What She's Made Of (Castle)

Change of Plans

I was sitting in my last class on Wednesday, when someone from behind me leaned forward and said, "This is for you." the guy handed me a paper and it had 'Olivia' scribbled on it. I recognized it as Harper Rowan's handwriting. She was one of the most popular people in the sophomore class, and surprisingly...she was kinda friends with me. I was kinda friends with a lot of people. I opened the paper under my desk. My teacher is really against passing notes in class, yet he doesn't care when we have our phones out in class.

I looked down and read the paper. "I'm having a party at my house tonight 5-Midnight. Prepare to Party Hard!" the paper said, including her address. I didn't have anyone tying me down tonight. I leaned back to see Harper and mouthed, "I'm in!". Harper smiled and mouthed back, "Awesome!" I started thinking about what to wear tonight. Harper always had these elaborate parties and the pictures she posted always had people in party clothes.

I knew I had a black crop top with cap sleeves, then my neon yellowy-green skater skirt the came a little above my mid-thigh. I could pair that with my black heels and could put my hair back. I hadn't been to one of Harper's parties before, but knew that the next day...everyone would be talking about it. I had heard from a few people about last year's New Year's party. Apparently there were two seniors making out and having sex in one of the bedrooms.

That was the thing about Harper. She didn't live in an apartment. She lived in a giant-ass penthouse! Which is like is pretty much a mansion on top of an apartment building for all of you who don't live in the city. As I finished my though, the bell rang. We let out of school at 2:45. It took fifteen minutes to get to the hotel...I had less than two hours to get ready for Harper's party.

I pretty much race-walked to the hotel I was staying at. I wanted to avoid all opportunities of seeing Beckett. She couldn't find me by looking up recent history of my name though. According the hotel, I was Avery Thompson. It was my mother's name and her friend Jennifer's last name. I got to the hotel and threw my stuff down on the bed. I checked my phone. 47 notifications from Beckett and 23 from Castle. I declined them all and went to my music. I started blasting my favorite songs in the room.

I got out of my school clothes and changed into my party outfit. When I was changed, I looked in the mirror, and I thought I looked amazing. I started curling my hair and then pulled it back in a high pony-tail. I turned a few times and was pleased with how everything looked. I grabbed my black heels and pushed them on my feet. I was one of those people who could wear heels for their whole life...and be perfectly fine with it.

I had thirty minutes before I had to start walking to Harper's. I decided to read the texts that Beckett had sent. Most of them consisting of, 'Please come back.', 'I'm sorry, I didn't mean it.', and 'Can we please talk?'. I just wanted everything to be done. I started thinking about how I was reacting with everything. One minute I would be fine and being nice to her and shit. Next minute, I was ready to jump her! I thought about it a minute...was I bipolar? Or have multiple identity disorder?

I opened my laptop and typed in my symptoms. 'mood swings, moments of rage then kindness, trust issues' and a few others. I was given four different diagnosis'. Either I was pregnant, bipolar, on my period, or had multiple identity disorder. I knew I wasn't pregnant. I hadn't started my period yet, thank God. So, I was let with two options. I felt so bad. I was a bitch to Beckett, she opened up her home to me, she was comforting me when I was scared...and I left her.

I had to resist the urge to call her and tell her I was sorry. I wouldn't, I had to make sure I was right first. I then got a notification on my phone. It was an email from the guy who needed those dancers. The email said that he needed the dancers sooner. There was a flight arranged for the dancers in two hours. I would be flying out of the New York City airport at 7:35 tonight.

I kind of went into a panic. I had to go to that. I checked my bag really quick, to see if I would be good to go. I had everything I would need. I decided I would just have to leave now. I put all of my stuff back into my bag and then changed into something I could fly in, which was my yoga pants and sweatshirt with my Converse. I printed my ticket really quick and looked at the time. I had to go to the airport now!

I went downstairs and checked out of the hotel. I waited outside the hotel and hailed a taxi. I told the driver that I needed to go to the airport immediately. He said he understood and drove me there as fast as possible.  I had to make a quick decision.  I had to call Beckett.  I didn't care if I was still half-mad at her...I had to let her know.  I opened her number in my contacts and it rang two times before she answered.  "Liv?!  Oh my God, Liv I am so sorry.  I didn't know you felt that way about what I said.  I'm so sorry.  Please come back Liv.  Where are you?" Beckett said in a panic.  

"I'm in a taxi, on my way to the airport.  The dancers were called in early.  I have to go there.  I'll be in Chicago by midnight.  I'm sorry too.  I'm sorry for lashing out at you, but I think I might be bipolar or have multiple identity disorder.  I'm working on a diagnosis.  So, I'm sorry too.  It isn't your fault.  It's all what goes on in my head.  I'll call you when I get to Chicago." I told her.  Before she could say anything else, I hung up.

I had said what needed to be said.  I was done with everything.  Huh, all I wanna be is done! Oh my God, The Band Perry you have given me lyrics for days.  The driver dropped me off at the airport and I went into the building and waited for my flight, and when it was time.   I boarded and took off.

Kate's POV

She just hung up on me.  I felt so bad for her.  I had the bad feeling she was bipolar too.  She had constant mood swings and also seemed to have an inkling of multiple identity disorder.  I can't believe that just like that she was gone.  Then the detective in me kicked in.  She randomly got this email yesterday that a concert needed dancers and today the date was moved up today.  

Oh no...

I got on my laptop and started looking at Liv's history.  She needed a better password for her email, I could get into her account within a minute.  I saw all the emails that were from 'Dave Rydan'.  As I looked at only one email, I knew this wasn't the real Dave Rydan.  He worked with professional dancers, not young teenagers.  Hey, I watch 'Dancing With The Stars', but oh God please no.  I didn't want to accept this.  

I started cross-checking the emails with other people and came to the terrifying conclusion.  This guy, posing as Dave Rydan...was the same guy who did the shooting when Liv was younger.  Only he had escalated.  He was getting the girl that he could have killed and was toying with, and now...he was also a registered pedophile.  I had to act fast.  I called everyone and told them to meet me at the precinct in twenty minutes.  We had to get to Chicago immediately.

Olivia had been cat-fished by a psychotic pedophile that had her in his sights for years.