camera and snap a picture, glancing down at what he caught. Mid-stride, hair just slightly in the middle of a swift bounce. Elegant, though thin. Perhaps a patient. The hair didn't look exactly real around the edges. A cancer patient? She certainly had a liveliness to her, especially with her guitar case. A musician, then. He smiled a little and turned, taking the stairs to the third floor and going down the hall.

When he stepped up to his mother's room, Ash's heart raced when he saw a nurse coming out, her sneakers silent on the white floor. "Miss?" He asked, pushing back his hair when it fell in his face and threading it behind his ear. "Is everything okay?"

"I was just taking vitals and blood sugar, sweetie, nothing to worry about." The nurse looked about sixty, but her deep skin and bright almond eyes gave her a youthful appearance. "She's sleeping right now, though."

"Oh...? Well... Is everything okay? I mean, is..." Ash bit his lip, looking into the room. He had brought her a preserved rose, bright yellow, which gave a splash of color to the plain white and beige room. It was set up to resemble a regular bedroom, complete with textured wallpaper, gentle lighting, rose-pink curtains and softly carpeted flooring. The bed resembled the one she had at home, only it maneuvered easily to let her sit up when she was awake.

"She's doing fine, hon. Your mama's in good hands, take a day off. You basically know the staff here by name already!" The nurse, named Jean, laughed, and it eased Ash a bit. He smiled and nodded.

"Thanks Jeanie... You guys are doing a really great job for her..."

"Aw, Ashley, we're just doin' our jobs. You're really helping her keep her head in reality, yourself. Now head off. Go to the park, the mall, find something to do, just get your butt outta here!" Jean waved her hand and Ash laughed, raising his hands in defeat and turning. At least he could listen to the nurse. He didn't want to stay out in the heat, so the park was out of the question. He could at least take the ten-or-so minute drive to the mall and fill up his car with whatever he could find. He chuckled to himself, breathing out as a wave of heat hit him. He swiped his hand over his forehead and jogged to his car, a red thing that was what he used to travel around when he wasn't looking for a storm.

The next thing she knew, she was off to the nearby mall. On a beautiful Friday morning like this, she was sure it would be busy. Beside her was a black guitar case. She smiled lightly, she was eager to share her talent with the public. It had been a dream of hers since she learned to play guitar. She remembered the day fondly. She was about 7, when she had seen someone in the near by kids park. He looked like he was from the university, tall, long, wavy blond hair. She had stood in front of that boy for what felt like hours just listening to him play. That's when she asked her mom to get her lessons. She was too young to understand why her mom was so happy to get her daughter out of the house, but either way, it got her to learn the guitar.

When she arrived at the mall, she thanked the hospital driver, and stepped into the mall. She blended in with the people around her easily, and she felt like she belonged. Just because she had cancer did not make her different than anyone else. The mall was busy with all different people. Parents and children, highschool student and their friends, and college kids trying to decided if they had the funds to pay for things they wanted. The halls were wide and very crowded but Jillian found a spot in the middle of the building, sat down on a bench, and set herself up. With her guitar case open. She wasn't really asking for money, but some sort of income was nice. She pulled her guitar into position and began...

No I'm not particular

But could he have blue eyes

Just like the sky

And long hair

Wavy and light

And 6 foot 2 is my favorite height

But lord I don't care what he looks like


Whatever you want

Is whatever I want

I'm not particular


So if he has green eyes

That would be fine

Or brown hair

That's quite alright

Now 6 foot 2 is my favorite height

But lord I don't care

When she started, people looked a little confused. It was strange to see a random girl just start playing guitar. But at the same time, they didn't look displeased. People stopped and listened, while others passed, tossing in coins and dollar bills to her guitar case. Children, about her age when she started to play guitar, sat in front of her and listened to whatever she had to sing. She smiled brightly, happy that people were interested and taking enjoyment in her music. It was everything she hoped for. Her voice was beautiful and obviously self trained. She spent a lot of time in the hospital honing her voice and making sure it was perfect. Of course, she got a few complaints from the older and more bitter patients now and then, but sometimes they would ask her to sing for the younger patients. This was all that she ever dreamed to do with her days.

He entered the automatic doors at a little past two, his camera with him as it nearly always was. It was almost a compulsion to carry the thing all over the place, mostly left in his car for more menial tasks and in a case specially treated to handle high heat or cold for summer or winter to remove the risk of the lens freezing, warping, or somehow fogging up. It was odd how the place had changed after being away for so long. He barely recognized the layout, and there were many new stores that weren't there five years ago. It was all familiar, but... alien. He stepped into a clothing store here, a game shop there. A Sears and JCPenny on the second floor, even a pet store, which had on display small puppies in the glass showcases on either side of the door. Ash loved animals, especially puppies, and he stepped inside to take several photos of not only the Yorkie puppy, which was the smallest, but a large, well-behaved parrot in the corner.

He went back downstairs rather emptyhanded, smiling to those that looked his way and waved. He didn't have any school friends here anymore, but it seemed that a combination of his photography, that Science channel biography on storm chasers, and occasional charity work at several children's hospitals had him on good terms with just about anyone he met. Or they just mistook him for someone else, which was hard to do with a look as specific as his. He was old enough to know when to shove aside the modesty and just embrace his life as it was, but there was still some apprehension; fear that he'd get too big an ego or some sense of empowerment, and he didn't like that.

Ash paused, an involuntary twitch of his ears lending to a melodic sound. A guitar, one of his favorite instruments. And a voice, light, but there nonetheless. He walked toward the plaza, which was bathed in sunlight from the large glass dome atop the mall, and went around a planter. The face, body, clothing, he recognized it. He had bumped into her---or it was the other way around---at the hospital not even half an hour before. He smiled, pulling himself to a stop just nearby and watching her through the lens of his camera, the way he saw the world half the time anyway, and snapping a picture here and there as he crouched. She looked natural, not the way some people actively tried to pose for a shot while simultaneously acting as if they were going about their business. She was more focused on the instrument.

Jillian's songs went on for an hour before she wanted to take a break. The children who were left there by there parents wandered off with I phones to call their parents and see where they were. Jillian sighed and took the last taste of her water and sighed. She needed a lunch break and it was getting late. She probably only had an hour left before she had to go back to the hospital. She sighed and stood up, staring down at the bit of money she had collected. She wasn't going to pull it together now, she'd look greedy. She had plans to donate it, however, to the child's cancer section of the hospital.

Jillian placed her guitar on top of it all and closed it. She picked up the case and started to move to the nearby food court. Before something... well, someone caught her eye. It was the man who she had run into at the hospital. And... he had his camera on him. She bit her lip and continued on to the food court. Perhaps she should go back to the hospital early? She was getting an uneasy vibe from this man. Why did he have his camera with him? Why did he have it on at the hospital? A little sketchy, she thought. And now he was photographing her...

She stared at the food around her and pursed her lips. She hadn't had real food in a long time, and to be honest, fast food wasn't really... real. She stared at her options, before deciding on the Nathan's on the corner. They had good burgers and fries, and she simply loved those little red forks they always gave you. She smiled lightly as she got into line. She ordered the biggest hamburger she could, as well as two things of fries and a mountain dew. She needed to get some fat on her bones. So, after she paid and got her food, she moved over to a table by the windows and sat down to start eating.

When she got up to leave, Ash sighed at the loss of his subject. He would never run the photos by media or magazine, not without her consent to do so, unlike many shutterbugs who didn't seem to know that. He'd taken the photos solely for the angle, lighting, and style. If anything he would delete them later before uploading the nature shots into his folio. Standing and stretching his legs, Ash started wandering again, passing stores and pausing to look in here and there. Perhaps he should get lighter clothes... White. But he hadn't worn anything strictly white in a long time because it showed dirt so easily. He grimaced and shook his head, deciding against it, heat stroke be damned.

Things were so different he got lost several times, the layout familiar but the sights completely different. Ash's pride kept him from asking for directions when he felt as if he were hopelessly lost in the labyrinth, but there was a point he managed to get back to familiar, trodden territory again, and as he did so, the smell of food began to grow more prominent. He had to be near the food court, and the presence of brightly lit signs both familiar and otherwise comforting.

He was looking up at the dome that seemed to be a common theme all around the mall. It was beautiful, like an observatory free to stare at the skies in all directions, but it was just capped rather than coming down to form the walls as well. Ash smiled at the sight, distracted enough to misstep and trip over thin air, falling flat onto his stomach and watching in horror as his camera skittered across the floor and hit the foot of a familiar someone nearby. Ash's breath was knocked from him, so he gasped like a fish out of water while his arms worked to push himself onto his knees.

As Jillian ate, savoring the fatty food she has been denied for two years, someone fell. A hushed, yet loud "Oooh" came from the crowd around her. A few people whispered to each other. Jillian looked down as something slid at her feet. She stared at the electronic for a moment before recognizing it. The camera. She picked it up and raised her eyes to the man from the hospital. He had fallen flat on the ground and was gasping for air. Sure, she was a little suspicious of him, but she couldn't help her good-willed nature. She stood to her feet, grabbed her water, and moved toward the man, kneeling down to help him up.

"Oh my!" She exclaimed, "Are you alright? I didn't see you fall... but it looks like it definitely hurt." She helped him into an upright position before offering her water to him. "Drink some of this? It may help," She said. While he recovered, she picked up his camera again and started to flip through the pictures he took of her. They weren't creepy, really. They didn't look anything like she thought they would. They were beautiful and well positioned. "Hey... These are really good."

Jillian looked up at him, moving a few strands of escaped hair behind her ear. "Are you a photography for a magazine?" She asked, "Or a news paper?" She kept flipping through them, making a mental note of her favorites and which ones she thought captured her "Bad side". She held the camera out to him. "They're really good..." She said, "I saw you at the hospital, right?"

At least there weren't many people around. Those that were didn't do much to help, not that they ever would. Famous, well-known, or an average Joe, whenever someone fell it was always funny and few would reach out to actually help. Ash didn't exactly mind, but he could have done without sending some of his most expensive equipment flying across the floor and into the foot of the girl he'd been accidentally stalking for half the day, apparently. Grimacing, he managed to push onto his knees and take a deep breath, nodding when she asked if he was okay. He thought he was, at least. No broken ribs as far as he could feel. When he could breathe normally again, Ash stood and shook his head.

"No, not so much." He shrugged. "But, uh, yeah. I was up at the hospital earlier to visit my mom but she was asleep... So I figured I'd come here, see what changed since... y'know, I haven't been around here in years..." Taking a step forward, Ash looked at the images she was inspecting. "Like them? I try to catch whatever I can... But I never publish pictures of people without their consent, I swear." He waved the notion away as if it were some form of taboo. "See, I kind of do... a little of everything. Mostly storm chasing, documenting tragedy that comes from natural disasters, war, poverty, so on. But that can all be so... sad. So I try to catch the things I think are beautiful too." He smiled, taking the camera to inspect it for damage. The lens wasn't cracked, or knocked loose, and the touchscreen display was fine. Thankfully---they were the most fragile.

Jillian stared up at him for a moment before smiling lightly. He was a slim man. Not scrawny, but not overly buff. He fit into his suit well. He had a creamy sort of skin tone, not tan but not pale. And his hair was black and short. He was obviously older than her, but he had a young face, albeit a little tired. She glanced back at his camera. "A storm chaser? Isn't that dangerous?" She asked with a small chuckled, "I'm surprised you're still around with such a job." At this point, Jillian had started to notice that most of the people who had stopped to stare at the fallen man, had continued with their daily lives. She glanced around the food court and then back at him.

She narrowed her eyes in thought, crossing her arms. "Well... As long as I get a copy... you can publish my photos if you'd really like to," She laughed out loud. It was a melodic sound that matched her singing voice, "Perhaps I'll become famous!" She took out her phone to give him her number, but as she looked down at the time, she realized that it was about time to get back to the hospital. She gasped lightly. "Oh shoot! I have to go! My-uh-...My... mom's in the hospital, too! And I promised her I'd be back to see her later!" Jillian offered her one final smile before grabbing her things and rushing past him. She stopped a few feet away and turned around, "My name's Jillian Parodi, by the way! It was nice to meet you, sir!"

And with that, she was gone, once again.

Ash laughed and brushed back the longer half of his hair. "Yeah, it's a little crazy, but I got the best equipment you can find. And a really heavy duty vehicle." His tank of a car that weighed an enormous amount could handle smaller roads because of its specially treated dual wheels, which could distribute weight while handling even the most vicious of twisters. He decided not get into technical talk, however, and simply checked his lens once more to make sure it hadn't cracked or come loose. It looked fine, as it had before, but his paranoia had him running a thumb over the smooth glass.

Grinning, he stood up straight. "Oh, that's great! I'll be sure to find you if I write a good story about you!" He glanced around. What could he use for the photos? Perhaps a young musician on her way up, a sweet young woman looking for a foothold in the world so more people could hear her wonderful voice and her fantastic guitar skills. She could probably make a beautiful country singer. He wanted to tell her, but she was running off in an instant, leaving her name. He opened his mouth, but paused too long, leaving him stranded without a way to respond. Sighing, he turned, tying the strap of the camera onto his belt as he left the opposite way.

Her mother... He doubted it but it wasn't his place to pry. If she didn't want to mention it, he had no reason to pry. Alton was a small town but it had plenty of people in it, so the chances of seeing her again were rather slim. He breathed in as he stepped into the heat, shaking off the idea of buying anything. Mention of the mother of the girl---Jillian Parodi, she said her name was---had gotten him thinking about his own. But returning to the hospital just wouldn't do until tomorrow. He wanted to be there before breakfast. He sighed and intended to head home, walking the long way around the mall to find his car.

"We can't let you go out today, Jillian. Your latest records showed some... unnerving reports. We want to keep you inside to keep your body healthy and keep you under a bit of watch."

Jillian stared at him and sighed softly. She nodded, not willing to fight on such a lovely day. Her eyes moved to look out the window as she sat up in her bed. She was half dressed to go out to the park today, and now... she had to stay inside. She sort of planned to get dressed anyway. Maybe they'd let her go down to the children's ward and sing to the kids? She stared out the window for a moment longer, still feeling the doctor's presence. She turned her head and looked at him, putting a bright smile on her face.

"Can I at least go visit the children?" She asked, "I'd love to be able to sing for them... they always seem to brighten when I do."

The doctor looked through his papers for a moment, pursing his lips as he thought of an answer. He finally looked up at her and nodded, agreeing to let her go. Since she couldn't go outside, it was the least he could do for her. After a moment of looking through his papers again, her left the room to her. She smiled and hopped out of betting, finishing getting dressed. She was wearing a pair of shorts and gladiator sandals. On her top was a floral denim vest and a white tank top. She pulled on her brown wig and smiled at herself in the full length mirror.

Jillian finally stepped out of the room and made her way to the top floor with her guitar case. In a room at the end of the hall, was a group of kids. They allowed the children to see each other so they got social contact on occasion. Nurses and mothers sat around talking and watching their kids as they played with the multiple toys around the room. Jillian smiled as she stepped in.

"Does anyone want to have a song circle?" She called out.

The children's head snapped up and smiled as they saw Jill at the door. They rushed to grab their little chairs and pull them into a circle. They had known her face from all the times she came up to sing for them. She pulled her own, too small for her body, chair and pulled it up to join them. She pulled out her Guitar and stared to strum on it softly.

"So, kids... What should we sing today?" She said, leaning forward slightly, as if to tell a story.

The kids yelled out song titles as Jillian smiled. Most of these kids were like her, stuck with a terminal illness. Most were cancer patients, too. Jillian knew how scary it was, but she couldn't imagine how much worse it was for a child. If she couldn't live, she at least hoped that they could. That some sort of miracle would happen to them. And if not, she wanted to be able to make them smile for their last days. With the song choice being Twinkle, Twinkle, Little star, she started singing, the children joining in with smiles and small laughs.

Suddenly he hated the house he grew up in. On little, shaded Greenwood street it was one of the more well-kept homes, with red shutters and a small front yard, a screened-in front porch. When he made it there, he found himself in such a familiar place, as he had for the past several days since coming back to town, but felt alone. The walls were a warm wood tone, the floor a dark burgundy carpet, and the chairs in the living room large and padded, each a deep leather tone. Straight back the shadowy dining room rested with china cabinets full of fifty-and-over-year-old items and pictures, and collections of delicate humming bird figurines on shelves. He had only touched the kitchen since arriving, and his old bedroom on the second floor. He felt hollowed out when he rested during the night, in the absolute silence, forced to hear the steady creaking of the old house. Come morning, he hadn't slept well at all, and decided to eat a bowl of cereal, then pop in a new memory card for his camera so the others were safe. His mother, since his father's death, had no computer, but it wouldn't have the software he needed anyway.

He left early enough, since he didn't recognize a couple of the neighbors and a few had been on the street since he was a child. Luckily he hadn't been stopped by any when he was coming or going, and he definitely didn't want to answer the questions of the old neighbors that were still on the street. He didn't want to bother being asked about his mother, detailing everything that had happened with her declining health. He managed to get to the hospital in just a few minutes, since it was so nearby, and found his mother awake. He felt a pang of relief as he entered, smiling, and settling on the plain chair beside the bed. "Hey, Mom. How're you feeling...?"

The woman studied him closely. "Ashley?"

Biting his lip, Ash breathed in. Was she already forgetting him? That tone didn't put him at ease. "Yeah, it's Ash. D-do you... remember?"

He got a nod in response and she put her head back. "I'm tired, Ashley..."

"You... should sleep, I guess..." Ash leaned forward. "Are---"

"They gave me some new medicine." Her voice was fading with sleep. "Makes me... tired..."

"Take a nap, Mom. I'll go for a walk later, okay?"

There was barely a nod of acknowledgment before she was breathing peacefully. Ash kept a hand on hers, squeezing gently, and watching the clock now and then. He was shooed out when a nurse had to take more tests and wake her to ask questions, so in the hall he wandered, eventually finding his way upstairs to the childrens' wards. Halfway down the hall where one of the playrooms resided, he paused when he heard a familiar sound. Guitar music. Peering in, Ash pursed a grin. The scene was too cute to pass up, and he took a photo of the circle. Of course the girl was Jillian, as she'd called herself yesterday.

"YOU! WITH THE CAMERA! GET OUT!" A mother suddenly yelled.

Heads snapped up to the door of the play room to stare at the man at the door. His camera had just came down from snapping the picture. Jillian looked up along with the kids, who, instinctively got up and ran to their mothers. Jillian stared at Ash for a moment, trying to decide on the action to take. Jillian jumped out of her chair and turned to look at the mothers with a nervous smile. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Please, don't be scared!" She explained, "He's harmless... he's... he's a family friend! He knows I play for patients and he's always wanted to document the moments! I just..." She turned to look at him, "Didn't know he'd be here today."

Some of the mothers gave skeptical glances toward one another and then looked back at Jillian to see what she'd do next. Jillian laughed softly and quickly put away her guitar. "I'll see you next time, kids, alright?" She said, "Keep your head up!" Jillian raised her brows as she grabbed her case and hurried out of the room, grabbing Ash's arm along the way. She pulled him into a near by hall way and turned to him.

Jillian sighed lightly, placing her guitar on the floor quickly. "You know..." She said, "You have a real way with making yourself look creepy while taking pictures." She crossed her arms and smiled up at him lightly. "Perhaps you should stick to hurricanes and tornado chasing. You'll look more badass and less creepy!"

Ash was startled, but shook his head and stared at the woman that had yelled. He didn't recognize her or a couple others, but the rest were giving the one that had exploded surprised and concerned looks. He raised a brow to Jillian. "Don't lie like that, most of the parents know me. I professionally photograph the childrens' wards and sometimes hold private shoots for anyone that wants a picture. The ones I take like this one are used in volunteer brochures and ads for donations since childcare is so cheap here." He sidled out of the room, however, with Jillian. "I guess some are new and don't exactly know me..." He added quickly, shrugging a bit.

"Besides, I'm not creepy at all!" He gestured to himself. As usual he was wearing closely-fitted black clothing. "I just look... like a shadow, that's all..." Ash glanced at his camera. "Anyway, you're certainly here early... I didn't expect to see you up here... weren't you... visiting your mother yesterday...? I hope she's well?" He tilted his head, not necessarily letting on that he'd seen through her rather hasty excuse to run off the day before. "Oh! And you ran off before I could tell you my name! Ash Carter." He offered a hand and bowed his head slightly in introduction.