'And I'd give up forever to touch you,
Cause I know that you feel me somehow.'
Matthew Berchack wasn't paying very much attention to the guitar he was playing, or the music he was singing. All of that was automatic, though no one, well no one except the others in the band, would be able to realize this. How could they not? They knew what was going on inside of his mind.
His fingers flicked quickly at the strings as his eyes searched the crowd. It was incredibly easy to play without thinking, he'd discovered. At least, after the songs had been rehearsed several times. Jack had made sure that they'd practiced a lot, too.
Vaguely, he heard the others behind him. Jack on bass, strumming the low-pitched, throbbing sounds. He'd have his head lowered, Matt knew, letting his not-quite-too-long hair fall over his forehead. Behind him, Butch was slamming the drumheads noisily, the ways the fans liked.
Out in front of the dimly lit stage, the 'fans', or, more correctly, the attendees of the café, grinned and cheered up at them. Some sang along with the music, some moved, some even danced on the floor in front, though Matt couldn't understand why. He'd never really gotten into dancing.
Though he heard and saw all of this, he didn't really pay attention. Everything seemed to be sort of hazy, as if he were looking through a dirt-crusted window and listening through a blockade of earwax. This wasn't because he was stoned, or even because he was sick. He simply had something else on his mind.
What he heard most clearly was a voice in his mind, a clear, sweet voice saying, "Look over there, Shadow."
What he saw most prominently was the image of the speaker. Swimming through his mind, her cat-like features, her emerald eyes, her auburn hair dominated his thoughts. In his mind he could see her sitting at the table with the other girl, her eyes fixed on him, her mouth fixed in a defiant, calm expression. He saw the black jeans she'd been wearing, the turquoise shirt.
He saw her hands wrapped around a glass of water, saw the way she sat in the low-backed chair. Saw the way she had looked at him as he had walked backstage with the guys. Saw himself look back at her with the same expression.
As he started into the last verse of their last song for the night, Matt found himself looking for her, trying to search her out of the people. Where was she? There were so many possible locations. He was sure he wouldn't find her; sure it'd be the end.
Matt didn't want that. The moment he'd looked at her, he'd known that he loved her. It seemed silly, romanticized. Love at first sight was only true in stories, right? It was foolish, a panel for the dreamer. As far as he knew, Matt had never been a dreamer.
Still, that look in her eyes. The way she sat at the table. Her voice. Hell, everything about her had called out to him in a way no girl ever had. He'd thought he loved a girl before, and it had always turned out fake.
This was different, though. These emotions were stronger, somehow clearer. Didn't that make all the difference in the world?
"You're being an idiot," he told himself. "You don't love her."
Maybe not… but he thought he did. He thought he did, and he wanted to find her, to talk to her. Maybe then he could confirm or allay the feelings. Maybe she'd turn out to be a bitch without a brain. But maybe… maybe…
He didn't want to hope, not really. Every love he'd tried before had failed, and what if this was the same? He'd wanted someone to love, but was it possible? Maybe love wasn't his deal.
Or maybe it was. Maybe this was his chance. Part of him understood this, though the rest denied it, and so he searched for her, his line of vision sweeping over the table. That wasn't her… Neither was that… There!
She was sitting at the same table, beside the other girl, the one with the black hair. Her eyes were fixed on his… or was that her imagination? No, it wasn't. She had been watching him, and now he was watching her.
Their eyes locked, and she smiled. He felt his face break into a smile. It sounded silly, felt silly, but he couldn't help it. As he finished the song, he kept the smile on, and kept his eyes on her.
As the band finished the song, Matt took his right hand off the guitar and waved, than grabbed the microphone. He did this in a daze, still watching the young woman. "Goodnight, ladies and gentlemen. We'll see you soon!"
It had been lame, but Matt didn't care. He had been speaking strictly from habit. As he turned around, he felt his body begin to turn back to the audience. At the same time, he felt an almost irrepressible urge to jump off the stage and run to the girl. Instead, he managed to make himself walk off, following Jack and Butch.
"Nice job, guys," he nodded when they were off.
"It was okay," Butch shrugged, leaning against a wall and shoving his hands into the pockets of his black jacket.
Another band walked past them, this one made up of two guys and two girls. Matt waved slightly to them, and heard Jack's joyful voice say 'Luck.' That was the thing about Jack… he seemed too cheerful for a bass player.
When the other band had passed and was getting situated, Jack turned his brilliant smile on Matt. "So, you gonna go talk to her?"
Completely startled by this, Matt almost denied it, though there was nothing to deny, really. Instead, he shrugged, trying to suppress his surprise. "How did you know?"
"C'mon, man," Jack elbowed him, and Matt simply rubbed his forehead, a sign that he was serious. "I mean, the way you two looked at each other before, and when we were onstage…" he broke off, leaving room for thought.
"I dunno," Matt shrugged, trying to restrain from shouting that he wanted to go talk to her, that he wanted to be able to love her. He was supposed to be sensible, and loving someone he'd never talked to wasn't sensible.
"Go on," Butch shoved a swatch of green hair away from his forehead. "You want to, don't you?"
Matt nodded. There was no use denying that, either, because Butch was right. Wasn't he always? People seemed to think that there was nothing to Butch, but there was. There was quite a lot there. Maybe even more than Matt guessed. "It just seems…"
"Silly? So what?" Butch spoke with a conviction many doubted he held.
"Yeah, so what…" Matt muttered, shaking his head.
Jack looked at them for a moment, and Matt realized that the guy was trying to say something helpful. "You'd better go before she does," he finally managed, with an expression that relayed that he hoped he'd said the right thing.
When Butch nodded in agreement, Matt looked at both of them, than nodded, too. "All right. I'll catch you guys later."
"Yeah," Butch muttered faintly as Matt started down the stairs.
As he towards the open door leading to the floor, his eyes automatically went to search for the girl. She was there somewhere… Had to be there…
In his concentration, he nearly ran into her.
'You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be,
And I don't want to go home right now.'
"Hello," the word jumped from his mouth, which he somehow managed to keep from hanging open.
She looked as if she were just as surprised as he was, than she smiled again. He immediately realized with that smile, and found that the tension from the shock passed when she spoke. "Hey there."
"You know you're, ah, not supposed to be back here." In his grasp for words, it was what Matt had come up with. As soon as it was out, he wanted to take it back. What kind of way was that to start anything?
"What exactly are you thinking of starting?" his mind mused. Matt pushed the question away.
"I know," the grin took on a slyness to it. "I was looking for you."
Matt felt his chest lock for a moment. So she was looking for him. He'd suspected that she was, but… Was it for the reason he hoped?
Never in his life had he felt such a burning hope. He wanted, needed her to have been looking for him. For her to want to talk to him. For her to want to love him as much as he wanted to love her.
"I was… looking for you… too," his words came out disconnected, and he had to struggle to get a grip on himself. What was wrong?
Okay, so he knew what was wrong. He loved this girl. No use denying it, because he could feel more strongly than he'd felt anything. This was a deep love, and it seemed to be growing deeper every second.
The girl nodded, than pointed to the door behind Matt, the one that led out to the back steps. "Can we go out there?"
He nodded, feeling as if he were in a dream, and reached over to open up the door. The cool doorknob turned beneath his hand, and then he shoved the door open, revealing the night sky, gleaming with stars.
After a moment's hesitation, he stepped outside. As he did, his head cleared enormously. The thoughts had sorted themselves out in the cool night air, forming into ideas that made sense, making comprehension possible. His mind was working right again, to his relief. Also, to his relief, the love was still there.
Relief? Was that right? Did he really want to love?
Well, yes… yes he did. But there was something in the back of his mind…
"So, you're Matthew Berchack," the girl had closed the door most of the way, leaving only a crack of the dark light to shine through as rough music began to float off of the stage.
"Yeah," he sat down on one of the cold, granite slabs that served as steps. She remained standing for the moment, looking down at him indecisively.
"She feels the same way I do," he thought, and wasn't surprised. After all, she was a human being too. She had her own emotions to deal with. Not many people accepted the idea of love at first sight… If, of course, that was the manner she was currently concerning herself with.
"What's your name?" he was relieved to find that he had control of his voice. It was once more solid, what he was sued to.
"Ginger Oak," she smiled that soft smile, than looked around again, as if something or someone would come out of nowhere.
"Want to sit?" he motioned to the open stone beside him.
For a moment he thought she wouldn't, and then she did, with what looked like a relief. Never had he felt so glad to be near someone. It was strange, so very strange, yet it was completely true. For that moment, he was satisfied with being where he was.
'And all I can taste is this moment.
And all I can breathe is your love.'
They sat on the step for a moment, staring up at the sky. Neither looked at the other, and Matt thought that seemed right. He knew that he was savoring the moment, and thought that maybe she was doing the same.
Well, savoring the moment and thinking. There was something about this that didn't seem right. Not just the love at first sight. There was something else, something eh didn't know.
That sounded stupider than anything he'd thought yet. At least, he was under the impression that it did. How could he not know something, and know that he didn't know it? It didn't even make sense!
A deeper part of him understood, though. That part knew that such things were possible had always been possible. It was not only a manner of belief, but of reality. As low as intuition, as high as psychic links. He didn't want to think about it, though, he wanted to talk to her.
He turned his head to her and watched her for a few seconds. Her eyes glittered in the moonlight, glowing with a ferocity that seemed right for her. When she turned her own head and looked at him, he managed his own smile. "So?"
She shrugged minutely. "I'm not sure."
"At least I'm not the only one," Matt's smile broadened a little.
"Yeah," Ginger laughed quietly. "Now we've got two people, head-over-heels for each other, who don't know what to say…" For a moment she paused and for some reason, Matt was terribly afraid she would say that she was joking, that she hated him.
Much to his relief, she said nothing of the sort. "Head-over-heels? I can't believe I said that. I'm starting to sound like my father."
This time he snickered. He didn't know her father, but it was funny. Nothing his own father would've said, but that wasn't much, since most of what his father had said had been slurred through alcohol or marijuana.
"Maybe you are, but you're right," he felt himself falling away in her eyes, those deep, green, sparkling eyes.
She laughed again, this time not so softly, and with more emotion. "Yeah… maybe I am."
Suddenly, on an impulse he never would've thought he would ever follow, he moved closer to her, until they were shoulder to shoulder. For a moment he didn't think it would be any good. In fact, he was sure that she'd push him away. When she didn't move away, he felt the relief settle again. When she leaned against him, he felt his heart sing.
"I love you," his voice sounded clear to his ears, though he wasn't sure how. He had remained calm, and that meant he felt it was true… But how?
"I love you too," her voice sounded as clear as his did, yet he could hear the unsure undertone in it. "It seems so strange, though. I never would've believed it."
"Yet it's true… it's all true," he nodded in confirmation of his own words.
Ginger muttered some distant subject. She had become far away for the time, though Matt didn't realize it.
"This is insane," he laughed subtly, but didn't mean it. Of course it wasn't insane. What could be insane about it? He loved her, she loved him. It was true, it was really true. For once, love at first sight was right.
At least, he hoped it was. The story of Romeo and Juliet came to mind, and he whisked it away abruptly. There wasn't room for shit like that. After all, it was fictional. "Didn't 'fictional' love at first sight come true?" his mind whispered in an irritating, thin voice. "Didn't it?"
For the time, eh shut it up. That wasn't worth worrying about. Instead, he turned his mind back to Ginger, who had been silent. "Ginger…?
There was no response for a moment. When she spoke, it was in a decidedly reluctant tone. "I love you, Matt, crazy as it is. And because I do… there's something I have to tell you."
'And sooner or later it's over,
I just don't wanna miss you tonight.'
Matt's mind rushed through dozens of different versions of what it was that Ginger was about to tell him. She had a boyfriend. She was married… hell, she could be, she wasn't old, but she wasn't a kid. She'd made some sort of vow. She was going to kill herself. She had some life-threatening disease.
Once he managed to regain control of these thoughts, however, he shoved them away. No use looking over them when he could sit and wait for her to tell him herself. She was looking at him with a torn expression, and he felt a deep pity enter into him, heightening the extent of his love for her.
"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," he reassured, not liking the pain on her face at all. It hurt him to see it there. Strange. He'd just met her, and already he hurt for her.
The young woman shook her head. "No… I have to do this."
He nodded in understanding. There was something he'd have to tell her, after all. If she was going to tell something she didn't want to, than he'd tell her his own dark secret.
Dark, oh yeah, it was dark. Maybe even that was an understatement. He didn't feel bad about it, for him it was life. An everyday sort of thing. Something he accepted, that he believed in.
Most people said it was bad. He didn't honestly believe that, but oh well for him. Whatever most people wanted was the only 'good' way. Wasn't society amazing?
Maybe she wouldn't. Maybe she'd look at him and tell him she hated him. Maybe she'd even go for the police. And then, oh shit, then he'd have to…
No, he couldn't think of that. He couldn't do it either, that much he knew. Anyway, it hadn't happened yet. There was no use in worrying about it. He had to get a grip on himself. He'd never been so damned stressed out before.
Ginger suddenly reached out and grabbed his wrist with a strength that seemed almost frantic. "Matt… before I tell you, please promises me you won't do anything… rash. Please."
The need in her eyes was as deep as his felt, and he felt a connection with her. "Of course I promise," he nodded, unsure of what it could be. After all, could her secret be anything as bad as his?
She choked as she tried to begin and looked at him sheepishly. After clearing her throat, she tried again. "I work for Team Rocket."
'And I don't want the world to see me,
Cause I don't think that they'd understand.'
Matt gaped at her. For what seemed like forever he could do nothing but stare at her. He saw her body tense, saw her ready herself to spring up and leap away. He didn't blame her.
The Rockets. A large group of criminals, the most famous, or infamous, of the organized crime groups. Known worldwide for their divisions of thievery, torture, and murder, they'd gotten a reputation for being just plain bad, in the eyes of society.
As he stared at her, he realized that he had never expected it, though maybe he should've. Not thinking could bring trouble, and a lot of it.
Still, he hadn't guessed. Hadn't known that she was a Rocket, and wouldn't have if she hadn't told him. If her trust hadn't been strong…
That struck him, and he managed to control himself enough to close his mouth and grip her wrist with the hand she wasn't holding. For a moment she jerked backwards, but he shook his head.
"Matt… please…" her eyes were wide with fear, though he had a feeling that she knew he wouldn't do anything terrible.
"Ginger… Ginger, stop," his voice was cool, the way it was when he was trying to regain control of a situation. She did calm down immediately, and he nodded. "Look, you've told me something, now I've got something to tell you."
Her eyes relayed a love that was unbroken, and he was glad. She was afraid, but that hadn't killed anything. Now it was his turn to talk.
His secret had remained hidden from everyone not affiliated with it since as long as he could remember, but that didn't matter now. If she could talk to him, than he could talk to her.
It occurred to him that she was a cop, that she was playing with his mind. Maybe she was searching for criminals. Those thoughts were dismissed as soon as they appeared, as he knew full well that they weren't true at all.
Attempting a smile that felt unbelievably awkward, he took in a mouthful of air, than spoke slowly. "It's almost funny that you're a Rocket… because I'm an Agonist."
'When everything's meant to be broken,
I just want you to know who I am.'
Now it was Ginger's turn to stare in shock, and he didn't blame her. He loosened his grip on her wrist and felt her hand leave his. They looked at each other, both trying to make sense of everything, both trying to understand.
The Agonists were the only organized crime group that could even begin to compete with the Rockets. They weren't as well known to most of the world, but were almost as infamous as the Rockets to other groups. They'd never gotten along well, as was expected. How could different crime organizations agree?
Matt again thought of Romeo and Juliet. It fit so well that the humor eluded him. Their families had been enemies. The Montegue family and the Capulet family, those infamous assholes.
Now it was Matt and Ginger, with the Agonists and the Rockets. Only they'd be killed openly if anyone found out what happened. They were criminal groups, not just rivals with too much time on their hands. Of course, they also had guns, instead of swords.
They stared at each other, and he saw, to his fear, that there was a blank look in her eyes. He couldn't read them at all, and suddenly he wanted to see some emotion, one way or the other. Because he still loved her. The revelation hadn't changed that in the least bit.
"Ginger… I love you…" his voice now sounded thick and, despite what several nerves yelled at him, he wrapped his arms around the young woman and embraced her.
'And you can't fight the tears that ain't comin',
Or the moment or truth in your lies.'
When she looked at him, he saw with a spurt of joy that the love was still shining in her eyes. "I love you too," she hugged back, and they sat together like that for minutes which Matt lost track of.
All he really wanted, he realized, was to be with her. He really did love her, and felt that sitting on the step holding her was the best time of his life. It was what he wanted, it was true love. No denying it, no going back, Romeo and Juliet or not.
There was so much in the way of their love, though. The Rockets and the Agonists, shit, there couldn't have been worse enemies. He half-expected agents to burst in shouting insults in Shakespearean language.
"Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?" Ginger's shaky voice added to the effect eerily.
It was so much to think about, so much to feel on the mind. It pressed at him firmly, laughing and weeping at the same time. How much could their love take? Could they take it at all? Would it have to end after one night?
Neither of them cried; it was unnecessary. For his part, Matt never had. He doubted that Ginger did much, either. "It isn't something the criminal does regularly," he thought spitefully.
Who would've thought that this would happen? Two agents from different sides falling in love and revealing that they worked for enemies. It seemed unreal, and yet it seemed true.
They'd told each other what was secret. He knew he never would've told anyone else, and had an idea that she wouldn't have, either. The world was a web of lies, and they had told each other the truth…
Ginger was smiling weakly at him. "What?" he asked, not dreading a down response, knowing that it couldn't be.
"I can't let this go."
'When everything feels like the movies,
And ya bleed just to know you're alive!'
"Neither can I," Matt nodded in agreement, marveling at how unreal it all seemed.
This was pure Hollywood, wasn't it? The unlikely pair falls in love, finds out that they cannot be together, than vows to stay together forever, no matter what. It was purely for the film, and yet…
Yet it all felt true. Hell, it all WAS true. Life was one strange bitch, and here she'd thrown the both of them quite a bit to deal with. Unfortunately, the bit had been screwed over before she'd given it to them.
"Nothing comes without cost," his mind muttered, though the phrase went straight out of his mind.
All he knew was that he wouldn't be able to stay away from her, and that he wouldn't let her die. No matter what he got down to, he knew that he would stick with her… Because the love was strong. Because it would let him soar.
Everything he'd heard about the wonders of love were true, it seemed. So maybe the downsides were. The way it could be broken by interference. The way it could fall apart if there were people set against it.
Matt really, honestly didn't care about that. He didn't think it mattered to him, after all. There was a simple, easily explainable reason for this, too. They wouldn't let it fall apart. They'd keep it strong. There was love, and there was strong resolve. It would bind them together.
Ginger was looking at him, the same resolve he was thinking of shining in her eyes. "We won't let it get us down, will we?"
Matt shook his head resolutely. "No… no way. Nothing can break us apart…"
"Because we have love and resolution," Ginger leaned her head against his shoulder, and he ran his finger through her silky hair, marveling at the smooth texture, at how the light fell over it randomly, yet beautifully.
"Exactly," he nodded. "We'll work it out. Somehow, we'll work this out."
'And I don't want the world to see me,
Cause I don't think that they'd understand.
When everything's meant to be broken,
I just want you to know who I am.'
Straightening up again, Ginger tilted her head slightly. "But how? It sounds wonderful, but how can we do it?"
Matt shook his head in a short, calculated gesture. "I'm not sure… right now. I mean, we can meet here, but that'll only work for so long, and…" he paused, searching for the right words.
"And secret love never stays secret for long," Ginger finished, nodding. "How true… and saddening."
He nodded again. "Damn all of this."
"It won't help," Ginger managed a small smile. Matt attempted to make one, but was unable. Smiling wasn't his specialty.
They couldn't let anyone know about this. Well… Maybe he could tell Butch. Jack would probably slip somewhere. He was a good guy, but had a habit of running his mouth. Butch would keep quite. Good ol' Butch.
That was one person, though, and probably the only Agonist who would understand. He had a feeling that Ginger's situation was similar, and that the girl who had been sitting with her would be a confidant. Why not? Romeo and Juliet, his mind churned.
"We can keep it a secret for as long as possible," he nodded slowly, though there was really nothing to agree to. "And from there we'll figure it out. We'll make it work… and nothing with poison or knives."
This had been intended to be a joke, but neither of them laughed. It wasn't really funny… not from their standpoint. Instead, it chilled him to the bone. "Please, don't let it be true," he thought, grasping for some feeling…
No, it wouldn't be. Something told him it wouldn't. Ginger wouldn't die, thank God, wouldn't kill herself. They wouldn't let it come down to that. He'd participate in a solo shootout versus the whole of the Agonist team before he let anything happen to Ginger.
'And I don't want the world to see me,
Cause I don't think that they'd understand.
When everything's meant to be broken,
I just want you to know who I am.'
"They can't break us," Ginger's voice was confident, sure of itself. Her eyes were shining again, and Matt was relieved.
"No, they can't," he agreed, placing an arm around her shoulder. She leaned against him readily, and he felt his soul soar.
"We've got something they can't take. Our love is ours alone, and if we want it badly enough, we can keep it," there was a fire in her voice, one Matt found almost awing. "You want it as badly as I, right?"
"Of course," he spoke quickly, wanting to hear her voice, that voice which he knew he'd be hearing even when she was away from him.
"We'll keep it, and we won't perish. We'll find away. It may sound stupid, but this whole thing does," she made a sweeping motion with her left arm, indicating the whole of what had happened. "We'll stay together."
Incredibly, Matt knew that it was true. They'd be able to stay together. Maybe it was just airy talk by those in love, but it seemed true. They'd keep their love.
'And I don't want the world to see me,
Cause I don't think that they'd understand.
When everything's meant to be broken,
I just want you to know who I am.
I just want you to know who I am.
I just want you to know who I am.
I just want you to know who I am.'
Ginger suddenly rose, though she appeared reluctant to do so. "I have to go…" she looked at the watch on her wrist, than nodded in confirmation. "They'd miss me eventually."
Matt nodded, standing up beside her. She was right, and he'd probably be missed, too. Maybe not soon, but eventually. Besides, the sooner he walked back, the more likely the story he planned to tell Jack, the one where Ginger had supposedly just laughed and walked away, would be easier to enforce. He had to get him to believe that nothing happened.
"We'll meet again soon," Matt spoke firmly, in the calm voice he had grown used to hearing. "Here."
"All right. Tomorrow?" Ginger's eyes were hopeful.
Matt shook his head. No, tomorrow wouldn't work, as much as he knew he'd want to see her again. It was too much too soon. "In three days."
He didn't like the sound of it, didn't like how the three days suddenly seemed to stretch in front of him forever. Three days without Ginger seemed an eternity, yet it was necessary. Their love couldn't be broken, but it had to be cautious.
Ginger was nodding. She understood, at least that much was true, and he was glad for it. She didn't want to wait, but she wasn't stupid. "All right, three days," she stepped forward and embraced him.
He held that moment to him, telling himself to remember. It was a moment he'd never forget. The stars shining high above in the clear, eternally deep blue sky. The almost unnoticeable wind trickling past them. The cool air settling around them. The faint sounds of people laughing, car horns, and music floating from a place outside of the back lot.
Most of all, he remembered being with Ginger. Remember the faint smell of coconut spray, the smooth feel of her hair. He would remember her green eyes, gleaming with love and vitality, forever. He'd carry the feeling that he was above the world, that he was on a level of consciousness unknown to others, with him always.
As he was feeling, as he was taking it all in, he placed his hands on the sides of her head, than drew his face to hers. When they kissed, he found that there was more to their love than even he had imagined. He never would've imagined this happening, yet there he was. And he loved her.
When they released each other, neither wanting to, both knowing they had to, they simply gazed into each other's eyes for a moment. He felt his steel gray eyes lock with her emerald green ones, and at that moment felt that they were connected, that they understood each other.
"Goodbye, Matt," Ginger reached for the doorknob, turning it.
"Three days," he repeated as she opened the door. He hated to see her leaving, wanted her to stay so damn badly!
"Three days," she nodded, and he noticed that her voice had become choked. "Until then, Matthew Berchack."
Then she was gone, lost in the darkness that protruded from the café. He knew he'd see her again, yet he had to fight the urge to rush in and call her back, maybe to just follow her.
He fought it, though. He couldn't be rash, couldn't let it get him in trouble. Instead of rushing after her, he forced himself to turn around, to look back upon the dark sky with its bright stars.
Lost in his thoughts, his love, his confusion, Matthew Berchack sat down on the steps, this time alone. He'd see her soon, but it seemed like forever. It wasn't, he'd see her, but he wanted to tell her again that he loved her.
Impossible, but he couldn't keep it in. He loved her, he loved her, he loved her. "I love you, Ginger Oak," he spoke into the clear night, his voice cutting through it cleanly. "I love you until the end and beyond."