The waves crash against the pier, but the yacht is gone. Nolan stares into the darkness briefly, then lets out a quiet curse and turns to me. Yet, he is looking somewhere behind me. I catch the sound of someone panting. Turning around, I see Mel. Her eyes widen as they lock onto my face, then flick to Nolan and back to me.

Her surprise deepens when she notices the absence of the yacht. She comes to the edge of the water and even looks down as if the vessel could have sunk.

"How could they leave without us?" she questions, standing beside Nolan. "I mean, they could leave without us," she points at herself and me. "But, without you?.." She turns to Nolan, but his response is a furrowed brow. I scan the empty dock and spot a figure in a corner. A man's seated, legs dangling close to the water. For some reason, his silhouette seems familiar to me as I draw nearer, and it dawns on me - it's Todd.

"I don't get it. How is this even possible?" Mel paces along the dock. I settle on the hard planks, leaning against the crates not too far from Todd. Nolan remains standing, his gaze locked on the distance as if his intensity alone could conjure the yacht back.

"Can't we just call them and get them to turn back?" Mel suddenly proposes.

"My phone drowned," Nolan replies, glaring at me, his words tense.

"Use mine," Mel offers, extending her phone. However, Nolan doesn't reach for it.

"I don't have any numbers memorized. Who bothers with that nowadays?" he exclaims while I attempt to wipe away the blood from my face, but I don't really know where it is.

"I can call mom," Mel suggests.

"Good idea!" I agree.

"She is unavailable," she says, a hint of disappointment in her voice. "Voicemail."

"Well, at least leave her a message!" I insist.

"Sure thing!" Mel dials the number again. "Mom, the yacht left without us, and we're stuck in Werster. Could you come back for us?"

"Alright," Nolan exhales as if collecting his thoughts. "We need to catch up to them."

"Should we swim?" I ask, met with a sharp glare from Nolan.

"We can rent a boat. They can't have gone too far," he continues.

"Todd?" I turn to my brother. "Todd, how long have you been here?"

"About ten minutes or so," he replies. Nolan gives him a puzzled glance as if calculating the potential distance the yacht could have covered.

"We need the Coast Guard," Nolan says seriously.

We all follow Nolan to a small, single-story building with a Coast Guard sign. Nolan knocks on the window, and a sleepy head appears in response.

"Yes?" the head mumbles.

"Our yacht left without us accidentally," Nolan explains.

"And?"

"Could you get in touch with them? Ask them to turn back for us?" Nolan's request is polite, yet urgent.

The head regards us with an indifferent expression, but still attempts to tinker with the antediluvian radio equipment on their desk. Something doesn't seem to be working. Nobody responds to callsigns.

"It's not working out," the worker mutters. "Perhaps they've already moved beyond our waters."

"Could you assist us in catching up to them?" Nolan inquires, maintaining his politeness.

"Well, they'll likely realize they left without you and return," the man replies nonchalantly. "We only have one boat, and it's currently on patrol. So... go, take a walk. It's a celebration, after all! Your yacht will come back for you."

Nolan's expression doesn't reveal enthusiasm as he steps away from the window, now even more perplexed.

"Alright," Nolan states seriously. "How much cash does everyone have?"

We all begin searching our pockets. I'm wearing Todd's jeans, and their pockets are empty. Todd approaches Nolan and hands him a single dollar bill, while Mel contributes three more from her jacket and a few coins from her jeans.

"In total, $4 and 15 cents," Nolan sums up.

"Want to check your pockets?" Mel teases, raising an eyebrow.

"I had credit cards, and they were in the phone case that's now lying at the bottom of the sea," Nolan retorts with a grimace.

"You can't rent a boat with this money," Mel observes.

"You don't say!" Nolan's frustration is evident.

"Well, you could try convincing them that you'll settle the bill once you catch up to the yacht," I suggest. "And also... I have a question. Where do you see a boat available for rent?" I sweep my arm to gesture to our surroundings. The pier is still bustling with activity, but I can spot only several ships, a schooner, and a handful of rowboats.

"What do you mean?" Nolan frowns.

"I mean, it would be wiser to use this money for food and lodging. By tomorrow, they'll likely realize we're missing and come back for us," I explain.

Mel smirks. "It seems that punch to your face straightened out your thoughts. By the way, who was the puncher?"

I wave her question away.

"But we don't have money for food and lodging either," Nolan counters.

"Well..." I smile. "That's where creativity comes in. Let me think." I rise to my feet.

"You're not going to go to town like that, are you? You look like a zombie!" Mel exclaims. "I saw a drinking fountain along the way. Let's go there and wash the blood off your face before we get nabbed by the police. Oh, and speaking of which, should we involve the police?"

"And tell them what? 'Help, help, our luxury yacht abandoned us'? It's quite the story." I chuckle.

Our impromptu group heads back to the port gate and the stone boulevard where Mel noticed the fountain. I wash my face; Nolan is standing nearby, surreptitiously watching me, arms folded across his chest. When I finish, he steps forward and silently offers me his handkerchief. I want to refuse, but his gesture seems like an apology and a peace offering, so I accept it and pat my face dry.

"So how are you going to get money?" Nolan asks, clearly skeptical. "No pickpocketing, I hope?"

"No, there are tons of other ways," I reply with a grin.

We step back onto the square. The band, that was performing on stage before, has dispersed, but the instruments remain. I motion to Todd, nodding toward the stage. He initially furrows his brow, but as I look at him imploringly, he relents.

"You are a hat-passer," I suggest to Mel.

"Alright," she grins and picks up a plastic cup from the ground. She looks at it, sniffs it, shakes it several times as if airing it.

"What's my part?" Nolan asks.

"Watch and learn," I laugh, then stride resolutely towards the stage.

"Over the deep blue sea?" Todd asks as we climb the side stairs.

"Yup."

On the stage, I grab an electric guitar and position myself at the mic stand, while Todd takes his place at the drums. Despite a surge of nervous excitement, there's no turning back now. I take a deep breath.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" I announce, and the crowd starts to perk up, noticing that the stage is active again. "We're just passing through, but we couldn't miss the celebration as cool as this! We wish your awesome city a happy foundation day!"

The crowd buzzes and whistles in approval. I turn to Todd and give a nod. He starts a steady beat - one-two-three-four - and I join in with the guitar.

I can hear the guitar slightly out of tune, and nerves make me miss a few notes. Glancing around, I spot Mel weaving through the crowd with a plastic cup, collecting coins and bills, while Nolan stands at a distance. I can't see his expression, but I hope I'm showing him that I'm far from needing a babysitter.

We perform the same song again, only with a more infectious rhythm. People start dancing and shouting along. As we wrap up, another group steps onto the stage. I give up the guitar a little guiltily but still manage to shout into the microphone, "Thank you! Werster rocks!"

Todd and I descend from the stage and make our way to Nolan and Mel, who are standing by a booth adorned with balloons and ribbons.

"So?" I peek in the cap.

"Well, there is definitely enough for food and a place to sleep, at least," Mel grins.

"Perfect!" I beam. "Let's go!"

Jovially, we burst into the nearest bar. Once inside, we order food and find ourselves seats.

A group of guys at a nearby table raise their hefty mugs in greeting. In response, we timidly lift our modest glasses of light beer. Seeing this, the guys shake their heads and beckon the waitress over. In a matter of minutes, four enormous mugs appear on our table. We exchange surprised looks, then offer a salute and express our gratitude to our newfound friends.

As the mugs slowly empty, our two groups somehow merge into one. The combination of alcohol, the festive atmosphere, and good company makes me feel light-hearted and sociable. I find myself laughing heartily, savoring the robust ale (as I'm told, it's what fills those gigantic mugs), attempting to sing the city's anthem, and laughing all over again. The guys flirt recklessly with Mel, who pretends to be bashful, but in fact, her eyes sparkle.

Todd seems engrossed in conversation with a bearded fisherman at the adjacent table. Occasionally, stealing a glance at Nolan, I sense an unspoken thought in his gaze - a hint of bitterness that tenses his smile and casts a seriousness over his countenance whenever he looks at me. Yet, as the night wears on and the alcohol takes its toll, my ability to grasp the unfolding events begins to blur. Everything becomes a whirlwind - a medley of images, sounds, voices, and music...