Here's the story for this ambience since it was too long for spotify

IMPORTANT: I do not claim this writing because half of it is from Euphoria's dialogue which is none of my work. I am merely working off of it. Everything Jules is Euphoria's, and everything else is mine. Hope you enjoy :)

~~~the story~~~

You're sitting on the beach next to her, bathing in the sun. Up till now you had been hearing sounds but not quite listening because she’s beautiful in this light. But her tone has taken on something more serious, so you shake yourself out of it and tune in.

“...like unreachable. But then, I think about beautiful things that are also broad and deep and thick and I think of something like the ocean. I think like,” she smiles at the seafoam curling around her fingers, “that I wanna be as beautiful as the ocean. Cause the ocean is as strong as fuck. And feminine as fuck. And both are what make the ocean the ocean. My grandmother used to work by the ocean. And uh, when we would go visit, we would go down to the beach. And I would close my eyes, and I would just swim. And swim and swim and it wouldn’t matter where I was going.” she rubs her shoulders, “Sometimes I pray to the ocean. At least for me, being trans is spiritual, it’s not religious, it's not for some…congregation. It’s for me. It’s mine. It belongs to me. And I don't ever want to stand still. Like, I want to be alive.”

Her feet pat the water, an aimless action that tells you that she’s done talking, and it might be good  if you said something right about now.

“I don’t want to say ‘I’m sorry’, Jules, but that's all I can offer. Because I don’t even know what ‘I’m sorry’ means these days. These days, it seems to lack meaning, value. I wish it wasn’t so…light. And unsatisfactory. Like a placeholder for awkward moments where emotions and souls can’t seem to connect. I wish it were more. So I don’t want to say ‘I’m sorry’, even though I feel a deep emotion for you. All I’ll say is that I’m tired. I’m tired of all this drama. I’m tired of life, too. But when I’m with you, life is rejuvenating. And I realize that ‘life’ is actually the unsatisfactory placeholder, but people like you are the ones that add meaning to it, add value to it.” You scoot closer to her. She stares. “But maybe I’m wrong. ‘I’m sorry’--though unsatisfactory– is also essential. It’s translatable. Because in every language, there is an expression for this deep emotion. And it’s just the tipping point for more. So, with courage, I’m sorry, Jules. I just don’t want to fight with you anymore.”

“I don’t want to fight with you, either,” she says.

“And I’m sorry I’ve been so anxious lately, I promise you that I’m gonna get help.”

She shakes her head, and brings you in for a hug. She smells like vanilla and seaspray. “I’m sorry, I get it. I love you. I really do.”

“I love you, too,” you whisper. You mean it. Whatever it means to you guys.

She backs up a little to get a good look at you. She brushes the hair out of your face, “You’re a mess, you know that?”

You both laugh. But then she goes silent and rests her forehead on yours.

“I hate everyone else in the world but you,” she says quietly under the waves, just enough for you to hear.

You take a deep, deep breath and ever so slowly exhale. Jules’ breath goes down the bridge of your nose and onto your lips, and for the first time,  it really does feel like the darkest of clouds are finally rolling away.

Timestamp - 00:10

"School is awful." That was what you would say to yourself everyday before you met Nick Nelson. Now, school is still awful, but there's someone there to help make it less so. And he's sitting in your favorite spot during the lunch period: the art room.

"Hey," said Nick.

"Hi," you say back, sitting down.

"You sure your friends don't mind you ditching them to have lunch with me?"

"Yeah, I mean it doesn't really matter because we're ditching everyone  anyways."
"Oh really? So thats what this is actually all 'bout then?"

"Yeah," you blush. You've been so excited to escape school early to hang with him, you've completely forgotten to feel remorse for it.

Nick sighs thoughtfully, "Feels nice to be able to ditch my friends for once."

"Yeah?"

"All they want to do at lunch is sit on the field and chuck stuff at people."

"Chuck stuff?"

"Yup, mainly Harry. He's an idiot. My friends are nothing like you."

Your heart squeezes.  You'd say that's the nicest thing anyone's said about you, but that would be even sadder so you keep it to yourself and dig into your baby carrots and ranch.

"Are we even allowed in here?" asks Nick.

"Yeah, before when the bullying was really bad, my teacher would always let me eat in here. It's just nicer. And he's really nice as well."

"Well, he was giving me evils before you came in here."

"Oh, yeah? He's harmless, promise. Besides, we'll be out of here soon. On a real date." You bump shoulders with him.

"We should," Nick says, nodding, "I'd like that."

The two of you continue eating until the bells rings. But you guys don't go back to class. After the halls empty, you two escape to start your date.

Timestamp:  19:11

The first stop--milkshakes and ice cream, or whichever one you preferred. Personally, you preferred milkshakes, and to your surprise, so did Nick. It felt validated in a way to hear that. Like it was just right the two of you were spending time together.

"This is disgusting," you put the milkshake down, wiping your mouth with a napkin.

"I cannot believe you're disrespecting the bubble gum flavor in front of me. Let me try yours." Nick takes a small sip at first which he then prolongs to a longer sip. When he comes back for air, his face is stunned. "Wow."

"Yep," you say, pleased with herself.

"We should swap."

"What? No, it's mine!" You laugh reaching for it back.

"Okay well, we can share," he says, reaching for another straw and sticking it i, "We are on a date."

"We are, aren't we?" You smile up at him."
"Yeah." He smiles back.

Timestamp: 26:29

After a few hours at the park, the two of you go back to your room to do some homework. You both lie on the floor, stomachs flattened, jogging down notes. You look up to gaze at Nick Nelson. He's adorable when he's so focused. His hair adorable the way it falls over one side of his forehead. His sweater adorable the way it seems to fit Nick and not the other the way around...Nick looks up, and you feel blood rush to your cheeks and turn away.

"What?" he asks.

"Nothing."

"You're staring."

"No I wasn't."

"Yeah, you were." Nick laughs, sitting up. He scooches closer to you and your body automatically reacts to scooch closer as well.
"You know," he says, "I was talking to Tara at the rehearsal today. You heard she came out, right?"

"Yeah, I saw it on her insta--."

"I told her that we're together," he says.

"What?"

"I told her we're going out."

He looks frightened, but you will never understand why because this is the greatest news you'd ever heard. His worried face hasn't gone away and you realize it's because you haven't said anything. With your mouth agape, turning into a smile, you tackle him with the biggest hug. "You're amazing, Nick Nelson."

Timestamp: 37:37

You got a text. From Ben. Something about meeting him outside school, even though school was about to end. You thought it'd be insane if he was really there, but lo and behold, the devil spoke the truth. For once. 

You somehow convinced Nick to come along without really telling him why, but you couldn't just leave him back at your house. 

Nick waits outside while you "go inside to pick something up that you forgot about."

Ben wanted nothing but to return to the old ways, ways you've moved on from for weeks upon months now. He tried to reach for you but you dodge and suddenly Nick was at your side, giving Ben the biggest shove of his life to the floor. Scurrying off like a rat, it's the last time you seen Ben for a long time.

"Are you okay?" asks Nick.

"How much of that did you hear?" You keep your head down to hide the flush in your neck and cheeks. You clench your hands to avoid the shaking.

"Most of it."

"Why did you follow when I said to wait?"

"I just--you seemed like something was up while we were getting changed so I wanted to see if everything was okay."

"I'm sorry," 

Nick puts his hand on your shoulder, "You have nothing to be sorry about."

"Sorry."

Nick lets out a small laugh, "You say sorry a lot."

You open your mouth, but Nick puts up a finger. "Don't say it."

"I really want to--"

"Don't!" he laughs. "We should get out. We'll get locked out if we stay much longer."

"Yeah,"

Nick holds out his hand for you. You hold it and hold it tight as the two of you run down the halls out of this hellscape. You spend the rest of the day together, hand in hand. 

Timestamp: 00:08

You run downstairs at the sight of his headlights and open the door before he can even knock. You stand there, staring at him in awe.

“Hey,” he says, his eyes still white from shock, “Happy almost Halloween.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I know I’m not supposed to be here, but I'm here,” he stammers, looking around as if he could hide from the eyes of God, “I brought candy.” He lifts a small plastic bag. It’s small and has your favorites so the quality is over the quantity. But you haven’t said anything because a million things are going through your head.

Conrad is anxious. “D–do you want me to go?”
“No–” you say a little fast but catch yourself and slow down. “I just…can’t believe you’re here.”

“Um, I wanted to see you..so,”

Your heart aches at the sight of him, but when you close your eyes, the echoes of another’s image flashes and twists your stomach into knots. “I’m just thinking…about Jere.”

He ducks his head. “Right. No, I know you –you're worried about Jere but I had a chance to talk to him and he’s doing really good, actually. He's going on dates. You know, he’s been on this high ever since he's been made homecoming king.”
“So he’s doing well?” 

“Yeah, I think he is.”
Is “thinking” enough? Is it enough instead of “knowing?” Can you take the risks this time without hurting anyone?

“I thought…you know this was–” You gesture to the two of you. Over.

He takes one step up your porch so he just meets your eyes. “I don’t think I could ever get over you. I mean, I’m not. I’m here.”
It’s not enough. You keep looking at him with sadness and guilt.

“Whenever I talk to you, I'm just happy. And I gotta say standing in front of you right now it’s torture not being able to kiss you.”
Well. He’s spoken his mind. It’s your turn now. 

But you can’t speak. So you take his face in your hands and kiss him as hard as you can. He melts into you and you turn to honey. All his waiting, all your yearning, collapsing together into one fold. And you just know that this is a moment in life worth working for. It has made all the effort worth it. 

After embracing, the two of you get in his car and head towards Cousins Beach with the radio on and the thought of yesterday turned off.

Timestamp: 21:45

The two of you have arrived at the beach faster than you thought, perhaps that was the anxiety speeding time forward for you. A good anxiety though. One that is hopeful and ready to make jumps that possibly turn into flights.

Conrad grabs your hand and you run with him to the water. After getting into a small water fight, you both began walking.

After a few minutes of catching your breath from the adrenaline, you look up at him and burst out laughing when you see he’s already been looking at you.

“You know, you have the prettiest smile I've ever seen,” he says, “Your whole face just lights up. I’ve been wanting to say that to you all summer.” That should be the most embarrassing thing you’ve ever heard, but it’s too late now. Conrad Fisher has made your heart beat for the first time in forever and you feel like smiling. So that’s what you do.

But then there’s another flash, another twist, another knot. Your smile cracks and your eyes drop. “Um, I have to tell you something.”

Conrad is still smiling. “Okay, what is it? Spit it out.”

“A couple of weeks ago…Jeremiah told me he liked me.”

The smile fades. “Oh. Wow, okay. So what did you say?” He is genuinely curious and non-threatening so you feel okay saying the next few words.

“I said I liked him back…But this was long ago, and you had completely closed me off. I thought there was no chance for us anymore. And I was vulnerable. And he was there.”

He’s not looking at you anymore. “So, um, when we both came to pick you and Taylor up on the side of the road, and you went with Jere, were you both already…”
“Yeah.”
“Okay.”
You grab his arm to stop him. “Conrad, I’m so sorry. I feel terrible and it was a mistak–”

“I’m sorry, I'm sorry. It’s all my fault.”

“It’s my fault as well. I…got confused with what I really wanted last summer and it tainted my relationship with Jere and you.”

He looks up. “You want to be with me?” It's a simple question, matter-of-fact, and also the easiest task you've ever faced.
“I’ve only ever dreamed of being with you.”

“That’s great,” he squeezes your hand, “Be with me then. What, is that funny?”
You’re laughing. It is funny. Funny and delirious how easily he just says that now when it’s only ever been said in your dreams. Now it’s for real?

“Yes, I’m laughing. Everyone at Cousins knows I’ve had a crush on you since forever.”

He puts his hands out cautiously, “Wait wait wait wait–you have a crush on me?”

You punch him in the shoulder and laugh with him, “Stop that.”

Then a serious air floats around him, “y/n, you’re it for me.”
“But Jere…”

“Look, I'll talk to him. He might not even be that upset. You know, it’s Jere. He never takes anything too seriously. It’s not..it’s not like how it is with us.”

“Nothing is like us.” You smile and stand up on your tip-toes to kiss him. “Nothing ever will be.”

You spend the rest of the night until sunrise on the beach with Conrad Fisher and while the ocean spray and breeze is frigid and numbing, it’s warm and buzzing in his arms.