PACIFICA POV

At seven o'clock in the morning, I woke up to the sound of my extremely loud alarm clock beeping in my ear. I abruptly got up and pressed the button to silence the digital clock, I refuse to wake up to the sound of a bell. I placed my feet on the old wooden floor, with splinters coming out from the ends of the nailed boards, and stretched by bringing my arms the farthest they could reach and nowhere near meeting the eight foot ceilings with small rain leaks and mold. Peeling off the drawstring shorts and tank I wear for bed, I'm left with only my fifty-fifty polyester and cotton panties. Without haste, I place my B-cup cream bra with lace trim over my breast. Completing my getting dressed ritual, I tug a Mystery shack t-shirt over my head and pull on some jeans that ended at my mid-thigh, and made my butt look great, finishing the look with a centered ponytail with wisps of blonde hair, too short to be held back, framing my face; not that it bothered me.

One of my favorite, and arguably the most satisfying, feeling was having hair in my face, which was why I'm so fond of my bangs; they provided privacy and a sense of security and even more so now. My bangs have grown past my eyebrows and nearly disabled me of sight, giving me the chance to experiment with different bang styles; recently I've been fond with bringing my bangs a bit to the side.

I looked at my reflection in the simple full-length mirror and smiled at my designated, yet unofficial, uniform as I completed the look with my nametag over my left breast.

"I love Saturdays…"

Taking my phone off the charger, I looked for notifications regarding a certain Pines boy: none. With a brief sigh, I put my phone in my back pocket and strolled out of my room that was once Dipper and Mabel's and happily went down the staircase while humming a tune I made up last week while playing piano for 'Grunkle' Ford. He always enjoyed my riffs and would more than once ask me to play something when he, 'Grunkle' Stan, and I would normally converse after eating dinner at the small table next to the cobblestone wall.

After the whole Weirdmageddon situation, from six years ago, I began to live with the Pines brothers, since my family lost all prosperity and were put in jail for child abuse, tax evasion, federal libel, and even illegal trade… along with hate and resentment from the entirety of the Gravity Falls population. The two took me in before child services could relocate me and send me to an orphanage, and soon became my legal guardians. Through those six years we became a family, with Soos posing as my lovable, fully supportive brother and Wendy as my, in the beginning skeptical, but eventually role model and overly protective older sister.

However, when I was fifteen, only two years after I was living with them Soos proposed, with quite a bit of help from me, to Melody who always had my stamp of approval. Shortly after, they got married and had a small wedding where Wendy was the Maid of Honor and I was a bridesmaid. To my joy, both Dipper and Mabel attended; Mabel of course was flustered at not being a bridesmaid and quickly changed back to her positive self. As for Dipper, he seemed a little off throughout the ceremony; after the wedding he told me how he couldn't believe how fast everything and everyone was changing, all the while not breaking eye contact with me, for a bit I thought he was referring to me and not Soos' wedding, but eventually shook it out of my mind. It didn't seem right to think of only me changing, everyone changes it just takes longer for some; I told him this and he just laughed lightly and muttered something about how that's what he meant and walked off to congratulate Soos and Melody. Eventually Soos began to take over management of the Shack, mostly due to Stan's participation in hunting paranormal things with Ford: leaving me by myself sometimes over the course of a week, sometimes two.

Not too long after Soos became manager, Wendy graduated high school at age eight-teen. Everyone came to the event, and I admit I haven't cried enough in the last three years to equal how many tears I shed that night. But I wasn't embarrassed at all, I was proud. I was proud of her and proud to have human feelings for someone I cared deeply about. Several townspeople were shocked to see the incident, as if to think: 'Wait, what? Pacifica Elise Northwest is an actual human being with a beating heart?' Even Dipper, who had already undergone significant physical changes that year, when we were both only fifteen, seemed unsure of what to do, while everyone else cried with me, hugging the beloved redhead.

Since Wendy left, it's only been me, Soos and sometimes Stan when he's not preoccupied with the Weirdness and feeling up to it. It has been dull at the beginning, no doubt, but eventually I made something useful out of my spare time… clothing design. Be it costume, accessory, or fashion- I was consumed. Utterly consumed in the world of designing clothing, fabrics, jewelry, shoes, and costumes- everything. Once in a while, Grunkle Stan would snatch one from my pen, or brush, to tease and playfully critique it; only to hesitate while gazing at my unfinished work and rightfully return it so I could continue and either leave in a huff, unable to convey a slight insult or remain to look over my shoulder as I was finishing it, attempting to loot skeptical when I could obviously see he was interested. Even Grunkle Ford seemed fascinated, he would say that Mabel would knit her own sweaters and I would nod, remembering the 'eye-catching' clothing articles, and would tell me that I should show her my work. To which I blush and say I'd think about it, when I meant that it would never happen.

I do love Mabel dearly, and I do tell her some of my darkest secrets and she does know that I love designing; she also knows that I don't like revealing them… Like my virginity; she knows I have it, but she knows I don't like to talk about it and divulge it. Anyway, Stan and Ford, for my sixteenth birthday, when they realized I enjoyed the pastime and found I could work with a needle, gave me an entire spare room, that was originally for storing the Shack's Gift Shop knick-knacks, just for sewing and constructing my 'masterpieces' as Grunkle Ford calls them. I do admit they're good and my AP 2-Dimensional Art teacher does say I have a knack for contouring values and determining the appropriate flow of different fabrics on paper, but I do feel modest about the ordeal, which is why I use a key to keep my creations locked and a secret- not even my guardians know exactly what I do up there, they just leave me to my own devices. Eventually since I would be so engrossed with my work Grunkle Stan called it the Paz-Cave, a tribute to my nickname bestowed upon me by Mabel. The only person who I relatively share my designs and costumes with is my AP art teacher for my college portfolio, and Gravity Falls High School Theatre Department's (GFHSTD) Director, and even he keeps it anonymous, claiming an old friend of his at a nearby college let him rent them.

Walking nonchalantly into the small kitchen I select a basic bagel from an unopened bag in the bread pantry and place it in the toaster. As it was toasting I went to the rickety fridge with poor insulation and took the cream cheese and a boiled egg, which I boiled with the rest of the dozen a few days ago, opened a drawer selecting a butter knife and walked back to the toaster just as it popped out the bagel. I split the bagel in half and smeared the cream cheese on it and used the knife to slice the egg in fourths long ways, scooping out the yolk, and placed it on top the cheese and sandwiched the other half of the bagel. If my parents saw this they'd probably restrict me to my room for three days, because all this breakfast is, is carbs, which I efficiently work off by hiking every other day. Holding my breakfast 'sandwich' I peeled off a paper towel from a roll, looked over to check the time on the oven's monitor; 8:45 and began my course to the Gift Shop where I worked from nine to four. I do get paid, however I save seventy-five percent of the money for college and the other twenty-five goes to my Paz-Cave inventory- I make my own clothes unless necessary; since my family lost their money I developed a taste for the comfortable generic clothing brands over the high-end ones that sometimes would leave a rash on my sensitive skin.

Making it to the register, I took a quick bite out of my still warm bagel and set it on the paper towel, then went to the sign to turn it over so it read "Open". I happily went behind the register to pick up the radio transmitter we installed after Soos turned manager, so the Museum and Shop could communicate, turning it on, I could hear static, I pressed the outgoing button.

"Question, this is Llama. We are a go. Roger?" I said robotically, a smile spreading on my lips.

Soos always came thirty minutes earlier than necessary to set up for the tour and prepare the props' display.

"Roger that, Llama. Question out!" He answered, leaving me in a fit of giggles.

The day was, as usual, slow due to the fact it wasn't summer yet and Tourist Season – yes, that's an actual thing – has yet to come. As a senior student at Gravity Falls High, we're in the midst of finishing our final exams, or at least the freshmen are, and we still have a week of school. However, given I'm a senior and my classes consisted of five AP classes, two electives and a free period, all of which I've finished my necessary exams in, I'm granted the privilege of only checking in for attendance then leaving less than five minutes after being checked off the list. Now all I have left is to hear from Fashion Institute of Technology (FIT) in New York, Academy of Art University (AAU) in San Francisco, Savannah College of Art and Design (SCAD) in Savannah – obviously –, to see if I got accepted to any of them.

As I was giving a friendly-faced customer her change for an overpriced 'Mystery Box', I heard the bell ring, signaling the door opened. I flinched when I heard the sound, earning a strange look from the customer who took the change and went on her way; I took a moment to curse Grunkle Stan for forgetting to get rid of that damn bell. I brought my head down and began sketching a design of a dress with a one shoulder strap, with fringe on the rim of the neckline and had a pencil skirt with a slit that went all the way to the hip, however to give the dress a classy finish I added a fitted underskirt that ended at the mid thigh. It was simple, but recently I wanted to experiment with fringe.

Suddenly I noticed a shadow being overcast on the counter and instinctually took my sketches and shoved them under the counter. I looked up to see a pair of fatherly brown eyes behind thick black glass with one of the lenses having a visible crack and I felt my chest untighten as I let out a breath of relief.

"Grunkle Ford, you scared me!" I exclaimed, he laughed lightly as I faux frowned.

"Next time you say you'll be gone for two weeks, call me before you come home and scare the crap out of me." I gave him a pointed finger and scowled.

"I'll be more than happy to do so. But, on more pressing matters- I noticed you haven't checked the mail today."

I gave him a questioning look, and then he took out three envelopes from his coat pocket. I carefully took them from him and turned them over to look at the name of the senders. My eyes widened and my hand clasped over my mouth as I screamed. I ran from behind the counter and jumped into Ford's chest, causing him to nearly fall backwards. I hugged him tightly as I squealed and held fast onto his arms as I leaned back to look him in the face.

"I'm going to college!" I screamed and broke into an uncontrollable smile that crinkled my eyes.

"Yes, I know." Ford responded with a proud smile. I shook my head in disbelief and started to laugh.

"I'm going to college!" I exclaimed again, letting go of Ford and hugging the acceptance letters to my chest.

"Alright, alright we get it! No need to repeat, and scream bloody murder!" Scolded a gruff voice from the doorway. I turned, still holding the letters to my heart, only to see Grunkle Stan who bore a face of mock annoyance with his eyes rolling. I heard a huff of disapproval from Grunkle Ford.

"Stanley! This is a joyous occasion! We should celebrate!"

I looked at Stan whose frown turned into a small, warm smile as he flipped the sign to 'Closed'.

Dinner was indeed a celebration, we invited Grenda and Candy for dinner and even managed to get Mabel on Face-Time using my laptop. She uneasily said that Dipper was out of the house doing something, even though she didn't say what. Stan and Ford exchanged glance and they seemed to know some information, but I didn't dwell on it. To come clean, I've had strong feelings for the now eighteen year old over the past year or so, perhaps something a bit more serious than feelings. But I did feel embarrassed about my aspirations and what Dipper thought of them; he always seemed to think I was capable of doing more and he couldn't seem to understand that going into technical theatre is what I wanted to do and it was enough for me to be happy.

Anyway, after we ate a delicious meal of sirloin steak, broccoli and mashed potatoes with sparkling cider and a drip of champagne, I began to open the letters.

The first one I opened was from AAU; I slowly tore it and unfolded it, teasing the others. Mabel whined in desperation on the computer monitor.

"For God's sake, Paz! Read the godda- I mean, gosh darn thing already!" She yelled nearly slipping a curse word, clasping her mouth, to which Stan raised an eyebrow and Ford exclaimed her name in shock.

When the letter was completely unfolded, I read.

"Pacifica Northwest, the Academy of Art University school board is grateful to receive your application. Your application is held in high regard and it is with great pleasure… that we accept you for applying to our university!" I yelled.

Cheers were heard throughout and Grenda ignited a confetti bomb. Candy hugged me tightly with her thin arms, glasses becoming crooked.

"Oh, congrats, Pacifica!"

Candy applied to MIT, aspiring to participate in robotic engineering, and already has received her acceptance letter last week. After the cheering died down, I wasted no time in opening my letter to Savannah, saving the best, FIT, for last.

I read the letter and again celebratory cheers were held. I then took the last letter and apprehensively opened it.

FIT was the second best design school in the country, Parsons the New School for Design being the first but I can't afford the tuition fee. FIT was located in New York, meaning Broadway and I had familial connections. I knew it was far from my friends, which is now my family, but it was the best choice for quality education and most sure-fire way I had in finding a job. It was the wisest choice.

Everyone was quiet as I opened the letter; they knew how much this college meant to me. I silently read to myself, not wanting to embarrass my self if I didn't get in. I set the letter down and looked up to see everyone's expectant faces. A smiled formed on my face.

"Guess who's going to FIT?"

Then all hell broke loose.