Between his hangout session with Danny and Marco on Sunday and his lunch with his mom on Wednesday, as well as spending plenty of time with JP at MSM Rye was beginning to feel settled at home once more. He’d talked to Niles through text but still hadn’t had a chance to reach out to his friend any further. Regardless, with the news he got from Danny and his list of loved ones including others affected by it, his next stop was Elisa D’Amiano. After a quick text exchange the day prior Rye waltzed up to the home of one of Danny’s older sisters on Friday afternoon, nearly a week after he’d returned home. He had bought a beautiful bouquet of Irises and asked Vannessa at Hummingbird Creations to wrap it in purple tissue paper. The door was left open, so Rye pulled open the screen door and slid inside, making sure to greet Nyx as the black and white feline twisted between his legs. He made his way to the kitchen and greeted Elisa enthusiastically.

“Elisa, sis! You have no idea how refreshing it is to see such a beautiful face,” He complimented as he pulled her into a tight hug. “I’m surrounded by them of course, but none compare to you.”

“You’re energetic,” Elisa gave an affectionate and sympathetic smile toward her brother’s best friend, holding him in a way where it felt tight, yet tender. Only moments ago she had kissed her husband who soon after took off to enjoy himself at the bar. She got time to herself and him as well. There was nothing but trust in their relationship and both enjoyed their time apart just as much as they enjoyed their time together. Before Gavriel had entered her Victorian house her husband so graciously worked on to make it into her preferred aesthetic, she had visited her two boys sleeping soundlessly.

Nothing compared to a mother’s love and Elisabetta knew she would die for these two. Come rain, come shine, they were her world. It’s funny when she thinks about it. Growing up, she wasn’t that great with kids. Or well, she was a kid herself. The last time she babysat was when she was twelve and she almost got two kids arrested. In her defense, the kids were simply a grade below her so… the age difference was a poor judgment call on the parents. She remembered they were feuding with this dumb girl across the street so she thought it was only fair to egg her house. Things escalated where the father brought a bat out and they ran away, then she made a lie to cover their tails. Unfortunately lying and saying they were walking the dog was not a bulletproof plan, seeing how they prank called the house thirty seven times in the past hour.

After that, she swore to never babysit again.

This incident was only three years after her and her family moved to Edenridge and not only was her father not happy with her but she gained a reputation as an anarchist. It also didn’t help that she was the token goth chick of all Northside. An outcast who acted like she didn’t care what anyone said about her. A rebel without a cause. A scary bitch in black. Thinking about that and how now she was a mother who would bring out the worst of herself all to protect her two little boys… it was funny really. How life worked in mysterious ways. How life made her so maternal, so aware, so paranoid for their futures. Releasing Rye, having absentmindedly ran her hand in his hair, thinking of the day Damon would grow to be someone with similar fluffy hair, Elisa grabbed the flowers away from him and took a leisurely sniff, “They’re very pretty. Thank you.” With a serene gaze of acceptance and acknowledgement, Elisa began maneuvering around her kitchen to find a vase. As she did so, she firmly asked, “Hungry? I’ve made lasagna. Thirsty? We have plenty of juice and teas.” Placing the flowers in a china vase, she glanced back at Rye and insisted, “Please, get comfy. It’s been awhile, Gavriel.”

“I will never say no to your lasagna,” Rye answered with a grin as he hopped onto the maroon velvet barstool to lean his elbows onto the black marble countertop. “Do you have grape juice? We ran out last night and I would kill for a glass.” He began tapping his fingers on the marble before he realized what he was doing and pulled his hands into his lap. “How have you been? It was hard finding time to video chat these past couple months, I’ve missed our little chats.”

Instead of answering whether or not she had grape juice, Elisa grabbed it from the fridge and poured him a glass. If there was one thing she always stocked up on it was an assortment of juices, from store bought to fruit/vegetables she juiced and put in glass storage containers. “I’ve been okay. I don’t get much of a break since I’ve been assigned to teach summer classes.” Whether kids didn’t want to stay back or they were attending class for college prep reasons, it was her job to push them to their greatness. To see that they succeed. Placing his glass in front of him, she smiled, “I missed our chats too, but I’m glad you focused on family. Family comes first.” With that, she went on to move around her kitchen and get Rye a plate of lasagna.

"Yeah, it does, but you guys are part of my family too, you know?" He responded, hands immediately wrapping around the cool glass and fingers running lines through the condensation. It was a sentiment he had shared with her many times, even before their shared experience in the cafeteria, having created a large found family on his own instead of sticking with the small one he'd grown up with, and even larger than the blended one he'd ended up in. "Especially you and Danny, you've done so much for me. I'm sorry that I didn't check in on you sooner after finding out about Momma B, but I didn't know how to approach it and I wanted to make sure you had enough free time to really talk if you needed to. Have you…been talking to anyone about it? Or do you want to?"

They've talked about many things, including -albeit shortly- their shared trauma, but Rye was well aware this was a newer territory for them both and he was never good at tip-toeing around issues. If she wanted him to drop the topic he would, but at least now she was aware that he was in on the secret and that she could lean on his shoulder if she needed.

Stopping for a moment as she placed a piece of lasagna on a plate, Elisa whispered, “So you know.” With her back facing Rye, the third Belmonte daughter frowned. If Rye knew, it was only a matter of time the whole town would know and that was something her father didn’t want. He didn’t want them to remember the image of Silvia with her cancer. He didn’t want people to see how the heart of the family was failing. He didn’t want the people of Edenridge to see a lot of things. Clearing her throat, she went back to making Rye’s plate. Once she was done, she placed the knife down and brought it to her company. “I have my husband, silly. Of course I have someone to talk to.” As soon as he was given food, she walked to the other side of the island and leaned on it. “It isn’t your job to check on me, Gavriel. You need to focus on yourself, hun’.”

“You’re starting to sound like my ma,” Gavriel laughed, turning the fork over in his hands. “I had three months to focus on myself while I was helping my savta, she’s super laid back and independent so she refused to take up a lot of my time. Gave me plenty of time to think about myself and those I love and how I want to show them. That includes you and the rest of your family, but it was always mostly you, Danny, and Momma B.” He leaned across the counter as an upbeat hip hop song played out from his dangling earbuds between them. He dropped a hand onto her wrist and gave it a gentle squeeze and a small smile. “First rule of Emergency Medics Anonymous: ‘We’re here for each other no matter what’, right?”

“Right,” Elisabetta answered before following up with a correction, “You,” She placed her free hand on top of his and began, “are like me. We wouldn’t have connected as well as we did if we weren’t kindred spirits. You’re playful and witty when you feel safe. That's a side of me my husband hasn’t seen in a while, but it’s there. Once you make up your mind on someone, you close off. Though, you might be a bit nicer than me. You have the best dry humor which only the cleverest of people have.” Removing her hand from Rye, Elisa gave a smug look, missing the days in highschool where she was a goth bitch who joked too much. “Trust me when I say you’re more like me than you realize.”

Mrs. D’Amiano clasped her hands together redirecting the focus on herself, trying to answer his question from earlier, “Well! How am I? A million dollar question right there.” She wryly laughed before darkly adding, “You know the only people without problems are those in cemeteries? I’d love for someone to say that at my funeral.”

Gavriel took the on the spot character assessment well, knowing Elisa had a very good read on him just as he had on her. Leaning back once she'd released his hands, he listened intently to her closing statement and immediately fell back into dark humor while he really processed what she said. "I mean I can start taking notes for the eulogy now if you want," he stated facetiously, miming writing something on a notepad as though his fork was the pencil. "'Elisa would like you all to know you can go screw yourselves, as she is somehow managing to have worries beyond the grave as well. That's life…and death I guess.' Does something like that sound like what you were goin' for?" He casually flipped the fork around his finger one more time before grasping it and taking a bite of his lasagna. He almost groaned at how good it tasted but restrained himself due to the intensity that the conversation held beneath the quips.

“Ooooh. I love that. You should make that a profession,” Elisa chuckled, honestly not really caring about what goes on her stone. She didn’t even care if she was buried, turned to ash, or her body went missing. Why would she care? She’d be dead. The only thing she would care about is her family doing what they need to do to come to terms with her death and keep pushing on. Absentmindedly, she started biting her nails. A nasty habit of hers she was, to this day, trying to break.

"For real though, this is a lot to be dealing with and I understand if you don't want to go any further into detail, I just want you to remember that you have more than one person in life to lean on for a reason. I'm more than willing to lend you what's left of my listening ability." Because Elisa and Gavriel went through hell together and not only survived, but teamed up to keep others alive as well. Elisa would check on Rye in the hallways during senior year on the days that he even made it into school, and once Rye graduated and had begun to settle again, they had started to meet up on the regular and talk through their shared trauma together. Rye had once deprecatingly called them Emergency Medics Anonymous during a coffee date and the little nickname had stuck between the two. Rye would do anything for Elisa to make her feel better, and he would never regret it.

Withdrawing her finger tips from her mouth, Elisa quietly observed Rye with those harsh and strikingly vibrant hazel eyes. While the colors were the softest brown infused with green, like the forest during springtime, they still held wisdom and strength beyond her years. “I never did tell you…” She straightened her posture, no longer leaning on the table, and went to get a piece of tissue from one of her counters. “Prior to that day,” She returned to the island this time beside her brother’s best friend, “I was diagnosed with postpartum depression.”

As she brought up something most of her siblings didn’t know, aside from Cat, she subconsciously started ripping the tissue into small pieces, letting it fall where it fell. “Only a month or so from that day I had given birth to my sweet, little Vince. I almost lost him.” Her gaze grew distant as she continued to tear into the paper. "Honestly, that day, I prayed I’d be the one shot dead by Decker. The emotions I was feeling were worse than death to be honest.” Dread and guilt emitted off of her, as if she was still leaving through the worst years of her life.

“Seeing little Danny Boaz…” She paused as her mind drifted in and out of a memory and Rye froze at the boy's name. Once she was able to muster the words to express her deeply rooted emotions, she explained, “I buried my grief and focused on the lives that didn’t deserve this tragic ending.” Stopping her actions, she brought her attention to Rye, finally dropping the strength. Her demeanor was small and her expression was that of sadness like raindrops on a grave. “My mom? She doesn’t deserve a slow death. She’s such an amazing human being,” Elisa admitted with a shattered heart. “I guess God thinks she’s too good for this world, but why put her through so much pain? I hate seeing my family falling apart but what I hate more is the fact that such a good woman is dying like this.”

Rye rolled his shoulders as he worked his way through his own emotions brought up by the conversation, eyes following the turn of Elisa's lips and the scrunching of her eyebrows. His own heart broke for the woman that he'd come to see as an older sister figure over the years and he pushed his plate to the side in order to lean onto the counter while facing Elisa fully so she could read him. His shoulder ached as he stretched it but he didn’t acknowledge it with anything more than a twitch of his lips. He had asked for her honest feelings and she trusted him with them. He hadn’t known anything about her depression, or the reason behind the empty look in her eyes that day they collaborated on the cafeteria floor; he couldn’t even see clearly at the time through the haze of shock and adrenaline. And to know that she had almost lost little Vince as well? All the new information lately was having him wonder how he’d missed so much with the people he deemed family.

He wasn’t the most religious, the Belmonte family already knew this, he doesn’t even go to Gardenview anymore because of the ghost of one Boaz and the shadow cast by the other. He doesn’t pretend to know much about what catholics believed either, but in times like these he wished he had accompanied the Belmontes to their church every now and then as a teen so he could speak from a place of better knowledge.

“I don’t think your God is trying to make Momma B. suffer, Lis’. She’s amazing, and incredibly strong. It’s a legend of a woman that can raise that many kids, and she put her foot down a lot. I don’t know anyone that could really tell her what to do, do you think even God could tell her when it’s her time to go,” he joked gently. “Because I’ve never met anyone that would dare rush her.” He searched Elisabetta’s face for any sign that she was understanding what he was saying or if it just seemed like a ramble. “She’s going to hold on for as long as she can to make sure her family is okay, even if it hurts her while she’s doing it. Love hurts. A lot. Maybe to her every bit of pain is worth it for the last moments she gets with all of you. To me, that means she's just as strong now as she ever was.”

He looked away then, fidgeting at his fingers and feeling as though he may have overstepped, spoken on something he shouldn’t have when he was just trying to find a small light in the darkest part of his loved ones’ lives.

“Keep that image of her forever in your heart,” Elisabetta gave Rye a weak smile, picturing her mother in the current state that she was in. On top of her mother’s demeanor changing, Silvia was tired, so very exhausted. Brushing the tissue pieces into her hand, the ones she ripped, Elisa stood up and went to the garbage. As she walked to her destination, she asked a rhetorical question, “Wouldn’t that make us the selfish ones? Too afraid to let her go?” Once the tissues were in the garbage, she shuffled to her counter against the wall and leaned her bottom against it, so that she was standing but still facing Rye. Staring off into the distance, she explained with her modulated voice, her thoughts going on in the moment, “All things fade. Flesh, stone, the stars in the sky, the past and our memories. Everything surrenders to time, including our spirits. I worry for my family but I also want my mom to rest. I want everyone to give their goodbyes while they still can. I want them to tell her it’s okay. We’re going to be okay. And thank you. Thank you for everything you’ve done for us. That, however, might be too much to ask for.”

He shifted in his seat, following Elisa’s words while forcing his own tears back. He was here to be there for her, he couldn’t start bawling now just because her words tugged at his heartstrings. For a math teacher, Elisa always did have a way with words.

“My ma always says that it’s the parent’s burden to know what your children can’t or won’t say when it comes down to it. I can’t really speak on that since I don’t have any kids of my own, but after-” He cleared his throat, leg jiggling up and down on the stool. “When I was in the hospital, I wasn’t doing well. I got angry before the rest of the emotions hit. I yelled at her a lot, tried pushing her and everyone else that visited away. I broke down crying once everything really hit and I realized what happened and what I was doing. Ma just smiled and said she already knew I didn’t mean it, that I needed to get it out and that that’s what she was there for. ‘Parents take the blows and roll with them because we’re there to be the wall. Whether you’re screaming at us or crying against us, we stay strong because we know it’s all coming from a place of love, whether you know it or not’,” he quoted her, tapping the countertop. “You can’t make your siblings do anything they aren’t ready to do. If they can’t get past themselves to say goodbye then that’s on them and it’s something that they’re going to have to carry. I’m not saying that what you want is too much to ask for as you think, I’m just saying that maybe Momma B. already knows what you all feel like you can’t say. Most people don’t give moms enough credit, as I’m sure you know by this point.”

He ended it on a bit of a joke, as he felt himself getting choked up and needed to fix that immediately before his words lost meaning. He wanted Elisa to know what his mother always made sure he knew: good mothers can know you better than you know yourself, and you may never be the wiser.

“Beautifully said, Gavriel,” Elisa complimented before approaching him and bringing him into a tender, warm, and heartfelt embrace, “You’re such a good son and I know for a fact your mother loves you with all her heart. Our love for our children is like nothing else in the world. I fell in love with my boys before I even met them.” She released her medical partner-in-crime, reminiscing of the days she cherished, the days that kept her going like fuel. She gracefully and humbly smiled, “No matter how exhausted I am, no matter how hard my day gets, my love for them keeps me going. There is no law, no pity, and no map to parenting. All that I am and I hope to be, I owe it all to my mother. Deep down, like you said, I know that’s what I am to my kids. I’m just mom. And they’ll love me for it. No matter the stages of life they live through. No matter the disagreements and fights that will inevitably happen because they’re simply growing up. I’m just mom. Being a mother is something fierce.”

As the boy stared at her with adoration, Elisa playfully pinched his cheek, “Your lasagna is getting cold.” This was enough emotion to last her a lifetime, but she was glad Rye visited her. She didn’t have many people check on her so it meant a lot to be noticed, to be seen. Elisabetta D’Amiano was a high functioning woman who never came across bothered or unwell. Though her medical records would argue otherwise. She was good at masking that all up and focusing on her family instead of herself. Moments like these truly helped her see she was only human and that from time to time she needed someone to talk to feel whole again.

She’d successfully brought the conversation to a close and even initiated their hug, so he had simply hugged her back fiercely until she pulled back and pinched his cheek, a move that reminded him so much of his mother that it left him feeling warm inside. He hoped that meant she got everything she needed from their interaction and he truly helped ease her mind a bit. Rye turned back to his food, not wanting to be rude and let it get cold as Elisa had said. In this moment, he felt like he had done enough. As he took a bite of the lasagna he hummed appreciatively, swallowing his mouthful before smiling at Elisa.

“Delicious as always,” He complimented before going back to his meal and letting the comfortable silence be taken over by the music still playing from his dangling earbuds.

Mordechai groaned as the morning sun poked through the curtains of Mary-Anne Zima's living room windows, assaulting his resting eyes and bringing him into full consciousness once more. He had woken up some time in the evening yesterday, dizzy and confused as Mika's mother all but force fed him some of the most amazing food he'd ever had. She'd given him several ibuprofen for what was shaping up to be a killer hangover and set him back down on the couch, tossing a blanket across his body as he passed back out. He'd obviously slept all through the night, but that didn't stop his body from currently feeling like it had been hit by a train, his head taking the hardest impact. He squinted painfully against the sunlight as he pushed himself up on the couch, the blanket falling from his shoulders. His head was pounding and his arms itched, so he took a sip from the cup of water left for him on the coffee table and ran his free hand up his other arm. He certainly wasn't awake or functional, but at least he hadn't thrown up or woken somewhere he didn't know. Small victories.

He put down the water, reaching for his phone to see several missed messages from Allegra and Mika in their group chat. According to the last message, Allegra was on her way and Mika was coming to pick him up for a ride to the airport. Mordechai was already lamenting having to listen to Mika's loud music on the way as some form of torture or punishment when the man himself burst through the door, the noise making Mordechai close his eyes against the new onslaught of nausea.

The door slammed louder than Mika intended, but it was whatever! Seeing Boa in better shape than he left him last night was, at the very least, something along the lines of progress. “Look at you actually appearing to be halfway decent,” Badger teased his brother, who groaned and kindly flipped him off in return. At the very least, between the two of them, Boa was probably feeling better than Mika was right now.

In truth, Mika had a long ass night. Between picking Boa’s ass from rock bottom then family dinner, which was a real treat, and then experiencing a few hours of hell with Hyde, Mika didn’t sleep worth shit. Maybe a few winks here and there, but by the time came that he had to come and pick up Mordechai, let’s just say that HB will need a lot of coffee for the trip to pick up Boa’s beloveds.

As he greeted his mother with a hug and a kiss on the cheek, Mika sat down on the couch next to Boa. “So tell the truth, mom, was he a handful?”

“Not at all!” She gleamed, smiling at both boys. “He was out most of the night and when he wasn’t, he ate good food. I imagine, though, you have a bad hangover. I’m sorry I don’t have anything better than ibuprofen.” A look of self-appointed disappointment covered her face.

"It's not your fault," Mordechai croaked out, running his hands over his face as he leaned up against Badger. "I was imposin', and somethin' tells me I'm not gonna be gettin' anythin' much stronger for a while." Because there was no way, if Allegra and the kids were coming, if she'd already gotten Mika in on it, there was no way that he was gonna be able to touch anything other than a blunt and some hard sodas until the heroin and other crap was flushed out of his system. He didn't begrudge them at all, but it was going to make his next couple weeks absolute hell.

"Thank you, Mrs. Zima, for takin' care'a me on such short notice. I'm really sorry this is how we met."

That look of disappointment was quickly replaced with a smile as Mary-Anne waved her hands in front of her, shaking her head slightly. “It was out of our control. I’m just happy that we got to meet. Next time, we all can more than make up for it.” Her eyes went to her son.

And the smile was returned. “Mom’s right. When circumstances are…different, maybe we can do this again and not just in this apartment.” He half-smiled as he looked to Boa. “And perhaps I might even be able to eat some of that food I smelled last night.” It was clear in Mika’s voice that there was a tinge of jealousy that Mordechai, despite his state, was able to eat the food that he hasn’t had in some time. “I hope you savored it all,” Mika teased his brother, nudging him a few times in the shoulder.

"When have ya known me not ta savor a meal?" He retorted, an attempt of a grin twitching on his lips as he stared back into Mika's deep blue eyes. "Though I look forward ta actually havin' a meal with ya sometime soon, Mrs. Zima. I'll try ta make better conversation than drunken ramblin' next time," Mordechai promised, looking over to the woman and swallowing harshly against the spike of pain it sent through his skull. Today was going to be a very long day and he was nowhere close to being ready to face it physically, let alone emotionally. After his conversation with Mika yesterday, he'd checked out, wiped himself out, closed the door on the oversensitive part of him. The man sitting next to the Honey Badger of the Southside was no longer scared-angry-lost-confused-hurthurthurt, he was just tired and compliant. "Maybe I could cook somethin' for you ta return the favor."

Mary-Anne gave another smile. “That would be lovely!”

Mika didn’t say anything to Boa. He didn’t really have to, but he could tell by the way his mother was acting and also with how comfortable that Boa seemed to be around her, it was clear that last night went as well as it could be. The final moments that Badger spent seated was dividing his gaze between Mary-Anne and Boa. Part of him wanted to savor it but also he was just trying not to fall asleep. Her couch was a lot better and more comfortable than the one he had at his apartment. Guess that was what happened when you were granted the special apartment on the special floor.

As he stood up, the loss of his support sending Boa toppling into the cushions and eliciting a curse from the man, Mika grunted. The exhaustion was setting in, but he had no time to sit around. He wished he could stay and catch a few hours of quality sleep, but Allegra would kill both of them if they were late. “You about ready?” Mika asked Boa as he walked over to his mom, who had stood up from the chair that sat across from the boys on the couch. He gave her a tight hug. “I’ll try and stop by soon, mom. Promise!”

When Mika and Boa left the Lost Souls apartments, greeted the serpents standing guard in the early morning, and the New York-born Russian Badger helped his withdrawal-showing brother from another mother into the passenger side, they finally took off. He hopped on the nearest freeway entrance, letting idle chatter fill the silence of a few minutes until the two ran out of things to talk about.

Truth be told, even though he wouldn’t admit it to Mordechai, Mika was beyond impaired to drive. He was exhausted in a lot of ways that exceeded the physical sense. He had a long night that started with Boa, then dinner with the Gonzalez, then the Death Triangle. The few hours of sleep between each wasn’t enough, especially with all of the stress he found himself under thanks in all part to his always-exceeding-expectations, older brother. To make matters worse, he doubted he would have any real rest anytime soon.

But, of course, that was a matter for a later point in the day. Mika had to shove it all down because this was a very important drive. It was a long one, especially with how Mika was feeling, but one that would no doubt be of great significance.

“How about a little music since we’re clearly too exhausted to keep our thriving dialogue going,” Mika chuckled, nudging Boa in the shoulder. He made sure to snicker at Boa before reaching for his phone, gaining a wary look from the washed out man. Should he be looking at it in his impaired condition while driving on the highway? Probably not, but what was life without risk? “You’ll like this one. A…friend of mine turned me onto it.” By friend, he meant one of his boys from Brighton Beach.

Mika scrolled through his Apple Music and pulled up a classic, letting Boa hear for himself just what kind of crazy jams that Mika got down with. “Pretty good, yeah?”

The second the beat started up in Badger’s speakers Mordechai groaned in dismay and pulled the lever to release the seat back, laying it flat and throwing his jacket over his face while he used his hands to plug his ears. The man’s subwoofers had every pulsing beat shooting through his head like he was standing next to a speaker at a rave, and he desperately flung his arm to the passenger door panel to roll down the window and get some blessed fresh air circulation against the onslaught.

“You’re a fuckin’ menace Badger!” He shouted as loud as he dared.

“Pa-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta!” In contrast to how miserable Boa seemed to be, Mika was, in all honesty vibing. “You can’t say this isn’t a fire beat, Boa! It’s the real shit!” Mika banged on the steering wheel to the sound of the beat.

The rest of the ride to the airport consisted of more torture for the nauseated man and amusement on a certain Badger’s part. When they arrived at the airport, Allegra was standing at the pickup curb arguing with-well, more like cussing out- a sweaty man in a suit and service vest while she held Chai on her hip and Viva clung to her leg. Mordechai stared nervously at the scene as his stomach rolled once more.

“What are the odds she’s just goin’ off for the sake of it?”He asked Mika desperately.

Internally cursing, when Mika thought the day wouldn’t get worse, regardless how it was spun, the universe just loved to prove him wrong. “Stay in the truck,” Mika said, a stern, concerned look on his face for Mordechai. “I’ll see what the hell is going on.”

“Don’t have ta tell me twice,” Mordechai relented easily, sinking back into his seat and covering his face back up with his jacket to get a little bit of peace and dark before hurricane Allegra made it into the truck.

After Mika exited his truck and made his way over to where Allegra and the two clearly older men were currently on the receiving end of a very…colorful series of words that any normal person would think shouldn’t be said in front of two young children, but Mika heard worse when he was Viva’s age. So why should he care? Besides, as he stood a few feet away from it, Mika couldn’t help but enjoy the show for a few moments before intervening.

“Well if it isn’t my favorite spitfire!” He stepped forward, hands in his hoodie pocket, back slouched somewhat, and he gave a wave to Viva, smiling at the little munchkin. “What’s happening?”

“Unc’a Badgew!!” Viva cheered, immediately releasing her mother’s leg and running full tilt into Mika’s instead, wrapping her arms around him like an octopus while Allegra’s head whipped around to track her child. “Momma’s sca-wing people again,” She giggled as she beamed up at him, lifting her arms up to him to indicate she wanted to be picked up.

Without hesitation, Mika picked up the young Viva as he slid his hands under her arms and secured her in a tight (but not too tight cause she was fragile) hold on his side.

“Mika! Thank god, I might need someone ta hold me back if I hear the same bullshit line on more fuckin’ time abou-”

“Sir, as I’ve already told your wife-” The first man began belligerently before Allegra spun back around to glare him down with the heat of hell’s own flames.

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare cut me off ya dickless, sweaty pig. And he ain't my fuckin' husband. Just tell me how the fuck ya put my luggage on the wrong goddamn plane as though the information tag wasn’t clearly displayed,” She turned to Mika, and for a split moment she allowed him to see the pout through all her rage as she spoke directly to him. “It was my everyday clothes bag. I can’t exactly walk around in my work clothes so this,” She gestured to her black and white striped top and relaxed jeans. “is all I have in terms of home clothes until they find out wherever the fuck they sent my shit, and then it’s still not promised it’s not just lost for-fucking-ever.”

“Vewy Angwy,” Viva emphasized to Mika in a whisper as she leaned into him, eyes wide. “The man’s been a meany.”

“That’s right. Also big dumb dumb!” Mika snickered with Viva, entertaining the young girl in his arms as he kept a glaring eye on the dumbasses.

Said man rolled his eyes in aggravation at the child, and he dropped his hand on Allegra’s shoulder in order to forcefully guide her towards Mika, grabbing her remaining luggage at the same time. His attention was just split enough that he didn’t have time to react as Allegra jolted and spun back around, Chai held securely to her chest while she landed a solid right hook to the supervisor’s jaw.

“You don’t fuckin’ touch me again, asshole!”

Never a dull moment. That thought carried itself into Mika’s next action as he held Viva close to his literal chest and grabbed Allegra’s luggage and ran back to the truck, tossing it in the back as soon as he could. He opened the back door, setting Viva on the seat. “I’ll be back,” Mika stated in an almost Arnold Schwarzenegger-like manner, looking and smiling at Viva as she giggled. He gestured to Allegra to get into the truck.

Shit hit the fan so fast, but in the smallest moment he had to spare, Mika admired the handiwork that Legs left on the floored man’s face. He saw another trying to grab for her and Mika rushed back, socking the other one in his face, knocking him out in the process. “That’s for losing her luggage, mudak.”

He half-smirked at Legs. “We should leave now,” Mika suggested, tugging Allegra by the hand to emphasize the sense of urgency they should prioritize.

"I think you're right," Allegra agreed easily as she slid into the back seat with her child, accepting Chai back from Mika before she began strapping Viva in single handed. Once that was done she lifted Mordechai's jacket off his face before kissing the palm of her hand and giving him a solid smack upside the head. Said man startled back awake from where he had fallen asleep as soon as Mika left the car. "Hello ta you too," she said, handing Chai over to his father to hold since there was no car seat. Mordechai took him willingly and held him close.

"I've missed you guys," Mordechai admitted instead of greeting them, catching Allegra's eyes through the mirror. "I'm glad you're here."

Allegra's gaze in the rearview softened slightly. "Of course we're here, bovo.”

Arriving at the James house was as uneventful as it can get when you throw three powder kegs into a truck together. Mordechai was thankful for the moment of silence he had gotten while Mika was collecting Allegra and the kids from the airport, because he knew he wasn't going to be getting anymore now that his family was here.

"I'll go knock," Mordechai offered as he handed Chai over to Mika and slowly dropped out of the truck, holding onto the door until he knew he had his feet under him. Once he was balanced, he made his way to the front door and knocked with a shaky hand before stepping back and running his nails along his arm anxiously.

Mika wasn’t far behind as he held Chai in his arms, making sure he was secure before he hopped out of his truck and slammed the door shut. Under normal circumstances, which was typically being anywhere but the southside, he would put his alarm on. It was just the normal habitual thing he had about him in regards to his truck.

He stayed near it for a few moments, waiting for Allegra to get herself ready as he watched from the curb as Boa took those first steps and knocked on Poppy’s door. “Ya about ready?” He asked Allegra, holding a surprisingly well-behaved Chai close to his vest. The infant immediately grabbed at one of his buttons and began fumbling with it happily.

"Oh I'm sorry Badger, did you wanna put all the stuff Viva pulled out of my purse back in it?" Allegra drawled from where she was half twisted under the seat and reaching for the last of the errant objects. "By all means, you get on your hands and knees for once. God knows work alone has had me do it more than enough ta fill several lifetimes." Viva laughed at her mother's predicament from her seat, still strapped in with the seatbelt and playing with a tube of Allegra's lipgloss. "Gimme that ya lil' demon in disguise," the woman retrieved her make-up and opened the cap, dabbing the slightest bit onto her fingertip before rubbing it onto her daughter's lips so there was just the vaguest bit of sparkle. Viva cheered gleefully and Allegra took that moment of reprieve to untangle the toddler's hands from the seatbelt and unclasp it, helping her out of her seat and out of the truck before following after. "There ya go, now she's happy and she'll be quiet while she tries to figure out what flavor the lipgloss is."

Penelope was upstairs, having cleared out most of her room in terms of clothes and items, placing them in boxes and pushing them in the hallway. She left the boxes in the hallway for her parents to help her transport them (she was WEAK). The last box she was carrying out was that of Charlie’s things, including the manuscript that had been laying dormant in her bottom desk drawer. Penelope was moving out of her bedroom, so she could live. This was a start on her healing journey.

Victoria was planning to stop at Rhonda’s later on today to see if Poppy could stay with her while they had a full house. Penelope had woken up at 3 AM, after her visit to Charlie’s gravestone, and when she did she saw her parents going hard in spring cleaning. They were maneuvering throughout the house, straightening up, packing Maxine’s things (finally), and bringing out nursery and kid furniture from the attic that picked up dust. It had been years since they touched Max’s belongings but with the prospect of Mordechai and his family bringing life to the house once more, they were ready to turn over a new leaf. They were motivated to move forward.

When there was knocking on the door, Sylvester James called out, “Got it,” His wife was in Maxine’s room setting up the kids’ room and Sly had just finished getting ready for his workday. Penelope’s hair was wet as she rushed out of the shower to get ready and be presentable for Allegra and company. She was nervous because of how she came off on the phone call but she was also excited because she… liked her. Not like a crush kind of like. She thought she was a perfect companion for Mordechai, which is why once she gathered herself at the park she called her parents and made the proposition. Initially, they were surprised because one, they didn’t know Mordechai was back in town and two, they didn’t know he had a family. Even with that being said, they would never refuse family and Decky was family.

With his police wear on, Sly cracked his neck before opening the door. His body and muscles were a testament of all the adversity he overcame. All the hardship he faced everyday to protect the town. His journey, despite all the violence that surrounded him and that he experienced, led him to this point in life. A pillar in a town of broken things. He took in the punches, he took in the pain, and he absorbed all the hurt. In the end, he came out ten times stronger and his purpose was solidified each and every day. He was meant to help people. He was meant to take all the bad he felt and turn into something good. That was Sylvester “Rocky” James. A rock. Impossible to change and very much needed.

“Oh hey! What a crowd.” He glanced through the small army in front of his house. First, he started with Mordechai, the one standing in front of him, “Look at you, kid. Skinny as ever. You bet your ass Vicky is going to put some meat on you.” The older man chuckled, giving a relaxed smile. His eyes were surrounded by dark circles from the back to back to back long shifts, “It’s good to see you, Mordechai. Penelope, I caught her smiling today. I bet that’s because of you.” After ruffling Decky’s hair, Sly stepped out and glanced over to Mika, “And you, try to say hi from time to time, yeah? You’re a good kid, Mikhail. Hope you’re getting yourself in minimal trouble.”

“You know me. Trouble always finds me for some reason,” Mika laughed, feeling weirdly comfortable as the legendary Sylvester James in his cop uniform acted as casual as ever.

His welcoming gaze went from Mika to the children, Chai and Viva, “Oh man, are these the little rascals?” After giving Viva a friendly wave, like the big teddy bear he was, he looked at Allegra to warn her, “Vicky is going to smother them with love and kisses and all my money. Just fyi. She’s already set up a room for them. And damn.” His attention went back to Chai before lightly patting Mordechai’s back, “Look at you! That’s a mini you if I ever saw one.”

Finally, the veteran police officer, ex serpent (his tattoo visible on his arm), observed Allegra. There was nothing but kindness, gratefulness, and excitement in his face. His kids were entering a new chapter in their grief journey. This had to be a sign for better days. “You must be Allegra, it’s nice to meet you.” Adjusting himself so he was facing her, without entering her personal space, Sly chuckled, “Penelope has told me so much about you already. I haven’t seen her run around this house in… well. A while. Which reminds me! I have to leave but here,” Sly pulled out his wallet and took out a couple hundred dollars, “For you and the family. It’s our welcome to Edenridge gift. You’re doing us a favor by being here and looking out for these troublemakers,” Sly joked and gestured toward Decky and Mika before his upbeat, sleep deprived self complimented, “And your kids and their smiles, that’s exactly what this house needs.”

Allegra was barely keeping the shock from entering her face as Sly placed the money in her hand, completely unfamiliar with this sort of transaction and struck momentarily speechless as her mind processed the whirlwind introduction of Sylvester James into her life. She noticed more than either men she arrived with probably thought, and she was very aware that the man in front of her was both incredibly dangerous and incredibly kind. Mordechai had mentioned to her once when talking about Poppy that the girl’s father was a Serpent-turned-cop and that he always seemed to know more than he let on. Seeing as how he avoided getting in her space or towering over her without having ever met her, she finally began to understand what her friend had meant. He was adaptive and observant, and quick to put those observations into actions. She was observant too, and her eyes flickered from the cash still in her upheld hand to his blatantly tattooed arm to the dark bags under his eyes. Yes, this was a man she could see herself getting along with, trusting, without anything untoward happening to her. Before Mordechi and Mika, Allegra wasn’t even sure if that sort of man existed, but it seemed like Southside Edenridge contained more than its reputation should allow.

Mordechai himself had frozen at the rush of affection from the older man, having almost forgotten how tactile he could be. He had always been a lot like Phil was when Mordechai used to hang around, and then eventually work at, Phil’s Junkyard and Garage. Maybe it had been the way that both older men maintained an open air about them while still being able to be authoritative and stern when needed- so unlike his father, unlike even ReyRey who still got physical with him if he felt it was needed- that always left Mordechai feeling more safe to be soft when under their gaze. Hell, if he had the energy for it he wasn’t sure if he would have laughed or cried when Sly had commented on Chai’s likeness. He hasn’t felt like smiling much since he got back home and discovered everything happening, but the cop’s comments were threatening to bring one out of him. It also hadn’t slipped his notice that Sly used his full name, and he had a feeling Poppy may have told her parents about his new-to-them trigger. This family…

“We can’t keep that,” He spoke up nervously before the man could leave, ignoring the way Allegra’s incredulous gaze snapped to him. “You’re already lettin’ Allegra an’ the kids stay here, we can’t just take your money too-”

“Speak for yourself, Ken,” Allegra broke in, ignoring his glare at her use of their corner names in front of the officer. “I left my jobs ta get here and I know your ass doesn’t have anything lined up yet, and won’t until you’re all better,” She purposefully kept her gaze on his arm until he nervously covered it with his hand. Point made. “I am more than happy ta oh so graciously accept this until we can settle. Thanks a ton, Mr. James, I know we’re imposin’ and everythin’ happened super fast so it means a lot that you and your family are willin’ ta put up with us.” She pocketed the bills before smiling at the older man. “Some of that money is goin’ into pampering your daughter anyways, I believe I promised her a spa day over the phone.”

Mika was all but a silent observer, watching the interactions between Mr. James, who lived up to his name of being a classic case of don’t judge your cop by his uniform. He had a sly mouth, no doubt living up to his name, but someone that Mika always found comfort in being around. Even if his visits haven’t been as frequent as of late, it was still reassuring every time he did. “Ah, come for the Boa, stay for the spa. Sounds like a great deal to me!” Allegra rolled her eyes good naturedly, not even turning to face him.

“I like this one,” Sly gave a hearty laugh before his walkie talkie started going off: Calling all units. A 211 at 435 Main. Back-up needed. Sighing to himself, another day to face the demons in the streets, another night praying he’ll come home to his girls, Sly gave his regards, preparing to join the fight with his brothers-in-arms. “Welcome to Edenridge, Allegra.The place where the game never ends.” His statement was ambiguous, hinting at wisdom beyond the younger generation’s years. Sly knew too much and because of that, he had sworn to protect his town until there was no more fire in him. Until he knew there was someone he trusted he could pass the baton to. Monsters lurked in every corner and it was his job to take them down.

As Mr. James jogged to his patrol car, Victoria came to the door with a timid smile, “So glad you all could make it.” Opening the door wider, she held it and gestured for them to enter, “Come, come in please.” While Sly gave off the aura of a shield, Victoria’s dark gaze was that of emotional warfare and her presence, although motherly, was like a poisonous scorpion stinger. The way she stood was welcoming, yet guarded. She held herself in a way that signaled she protected what was hers at all cost. Victoria James wasn’t as warm as her better half nor was she pretending to be. She was a survivor and a fighter. That’s all she ever could be.

The older woman stood there scanning those in front of her, especially the new face, coming to her own conclusion in split seconds. Victoria was a pretty woman, thin and stern, and although her demeanor emitted a razor’s edge, she tried her best to drop the worry and let fate lead the way. Her daughter saw something in each of these kids that waited on the porch of her house. Whether it was because they were used goods that needed some love or she saw potential in their futures, Penelope believed in these three and wanted to see them succeed.

Sometimes it is best to trust the process and let fate decide who comes into Poppy’s life and chooses to stay. Eventually all things are connected but Vicky didn’t want another Charlie. There was so much hope and trust that was placed on that boy and in the end, he caused so much suffering for the people Victoria loved. Vicky loved Rhonda. Rhonda says she’s made peace. That may be true but that doesn’t change her son abandoned her. Left her in this world by herself to figure it out alone, just like her husband did.

Vicky’s youngest daughter? Penelope. Her Poppy. Loved him to the point that she barely could survive without him. They were so codependent on each other, it’s remarkable that Poppy was still alive to this day. When he did what he did it absolutely crippled her child. Yet somehow by the strength of her father, Poppy was still standing.

There was a time Vicky didn’t hold such harsh views on the boy who massacred so many innocent lives at Edenridge High but after Maxine passed away… it became harder and harder for her to see what good he did for her daughter, for his mother. And then, he shot up the school. To say Vicky held spite was an understatement but some things were better left unsaid, out of fear of causing unnecessary damage. She wanted to trust Poppy’s friends, she really did, that’s part of the reason why she agreed with letting them stay here.

This was her safe place, her home, and only those deserving would last in it. Vicky saw the threads of life tied together, when loosened or tightened it had a surprising impact. So, she allowed them to stay close, tangling them deeper into her family's lives. She wasn’t going to leave them hanging, no. She was going to knot them tightly together, entangled with her dear Penelope, so she knew the moment they showed signs of weakness and treachery, she’d cut them. That was what mothers were supposed to do. Protect their child at all costs.

“Hey guys!” Poppy with her wet hair, one of Charlie’s big shirts, and sweatpants, stood behind her mother, excited to see all her friends. Mordechai smiled and returned her greeting quietly. “We’ve worked pretty hard in preparing the house, right, ma?”

“Oh yes, I was able to bring out furniture I don’t seem to have the strength to give away,” Victoria nodded, not realizing she had drifted for a moment. In her wandering, she missed Allegra’s analytic gaze as the young woman picked up on the energy that the others seem to have missed from Victoria.

“Mhm. Mordechai and Allegra, you’ll be staying in my room! The babies will have Max’s. They’re connected by a bathroom so it should be pretty convenient. I’ll be next door with Rhonda,” Penelope explained. Decky could explain to Legs later that Rhonda was Charlie’s mom. Allegra herself was mouthing ’two rooms?’ to her partner who shrugged back anxiously, also not expecting that much space.

“And if you need more space, like for hobbies or what not, I’d need help cleaning up the attic a little bit but that can be used for whatever.” Victoria offered, not knowing if the couple did anything for fun that didn’t revolve around the streets and crime. As the two James women talked, they led the way upstairs to show the two lover-like friends and their babies their room for however long they needed it, leaving Mika behind to make himself at home.

The two dark haired wayward spirits followed behind the women, Allegra taking a snoozing Cha from Mika and handing himi over to Mordechai while she herself swung her giggling daughter up and onto her hip as they moved forward, into the next chapter of their lives.

Had Mika the energy, he might’ve followed the women, Boa, and children. Had Mika any energy to spare, he might’ve done more than find a comfortable spot on the couch near the arm rest and casually splay his body longways on the couch. It didn’t matter to him whether or not it was stiff or one of those couches where his body would sink into the form-fitting cushion, Mikhail Zima was utterly exhausted. For the past few hours, he had been running on fumes. That music he played for Boa wasn’t just because he wanted to ‘torture’ him but it fueled his fumes. And him punching that tsa guy wasn’t because he wanted to…well, it was, but it had to do with his fumes running high.

Everything Mika did up until this point was his near empty tank running on whatever emergency fuel he had to spare. But the moment he came to a stop in front of the James’ house and helped Allegra and just stood there, doing everything that he could to remain on his feet, Mika could feel it. Typically he refused to allow himself to be so vulnerable in a home he had minimal time spent in, but there was something more than familiar about Poppy’s place. Maybe it was the closeness he and Poppy had in high school or it was the fact that he knew Boa would be here, as well as the kids. Or maybe it was Sly’s subtle urging of him to come around more often. Whatever it was, Mika didn’t feel like he needed to be on his guard one bit.

He felt safe here.

As he smiled and his head resting on his arm, Mika was out. He hadn’t the energy to take off his shoes nor his jacket or anything. He was in a peaceful sleep and out like a motherfucking light.

While chaos had continued to ensue in the Belmonte household, the girl who had been just struck in the face had found solace behind the door of the luxurious home’s guest bedroom. She laid curled up in the middle of the queen-sized bed, silently crying in shame, guilt and anger. Shame, at having been discovered and photographed in such a compromising position. Guilt, at the realization that (although not fully responsible) she had contributed to Father Joe straying from his sacred vows time and time again. And, finally, anger at the way this whole situation had gone down in the first place.

After the way Cat had just treated and disrespected her, there was no way she would be staying in Edenridge any longer. Who was she to pass judgment on what she did or didn’t do? What gave her the right to lay a hand on Peach, when her own parents hadn’t even done so, ever? Hell, why had Sofi followed her into the church in the first place? And what had compelled her to pull out her stupid phone to take a picture of her and Joe in such a compromising position and then show it to her mom? It’s not like Tiff had done anything to deserve this type of behavior from her nosy cousin and her equally nosy daughter. All she had done was have her own personal fun, help her Uncle Tazzy and her Auntie Silvia, and mind her own business. And what she had gotten in return was being humiliated and exposed in front of her family.

That was the final straw.

Eventually, after she had tired herself out from crying, Tiffannie rose from the bed and began to pace around the room repeatedly. Her large pink suitcase and pink Hello Kitty travel bag now sat open atop the queen-sized bed, while different articles of clothing were being snatched from the closet and carelessly flung in their direction. In between sobs, sniffs and the wiping of tears, the blonde continued to gather her belongings from the bedroom. Once the vast majority of her items were strewn across the bed, she began the methodical process of folding and packing to fit everything into her luggage. There was only one thing on the blonde’s mind at the moment.

She was going back home to Los Angeles whether her parents wanted her to or not.

Once silence had fallen on the Belmonte home again, Tiffannie tiptoed to the bathroom across the hall with the intention of cleaning up and grabbing her remaining belongings. The shower she took and the ritual of applying her skincare products, although having served to improve her mood, also strengthened her resolve to carry out her escape plan. Once the last of her items had been securely packed, Peach solicited a Lyft drive, slowly and painfully carried her luggage down the stairs and left the home as quietly as she could. To avoid suspicions, she had decided to wait for her ride at the very beginning of the peaceful Scott Street, her slender frame being illuminated by the streetlight she was standing under.

Chase Hunter Warren was blasting dream trance in his car as he did his Lyft job, bringing people safely throughout Edenridge. The furthest he’s ever driven for this side gig was Pinehurst but most of his customers were drunk Edenridge teenagers just trying to get home. As he listened to Suliman by Infected Mushroom, he guzzled down a Red Bull. Ain’t nothing but the grind.

To be honest, Chase, who preferred being called his nickname TNT, was uninvolved with the happenings of his hometown and he could barely remember the day before because he barely got any sleep. All he did was work, work, work so that he could make a decent living and support his adoptive parents. He wore a chain necklace with a blue guitar pick, a white tee, a jean jacket, and black pants with plenty of accidental rips in it.

His knuckles were bruised from an incident earlier, but that was irrelevant. What was important was that someone needed a ride and he was on it. The probability of missing his target was slim to none. A block away he could see a blonde with a pink hoodie that exposed part of her midriff, dark gray velour sweatpants, Uggs, a large pink suitcase, a pink Hello Kitty bag, and sunglasses at night.

That’s a lot of pink.

“Christ,” he muttered to himself as he pulled up to the curb, where she stood under a streetlight looking like a lost, sad baby. Rolling the passenger window door, he leaned over to get a closer look at her. In a matter of seconds, he realized who it was. “Hey aren’t you… shit, what was your name… Tiff? Yeah, from yesterday?” It was clear TNT had no acknowledgement or memory of his disrespect toward her and her new friend, Kylee. When she didn’t respond, he called out, “Hey princess! Come on. I ain’t got all day.”

The sharp tone of her designated driver pulled Tiffannie back from the spaced-out thoughts she'd been engrossed in. She had looked up to greet the man and apologize for missing what he'd said when she recognized who was behind the wheel, and felt her heart sink like a lead balloon inside her chest. The last time she'd been a passenger for this particular driver, he had treated her and Kylee Grimm in such a rude and aggressive manner that she'd ended up silently crying for half the trip home. Even now, as she thought back to the previous night, Peach couldn't understand what was the trigger for the young man's behavior towards them. But whatever it was, she knew she wouldn’t be strong enough to endure it tonight. Her best bet? To try and find somebody else to take her to her destination.

“I guess I should cancel the trip and start looking for another driver," Tiffannie said with a sniff, her pink, glossy lower lip already wobbling dangerously as she removed her sunglasses to reveal puffy blue eyes. "I'm not having a good time right now, and I don't want to give you any more reasons to be mean to me and make me cry again like last time."

Biting his cheek, Chase reflected on the night before. Everything that was coming out of Kylee and this girl’s mouth was pure privilege, but today was a new day and neither girl deserved his aggressive behavior. Fins had asked him about his day and him being completely unapologetic spoke his truth. Fin gave him a good slap in the head and told him his father taught him better than that. “Finding drivers isn’t easy in this town and…” How could he make her feel calm without her feeling pressured? “… and, um, sorry, I guess. About yesterday.” Saying sorry was dumb but he could see Fin giving him that mama bear look that only meant grief for him.

Tiffannie blinked a few times, surprised at the change in demeanor from one day to the next. If she was anything like Natalia, she would hold his previous behavior against him even after this apology. But Peach wasn’t at all like her resentful cousin. She had a kind, gentle, forgiving heart, open to giving second chances to those who deserved them (except when it came to her father, but was neither here nor there at this moment). For all she knew, maybe he’d been having a bad day. She couldn’t completely judge someone over one interaction.

“That’s okay!” she responded with a shrug, offering the man a small, watery smile. “It’s all water under the bridge now. Thank you so much for apologizing, though. It really means a lot to me.”

After putting his car in park, Chase stepped out cautiously, yet steadily and approached the blonde, “No joke. I can be kind of a dick.” He offered to take her bags to put it in his trunk, “Can I make it up to you? I’m not fucking fancy but I could at least treat you to breakfast at the diner? Or I don’t know? Where do you want to go?”

The mention of being treated to something made Tiffannie instantly perk up. Getting spoiled, be it with gifts or food, was definitely one of her favorite things ever. “That would be absolutely amazing!” she exclaimed happily, her face visibly lighting up. “I love breakfast food!”

Man, this was awkward. He didn’t even know this girl. But hey, rarely do you get opportunities to apologize to a stranger. As if a sixth sense went off, he pulled Tiffannie out of the way of a kid speedily biking down the sidewalk, “Hey watch where you’re going, fuckhead! It’s ten at night! Da fuck you think this is?!”

Tiffannie had let out a little yelp at the sudden action, momentarily losing her balance and stumbling right into Chase’s chest. As he cursed out the kid who had nearly collided with her, she looked at him in wonder, and couldn’t help but laugh. “That was a close one!” she giggled, amused at both Chase’s heated reaction and his fast reflexes. “Thank you for saving me.”

“It was nothing,” Chase glanced down at the girl who was wrapped in his right arm staring up at him. He didn’t even process what happened. All he knew was something was coming at them and he didn’t want her to get hurt. With her being this close in proximity (literally up against him), he finally was able to take a look at her and see how attractive she really was. Honey hair and honey skin-- everything about her gave off a warm, gentle sweetness: from her sun-kissed lips to her blue eyes. Even in her eyes, they had the sweetest threads of caramel. Clearing his throat and releasing her, the southie masked his embarrassment with an apology, “Sorry for… touching you.” The girl shrugged. He really was horrible with these kinds of things. “Where were we…” He had lost his train of thought, as he tried to remember everything that happened before the bike. Stupid fucking bike.

“Oh shit, I don’t think you really know my name. Most call me TNT but uh, since you're born on this side, I’m Chase.” Oh wait, she might’ve known that since the Lyft app gives out his name as Chase W. Pulling out his old Jitterbug Smart2 phone, he opened up the app and read Tiffannie T. “And you’re Tiffannie…” He should get out of dodge while he still could. Trying to be amicable was not fucking easy. How the hell did Tov and Fin do it? He was all kinds of awkward and she probably could tell.

"Mhm! That’s me!" the girl proclaimed cheerfully, nodding enthusiastically at her savior. Smiling brightly, Tiff politely extended her hand out to the young man. “It’s nice to meet you, Chase! I’m actually not from here, but I stay with my mom’s side of the family down the road. So that counts, right?” she explained with a small shrug. The boy responded relatively confused as he stared at her hand, like he was debating if it was a trap or not.

In the midst of her rambling, Tiff remembered what Chase had just said at the beginning of his introduction, and she let out a dramatic gasp. “Oh my God, you’re not going to believe this, but… I’m a TNT too!” she said with a small squeal, excitedly clapping her hands together at this cute little coincidence. “My full name is Tiffannie Noelle Taccone, so my initials are TNT too! This is so cool!”

“Heh… I guess it makes more sense for you than me. It’s a nickname for me. We southsiders - names mean you made your mark. Doesn’t matter how involved you are…” He hesitated, not knowing how aware this girl was of the gangs in this town. “... with the people, but a name is kinda’ like a badge. You have one? Cool, you’re not a nobody. You don’t? Best kill yourself now before someone else does.” He nervously chuckled. That might’ve been too intense. He should clean that up. Fast. Fin would slap his head if she knew he scarred an innocent girl. “I’m kidding! Yeah, ha, ha, funny joke. Anyways!” Chase rushed to the passenger side and opened the door for her, “My apologies. Diner food?”

Tiffannie nodded enthusiastically again, making sure to thank Chase for opening the door for her before taking a seat inside the vintage vehicle. As much as she wanted to avoid being nosy, the young woman couldn’t help how her eyes roamed around her new surroundings. The carpeted floor in front of her was littered with empty Red Bull cans she’d almost stepped on when boarding the vehicle, with one additional open can currently sitting on the cup holder between them. A pizza box rested atop the dash right in front of her, filling the car with its delicious, mouth-watering scent. And beside the pizza box, in the middle of the dash was a…

“Oh my God! It’s a Squirtle plushie!” she shrieked, immediately turning to Chase, her blue eyes sparkling with excitement. “Can I touch it? I love plushies! They’re so cute!”

With the trunk open, Chase had placed all things pink inside the back of his car. Suitcase, check. Hello Kitty bag, check. He heard her squeal. Closing the back trunk, he hustled to the driver seat and opened it, “What? What happened?” When he noticed she was swooning over his Squirtle, he gave an ‘ah’ before taking a seat. After getting situated he reached for the plushie and placed it on her lap. “How old are you anyway?” Was that too forward? Probably.

“Eighteen!” came Tiffannie’s prompt response as she occupied herself with examining and cuddling the adorable plushie in her hands. It was so soft and incredibly cute, like a kitten or a baby bunny. “I’m a Piscesssss: February birthday. What’s yours?”

“April 17. Sometimes Easter. Aries. Twenty.” He replied as if he was writing the answers on a questionnaire before starting his car up. Easing on the pedal, he began cruising to his destination completely leaving the topic of age to rest and focusing on his objective. The diner. Leaning back a little, while holding the wheel with his right hand, he looked to his phone to see what song was about to play.

His playlist was on shuffle and the song to come on was one that immediately triggered him. The first song his brother learned how to play on the guitar. Crazy Train by Ozzy Osbourne. Chase’s face grew pensive as he thought of all the lost dreams that got buried with his brother that awful night.

Grabbing his phone, he was quick to change the song to something that made him feel less like shit. FUCK YEAH, Chop Suey by System of a Down. When the drums started playing in the intro he tapped his hands on the wheel and then the build up game where all the other instruments joined and he started hardcore banging his head. With all the pent up aggression he held inside he yelled, “WAKE UP! (wake up). GRAB A BRUSH AND PUT A LITTLE MAKE-UP. HIDE THE SCARS TO FADE AWAY THE SHAKE-UP. (hide the scars to fade away the…) WHY’D YOU LEAVE THE KEYS UPON THE TABLE? HERE YOU GO CREATE ANOTHER FABLE.”

It wasn’t hard to miss the way Tiffannie flinched when Chase began bellowing out the words to the unrecognizable song on the radio, or how she discreetly covered her ears in an effort to preserve their integrity. As someone who was not a fan of heavy-sounding music, the blonde was finding herself in something of a nightmare situation of sorts. Of all the citizens of Edenridge, what were the odds that she’d find herself in a car with the person whose music tastes seemed to be the polar opposite of hers? Why couldn’t they just listen to something that wasn’t as violent, like Dua Lipa, or Ariana Grande, or Olivia Rodrigo, or throw it back with some Britney or Christina?

The thought of saying something definitely crossed the girl’s mind. But with the past night’s interaction still fresh in her mind, the last thing Peach wanted was to upset Chase and for him to get mean and make her cry again. So instead of politely requesting a change of genre or even for the radio to be turned off, she offered him another small smile and sucked it up. Just because she didn’t like the music didn’t mean that watching her driver let loose with it couldn’t be entertaining.

“I cry… when angels deserve to… DIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!” And so the song went on for another two minutes and thirteen seconds. An excruciating wait for someone who doesn’t fancy this type of music. When it was done Chase’s demeanor went back into relaxed mode. Turning the music off, he now chose to enjoy the calm after the storm. He had gotten so into his music that he forgot there was a girl next to him holding his squirtle. They were almost at their destination. Instead of starting a conversation the socially awkward southsider sat in the quiet, focusing his eyes on the road. Hopefully his guest didn’t mind the ride. He should’ve cleaned up. Then again, he didn’t actually care that much of the mess. Something was just telling him it was courtesy. Oh fucking well.

For the next two minutes, the young woman sat in silence, allowing her eardrums to be ruptured as the man sitting next to her continued to yell his heart out to the song. She kept her eyes on the road stretching out ahead of them to not make things awkward, but spectated Chase’s passionate rendition out of the corner of her eye and couldn’t hide how the corners of her mouth turned upwards. She always enjoyed watching people do what they liked, with no care to who was around to witness it. Not to mention that her driver yelling out songs instead of hurling insults around made for a much pleasant ride to their destination.

Yet, eventually, the song and the accompanying show came to an end, and Tiffannie let out a small, relieved breath. The sudden silence that fell between them was welcomed with open arms (which was saying something for a chatterbox like her). She thought about initiating conversation again, but after seeing how content Chase seemed to be, she decided against the idea and settled for enjoying the ride again, Squirtle plushie still resting securely on her lap.

Bringing himself down from the high of dance and song, Chase found himself once more in a silent car. Before the next song began to play he glanced over to check on his passenger. She was quiet. For the little time he knew her, her being quiet felt weird. In response to that realization, he grabbed his phone and closed his music app. Dropping his phone back down on the console, he continued to drive but this time in silence. Tapping his thumps on the wheel, he went over a few things to ask her. When he decided on the best route, he noted out loud, “So… you like pink, huh?” Damn, was that the best he had? Her liking pink was fucking obvious. She was the definition of pretty in pink.

“Oh my goodness, yes!” Peach replied excitedly, going from zero to sixty in a matter of seconds. Pink wasn’t just her favorite color ever-- it was her lifestyle. Pink and her went together like peaches and cream. “It’s, like, my favorite color ever! I love it so much that I always make sure to wear at least one pink item all the time! Though if I had to choose a shade, it would be hot pink, rose gold, or pink glitter! What about yours? Do you have a favorite color?”

There was a pause. This wasn’t something TNT had ever thought about. Did he have a favorite color? Or did he just like a certain aesthetic? He processed the question for a moment longer before deciding on his answer. “Yeah, I guess.”

“OOOOOOH! Let me guess!” she requested, putting her finger up to her chin while taking a moment to carefully study Chase’s grunge outfits, pair it to his music taste and the items strewn around the car to come up with her best educated guess. “Is ittttttt… Black?”

Grabbing his Red Bull and chugging the rest down, Chase watched the eager Tiff as she waited for his response like a kitten wanting to get pets. When his can was empty, he placed it back down and nodded, “Yuh. It goes with everything.” Once he answered, they had arrived at their destination. As he parked, he looked toward her and asked, “Is it that obvious?”

The blonde nodded vigorously again. “As obvious as it is that water gets you wet!” she chirped with a tinkling laugh, looking very excited to have been correct in her answer. Realizing they’d reached their destination, Tiffannie shifted her attention to the building in front of her, recognition suddenly sinking in. “Are we at Dolly’s? I love this place! They have the best strawberry cheesecake pancakes I’ve ever had! This is so good!”

“Best spot in town, ‘side from Godmothers,” Taking his key out of the ignition, TNT looked at the excitable Pomeranian-like girl. Placing his fist by his mouth, he cleared his throat, before reminding her, “This on me, okay?” and watching the eager girl nod. Man, being a gentleman was hard but Fin would likely expect a full report if she found out he saw the ‘prissy Disney princess on the other side of the tracks’ again. Yepp, that’s how he described Tiff when Fin interrogated him about his day. She was really good at him bringing up shit that was quite frankly, none of her business. Now, here he was: treating the barely legal blonde to breakfast at night.

Oh. He reached for the plushie to put it back on the dashboard, his hand accidentally grazing her thigh. Leaning forward so that he could position Squirtle in a way that it was facingTiff, Chase didn’t notice how much he was breaching her personal space. His scent was an off-brand of some expensive one, but still did the job of lasting all day as he ran around doing work. It was a mix of mineral salt and spicy ginger, which blendy with his natural scent. Think sweet, spicy, yet crisp and bold with woody undertones. He liked the smell, it wasn’t like Body Axe. It was a little exotic, making him a lot more charismatic than he actually was. Though, that wasn’t why he chose it. He chose it because it lasted all day. “Okay, let’s go.”

With that excited smile still in place, Tiffannie exited the car and entered the diner alongside Chase.

Fifteen minutes after their arrival at Dolly's, Tiffannie Taccone sat at a corner booth of the diner, happily munching on her selected meal. A plate of strawberry cheesecake pancakes with whipped cream and fresh strawberry toppings and a glass of milk sat in front of her, being alternated to her heart’s desire. After the waitress had taken their order, she and Chase had sat in silence, getting used to each other’s company outside of the car ride they’d just shared. And once the food had arrived, the silence had been filled by the sounds of their enjoyment of the meal.

“So how long have you been a driver?” the girl asked him in between bites of pancake, hoping to kickstart some conversation while getting to know her new friend in the process.

Biting into some buttered toast, Chase finished chewing before shrugging, “Since I got my permit. Then again, Demo let me practice a bit before that too if that counts.” He took another slow bite. He didn’t know if redirecting the same question made sense. It was likely Tiff did not drive since she called Lyft. Then again, she could also not have her car with her and her family here was too stingy to let her borrow their wheels. He shouldn’t assume. “... do you? Drive?” Chase was eating light, four pieces of toast, three bacon strips, a cup of mixed fruit, and cherry coke. He didn’t need much fuel, he had a big lunch and after this he would likely head back home and knock the fuck out.

“Mhm!” Tiffannie nodded, taking a sip of her milk before elaborating. “I got my license as soon as I turned sixteen, and my parents gave me a Jeep Wrangler as a gift for my birthday!” Putting her glass on the table again, the blonde grabbed her phone from the table and fiddled around with it for a bit before eventually pulling up a photo of her posing next to the iconic hot pink Jeep Wrangler Convertible. In the image, the grinning Tiffannie could be seen standing up on the inside of the roofless vehicle, hands in the air in a sign of triumph, while a golden glitter gift bow sat atop the hood. Smiling at the memory, Peach handed the phone to Chase so he could see it. “That’s my baby! I’ve always wanted a Jeep ever since I saw Cher from Clueless had one, so that’s what my parents surprised me with! And it’s a really good car for someone like me who’s kind of… Clumsy on the road…” she admitted with a sheepish grimace, thinking back to all the curves and sidewalks who had suffered at her hands. “But I’ve only gotten two tickets so far, so I’d say I’m doing pretty good for myself!”

The man on the other end of the table held the phone intently observing the picture. He was trying real hard not to say anything to upset her, but this kind of stuff-- lavish gifts from parents, where they go the extra mile to put a big ass bow on top of it-- it wasn’t relatable. Still, that was the life she was born in and he was given a different hand. He couldn’t judge.

She was like the Queen of Hearts and he the King of Spades. Absolutely the opposite from one another, in all aspects. Giving a friendly smile, Chase handed her phone back and complimented, “It looks good. Suits you. I can’t say I’ve ever watched that movie but I’m sure it’s good if you like it.” Phew. He did well. He didn’t blurt out the first things that came to mind. Fin be proud. If he was being honest, he would’ve said a few unpleasantries unintentionally because he thought a gift like that was excessive. Shit like that should be worked for and earned. Not handed over all willy nilly as a birthday present.

Still, if they were going to make any sort of friendship work, he had to tell her that while he was happy for her and her fortunate upbringing, there would always be a disconnect from him, “I don’t know if my reaction was what you wanted. Nothing against you or anything, I just never had something that grand. Hell, I was adopted. My parents, like actual parents, were shit.”

While the first responses she’d gotten from Chase had earned him a beaming smile, followed by a mental note to introduce him to one of her favorite movies eventually, it was what he said after that stood out to Tiff. Immediately, her demeanor changed: her smile fell, replaced with a mixture of shame, guilt and sadness. “Oh my God, I am so, so sorry!” Peach was quick to apologize, her bottom lip sticking out. “I didn’t mean to be insensitive or anything like that!”

“Hey!” Chase raised his voice, startling the girl in the process. Shit. He really needed to figure out how to talk to her. This was not easy. She was so squishy. Putting his toast down, he wiped his hand on the napkin before offering it for her to grab, “Don’t be ashamed of your truth. And don’t pity me. I’m okay. I’m just honest, okay? And if we’re going to be friends, just know I wasn’t raised like you. I’ll listen. I’ll listen all you want. I can do that, but I wouldn’t know what to say back, okay? Don’t apologize for being excited about your life. It’s cute.”

“I just don’t want to make you feel bad with anything I sayyyyyy!” she explained, graciously holding the hand he was offering for her to take. She never wanted to come off as someone who flaunted her privilege with the intent of making someone feel lesser than. “Most of the time I don’t realize how I can come off to the people outside of my family or my friends-- and I’m sorry for that. I would really hate it if you got the wrong impression of me based on something I may have said without thinking.”

“Dude,” He squeezed her hand, trying his best to ease her worry. “I’m literally the same. It’s hard fighting our nature. I say whatever is on my mind and I get mad easily. You did nothing last night-- I had a rough day and then you and your friend kind of we’re a lot to deal with. But don’t blame yourself for my mood. I projected. And I’m sorry.”

As she listened to Chase’s explanation of how he was, their difference in upbringings and what had been going through his mind the night before, Tiffannie gained potential understanding as to why he reacted in the way he did. Kylee and her loudly going on and on about their privileged lives in front of a man who seemed to struggle to make ends meet was certainly bound to leave a bad taste in his mouth. Thankfully, she had gotten this opportunity to show him that first impressions could be misleading, and that she was more than just some spoiled, ditzy bimbo who was out of touch with reality. It also made her more aware of her behaviors and taught her the importance of not being tone-deaf. “Apology accepted,” she said softly, squeezing his hand again with a tender smile on her face.

Sighing to himself, he freed her hand, leaned back in his chair, and ran his hand through his hair, trying his best to stay composed and calm, “The best way to make this work is if we are open to telling each other how we feel, but I know me. And I’m rude as fuck. So how about this, when I’m overwhelmed I use a safe word and when you’re hurt you use a safe word? Does that make sense?” What the hell was he going on about? Would this even help? He didn’t know how to not hold back his words. This whole conversation was hard as is. Then again, if he hurt her, she probably would cry.

Peach nodded in agreement with the idea: it was both cute and incredibly useful in order to avoid potential misunderstandings. Now, what would her safe word be… “Mine will beeeee… Lemons, because I like lemony stuff about as much as I like crying: I hate it,” she said with a small laugh, making a playful disgusted face before taking another bite of food. “What will be yours?”

“Oklahoma. Because Oklahoma sucks and I would never move there.” Like what actually happened in Oklahoma? Once you hit there, the good times ended. The good times barely existed in Edenridge but at least he had his small family. The state was boring and there was never anything interesting to read about it in the news blogs.

“You know, you might be right…” Tiffannie mused, cocking her head to the left as she thought back to any times she'd heard anything interesting about the state and coming up empty-handed. "I think I might have driven past the city once during a road trip, but we didn't really stop anywhere except at a nice gas station on Route 66 for a potty and snack break. So I can definitely see where you’re going with this."

“Okay, cool. Now that we got that figured out, let's do those things they do at school.” He took a moment to figure out what the word was. Grabbing his cherry coke, he took a deep sip before the ice touched his lips. Tiffannie looked up at him, visibly confused. Oh that’s right. “Icebreaker. Let's do an icebreaker.”

"Oooooh, icebreakers! I love icebreakers!" She replied, her eternal excitement now restored to its former glory now that they had moved on past their small incident. "What do you have in mind?"

Going through the deep files in his mind that have been compartmentalized for a rainy day, like today, Chase grabbed his fork, stabbed some fruit, and stuffed it in his mouth. He never thought he’d use an experience from his highschool days, before he was expelled, but if it helped get him in the good graces of Tiffannie then it was worth it. He didn’t even know why he cared so much about getting this girl to forgive him and like him. If it wasn’t for his conversation with Fin, maybe he would’ve left Tiff at the curb. But that’s the thing. While he was stubborn and loud, he wasn’t innately a bad guy. He was just rude at times. He wouldn’t have left Tiff alone no matter how angry he was. “I guess ‘Have You Ever’ is simple enough. It’s just a question game to learn about each other. Just gotta’ answer yes or no, but if you want to explain your answer you totally can. I’m not going to stop you.” Before Chase knew it, his small fruit cup was gone and in his belly. Putting his fork down, he started, “Okay, I’ll go… have you ever skipped class?”

The blush that crept up on Tiffannie's cheeks was instant. "Yes," she admitted, looking away with an embarrassed smirk as she remembered the misdeeds of the past. "Only when I was a freshman and a sophomore, though! I was kinda sorta seeing this guy, Brandon: upperclassmen, water polo player, super tall, scorching hot. We'd skip study hall sometimes to hang out at each other’s houses when our parents were at work and we'd have the place to ourselves. We stopped after he graduated and went off to college."

Her response brought out a genuine smile from Chase as he finished his bacon. She was cute. Really fucking cute. She skipped out to be with her hot boyfriend. Such innocent intentions. Playfully, TNT teased, “So the Pink Princess isn’t as Disney as I thought, good to know.” Grabbing his cup of soda, he drank a bit. As he did so, he gestured with his hand, in a finger gun motion for her to shoot. It was her turn to ask him a question.

The blonde giggled nervously at his comment, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear while taking a long sip of milk. If Chase knew what she’d done to land herself in Edenridge or the mischief she’d been getting herself into since her arrival, he’d see her as more of a Playboy bunny than a Disney princess. But that was neither here nor there. It was time to ask her own question.

Tiffannie cleared her throat. “Have you everrrrrr…” she trailed off, suddenly struggling to come up with a question interesting enough but eventually finding one bound to open up more conversation. “...been anywhere outside of Edenridge? And if you haven’t: where would you want to go?”

“Nah, I wish. Just never been something realistic for me.” Chase shrugged, placing his cup down, before answering her follow up question, “First, in the states, definitely Cleveland. It’s where the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame is. Though hm, actually maybe Detroit. I’m a firm believer that the hall of fame should’ve been there. It’s the Motor City! It doesn’t only spawn artists, it spawns genres. Actually, yeah: that’s my state answer.” Chase pushed his plates away from him so he could rest his elbow on the table and put his chin in his palm, “Country I’ve never thought that big but if I had the money. Manchester for sure.” Conan always dreamt about visiting the UK. Memphis, Tennessee too but Chase wanted to see Detroit first. TNT hadn’t even realized how open he was being with this girl he barely knew. These were things he hadn’t even brought up to Tov or Fin. It was weird, but nice.

It was his turn now. Drumming the table, he thought of his next question, “Have you ever… done something you regret? Like not just buying the wrong thing. I mean something really fucked that bothers you to this day.” He did want to ask a follow up question but this might’ve been way too personal so he stopped at that. He didn’t know why he wanted to ask this but he was hoping to get a read on how moral compass and how she would judge him if she knew half the shit he did.

As much as Tiffannie hated to admit it, this was an easy question to answer. She knew the root of all her questionable decisions she’d been taking through the past year dated back to that terrible day when she got The News. “I completely stopped talking to my daddy a few weeks ago,” Peach confessed, using her fork to absentmindedly play around with a slice of strawberry atop her plate. “I used to be a big Daddy’s Girl. He was my favorite person in the whole world. But he and my mamma got divorced last year, and not even two months after it was finalized and he moved out he got married to some stupid bitch he’d met through work,” she explained, stabbing the defenseless strawberry slice with her fork over and over again.

Chase couldn’t help but watch her subtly violent actions on the poor slice of fruit. He took mental notes of all the major points she brought up like her parents getting divorced, from daddy’s girl to daddy issues, and a step mom she hated. He did find it weird she was putting all the blame on the woman and not her father but he kept quiet, allowing her to continue to express herself. As he watched her, his stare surveyed her face, taking in her crisp, long golden hair like Rapunzel, her deep ocean blue eyes, and her flawless and soft looking skin. She was really pretty now that he had time to look at her.

“He begged and begged for me to meet her, but I told him I’d rather jump in a pool of acid than meet that tramp-- which he didn’t appreciate, of course. He gave me a long lecture about not speaking of his wife that way. I told him I’d lost all respect for him for running off to be with another woman so soon after the divorce when the ink on the papers was practically still fresh. We got into a really big argument, and we quit speaking for a while. He stopped coming to some of my school activities then, giving me bullcrap apologies and using work as an excuse. But I knew it was because of what I said about his stupid new wife. He always denied it, but I know it was.”

Damn, she really hated this new wife person. Still, did she notice how sugary sweet her voice was? It was on the higher pitched side of things with a sultry undertone. Kind of hot. Kind of perfect for a stripper. Her voice aside, Chase couldn’t relate with the lingering feelings of being a child of divorced parents. Both his biological parents loved each other to a fault, they loved each other so bad that they protected the other with their crimes. Then there was Demo and Zippo. They were a dream when it came to love. Partners in crime sort of deal. Then his ma died. Divorce was like death, right? Sure, she didn’t lose her dad or mother, they were still alive, but she lost the fantasy of them being together, in love, and as a family. That must be hard to deal with for someone like Tiff.

“After that, I started staying out late to mess around with older guys. I’d lie about my age on Tinder and set hookups with guys that were, like, years older than me. Eventually, the night I was celebrating my eighteenth birthday, I met this guy at the club and went home with him. What I didn’t know was that the guy was married, and that his wife’s flight for her work trip had been delayed for a day. So she came back home to find me on my knees blowing her husband in the kitchen. She grabbed me by the hair, with a knife to my throat, and dragged me to the door screaming about how she was going to slice my neck. I called Daddy in the middle of my panic attack-- he’s a cop--, and they arrested the lady and granted me a restraining order against her. But because he and Mamma were so rattled over the whole thing, they decided it was best to send me over here to Boston to my uncle Tazzy’s house-- Taz Belmonte, the Palermo owner? He’s my Mamma’s big brother. Of course, Daddy couldn’t let me go without one last lecture, that turned into another argument where he said some really ugly things to me… And I haven’t spoken to him since.”

Woah that was intense. Not the age difference thing but the knife part. Chase had almost slipped from his resting position of watching her talk. Adjusting himself so he was sitting up once more, he processed everything she had said. So, she was here as punishment or protection or both and she was staying at the big fucking house on Scott Street. Fuck, she was that rich? And now she doesn’t talk to her dad, or hasn’t because of the beef. Got it.

Realizing the amount and type of word vomit she’d just spewed out, Tiffannie’s face grew red with mortification again. “I’m so sorry, Chase. I didn’t realize I would go on this long about something that’s probably nothing compared to what you’ve gone through. I haven’t really talked about the whole divorce thing so in depth to anyone else before, so it just sort of came out and--” she trailed off, feeling her eyes getting hot with the tears that soon began to fall from her sapphire-colored eyes. As safe as Chase made her feel, it didn’t make her any less embarrassed to have overshared so much of this touchy subject during their first meeting. He probably thought she was doing it to gain sympathy at this point.

“Shuuuuush, it’s okay. There’s nothing to compare. Your pain is your pain, mine is mine. I’m no better than you and you ain’t better than me. We’re just humans trying to make it by, okay?” He had a lot of follow up questions but he didn’t know if it was right to overwhelm her even more when she was in this state, so instead he repeated, “Okay?”

Peach nodded slowly, wiping away the tears from her cheeks. “Okay,” she mumbled, grabbing the nearest napkin to wipe off the mascara stains on face and blow her nose. “I’m sorry I killed the mood with my oversharing,” Tiff sniffed, looking at Chase with teary eyes. “Is there any way I can make it up to you?”

“You do that a lot,” Chase bluntly pointed out. “I don’t know who invalidated you, but your emotions, your feelings, your issues: they're valid, Tiff. And you don’t need to do a damn thing for me. You just have to be yourself and keep finding reasons to smile. I like when you smile.” And back to his coke he went to finish it off. He was talking way too much. It was weird. Yet, this girl was so warm and honest, she made him want to talk. After downing the rest of his drink, he gazed at her with his chocolate coated eyes, “Your turn.”

“Have you ever realized that you’re, like, a really good listener and super good at making me feel better even though we’ve just met?” she asked him with a small, watery smile. It wasn’t lost on her that, so far tonight, he had directly complimented her twice, indirectly done so a couple more times, and had successfully kept her from bawling her eyes out more times than she’d liked to admit. So she figured it was only fair that she returned the good karma. “I actually think you’re pretty cute yourself, and you smell so, so good. And, you know: I also like it when you smile. It looks a lot better on you than when you’re being mean or frowning or scowling!” Tiff teased lightly with a giggle.

She liked when he smiled.

Chase drummed the table slower. She saw good qualities in him already? He must be doing good. “Thanks, uh, I’m trying. To listen and pay attention to you! Not the whole cute thing. Me, cute? Ha. Yeah right.” On impulse he reached for his now cold toast and stuffed his mouth. Chew, chew, chew, swallow. “It’s cool I’m just telling you that you shouldn’t be ashamed of how you feel. You’re going through a lot, that’s neither greater than or less than what I’ve been through. And I’m honestly honored you thought me, a stranger, out of all people was someone worth telling all that shit to. So thank you.” And another toast. This was too sappy for him. Toast could keep him distracted.

“First of all, you so are cute. And second of all: do you still think we’re strangers to each other after all of this?” she inquired with a playful smirk, taking the last few bites of pancake and downing the rest of her milk. There was no way Peach considered Chase a stranger after impulsively blurting out her entire life story to the poor guy.

“I guess not,” He shyly answered before coughing, almost choking on his bread. This would be the first time Chase Warren connected with anyone on the other side of the tracks. He lived in Edenridge all his life but never did he ever try to get to know people who had better lifestyles than him. Tiff? Tiff was different. She wasn’t like those people that shoved their fortunes in your face and laughed at you. She was… humble. Okay, it was his turn. It looked like they were finishing up so the check would be coming soon. “Have you ever realized you’re really fucking pretty, inside and out?”

Tiffannie let out another little giggle, her sparkling eyes making contact with Chase’s chocolate pools before looking away, her cheeks now tinted in her favorite shade of pink. It wasn’t the first time the LA native had been complimented on her looks by a member of the opposite sex. But there was something different about the way Chase said it: with such genuine, wholesome intentions that it made her heart happy, and her whole body feel all warm and fuzzy inside. “Have you ever realized that you’re really, really sweet, and charming, and really, really pretty too-- even if you don’t think so?” she countered, reaching out for her companion’s hand again while giving him her biggest, brightest smile yet.

“Uh, no,” Chase countered. “I’m rational, sure-- but I have issues, Tiffannie. Like a lot of fucking issues.” TNT brought his soda to his lips as he observed the blonde bombshell, contemplating how they got this far. He was genuinely finding things he liked about her and she was nothing like him whatsoever.

The blonde shrugged her shoulders. "Everybody has issues, Chase. That doesn’t take away from you being charming or sweet or cute. If having issues took away from someone’s redeeming qualities, then we’d all be considered ugly. You should believe in yourself a little more.”

“Thank you... It means a lot to me that you see more in me than I see myself. ANYWAYS!” Diverting the conversation, Chase asked, “Do you still want to go to the airport or do you want a night to think about things? I don’t want you to make a decision you’ll regret. My dad won’t mind if you stay with us for a night.”

Ah, yes, the reason why she’d come to be in his company in the first place: the drive request to the airport to fly back home to Los Angeles. The young woman shook her head. That seemed like such a silly idea now that she thought about it with a clear head. As tempting as Chase’s offer was to stay somewhere else for the night, she had some very important responsibilities to uphold. Just because stupid Cat had decided to stick her nose into Tiff's business, physically assault her and expose Cousin Viv's relationship out of spite or intoxication or insanity didn't mean that Auntie Silvia had to suffer the consequences. She should've thought about her before ever setting foot outside the house, but hurt had been guiding her actions.

"Can you drive me back to the house, if you don't mind?" she politely asked Chase. "My Auntie Silvia's very, very sick, so I take care of her a lot. Bathing her, helping her with her clothes or dressing her, making sure she eats and takes her medication, making her stay as pretty as she always is… You know, things like that! I don't want her or my Uncle Tazzy to be worried about me or wake up tomorrow needing something and I'm not there to help."

“Huh,” TNT gazed at the girl across from him, pleasantly surprised and impressed. This blonde bombshell was considerate of her family. Something he valued. He might not be related to his family by blood but he would die for them. Staring for a little too long without saying anything more, distracted by her sincere and gorgeous blue eyes, Chase’s mouth could be seen slightly ajar. Snapping out of it, he apologized, “Sorry to hear that. About your aunt, I mean. Mrs. Belmonte was always pretty welcoming at Palermo when me and my bro were barely making by. She’s a nice lady. Told us to always come by if we needed some food. I felt bad for always getting free shit from her though… so I tried to repay her through errands when she was too busy. It’s pretty neat she’s your aunt. But sorry again.”

The Belmontes were a core family in Edenridge even if they weren’t part of the founding families. They did their part, especially Taz and Silvia, when it came to making the southies not feel completely like outcasts. Mr. Belmonte was good humored for the most part but TNT didn’t ever want to get on his bad side. He seemed like a guy who was cool with all types of people but when it came to his family, he wanted things done ‘right’. His eldest three all had perfect looking families and each were well loved in the community in their own right. Socializing and making sure there was a sprinkle of Italian at every corner of Edenridge. It really seemed like Taz was painting this ideal image to make it seem like his family was strong, put together, and full of role models. Chase couldn’t relate. He just wanted to make it to the next day.

“Hey, save my number? Should have me already from the Lyft texts. If you need anything, let me know. That’s a lot of shit for you to deal with.”

"Thank you so, so much!" Tiffannie said sweetly, the gratefulness shining clear through her blue eyes. "And you can save my number too! I can't really think of anything you could ever need from me, but I'm always free to hang out or something like that! I don't have any friends in Edenridge right now, and you and I seem to get along pretty good, so maybe this cute little diner date doesn't have to be the first and last one? I would love to hang out with you again if you're ever up for it!"

“Yeah, same,” Chase’s brain was malfunctioning. This whole night was unexpected and Tiffannie was a whirlwind of emotions. He found her endearing. He didn’t even understand how they got this far but here he was at a diner with the most gorgeous blonde babe he ever did see. He didn’t know if this was a good thing or bad thing seeing how he still didn’t know if they had anything in common. Still, he was intrigued. “I mean for the friend part… I’m not that great with opening up. I have Fin and my brother Tov but that’s really it. I can hang with their friends but I haven’t really clicked, if that makes sense? You’re different,” TNT admitted. Was this called growth? Was he actually being an approachable and reasonable person? This was extremely sappy for his liking so when the waiter brought the check he was quick to slap cash on the table, stand up, and nervously laugh to himself, “You can choose the next place! And the date. I’ll make time for you.” Fuck. He was just vomiting emotions. This was so unlike him.

“Yay! More dates are happening!” Tiffannie squealed with joy, clapping her heads together like she always did when she was excited about something. What had started off as a yucky night that had her questioning whether she wanted to remain in town or not had taken an unexpected turn for the best. Not only had she redeemed herself in the eyes of this former stranger, but she had gotten a new friend from it, too! Hopefully this meant her stay at Edenridge would be a lot less lonely. “How about in Palermo on Tuesday night-- maybe at seven?” she asked Chase, following his lead and standing up to leave. “I can get us the best seats in the house, and it’ll be my treat for you! Does that sound good?”

Having left the booth, Chase fixed his dark and kind stare at the girl he had randomly befriended. A shy smile appeared on his face as he took in how certain, confident, and cheerful she was. Tiffannie was really something else and she was really fucking cute. Hooking his thumbs in his pants’ pockets, he nodded and agreed, “Sounds perfect.”

It was a date.

Family dinners were a tradition for the Gonzalez family. At least one evening out of the week, the infamous group came together at Big Rey and Lupe‘s house to indulge in some good company, delicious homemade Mexican food and polite conversation. Normally, these dinners occurred on Sunday, as a way to enjoy some futbol and catch up with each other before the start of a new week. However, this week’s dinner had been plagued with small details that seemed like red flags in Aleyda Gonzalez’ eyes. The first red flag had been Big Rey’s request to move this week’s dinner to Saturday night. The patriarch of the family was well aware of the fact that he had three young adult children with active social lives, who most of the time had plans for their Saturday nights. There were also no major sporting events or special events taking place, and only a vague explanation about the sudden change was offered when Ley asked for the reason why. If it hadn’t been for the fact that she’d observed an increase in the patrolling of their crews around the locations she frequented, then she would’ve just brushed her off as Big Rey possibly planning some obscure surprise for them. Her sixth sense, however, was telling her that something bigger was happening.

After they had finished the majority of their meal and silence had settled in the dining room, Ley decided it was time to voice her concerns in an attempt to get a response from her elders. "I've noticed the Carlisle crew is doing more rounds around my place and Tresses than usual," the brunette observed, turning her attention to her father at the head of the table. "That have to do with you moving dinner to tonight instead of tomorrow?"

"Just a precaution, hija mía,” Big Rey finished dregs of his black coffee before reaching forward to the center table and the aged bottle of fine scotch that sat there. "The streets have been very loud as of late. Still, that’s your brother's territory now. If you’re concerned, bring it up with him.” Rey did not particularly enjoy passing the buck. He would’ve handled things a lot differently were he still the King Snake. Alas, he was not, and his first-born son now sat in the big chair.

Alarm bells went off in Aleyda's head as she let out an exasperated sigh and rolled her eyes. Red flag #2. Even if ReyRey didn't listen to their father's advice most of the time, Big Rey was always aware of what was happening in their turf. Rarely anything happened in the Southside without the former leader knowing. Additionally, it wasn’t like her father to brush off her worries with such a generic answer like ‘the streets are very loud’. They were the family members of the current and former kingpins of the reigning criminal enterprise of Edenridge: the streets were always loud for them. What kind of bullshit explanation was that?

Fuelled by her annoyance, Ley chose to do as her father said and redirect her questions to the appropriate personnel at the table. "Then I guess I'll ask you," the brunette drawled, now turning her attention towards her older brother. "Is there any particular reason your crew has amped up the patrolling lately? Because I feel like something's going on that nobody’s telling me about. And if something's going on, I'd like to be aware of it so that I don’t get blindsided with it and I can keep Rafael safe."

With a mouthful of steak, ReyRey’s dark eyes fell upon his sister. As he prepared to speak, his father shot him a look that he had seen one too many times: don’t dare talk with your mouthful at your mother’s table. It was a simple enough message. Once he had finished chewing, he swallowed the tender meat and washed it down with a beer. "Like Papi said, it’s a precaution. This letter business has everyone on edge. Who's to say the Gorta or even the Angels don’t flip their shit and start a war? You and my sobrino are safe.”

“Do not curse at my table, Reynaldo,” Lupe chimed in with venomous intent in her native tongue. She was a strong and fierce woman, and a beauty that belied the stress she was under from her family's business. She had to be, with a brood like this. “Aleyda, can you pass me the peppers?” The older woman sighed greatly before grabbing the bowl her daughter handed her and brushing her long, raven locks back into a bun. “I heard from Uncle Pedro today. Your cousin Enrique is going to go on tour. Isn’t that exciting?”

Red flag #3: her mother purposely changing the subject. Much like her daughter Aleyda, Guadalupe Gonzalez wasn’t the type of woman who shied away from controversial or difficult conversations. She was one to bite the bullet and rip the bandaid right off to avoid misunderstandings or bigger confrontations down the line. By this point, nervousness started to settle in the pit of Ley’s stomach. Whatever her family was holding back from her (and she knew they were holding something back from her) must be serious.

”Rico is an idiot, ma. He’s lucky he can sing cos the boy doesn’t have a pair of brain cells to rub together.”

A hand came crashing down with a firm grasp onto ReyRey’s shoulder. His father was a huge man; much larger than the already imposing R2. ”Mijo, be happy for your cousin and shut up,” Big Rey returned his attention to his daughter and smiled. ”How’s my grandson? I might take him and you out tomorrow, head into Boston for the day if you don’t have plans?”

As if on queue, a pair of one small but mighty footsteps could be heard thundering down the hall and making their way to the dining room. It wasn't long before the figure of a small child came into view. With his sand-colored hair, fair skin, button nose and blue eyes, it was impossible to deny that this little boy was the son of Cameron Hyde. But the bright, innocent, pure-hearted grin on his chubby-cheeked face was as opposite from his father as it could ever be.

"Papa!" the little boy shrieked, running straight to Big Rey's chair and excitedly wrapping his arms around his grandfather.

The cute display of affection brought a momentary smile and relief to the tense Aleyda's face. The bond her son shared with her father had begun the second he had laid eyes on the little boy. That day he’d first met his firstborn grandchild, Big Rey had cried like a baby. He had cradled the newborn boy in his large arms, peppering him with kisses and cuddles while making promises to love, care and protect him unconditionally: just as he had done with his three children. In many ways, Big Rey was the father figure in Rafael’s life-- and Ley wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Mi nieto! Rafael!” Rey held his grandson close in a hug. He loved this little boy more than anything. In spite of the knowledge of the evil from which he was born, little Rafi was family. There was an overcast cloud, a specter that hung over their heads and Rey would not be lying if he didn’t worry that that same darkness sat in the blood of his grandchild.

R2 looked at his father and nephew and began to tap on the table rhymically, biting his tongue. He wanted to say something, he was desperate to say something. He loved his nephew but the older he got, the more physical features of his degenerate father he saw in him. Unable to contain his feelings any longer, ReyRey turned to his sister, gripping onto his beer bottle. ”He’s out, Aleyda”

Mika rolled his eyes at Rey Rey’s tactless approach in revealing that. It was one thing to let her know, but immediately Mika saw the sudden terror on his sister’s face. It was so obvious that silence befell the dinner table and midway through a sip of his Modelo, he closed his eyes only to open them back up when he noticed that very same feeling that he felt last night, the same expression of disbelief that he saw on Ley’s face.

“And he’s here. In Edenridge.” Mika’s words came as he looked to Ley, uncertain what else he could say, but more importantly, trying not to let it be known in both his words and his face the well-guarded secret he has been keeping about the true nature of his relationship with Cameron Hyde.

What did they just say?

As the meaning and implication of her brothers’ words sunk in, Aleyda froze on the spot. For the better part of three years, the Gonzalez girl had been able to live her life in a somewhat content state knowing that the man who had mentally and physically abused her would be spending at least ten years behind bars. Justice being served certainly did nothing to help her forget the difficult times she had faced when they were dating, nor did it appease her paranoia or keep her from sleeping with a knife under her pillow-- but it brought her a little ease to know that he’d be paying dearly for his crimes on the inside. With Cameron in prison, she was able to slowly start healing her trauma and putting herself back together, all while building a better life for her and her young son. Hyde being out meant that any peace she’d obtained was gone, and that her and Rafaei’s life were now in the gravest of dangers.

With this realization settling in, Aleyda felt as if all of the oxygen in the world had suddenly evaporated, leaving her deflated lungs struggling to breathe. Her heart was thumping wildly in her chest, eyes wide with terror as a heavy load settled on her stomach. She wanted so desperately to cry, to scream until her throat was raw, to bang her fists against the wall until her knuckles were bloody. But her body remained paralyzed in place instead, as if being held down hostage by the chair she was occupying.

“There’s no way he can be out yet...” the girl muttered hoarsely, as if speaking any louder would invoke the presence of her ex. “I thought he still had at least seven years left inside. They promised me he would do all of his time on the inside!”

Mika looked around the table and the expressions on his father and brother and his other mother said volumes. He couldn’t fathom what horrors his sister was entertaining right now. That volatile relationship with his half-brother was horrific and the fear that he saw in Ley’s eyes was equal to the dread and internal panic he felt last night when Hyde surprised him at his place. And after a few moments of thinking and after Mika took another sip of his drink, he let his eyes fall on Ley. “They let him out, Ley. On good behavior.”

"On 'good behavior'?" Aleyda repeated in disbelief, her eyebrows raised while voice took on that slight pitch it always did when she was about to start yelling. "On 'good behavior'?!" she cried out again, leaping from her seat so abruptly that the chair clattered backwards, scaring the wide-eyed Rafael into hiding his face in Big Rey’s chest and hugging his grandfather even tighter. "So you're telling me that that you can fuck with someone's mental state so badly they can't get through a day without nightmares or feeling like a worthless piece of garbage, threaten to kill someone numerous times, push and grab someone by the hair and all around hard enough to leave bruises, and beat someone up so bad they had broken ribs, a broken collarbone, concussions, contusions and had to be put in a fucking medical coma because of brain swelling while almost losing their baby in the process-- and get off on good fucking behavior?! That's fucking bullshit!"

As her chest rose and fell with panic and fury, Aleyda’s eyes fell on her small son. Still in his grandfather’s arms, she took note of Rafael looking up at her with the same wide-eyed terror she knew she used to have on her face when she looked up at his father, and felt her heart shatter into a million pieces with shame and regret. When her son had been born, Aleyda had sworn to be the best version of herself she could possibly be. The circumstances of Raf’s conception and his arrival to the world hadn’t been ideal, but his survival against all odds was enough to make his mother vow to offer him nothing short of everything he ever wanted and deserved. He was her little miracle, the calm after the storm, the sunshine after the rainstorm. This cursing, wrathful woman standing in front of him wasn’t the soft-spoken, affectionate, loving, patient, gentle mommy Raf knew. This was a woman that resembled a man she never wanted to cross paths with again: his father.

She couldn't let her little boy see her like this.

Before she could scare Rafael even further, the tearful Aleyda stormed into the hallway and leaned against the concrete wall. She tried to regulate her rattling breathing and racing heartbeat unsuccessfully, getting increasingly more desperate with each second. Eventually, her mind, spirit and body just gave up the fight, and every ounce of energy was drained from her. Slowly, Ley let her body sink to the floor underneath her feet, curled up in herself, and began to break down, sobbing so loudly and uncontrollably it set her throat on fire.

Big Rey looked at his two sons and shook his head. How could they be so blasé with this information? They know what that monster did to his baby girl. They know the pain that she endured at his fists. “Idiotas!” The Emperor Snake hissed. He handed Rafi off to Lupe, pressing a kiss on top of his little head. “Take him in the garden, mi amor,” And once his wife and grandson were out of earshot, Rey’s large fist crashed down hard onto the table. “You happy now, Reynaldo? Mikhail? We could’ve dealt with this quietly!” He got up to his feet and followed his daughter into the hallway. Rey crouched down to her level and lifted her sobbing form from the floor and into his large arms.

"He almost killed me!" Aleyda wailed into her father's chest in between sobs, holding onto him in desperation as her whole world seemed to be spinning out of control and crashing around her. "He almost beat me to death, Daddy, and those motherfuckers just let him out like that to try and kill me again?! Why the fuck would they do that to me?! Why?! When is it going to end?!"

“We will figure this out, mija,” Big Rey held his little girl close, as close as he could possibly do so. Cameron Hyde was a psychopath, a rabid animal, he was the beast lurking beneath the collective bed of this town. Yet he was untouchable. His father, Mikhail’s father, was a friend and a partner: therefore any action from the Gonzalez' or the Serpents would end in war. Whatever they did-- and they would do something-- it would have to be done smartly. Cameron Hyde will not live to see his next birthday, count on that. “Papi will figure this out.”

Mika felt an immense weight start to swell inside him, building from his stomach as Ley went on an emotionally-charged tangent about his monster of a half-brother. He knew she would react like this. With how horrendously Hyde beat her, Mika wasn’t surprised but it didn’t make witnessing it first hand any easier and knowing that he kept such a large-scale secret from her about certain things any easier. To top it off? Big Rey made him feel even worse for saying anything regardless if he was probably just as afraid for Ley as Mika was.

As he glanced over at Ley, who sat on the floor with Big Rey consoling her, that feeling only worsened. “We did the right thing, right? The news would have reached her ears so it was better we told her than some slimeball looking to get a rise, right?” Mika asked Rey Rey, keeping his tone as low as he could but still loud enough that his brother heard him. He felt like he had to justify playing his part to make himself feel better, but the truth was Mika wasn’t certain if they should have said anything to begin with.

ReyRey looked at his uncontrollable sister. She had every right to feel as she did. The monstrosity she once claimed to have loved didn’t deserve to live. He turned his attention to Mika, his fist balled up against the table. “We did the right thing. Better she hear it from us rather than see him on the street.” R2 got up to his feet and went to his mama’s fridge to get another beer. He looked out the window to see Lupe playing with Rafi, who had seemingly already forgotten about his mother's outburst and was chasing his grandmother around the yard with his signature beaming smile. “You need to let us know what he does, brother. You’ll be our eyes and ears on him.”

I was afraid you’d say that.

But Mika knew that Rey Rey was right. He didn’t even disagree. Of course, he would keep them all in the loop. Because it wasn’t just Ley who feared Hyde — Mika had similar feelings of dread for his brother. The dread of what Cameron Hyde would do in any situation. Just being near him last night brought up all of those painful memories of his brother, but there was obviously more than that. “I’m meeting him tonight,” Mika admitted, his voice staying at the same, careful tone that it was before. “He wants breakfast, so I might know more about his plans… maybe.”

ReyRey turned and made his way back over to the table, placing his free hand on the chair he was previously sitting on. “Once we know what he’s up to, we’ll make our move. What he did, what he could do; it’s unforgivable.” ReyRey knew that he himself was not a good man. He was under no illusion on that but Hyde was something else entirely.

He remembered years prior, when he had just taken iced from his father as the Kingsnake. There were rumblings of a kid in the streets, someone so violent, so sadistic that there was a wash of fear running through the streets like blood. This was a person who wasn’t just shooting people or stabbing people, he was choking them. Drowning them. Breaking every bone in their body and forcing their families to watch. One paper decided to name him: ”The Hellmouth beneath our quiet town has opened and out stepped the Devil incarnate”. Rey knew then he would be trouble. Had he known then what he did now, Cameron Hyde would’ve been buried long ago.

ReyRey glanced at his grieving sister and father in the other room. Aleyda didn’t know everything. She didn’t know of her ex-lover’s connection to her adopted brother sitting at the table. They were all protecting her.

They had failed before. They wouldn’t again.

Mika lamented the complicated position he was in. Rey Rey talked with such confidence and conviction about dealing with Mika’s devilish half-brother. A large part of him agreed and may have been on board, but what was to do with these feelings that he had. Hyde was a monster who had proven to Mika that devils existed, but there were very rare moments that his older half-brother made him feel wanted and accepted by his own blood. So, suffice to say, his thoughts and feelings on the matter weren’t as simple as yes and no.

But no matter what he felt about it, the one thing he could agree on was that Hyde shouldn’t ever be allowed near Ley again. “Whatever the cost, we do it for our sister,” Mika heard himself say, but the words didn’t register in a way that made him hear it back in his head. He followed Rey Rey’s gaze and his priority to protect Ley was clearer to him than ever.

She couldn’t remember much.

Cutting through Lyon Park was not an unusual thing on her evening jog. Most people would feel unsafe doing so but not Bev; she had protection. ReyRey had promised her and her family safe passage through the Southside in exchange for a small slice of their house flipping business. Seemed reasonable in Edenridge terms. It boggled the mind then as to why she remembered so clearly being pulled into the tree line and beaten, so savagely. She would try to fight back but whoever had accosted her was three sizes bigger.

After being knocked out, Beverly had awoken to this empty room. It looked old, dirty and the floor, God the floor was coated in what she could only assume to be old, dried blood. The terror she felt in that moment was something spectacular. This room was so eerily quiet, deathly silent save for Beverly’s own heartbeat, which currently felt like it was about to explode from her chest. She couldn’t move. Her hands and feet were bound to the chair, the only thing besides herself in the room and a small table that stood before her was another seat on the opposing side.

Wait.

There was something! A slight sound, a faint whisper, footsteps! She tried to open her mouth to scream but nothing came out, the gag in there was muting her. Beverly’s tear stained eyes widened as the old, rusted door edged open and in walked two silhouetted figures. The larger of the two walked behind her, his face shrouded in darkness. The other stepped into the light. That face! A fresh face. A fresh start. It was the fucking Mayor.

“Good evening Beverly, thank you for having the good sense to be frightened.”

His voice was like butter, it was designed that way. His appearance was youthful and immaculate. Presentation is everything. From the fine pressed suit, to the short boy band style hair and five o’clock shadow from sleepless nights trying to help his beloved community; Theodore Grimm was a vision of a man. Most of Eden’s population loved him; he was everything one could want in a public official. Then there was the rest, the people who knew the real Teddy Grimm. A boy who grew up on the Southside before vanishing. A boy who, when looked at closely, embodied everything that was truly wrong with the cursed place.

He took the seat opposite of Beverly, crossing his legs and interlocking his fingers across his lap. He watched the bound woman for a moment, his brown/hazel eyes taking her in. It was as if he was reading her like one reads a book, soaking in all the possible information that he could before speaking. Finally, he reached into his jacket, not breaking eye contact once as he pulled a gun from it and placed it down onto the table.

“I am hoping that this…transaction of ours can come to a most satisfactory of endings; otherwise I have no problem, no problem at all, with going to your little girl's school…what is her name?” His tone was playful, almost sing songy. “…Of course Neveah. Yes, Neveah, and ripping her eyes out and feeding them to your elderly mother in the guise of her favourite, meatball sub from the Godmothers. So I suggest you do not, push me, Mrs O’Driscoll. Remember, you cannot lose if you do not play.”

The way he spoke. It was enthralling. He did not carry the same New England twang as did so many in the area. He sounded like Kelsey Grammar or like Cary Grant from the old movies that Beverly used to watch with her mother. Everything was so smooth, his cadence almost melodic. It was hypnotising but also, absolutely terrifying.

“How well, do you know your Edenridge history, Beverly? I must confess I was not the most..attentive student but I did really enjoy my history class, especially when the topic was local lore. Have you heard, dearest, of the Southside Reaper? His tales are rarely told outside of the snake pit but please, if you’ll indulge me, I’d like to weave you a yarn.”

Teddy folded his arms like a father, which he was, about to tell a bedtime story to a child. Yet the look in those eyes, this was not going to be Snow White and the Seven dwarves.

“Once upon a time, there were four brothers. Rusty, Rocky, Rooster and, of course, Reaper. Each of them had a unique set of skills. Rusty, he was the heater. He would take a bullet for his brothers, a shield around them from a world that was out to get them. Rocky, he was their collective heart. He saw what the others didn’t and felt everything. Rooster he was, he had a knack for fixing wounds, let's say. And then Reaper, we'll say he was efficient.”

The second man in the room, Beverly didn’t see much of him beyond a waif of blonde hair. He stood behind her, each of his hands on both of her shoulders. They were adorned in rings, his wrists in trinkets. She recognised them. This was the man that stood silent behind the Mayor during every appearance; his security. Laslow, was it?

“One day, the brothers came across a horrendous scene. An Irishman lay bloody but unbowed down at the train tracks, cowering from the bullets of unknown assailants. Of course, Rocky and Rooster took to caring for the man. Like the good big brother he was, Rusty drew their fire whilst the Reaper became a wraith and systematically took out everyone with cold precision. If I am not mistaken, which I rarely am, that man was your father, Mrs. O’Driscoll and if you haven’t figured it out by now, I am the Reaper and I have come to collect on a debt.”

The Reaper.

Those words made her heart sink even further into her chest. Of the many horror stories of the last, his was one told to every child on the Southside, a bogeyman used to scare kids away from the oh so easy life of crime that calls to them when living beyond Carlisle. Before she was frightened, now she was terrified.

“My colleague here is about to put a contract in front of you, predated to a few months ago naturally, which will sign over the land that you currently own on Charter Hill to the city. Then, once you’ve done that, you are going to take this nine millimetre, your husbands, you know the one. You are going to take it, put it in your mouth and blow your brains out. Now don’t worry about the mess, I pay people a lot of money to maintain standards around here. We will take you home, where your darling husband will find you. My brother, will then arrest him for your murder and darling, sweet little Neveah will become a ward of the state but please, do not be alarmed, I will make sure she is taken care of. The sins of the father shall only be held against his own child, not the rest of his family.”

Teddy motioned with his eyes as Sebastian began to remove Beverly’s gag from her mouth.

She knew there was no use in screaming. No use in calling for help. Maybe she could sweet talk him? She’d play ball, give him what he wanted and then she and Neveah could leave town and never look back. Beverly had often thought about it. She never wanted to get mixed up with these sort of people, she inherited her fathers bad luck. “I’ll sign anything please, don’t hurt my baby. You don’t have to kill me,” Her voice was breathless, she tried to take in the musty, copper tasting air as best she could but it was making her gag.

“Sweetheart, sign the papers and you have my word no harm will come to your child…” Teddy got up to his feet and placed his hands into his pockets. He towered over the woman and his face had not changed since he walked in the room, utterly calm and composed, like this was a normal conversation between friends. “Yet you, you made me ask twice and I so do hate repeating myself.”

Seizing the hour with her father not having arrived home yet, he told that woman he was running late, Kylee picked his office lock with a bobby pin. Little tricks she’s taught herself over the years, getting into trouble with Roddy, her Shaggy. She would rather go through her father’s things than talk to him directly. He would just know she was getting involved in something she shouldn’t and make her feel guilty for it. All she had right now was her small Scooby Doo crew. They were the people she spent the most time with. Her boyfriend and her friend. She couldn’t let them down by going to the next meeting empty. When the door opened, Kylee did a quiet victory pose before slipping into her father’s domain, gingerly closing the door behind her. First phase complete. Infiltrated the Boss’ lair.

Now there was no time to waste. Straight to his desk to find anything to help clear his name but also see if he had any information that could push them forward. Her dad was the mayor! He had to have an idea who the perpetrator was. She looked at his computer and debated trying to unlock it. Unfortunately she wasn’t a hacker. If the information was anywhere it was there but she couldn’t think of the password for the life of her. There were no hints that she was aware of anywhere. Instead she rummaged through his papers, ledgers, his calendar to see if there was anything of note. Her father was an organized man. He wrote down all his expenses. They were likely coded to sound a certain way, but it was only a matter of time Kylee would decode that too. That was neither here nor there. She had to focus. What could she find, if anything, that helped her not be suspicious of her father?

“Kylee Rose?”

Teddy stood in the doorway of his office, hands behind his back in a strong stance akin to a military man. His voice was as calm as it always was, his face neutral if not slightly warm towards his youngest child. He took a single step forward into his throne room and closed the door behind him. By the frazzled look on his daughter's face he could tell she was looking for something but what could she be looking for in his office? “Precious, what are you doing in here? You know no one is to be in here when I am not in the house.” The Mayor of Eden took another deeper step forward and tilted his head ever so slightly.

“And do not lie to me, I will know.”

Immediately perking up but like a scared puppy that got caught eating human food, Kylee put her hands behind her back and covered her misdeeds with a smile, “Daddy!” Why was he home already?! She thought she had thirty more minutes. That bitch lied to her or didn’t know how to track time. “You see… tonight’s a big night for you and I wanted to find a tie! You remember when I got to pick your ties all the time when Mama Prue was alive? I thought I could do that again, seeing how the town’s on fire. A little good luck charm from me.” While Kylee was fantastic at lying, her father was the only person who had the best read on her. He did raise her after all. As he watched her with stern yet loving eyes, Kylee sidestepped away from his desk.

Of course. Teddy had been too busy orchestrating a large new venture that he had neglected his little girl. Kylee was probably sad and nostalgic because that friend of hers, what was his name? Robert? Ricky? Rodney? The Callahan boy. He had left town. The two of them had been inseparable; Ted didn’t much care for him. It must’ve gotten her thinking about Prue, they were ever so close. “I’m sorry I’ve been busy, child,” He manoeuvred himself around the desk to face her and placed his hands around her shoulders. “Of course you can pick a tie.” In his peripheral, the Mayor noted a small red stain on his short sleeve right by his cuff link. “I could also do with a fresh shirt, it’s hot out there today. Why don’t you grab one from my closet and we can talk a little.” He released her from his grip and motioned to a nearby door.

As obedient as ever, Kylee strolled to his closet to pick a nice shirt and a tie out. She glanced back at her father, contemplating and debating what colours would be nice. He looked best in black. Sure, he had pointed out it was hot today but black still looked phenomenal on him. It was his color. If the event wasn’t formal she would do away with the tie. It was summer and black shirts could easily be semi-dressy while still being casual. Unfortunately, it was formal. So tie it is!

Teddy took off his jacket and tie and began to unbutton his shirt to reveal his strongly built body, littered with scars of the days past that he darent talk about. Image was everything. He kept in shape with a meticulous Patrick Bateman like routine; there was a reason that housewives and young female voters always liked him and it wasn’t his stance on education. “I hear you may have found yourself a boyfriend?”

When she chose her set and he asked the question she dreaded to hear, Kylee kept her face toward the closet, away from his. She had to put her game face on. She couldn’t lie to him, she wasn’t necessarily subtle with Wes. He was bound to find out eventually. “Mhm! You’ve been so busy so I didn’t know when to tell you.” Turning on her heel with shirt and tie in hand, Kylee pranced back to her father, her arms stretching out to offer him his new wear for the night. “I really like this one, daddy.” Her statement was directed to Wes but could also stand for the clothes she picked out for him.

The Mayor took the clothing from his baby girl and began to re-dress himself. He reached into the desk drawer and took out a pair of music note cufflinks that he hooked into his sleeve. “You are a woman now, Kylee and I trust your decisions wholeheartedly but…” He popped his collar and wrapped the tie around his neck. “…be weary, be smart. You are the Mayor’s little girl, MY little girl and this boy, from my understanding, is a reporter from Pinehurst? Seems a bit too coincidental.”

While not having her emotions written on her face, Kylee was shocked to hear that Wesley was from Pinehurst. That was something that could’ve been easily brought up in a conversation at night, and yet he didn’t tell her. She wasn’t like the other Edenridgers with a blood feud with that town. She wasn’t even born in Edenridge! The hurt started setting in. She was blind sighted out of hope and love. She and Wes had so many similar attributes and yet, he didn’t want to tell her much of anything. He would drop little things here and there like his nerd background but nothing of emotional value that keeps a couple together.

When he was finished with his tie, Teddy pulled on his jacket before taking a seat at his desk. He took a hold of Kylee’s hand and pulled her gently ever so closer to him. “Don’t promise me, guarantee me that you will be careful. Give me your word, Kylee Rose.”

“I will, daddy,” Kylee was sad, really fucking sad, but if she displayed any of those emotions her father would go out of his way to make this his problem. “You look rather dashing, Mr. Grimm,” Kylee brightly smiled as her father released her hand. When he did so, she adjusted his tie, “People are suspicious. They think you might have something to do with the letters. I know you don’t though. I will do my best to protect your name. Do you have any idea who could be causing so much chaos?”

She was fishing. Kylee was a journalist herself or at least she liked to think she was. Teddy did enjoy listening to her show first thing in the morning, hearing her on the radio did leave a little spark in his heart but then it was usually blown out by whatever fire he had to deal with on the day. “I’ve been on the police force every day since the first letter,” He didn’t mind Kylee choosing his looks for him, she had an eye for this. Hailey not so much and the boys, well they were the boys. He had no qualms calling Ky his favourite child. “Unfortunately, they’re small town cops with no money, they’re not interested. There are a handful who try but they’re set up to fail.” The Mayor glanced up at his baby and smiled; she was so much like her mother. “No, Precious, I have no idea who is behind it. I have theories like everyone else but that’s all I have. Not for lack of trying mind you.”

Teddy stood up to his feet and made his way over to the window; from his office at the Grimm estate, he could see the entirety of Edenridge. He could see from Scott Street, to Carlisle, Eastbrook and West; a map of his empire. “Why don’t you bring this boy to my announcement tonight? I’d like to meet him.”

Trailing behind him, Kylee glanced up at her father in adoration. Her eyes went from his stern yet chiselled face to the gorgeous view. Edenridge kept growing. A town this small with so much potential, so much life. She hoped the curse would break so that people could live in peace. Her father could be at peace.Peace in Eden was a beautiful dream. That, however, might be too much to ask for. “I will,” she answered. The hurt still sitting inside her. Was she a fool to trust this outsider? Did he even care about her? Did he even need her? Time and time again, Kylee felt disposable and maybe that’s exactly what she was. Natalia would agree. She was utter trash. “I think that will be good. You’re the most important person to me so it only makes sense for you to meet him.”

Teddy turned to his daughter and placed his hands on either side of her face. “Kylee, you are my youngest. You are the best of me. You are, along with your sister and your brothers the most important thing in the world to me. Family above all. I want all of you by my side as I right what is wrong with this place.” He leaned forward and gently kissed her forehead like only a father could. Returning his gaze to the town he controlled, the Mayor put one hand on the window and kept the other at Kylee’s cheek. “I know you meant well but do not step foot in this office again when I am not in the house. Do you understand?”

Absolutely devastated and defeated at her own insecurities with her relationship with Wes, Kylee nodded with a frown, “I understand, daddy. I’m sorry.” She was in over her head in finding the culprit of the letters and being the girl of Wes’ dream. She would never be deserving of love and that fucking hurt.

Freshly moved into her dead love’s bedroom, Penelope had a little under a month to get used to this, living at the Deckers. She saw Rhonda everyday now right before she left (around breakfast time) and when she returned. Poppy spent days just laying in Charlie’s bed imagining all the things he thought about while he was alone in this room. His room. From time to time, she would look out the window towards Allegra and Mordechai’s new room, her old one, and give them a wave like he would with her. This wasn’t so bad. This was a little painful but she was managing. If anything, it made her feel at peace.

Penelope was grateful that the same day Allegra came to town, Rhonda accepted her. Her second mother looked forward to the company. It was a no brainer she would say yes. Poppy did find it a little weird to live in the room that now that she thought about it, she was rarely in. Charlie was always over her place. She didn’t really need to climb his window like he did with her. She did enter his bedroom a few times throughout the year, like when he was sick or when he would randomly text her ‘hey’ but was too bruised to climb her window. One night she came unannounced. That night was one of the worst nights they had because they argued. She didn’t even remember what the argument was about, all she knew was he broke her heart that night. That was neither here nor there and all in the past. The past was just that, the past.

The feeling of nostalgia washed over her everyday, as if Charlie had only left to do business and would soon return. As if he went on about his day to pick up bagels with cream cheese to enter her bedroom unannounced, but still expected. Poppy could tell Rhonda cleaned in here, dusting his furniture lightly, making his bed, putting his books back after she took them out, right where she got them from; his things unchanged. Although the undertone was subtle, Poppy could feel his mother’s love throughout it all. Rhonda loved her son and Pops could only imagine how badly she missed him, remembering only the best of him. The man that Penelope loved.

His room was a poetic time capsule. His wall of books and vinyl records showed how absolutely passionate he was of the world around him. From classical literature, like Charles Dickens, Mark Twain, and William Shakespeare, to eclectic music (music was like literature to him) with a heavy lean toward Indie and Classic Rock, like Nada Surf, South to Meatloaf, and The Smiths; All which helped him through the night, keeping all the bad noise out of his head.

There was his desk, near his window, which had his computer, TV, and PlayStation on top of it. And now, his manuscript was laying on it, no longer hidden, waiting to be read. She still didn’t have the courage to read it. This was a lot of change for her in a small amount of time. Baby steps. That’s all she could do. Baby steps. Inside his desk were his writing supplies and notebooks he hadn’t touched yet. Under his desk, there was a small fridge and a box with his video games. Not too many games but enough to keep him busy. A lot of his money went to supporting his mother. The books and the records? Charlie was well liked (until that day). Uncle Campbell likely gave him some free records and even gave him discounted ones. The books were a collaborative effort from his mother, her family, her, himself, Beau, and etc. He was well loved, he just stopped seeing it, which sucked.

On the wall behind his bed frame, he had a small display that surrounded the Gallows poster. Around the poster he placed ripped pages of his favorite books. To the right of the poster, he had a framed picture of his friends, all the Southies she knew he loved. Then there was his door with a painted quote. His favorite quote ’There is a tide in the affairs of men…’ from Julius Caesar. Freshman year, she and him painted it. It was one of her fonder memories of him and with him, though they were stupid and ended up getting more paint on each other than the actual door.

In the background one of his records, Paint the Silence by South, played as she sat on his bed looking at her phone. Recently, Shannon was able to get Penelope to throw away her face masks. A shield for her during social situations. Shannon was reaching breakthroughs with her client and potentially curing her agoraphobia. A long hard battle of trust building and hoping Poppy would receive her. Since the night at the grave, the James girl was nothing but receiving. Listening and trying to change for the better. She needed to live.

Slowly but surely, Pops began wearing her nicer clothes that she hadn’t worn in years (they still fit her, even if she lost a lot of weight). Unfortunately for Decky, she still hadn’t returned his hoodie, but she also wasn’t wearing it everyday like she did throughout the past month. There was more color in Poppy’s skin and more emotion, no longer chained by grief. Her grief was still there but she was getting better control over it and how it dictates her life. She was getting there and everyone was noticing.

It was Monday and she had the day off from the cafe so she decided to take a leap of faith and wear a summer dress. Something she usually only wore to show off to Charlie. Her skin was pale as hell but at least she was exploring outside of jeans, tanks, hoodies, and Charlie’s jacket. She was still going to wear Charlie’s jacket. It was hers now, so that wouldn’t stop anytime soon, if at all. She needed at least one comfort item. Along with that, she wore black converse, put her hair up in a messy ponytail, and applied concealer and mascara. Can you believe it? She put makeup on! Not a lot, but enough to make her look less like a walking corpse and more like a human fucking being. And of course, she couldn’t forget her teardrop necklace that held Maxine’s ashes. Poppy fully loaded. Charlie’s jacket and Maxine’s teardrop were strictly mandatory and became a staple in her look.

Sitting on her bed, having gotten up earlier than usual, Poppy debated if she should text the crew - Jade, Decky, Allegra, and the kids - to see if they wanted to hang. She could visit her family’s house to tell Decks and Legs but the last time she did so, Decky was an unbecoming sight (he was basically naked). It might be better to text. She hummed to the tone of the song and it was clear as day that Charlie’s room became a safe haven for her. A place of peace. Her castle. She didn’t feel sad, mad, nor did she feel happy. She simply let herself be. Just be. Mrs. Ramsey was proud of her with all the progress she’s made. There was no doubt about that one.

It was nice to have sound in the house again. Rhonda had all but lived in silence for the last two years, save the shouting outside her window on any given day. Having the noise from her son’s record player bouncing off and around the walls of the house warned her heart.

MOTHER MURDER!

WITCH!

BLIND WHORE!

Ronnie had learned to convert the jibes into white noise, the same way she did when she got similar barbs about James. There were times that the words slipped through the gaps and penetrated the bubble she had surrounded herself. When they did that, she often wondered, what had she done to deserve her lot in life? Rhonda was not a suspicious sort. She did not believe in ghost stories or curses. Charlie did. Charlie had an entire theory about why they had the luck they did and it stemmed from Ronnie’s days at Edenridge High, when she was a cheerleader. The Unlucky Clovers curse.

The Deckers were not any kind of Edenridge royalty. They were not foundlings, they were not Serpents or Gorta. They were just a small family from Maine who moved here in the forties after World War II. Charlie did a family tree for them once, turns out she was Dutch, how fun. There was nothing special about them, they were just there. Then when Ronnie joined the Clovers, things began to change. She was already a knockout; tall, long legs, angular features and her eyes, those startling green eyes, the boys (and some girls) found it all too easy to fall in love with her. Yet Ronnie was quiet, bookish and never attended the cool kid parties.

But then she did.

When Rhonda ventured to a John O’Hara party, she didn’t expect to fall in love but she did. As soon as she walked into the mansion on Scott Street, she saw him. Maybe it was the long hair and the leather jacket? Maybe it was the way he played the guitar like he was fighting for his life? Whatever it was, when Ronnie saw James Strongbow, she was hooked immediately. Their dalliance was all too brief as James’ Gallows commitments tore him away from Eden all the time. It wasn’t fair for her to be waiting all the time. She understood that and let him go where he needed to. The problem was she would need him more now than ever.

When her parents died, Ronnie was seventeen. She had no other family to speak of and had to take care of herself. She had to drop out of school and get a job at the diner. She was there for years, unable to escape. She was working there the night she heard about the St Paul’s Cathedral fire and she was there when James, now going by Father Winters, walked about into her life. He had lost the long hair but he was still handsome but his face was sad, always sad. But again, they were only together a short time before he put a gun in his mouth. This time he left her, he left her with a gift, the best gift, Charlie Jay.

Charlie wondered if his mother had never been a Clover; then maybe her parents wouldn’t have died on their way to a game. If she wasn’t a clover, she wouldn’t have had to take menial work for no money. If she wasn’t a clover, maybe she wouldn’t be going blind. Ronnie always retorted, if she wasn’t a clover, she wouldn’t have had Charlie. No matter what he did, no matter what people thought of her, Rhonda did not regret her life. She did not regret loving James and she did not regret making Charlie. He was her little boy.

Her hand traced the braille paper with her fingertips. She still had vision, on a good day but she found it easier at this point just to lean into her disability. This letter had arrived a few days prior, she hadn’t the heart to tell Poppy yet but she knew she had to. Ronnie just wanted the girl to be comfortable before Charlie broke her heart again. Pulling herself to her feet, letter in hand, Rhonda made her way towards what was once her son's room, now belonging to his great love. She cracked open the door a touch and knocked twice.

“Hey baby girl, can I come in?”

“Oh, yes. Of course,” Penelope pocketed her phone inside Charlie’s jacket before rushing to the door. “Want to sit on the bed?” The young woman offered guidance as she propped the door open wider and gently laid her hand on her mother’s arm; Her mother not by blood but through love. “I hope the music isn’t too loud. It helps start my day right,” And keeps Charlie’s memory absolutely positive in her mind.

Living in the Decker household was a little bittersweet because Rhonda was supposed to be her mother-in-law. Rhonda was such a beautiful woman that had so much strength for her circumstances. No matter how hard things got Rhonda fought. She was a fighter. The best kind. Nothing Edenridge threw at her would take her down, and it was admirable to watch and see. Poppy could only imagine how much life hurt her. How many times she thought about giving up. And yet, here she was, allowing Poppy to stay with her and keeping Charlie’s memory alive.

Penelope knew in her heart that one day Charlie would make her his. All the grief and doubt, all the questions of whether or not he loved her or not, none of that matter. She waited for him. Waited for him to say three words. She waited and wouldn’t stop waiting even after death. That’s because she knew he loved her. He was the one for her. Her soulmate. But she knew better, Charlie communicated in prose. Poetry and lines from books. He was a socially awkward kid who put his fist in his mouth - metaphorically speaking - when he tried to express his vulnerability. Thinking back on all their moments, that’s one thing she loved about him. God, she loved him.

The Charlie she loved always found his way back to her and through action, they held each other close. Through action, they stood at each other’s side. Through action, she was always there. She never left him. She would never leave him. All she ever wanted was to be his constant, the one that grounded him and made him feel happy and safe. In her heart of hearts, she knew that was the love of her life and her future husband. She would’ve married him, if he were still alive. She loved him. After all this time, she still loved him. And that’s never going to change. He was her Forever.

“Is everything okay?” Penelope warmly asked, as she looked up at Rhonda with kindness and love.

Ronnie allowed herself to be led by Poppy to what was once her son’s bed. Having the young girl here had added so much life to the house, even if Penelope was still searching for a way to increase her own. Rhonda had spent many hours chatting with Victoria on the subject of the young Penelope James; on how she was a shell of her former self. Maxine’s premature death traumatised her; Charlie’s destroyed her. Yet Ronnie had seen such a change in the girl, she was rebuilding, slowly. She didn’t want to halt that progress but there was something that Poppy needed to know.

“I’m not sure,” Rhonda responded as she sat down next to her son’s great love. Today she could see shapes and a little colour. Tomorrow, perhaps there would be more, most likely less. She was having more bad days than good ones recently. She entwined her fingers with Penelope’s and smiled. “You know it’s funny, when I found out that I was pregnant, after I got over the initial pray to God moment, I thought to myself, I would love to have a little girl.” Her cloudy green eyes danced around the room in reminiscence. “I could teach her makeup, how to do her hair, and teach her how to dance. Then nine months later, I get Charlie Jay. You know he’s named after my mother? And instead of learning how to color coordinate, he’s teaching me about Wainright. Now you’re here, the daughter I always wanted.”

With all her heart, Rhonda adored Poppy, she truly did. Even with her vision, she could see that her son was in absolute love with this girl. It was in his cadence, in the way he morphed into a competent different person when she was in the room, in a good way. It was in the way, late at night, that he would recite texts of love before climbing through her bedroom window. Rhonda always knew. Her face soured somewhat at a memory. Charlie was so much like his father in many ways, not all of them good.

“Penelope, I’m glad you’re here.”

Penelope squeezed Rhonda’s hands, if only she had come sooner. There was a sadness in Rhonda that the girl could feel simply by her aura. If Poppy hadn’t fallen apart, she could’ve been here to take care of her. The grief was too heavy at the time and all she could do was focus on herself and her grief. It was a selfish thing but no matter how hard she tried, everything was so fucking painful and all she could do was internalize. She made it this far because she completely shut down and closed off from the world, but like Charlie said, it was time to live.

There was no use in regretting and wishing things went differently. So many things could’ve been done differently, but what was the point of thinking about life like that? Penelope was drowning and finally, she had her head above water. She was here now and that’s what was important. “I’m glad to be here, mama.” There were only two people Poppy considered her mother and one of them was in this room with her. “How are you holding up? I’m sorry I haven’t checked on you sooner. It’s not that I forgot you or anything. I really do love you.”

“Baby girl, don’t worry about me,” Rhonda smiled sweetly at the younger woman. “I made my peace with the world a long time ago. You on the other hand, you’ve still got some fighting to do.” She leaned in and kissed the top of Poppy’s head. She really was such a sweet girl and if the world were a different place, Ronnie would be proud to call her daughter. “I love you too, by the way,” And she meant those words. She had watched a bright, sparkling young child blossom into a beautiful woman. One of the last clear memories she had was graduation day. Rhonda couldn’t go for obvious reasons but Vicky was kind enough to take pictures and although sad, Poppy looked radiant.

She was dragging it out; she didn’t want to. She was scared. Rhonda Decker didn’t hide from a fight though and if she could teach Penelope anything during their time together, it would be to never stop fighting. “What did Charlie tell you about his Dad?”

“His part in the Gallows. The fire. His mental health. The aftermath and how it impacted you. Charlie didn’t like talking about his dad much. Occasionally, he’d bring something up but then he would move to the next best thing, quickly. I had to piece it together after some time. I don’t think he really wanted to burden me so… he just didn’t tell me things. To protect me, I guess.” Briefly, Penelope’s tone saddened as she thought about all the times Charlie failed to express himself to her. For anyone else they wouldn’t last in a friendship like that but for Poppy she couldn’t help but wait for him to open up to her. In his time. Always in his time. She waited for him to see her. Really see her. See that she would always be there. Come rain or come shine, she trusted him and would never leave his side. Though it hurt so bad, it was her and Charlie. Always her and Charlie. “Sorry I don’t have anything more… some friend I am…”

“No!” Ronnie interrupted. “No. Don’t ever make yourself feel like you weren’t enough because he didn’t share enough. I love my son but he had his ways which I never agreed with.” The older woman looked towards the piece of paper in her hand. The time had come to tell Poppy another heartbreaking home truth about her beloved.

“When I was with James, he wasn’t himself or at least he wasn’t how I remembered him. After the fire, he just seemed so lost. I knew from the off that whatever we had wasn’t pure, it wasn’t real. It was a symptom of his growing illness.” Rhonda releases her grip on Poppy’s hand and passes her the note; a letter. It was two pages, one normal and one in braille. “He liked to disappear for weeks at a time and I didn’t question it. I wanted to let him do what he needed to. All I knew was that he was going back to the reservation where he was born; Blue Hills.”

The Blue Hill Reservation was a little ways away, around two hours in a car. It was a place nestled in a small valley between Boston and Salem. It was fairly small and definitely struggled financially based on what James used to tell her. She had heard that most people there were good, hardworking people who had fallen on hard times.

“Does the name Mitena mean anything to you?”

Deeply staring at the letters, Penelope shook her head, having no clue what Mitena meant. “No ma’am, I’ve never heard of it,” That sinking feeling crept in her chest once more. She wasn’t so much different than the woman sitting beside her. Charlie had his secrets. She kept finding more of them over time. Maybe what she had with Charlie wasn’t pure either; it wasn't real. Maybe their love for one another was only something fabricated because of his growing illness. The sadness and doubt flushed over her. She was doing so well too, keeping these feelings at bay. Did Charlie not love her like she loved him? “What does it mean?” Her voice broke, as she glanced up from the letters to look at Rhonda.

“Mitena is a girl that Charlie and I met during your freshman year at Eden. She came from the Blue Hill Reservation. She was James’s daughter that he fathered during our time together. Poppy, she’s Charlie’s sister.”

Ronnie’s mind drifted back to that day. It was a few days removed from the Davies girls death and Charlie was doing a genealogy report. It flagged that his father had signed another birth certificate a few weeks after Charlie himself was born. They chased the lead to a young girl in the Blue Hills who had just lost her Mom. After much cajoling, Charlie and Mitena met in a coffee shop and talked for hours and then went their separate ways. Rhonda didn’t know if her son wanted a relationship with this girl, based on this brand new letter, it was fairly obvious he did.

“He said he didn’t want to know her so we only ever met her the once or at least, that’s what I thought. That letter in your hand? It says Charlie Jay wrote to her every week, that they exchanged gifts and he sent her money once a month.”

“Oh,” was Penelope’s initial response. What did Rhonda want her to do with this information? Why would Poppy knowing Charlie had a sister be important, in any way? He had a sister and he didn’t care to tell her. A sister he wrote to frequently and sent her money. Why was it whenever she seemed to rebuild and heal, everything fell apart just as fast? “I… I don’t understand why you’re telling me this,” the young girl breathed, looking away from her second mother figure.

With a lost stare, she searched around the room, searching for answers but only seeing him. Everywhere she saw him. All she saw was as him. Swallowing hard, she sat there, feeling that drowning sensation once more, where no land was in sight. Falling deeper and deeper into her own grief. “I’m so tired, mama. I can’t handle this tide… it’s like crashing into me again and again and again. I get my head above water, I breathe, and then I’m pulled under again. There’s nothing to grab onto and I’m too deep to stand up… I’m tired of this feeling. I don’t think I can do this anymore. I wished Charlie had killed me.” She wanted to die.

“No!” The older woman said. The poor girl was hurting as she had every right to. Nobody knew Charlie like Poppy did, not even Rhonda. They were a part of the same person and when he died, a part of her did as well. Her recovery has been slow and it had been difficult and now all that hard work was being undone. “No! Don’t you dare!” Ronnie wrapped her arms around the young girl and pulled her into her motherly embrace. “I can’t pretend to know why he would keep this from you, I don’t know why Charlie did a lot of the things he did but what I do know is that if he could see the pain he was causing you, it would kill him. He loved you and I love you too, you are one of the little joys in my life.”

She had made peace with a lot of the sadness in her life. What Charlie did, what James did, what happened to her parents and her eyesight, it all just was what it was. Yet there were rare instances, when Rhonda was alone and the world fell silent. She could not hear, she could not see and she could not feel. She imagined that this was something similar to what the young girl in her arms was feeling. “I had to tell you Pops because the person who is tormenting us, whoever it is that is twisting my little boys words, they’ve threatened her.” Ronnie’s eyes were welling up, tears began to dance down her face. “She is innocent in all of this and some monster is saying they want to hurt her because of what Charlie did. The police won’t do anything and I refuse to let what my baby boy did cause any more harm to people who don’t deserve it.”

From tormented soul to Street Angel, Penelope narrowed her eyes as she adjusted her position to wipe Rhonda’s tears with Charlie’s jacket sleeve, “Are you serious?” From sadness to anger, Penelope pushed her grief to the side to take in all the pain and emotion of Rhonda and let it build up inside her. “Is that why you told me? You need me to get a crew and fetch her? What a sicko. When I find out whoever is toying with my family, I’m going to kill them.” Poppy didn’t say that last part lightly. As much as she wanted to sulk in her pain, that would not accomplish anything nor would it give her closure. Charlie was dead and he did what he did. She couldn’t change the past. But for someone to bring in his sister who has absolutely nothing to do with this cursed town? That was next level despicable. “I’m sorry mama, I got in my feelings but you brought me back. I’ll take care of it and I’ll take care of you.”

Rhonda wiped the tears away from her all too clouded eyes, using the warmth from Poppy’s body in her arms to guide her emotions back to a level plateau. “I don’t know if we can bring her here, she has nothing to do with us and she has a life of her own.” All this was still a lot for Ronnie to process. She held no personal responsibility to this mystery child but she held one to Charlie and one to Poppy and she knew that neither would let something like this lie. “But maybe take your friends just to check in on her? Warn her maybe? I don’t know. I’m not even sure really why I care so much. Maybe it’s because he would care.”

The elder woman could feel herself getting a little light headed, a common occurrence for her and it was becoming harder to think clearly. “You don’t have to do anything, Penelope. It’s likely just idle threats and I shouldn’t burden you with this. I wouldn’t even know where to start. I only know the girl's name.”

“The girl's name and the reservation she stays at. That’s more than enough information for me. I’m going to do it because it’s the right thing to do,” Penelope passionately decreed before assisting Rhonda up from the bed. “Here, let me help you. We’ve had a long morning and you need rest. I’ll take care of things. Promise.” Penelope had already decided. There was no convincing her any other way. Stubborn as a mule Charlie would say. She would find Mitena and try her best to protect her in any way she could. Definitely bringing her father’s gun with her. For Rhonda, for Charlie, and for herself. “I won’t let you down, mama.”

Perhaps along the way she’d find out more about Charlie. As scary and painful it was to find out new information about the love of her life, Poppy craved for more. She wanted to know everything about Charlie, including all the things he never told her. This journey would be a stepping stone in the right direction of reaching inner peace and simmering down the constant raging war inside her.

“Thank you, Poppy. You have no idea how much this means,” Rhonda followed the young girl's lead as she walked her towards her own bedroom for some rest. She hated this part of it; the exhaustion. Ronnie was a healthy and fit forty three year old woman that some younger would consider a hot mom, yet she could barely walk around her house without help. It was embarrassing.

Taking a seat on her own bed, she held onto Poppy’s hand. “Baby girl, the other day your Mom and I were in town, I was having a good sight day and we saw that girl, Natalia Belmonte from your class? She looked so lonely. So broken. Maybe ask her to go with you? I know she was friends with Charlie, what if she could help?”

Natalia Belmonte, the Queen Bee of her year, was friends with Charlie? Was Rhonda mistaken? This didn’t sound right at all. Still, even if it felt extremely far-fetched, this was something Charlie’s mom wanted her to do. There were so many questions flooding her brain but instead of protesting or asking the older woman why, she simply said, “Of course. I’ll make sure to see her first before grabbing the others.” With a frustrated sigh, Penelope helped Rhonda lay down before kissing her forehead, “I’ll make sure she’s okay. I’ll make sure they’re all okay.” This was the least she could do. Rhonda was allowing her to stay at her house and if she thought Natalia could be of use and Mitena needed saving then it was a no brainer that Poppy would do this. On top of her love for Rhonda, the dark haired beauty needed answers and it felt like she would find out some of them soon.

Cheers to finding Mitena Strongbow.

Charlie, what are you doing to me?

Maybe for a while now (probably a week tops), something has felt off for Jade and her usual routine. In the past, any time she felt like she was having a bad day, taking a small bump or a pill of E courtesy of Prof or whoever was handling the corner whenever she came by (maybe it was Sonny?), and she would immediately feel the weight on her shoulders and crushing her into oblivion feel like it was being lifted off of her neck and shoulders.

But what was she to do with a feeling that was nothing like her usual stress? Stress about Charlie, but that was a common thing and she hasn’t necessarily thought about him in a self-destructive way since the week after the carlisle house. That wasn’t to say she didn’t have images of him occasionally pop into her head and also in her dreams, but ever since going to the diner every week and meeting with Anya, getting to know her just a little more for the last three weeks, that was the highlight of her every Sunday.

And when she went to visit her uncle every Monday, bright and early, she’d tell him about the girl simply known as Pancake. She’d gush about how with every week, she was falling back into a routine.

And it was no different this week, but at the same time, she felt something in the air. No, it wasn’t the cheap perfume she found at Victoria James’ Well Loved Wonders shop. It was an almost fruity scent of cherry and had a slight minty aroma. In Jade’s crummy apartment, it hid the odor of cigarettes and Jack Daniels. It wasn’t even the day old bread she bought from the corner mart. What felt off for Jade wasn’t anything in the apartment — it was something in the air like a ghost or some bad feeling that she couldn’t shake.

The blonde tuned out whatever crappy rerun of Cops that played on whatever channel she had it on and she sank into her couch. She had recently decided to go to the rent-a-center in Boston and pick up a new couch. It wasn’t anything fancy, but it was more comfortable than the crappy one she had a few months back. At least it had cushion this time around. She sank into it, feeling herself become relaxed. It might help that she may have taken some kind of xanax with a shot of whiskey to help with ridding herself of that bad feeling that might not be hovering over her head like a rainy winter night in Edenridge.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Jade shook herself slowly out of a light sleep. “What?” She looked around, noticing the time and that she was out for at least an hour. Something woke her up and it wasn’t until another series of knocks until the neon sign came clear and she whipped herself off her bed, falling to her knees since she stood up while still half-asleep, knees bouncing off of the hard floor.

“Yeah, I heard you the first time! Just give me a damn fucking minute!” A certain impatience that those closest to her would recognize from a happier time in the distant past came through as she rose to her feet, brushing off whatever dirt was on her sweatpants. Jade wore a red top to match her black pants and she had white socks on it because she had to add spice and surprise to her comfort wardrobe.

As she opened the door, her eyes were half open, so Jade hadn’t registered exactly who was at the door. “Yeah, what do you want?” She asked, a hand behind her neck as she tried to massage it somewhat. Her blue-green eyes had that temporary flare of someone in a foul mood only to be replaced with something that she couldn’t put into words, but the closest she was feeling at the moment was complete and utter shock.

”You must be Jade. Hi, I’m Cameron!”

Hyde’s tone was jovial, almost pleasant but even still, underneath it all was the same vile venom that he had become his signature. He scanned the young woman very quickly, he had heard things and stories about Jade Taylor whilst he was still locked up. He had heard about the suicide blonde dressed in leather and looking to kill all of man and women kind with her edge which was sharper than any blade.

Jade’s routine wasn’t hard to figure out. Hyde had been following her for weeks and by this point pretty much knew where she was going to be at what time and with who. The most curious of the things that she did was have breakfast regularly with his sister. That was something interesting. Hyde had never seen Anya be anything other than what she was but in the brief moments with Jade, she was a new beast entirely.

He did not wait for an invitation, the cold hearted handsome devil simply brushed by Jade and entered her shitty apartment. As he did with every room he ever entered, Hyde looked around for escape routes, weapons and surveillance; a force of habit of course. He went to her fridge and pulled an ice cold beer from it, popping the cap off using the counter top.

“Your uncle sent me.”

Jade was frozen. The usually hot-tempered angel princess whose passion and words often oozed out a reckless fire met its match with Cameron Hyde. She had never met the man, but the stories alone from both news outlets and from those within the southside, the name Cameron Hyde was one that you didn’t forget. Jade sure as hell wouldn’t. And that’s because of the things he did to Aleyda. She and Ley may not have been romantically involved since her freshman year (if you could say it was romance), but to say that Jade wasn’t still very much protective over her friend would, at the very least, be a mistake. Despite that, Jade found herself overcome with so much that it took her a few moments after he stepped into her apartment to process it.

But when she did and he said her Uncle Charlie sent him, alarms went off in her head. It’s like her body, from head to toe, had entered a forced defrosting mode. Her fire returned and under normal circumstances, Jade would be in his face, smacking the beer out of his hand for even implying that her uncle Charlie would associate himself with the likes of Cameron Hyde. But if the stories were true, which she almost definitely believed they were, Jade had to exercise caution. “Did he now?” She asked, taking a few cautious steps forward. Her legs shook but she tried to not let it show by keeping a direct gaze with his eyes. “And how is it that you’d know my uncle? Personally, I mean. He’s been in prison since last year. If you want me to believe you, you’re gonna have to try a little harder than what you just said.” Let it not be mistaken, Jade was experiencing more fear, more anxiety, more absolute dread than even she felt when she had heard Charlie died or even when she heard the sounds of ReyRey beating up Charlie, but out of self-preservation alone, Jade had to appear unphased.

“I was locked up with him.” Hyde spoke very matter of factly. His eyes never left the young woman as he took a drink from his stolen beverage. The stories he had heard were true; beneath those baggy clothes was a body to kill for. Who knows? Maybe one day he would? Or he could just take it? Who could stop him? Nobody, they daren’t even try. “He heard that this place was going to hell, got worried and knew I was getting out so he asked me to keep an eye on you.” He put the beer down on the counter and folded his arms. She was living in borderline squalor, it was almost a turn off. ”I would tell him not to be worried because this place’s smell alone would send anybody packing.”

Jade took a hard glance at Cameron. And then another until she couldn’t decide if she should slap him for disrespecting Edenridge or if she should laugh because despite the stories she’s heard about this man, she also knew a good joke when she heard it. “And yet I’m still here,” she remarked, moving past him and opening the fridge. She let the cool air hit her face and she grabbed one of her crappy beers. She closed it, leaned against the fridge, feeling it tip back, and gathered herself. Thoughts and other unsavory crap flooded her mind. Even as she pressed her lips against the tip of the bottle, took a sip of the mediocre beer, she hadn’t allowed herself to not look at Cameron Hyde.

She was pondering why her Uncle Charlie had decided to send him as her protector? Or why would he even accept? “If my uncle really did ask you, then he must’ve spoken a lot about me, so then he may have told you I don’t take nobody’s crap.” Jade was terrified right now, but she didn’t feel threatened. Well, it’s not like she ever shied away from any situation where her well-being was in danger and when it wasn’t. “What’s in it for you? Nobody does anything, especially when it involves me, if they don’t get something out of it for themselves.” Everything in her was on fire. Why did she suddenly feel the need to be so careless and fearless? Maybe she truly had a death wish and that bad feeling was the preparation for her demise. “There must be something in it for you.”

Hyde enjoyed bringing fear into a room, it was like nectar from the Gods. He could feel terror in every vein, in every pore. It was his sustenance. He could tell Jade was scared but he wasn’t afraid. That was interesting. She was trying to play games with him, a self preservation technique no doubt. It was reminiscent of someone else that he used to know, someone who challenged him like no other and funnily enough, Hyde knew that Jade had a history with that person.

”I can think of a few ways you could pay me back.” He has heard all the talk and Hyde would be lying if he wasn’t curious as to what was beneath the clothes. Jade seemed to have a presence that attracted different dangers. Aleyda, Anya and now him. ”But it’s not that complicated, I owe your uncle a favor. He took care of me whilst I was inside, his mistake naturally but that’s all there is to it.”

Making his way over to the window, Hyde looked out across the Southside; his fingers drumming together in the way that Mrs Ramsey had taught him. A simple method to keep the monster in check. He wasn’t particularly fond of Charlie Taylor but a promise and loyalty went a hell of a long way. Still, it didn’t stop him from imagining grabbing Jade by her throat and throwing her through this window. Why? He could see it coming. She was going to break his sister's heart. Hyde could see it in their interactions, the way Anya’s face lit up in a way that didn’t involve pancakes. ”I won’t interfere with your life. You keep doing you but if I get a whiff of trouble, I’ll be there. You need me, I’ll be there.”

The Angel Princess spent a few moments processing everything Cameron told her. After she got over the sheer grossness that consumed her at his not-so-subtle offer. She heard that kind of offer from one-too-many guys at Edge and generally anywhere she went, thinking that the only way to thank them was by taking them somewhere with minimal privacy and showing them a good time. It wasn’t and she would rather poke the beast than ever go down that road.

Yes, but after she got past it and as she watched him gaze out the mirror like a wolf or some other kind of howl-at-the-moon beast, Jade marinated on the things he told her. Charlie Taylor had helped him out and his payment was Cameron Hyde being her silent protector.

What were you thinking, Uncle Charlie?

She didn’t quite understand what he was thinking, but her uncle always had a reason for his actions. Even if one of them resulted in his initial incarceration. “I don’t know, buddy, this is the southside. It’s a pretty dangerous place. Take one wrong turn and it’s lights out.” Jade walked over back to the couch and took a seat, keeping her eyes on her new protector. “Not that I’m saying I would go where I shouldn’t, but you speak as though you’d be able to prevent any harm coming to me. That’s a pretty bold statement to make.”

Was she being serious?

SMASH

With a great crack, Hyde launched his glass bottle into the wall and like lightning shot across the room, which caused Jade to flinch in the worst way. He stood behind Jade on the couch and placed his hands on her shoulders; his grip was firm and tight but not painful, yet. ”You know who I am?” Cameron hissed. ”You know what I can do?” With every pause in the sentence, his fingers pressed a little harder into her collar bone. ”The word is already out on the street. Your Uncle made a deal with the devil and you are protected.” The vitriol in that final word. Protected It was as if a cobra had spat its poison directly into your ear to make its way into your central nervous system and kill you in an instant. This was the man they told stories of.

Jade. No one will touch you or they will have me on their doorstep but don’t take this as a friendship.” His hands made their way around her throat, he didn’t squeeze, not her. ”Like I said, I won’t interfere but you do me wrong, in any way, I will reach my fingers down your throat and I will rip off your jaw.”

He released her and took a few steps back before walking back to her fridge and grabbing another beer. ”One for the road.” He popped the cap of the beer and looked at the blonde. ”Are you having breakfast with that girl from the diner soon?”

What…what just happened?

Only a minute ago, Jade was half-grinning, watching Cameron with a curious gaze, asking him about some hypotheticals that might happen and, like a domino effect from hell, loud crashes, raw terror that Jade had never felt before in her life, and the closest to death that the Angel Princess has ever come all flashed before her in a flash. For all she knew, it could have been longer and it probably was. Somewhere from the crash of a beer bottle and the touch of hands pushing on her neck and throat, she checked out yet heard every word.

This was the side of the man that she heard so much about…no not necessarily a man. A demon…

“Huh?” She shook her head as Hyde asked about the diner. She averted his direct gaze, looking down. She held the beer in one hand and the other shook, a clear result of what she experienced. “I..” She froze, finding it extremely difficult to find her thoughts. Her throat was dry and she couldn’t stop shaking. So she took a deep swig of her beer, downing it in a few more. “N-not until Sunday” was all Jade could force out.

Hyde nodded his head before having a swig from the bottle. ”Her favourite color is Royal Blue. You want to impress her? There’s a dress in your closet that is close to that. Jade it up, add leather whatever it is you do to make yourself more fuckable. She’ll like that” A pleasant almost wholesome kind of smile covered the devils freckled face.

He polished off the bottle very quickly, throwing it into the recycle when he was finished. Still grinning, Hyde made his way over to Jade once again and knelt down in front of her. He popped a finger beneath her chin and raised her blonde haired head up to lock their eyes together. His baby blues were ice cold, emotionless, a great dichotomy considered just how full of rage the young man was. ”Look into my eyes.” His finger soon turned to a grip as he held her chin. ”Look into them and see me, Jade.” The Devil released her and smiled again. ”I’ll be seeing you!” He pulled himself up to his feet and brushed a strand of hair from the shaken woman’s face before departing the apartment.

When the door shut as calmly as if nothing had happened just now, Jade couldn’t bring herself to move, let alone process anything that happened to her at the hands of someone her uncle handpicked to be her protector. Jade was stunned. Terrified. In a state of uncontrollable confusion. Her heart was beating so fast and then it wasn’t, which terrified her more than she realized.The Angel Princess has always been able to handle herself with unsavory men. They always found ways to think what she wanted was their gross bodies. Ugly, fat men who told her how pretty she was. One even called her his golden delight.

But Cameron Hyde? He wasn’t like any of them. He didn’t come into her apartment with any intent of trying to get into her pants. As cold as he was emotionless, Jade for the first time felt every ounce of power stripped away from her in ways that no man or woman has ever been able to do. He went from hot to cold to hot again and when he had demanded she look at him, she complied.

This was the guy that she heard so many horror-laced stories about. The Devil of Eden. Her uncle’s cellmate and now her protector in the darkness.

“A Devil and an angel.” In her last moments before she laid down on the couch, Jade let out a morbid chuckle that had so many things within it, it was hard to say, but she just laid on her couch, curled up and let her mind drift.

“You hear that? That’s an entire town whose hopes and dreams are resting on your shoulders, boys.”

Coach John O’Hara had once worn the same green and white jerseys that his players were currently adorned in. This was enemy territory. This was Pinehurst: home of the Monarchs. And this was rivalry week. Days of pranks and violence were all about to come to an end through four quarters, thirty two minutes of basketball. “The girls have already warmed them up. They’ve got their trophy. Now it’s time for us to bring it all home.”

Coach placed his hands one hand on his hip and lifted the brim of his cap with the other to survey his dynamite team. Francis Callahan, the most talented point scorer in Edenridge history. Rhett Cleary at center, the top defensive player in the division. Russell Lord, the best small forward John had ever coached. There was Clay Costigan, a versatile player at power forward with an uncanny three point rate and then there was David; his own baby boy. Davey took a bad fall in a game earlier in the season, and suffered a broken rib. John was worried about playing his son for the full game which was why he had called up Danny Belmonte from the freshman squad as back up.

“For most of you, this will be the last rivalry game you ever play. It’ll be the last time you’re all together in this environment. Soak it all in, gentlemen. Let me ask you something--” John looked at the boys: each of them their own men, with their own personalities, with their own goals, dreams and their own destinies. This game, no matter how much he bigged it up and pushed it forward, was just that: a game. A particle of dust in the infinity of space. “Why do you wanna win this? Right now, every one of you tell me: why do you wanna win this game?”

Francis stood up-- the leader, as he always was. “I want to win this for you, Coach. You gave us everything, made us who we are, made us good men. This one's for you.”

Russell followed and folded his large arms across his chest. “I’m doing it for these guys beside me, these soldiers on the battlefield. We have an enemy we have to destroy and I can’t do it alone.”

Coach turned his steely gaze to Rhett, arguably the quietest of his players. “What’cha got, twenty one? Why do you want to win?”

Rhett cracked his neck before focusing in and firmly giving his response, “It’s not worth winning if you can’t win big, right? I want to take it home, Coach.” Cleary was aware that this was only a stepping stone to get where he needed to go. To the rest of the world this was just another game but to him and his friends? This was the end of a chapter and the start of the next. Might as well go out loudly and proudly. It wasn’t about the trophy. It was about the feeling of all of them achieving greatness together, like they’ve done for years. This game was sacred to his team and he would make sure to protect what they had, at all cost.

Clay brushed his hands through his long silky hair and grinned from ear to ear; the goofy sort of grin that had been his trademark for years. Before he opened his mouth, the Coach placed a hard foot on one of the nearby benches, the loud rattle of the bolts cracking beneath his step causing the boys to jump. “No jokes, sixteen, or I swear to God my foot is going up your ass and out of your mouth. Try kissing all the girls then, kiddo.”

Taken aback a little bit (only a little), Clay looked at his teammates, his brothers, the four boys he had known since diapers. “I just want to do something good, something meaningful. It’s a game, sure, but then out there, it’s a little hope. A little something they can be proud of when our town goes to shit.”

“Fuck me, Clay, you gotta stop with that shit. People will start to think you’re a good guy.” David got to his feet. He was arguably the most rebellious of the Elite but he had good reason. Being the son of the town's beloved coach was tough enough as it was; but actually playing for him was another kettle of fish altogether. “I saw you last night with Sawyer Steen, that certainly wasn’t nice.” David looked to his father, whose vein was beginning to bulge beneath his cap, which usually meant he was annoyed or the dog had gotten into the trash again. “We want to win, Coach, because it’s what we’re supposed to do. We’re players, we throw the ball around, it goes in the hoop and we win. It’s not about fame or fortune or glory. It’s just about the game and having fun.”

The redness that had risen in Coach’s face had subsided as he listened to his boy talk. He was right, maybe he had done this speech before. “You got it in one, Davey. It’s about fun. You want to win because it’s fun. You want to play because it’s fun.” The elder man looked to the youngest boy in the room, little Danny Belmonte. He made his way over to him and knelt down to his eye level. “Danny, wherever you go in life, whatever you do, whoever you love, remember this feeling. Remember these boys. They are all good men and something to aspire to be. At the end of the day, this is not about winning. The game is not about throwing a ball around, it’s about having fun and growing as a person. So, you wanna win with us, twenty seven?”

The Italian boy was awestruck. He had listened to the Elite, the goddamn Elite, speak through their hearts, never hesitating with anything they said. They knew what they wanted and who they were going to be. They knew who they were and they all had this incredible synergy that any young lad would want to aspire for. They were determined, motivated, and full of vigor! They were amazing. Bringing his eyes from the coach to Clay, Rhett, Russ, David, and then Francis, a shy yet lovable smile rose on Danny’s face, “Yeah! You guys are the best and I want to be the best, so let’s do this. Let’s win!” This was exciting. Even if he was benched for the whole game, he would have a blast because he had front row seats to watch the Elite in their element. Honest to God, a dream of his, achieved.

Coach rose up to standing again as the PA system burst into life. LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, YOUR EDENRIDGE CELTICS! Followed by the voice was the heavy riff of the Celtics signature walk out music. Coach pulled his hat down and looked at his team. They were all good boys. “They’re playing our song, boys. It’s time to do work. No luck but what you make.”


The Elite yelled in unison as they followed their leader out of the locker room and down towards the tunnel to the basketball court and their Pinehurst enemies.

Half time.

The Edenridge Celtics were leading by three points. The Monarchs' defence was strong: they had guys twice the size of Russell-- and he was built like a brick shithouse. Francis was playing the game of his life. Scoring point after point after point. The game plan was simple: get Fran the ball by any means necessary. David had taken an elbow to the stomach during the first quarter, typical dirty Pinehurst move. Coach had benched him and put Danny in the game. It seemed it was a day for freshmen on that court as Allison had done the same with her Clovers.

“You ok, Franny?” Allison asked as she massaged her boyfriend's shoulders and kissed the nape of his neck. “Those guys are big."

Francis glanced over at Russell, who was laying flat on the floor nearby, exhausted. “They’re huge but our speed is winning out, it’s killing us but it’s working.” He put a hand on top of Ally’s, his eyes never leaving the huge frame of his compatriot. “You ok over there, Russ?” The large boy did not say a word, he simply raised a thumb up to show his feeling.

Clay handed young Danny an ice pack as he sat down next to the young boy. He glanced over towards the bleachers where David was talking to his twin, Jamie as well as his mother and father. Directly behind them was the row reserved for players' families. He could see the Callahans, the Clearys and the Lords. No sign of the Costigans. What a shock. He returned his dark eyes to the O’Hara clan and nudged Danny in the arm. “What I would give to see Jamie O’Hara in the halls every day. What a babe.”

“Ah… yeah,” Danny graciously grabbed the ice pack and put it on his sore left leg. If it wasn’t for his mind shutting out the pain, it would feel like his leg got shot. This game was intense and the other team was absolutely vicious. One guy had already fouled him four times. He knew in the morning he’d be feeling it hard. This was the same guy that hurt David! And they didn’t call him on that?! Thank God he was running on adrenaline or he’d crash hard. Danny’s gaze scanned the bleachers and there he smiled, seeing most of his family aside from Vivia who was not at her art showcase but in a tiny cheerleader outfit helping Allison out with the freshmen. Dad wouldn’t be happy about that for multiple reasons. His eyes met with his mother’s as she gave a serene, beautiful, and appreciative smile. Silvia waved at him and mouthed ‘You’re doing great, baby.’

The moment was ruined when Cat’s mouth opened. She pulled Mira to her feet to hold a sign that had a huge ‘#27’ while she held a sign for the whole team, ‘Make the Monarchs kiss ass!’ Classic Cat. “Fuck yeah boys! You’re doing amazing. Keep up the good work. It’s your time to rise! LET'S GO CELTICS!”

“Wooo…” Mira (who was 11 at the time) whispered beside her sister, hating the attention.

“ALSO CLOVERS, SHAKE THOSE ASSES MORE! SHOW THE WORLD WHAT YOU GOT!” Beside her sat Danilo's twin Natalia, completely and utterly embarrassed at her sister’s audacious behaviour as Cat’s son sat on her lap. Beside (and on) Natalia, Cat’s children followed their mother’s lead. Franco held his mother’s old pom poms shyly, shaking it with team spirit. Dani hyped her mother up by putting her fingers in her lips and loudly whistling, and Sofia of course took charge of the pictures and videos. It was her duty to capture it all.

Taz turned to look at his eldest daughter and glared. His brows furrowed in frustration. She was something else. The town would think the Belmontes were uncivil, rambunctious, and wild. It seemed tonight Cat gave no fucks though which was annoying but something he was forced to accept. Silvia grabbed her husband’s hand and told him to hush. This was a night of fun. They were here to support Danny. That’s it. So what if Cat was loud? At least she spoke what she meant and felt passionately. As for the other two Belmonte girls, Elisabetta was sitting with Edenridge High teachers, right next to Beau, on another set of bleachers and Nina, sadly, couldn’t make it since Palermo still had to run even if the whole town was going to be here in good ol’ enemy territory. She cried but Cat told her she’d tell her all about it. “Don’t make me come down there and show you how it’s done. These boys need to be inspired! Allison, I’m watching you.”

Natalia, like her father, directed a scathing glare at her oldest sister. Leave it to Cat to embarrass their family and make herself the center of attention at the same time. It was why she'd been banned from attending Tal's volleyball games months ago. She shook her head in disapproval, glad to have the distraction of baby Franco in her lap that prevented her from hissing a few choice words to his narcissistic, immature mother.

“Dad, let me back in the game!” David pleaded as he felt his younger sister wrap her arm around his, something she always did when she began to feel overwhelmed. “I’m fine. Doc Samson said I was fine. The guys need me.”

Coach looked at his wife, Lizzie. She was a great anchor but when it came to the game, she knew nothing and never pretended to. These sorts of decisions were always best left to John. “I can’t do it, Davey. One wrong step and your ribs will crack more. One of those big fucks on D hits you, your lungs are filling up with blood and that’s it, game over. I’m not taking the chance.”

“Daddy, if Davey says he’s good, he’s good. Let him play.” Jamie tightened her grip on her brothers arm, doing her best to ignore the strong smell of sweat. “I know him better than anyone and…”

“Stop.” Coach put his hand out and halted his daughter in her tracks. “Jamie, don’t start with any of that twin magic stuff, alright? It doesn’t exist. Look at Costigan and his sister. That idiot's family isn’t even here. No mom, no dad, no twin. I love that boy and I’ll be there for him, but don’t start talking hocus pocus, baby. Okay? Your brother is hurt, he cannot play, end of story.”

Tears began to well up in Jamie’s eyes. She released David from her grasp and fled the auditorium towards the girls bathroom. Allison was soon to follow her after glancing up at the screaming Cat Belmonte. Oh, to be Queen. A second behind Ally, Poppy James in her cute red dress entered the washroom.

David clenched his fists and fought every brotherly instinct to not punch his old man in the face. He knew that he didn’t mean anything by it, Coach was old school. He didn’t understand Jamie all that well, how sensitive and sad she really was. Dragging Clay didn’t particularly offend him either, everyone knew Clay didn’t care about anything, right? “You have to watch what you say, Dad. Forget about the game and worry about her, okay? You know she needs our help and yelling at her doesn’t help. I gotta go cool down, I’ll see you both in a bit.” He kissed his mother's cheek before heading deeper into the bowls of Pinehurst Academy for a quiet breather.

A short distance away from the Celtics' bleachers, hidden from sight by her fellow Clovers, Caitlin Cleary had witnessed the scene between O'Haras with growing concern. David and his father had butted heads about different topics for as long as she could remember. The older David got, the more the two men seemed to argue, which the redhead could see always took more of a toll on the son rather than the father. That, along with the injury he'd sustained earlier at the hands of that Pinehurst caveman she'd been glaring daggers at, meant that Davey was probably not feeling his best right now. And, of course, Cece wanted to try her hand at lifting his spirits like she usually did.

With this goal in mind, the shy girl grabbed a bottle of David's favorite Powerade flavor from the nearby cooler and set out on the quest of finding her neighbor, which proved to be an easy one. She had been rounding the corner at the same time David had ducked into the last classroom down the hall, closing the door behind them. The blue-eyed girl waited a few moments to avoid suspicions before quietly approaching his hiding place, making sure she wasn't being followed and carefully shutting the door behind her once inside the room.

"Hi Davey. Are you okay?" Cece asked the young man in a gentle voice, slowly approaching his tall figure. "I brought you a blue Powerade. I know it’s your favorite." she declared, shyly extending the bottle in his direction.

David was a little taken aback to find Caitlin in the room with him and dressed like that? She looked a lot older and more mature than he thought he knew her to be. He knew she was a cheerleader but he didn’t know until an hour ago that all the other cheerleaders were sick and Ally and Viv had to deal with freshmen. “Hey CeCe, thank you.” He took the bottle from her and smiled. “Yeah I’m, I’m fine. We’re winning so it’s all good right?” He popped open the Powerade and took a light sip, just to quench his thirst. “You’re doing great out there.”

The redhead's cheeks instantly turned pink. "So were you!" she complimented right back, shifting the focus of the conversation away from herself as she took a seat next to David. "I'm sorry your dad pulled you out of the game, though. That Monarch guy is as classy as a caveman…" she trailed off, glaring as she visualized the face of that brute who'd injured her crush.

David smiled at her; Caitlin really was a sweet kid. “Dad’s doing the right thing I guess.” The curly haired basketball player responded with his usual affability. “He’s trying to make sure we win, I’m a burden. Too much weight to carry for the guys.” He lifted his left foot onto a nearby chair to tie a loose lace. “Don’t concern yourself with that goon of a Monarch, CeCe. These idiots don’t have any tact and like to play dirty; that’s just the game.” In reality, David was just trying to avoid eye contact with his friend's baby sister. Damn, she looked good. Why was he seeing her like this? Had to be the adrenaline right? That’s all it was.

"Don't talk about yourself like that," Cece chastised the young man, shooting David a stern look. "You're not a burden to anyone, Dave. You're the best assist the team has seen in a while _{from what I hear, at least. I don't know anything about basketball, really. But that's not the point…}" she trailed off, clearing her throat to hide her embarrassment and red-hot face once realizing she'd been rambling under her breath. "My point is, you're one of the five reasons the team made it as far as they did. You should give yourself more credit than saying any of the guys carried you anywhere."

“You’re very sweet, kiddo,” He had to try and reaffirm to himself that the girl he was talking to was just that, a kid. He couldn’t be seeing her like he was. “Do me a favor tonight? Be careful.” David made his way a little closer to the redhead and placed his hands on her shoulders. “You put on that uniform and wear those colors and you become a target in a few different ways. Stay away from any Monarchs and stick close to your friends, ok?”

There was a split second in which the disappointment Caitlin felt at still being seen as a kid by David could be easily spotted by anyone paying attention, especially in the way she pursed her crimson-colored lips together in a tight line. Apart from appeasing her insistent mother, part of the reason why Cece had joined the cheerleading team in the first place was in the hopes that David would finally see beyond the whole ‘Rhett Cleary’s younger sister’ thing. She wanted David to realize she wasn’t the little girl who needed help riding her bike anymore, or the crying girl who he would carry in his arms and take care of whenever she had a scraped knee or twisted ankle or any other injury of the sort. She was a young woman now-- just like the ones he often got entangled with at school. Why couldn’t he just take the blindfold off and see that?

But rather than retorting defensively and proving his point by acting like the very same child he thought of her as, the redhead chose to bite her tongue instead. “Okay,” she resigned herself to muttering in response, offering David a fake half-smile. He had no way of knowing that, apart from Danny and maybe Jill, none of these people were actually her friends. But he didn’t need to know that.

“Come here and give me a squidge--” David pulled the freshman into his arms and held her in a firm hug, which was quickly reciprocated with the same enthusiasm. This is what he shouldn’t be doing but why couldn’t he help himself? She smelled amazing and the warmth of her body against his was lighting a fire that shouldn’t be sparked. This was Rhett’s little sister. This was the girl he had seen grow up essentially from diapers. This was crazy and he had to stop. Then why couldn’t he?

Clay had watched the O’Hara family drama unfold with Danny by his side. It felt nice to have a little sidekick, he had one once before, Lamb. His darling twin. Where was she on this fine evening? Likely somewhere in Boston, trying to score herself a fuck or a fight. Laura had barely been a part of Clayton’s life for the entirety of high school yet they literally slept in rooms next to each other. Then there was the fact that all of his friends' parents were there supporting them, cheering for them and manifesting greatness for them. Where were Clay’s parents? Ellie was off somewhere teaching a pottery class to pensioners. At that present moment, Sean was in the Bahamas, ferrying rich fuckers around the islands and showing them a good time. Clay hadn’t seen his Dad in six months.

“Hey yo Danny!” The older boy placed his hand atop the Belmonte boy's shoulder and gave it a little squeeze. “You’re killing it out there, buddy.”

“Am I? Thanks, Clay,” Danny moved his neck around to make sure there wasn’t a deep strain. After taking a sip of water, he chuckled, “And you got all the girls’ eyes on you.” The young Belmonte gestured to this group of underclassmen in the bleachers to the right of them trying to get Costigan’s attention. “I’m jealous. You have it all.”

“No. No that would be my cousin,” Clay pointed over to Francis who was talking to his little brother Roddy and his friend, what was her name? The Mayor's kid. “Fran has talent, skill, good looks, brains, the love of Ally Davies-- who, for the record, I dated first, thank you very much-- and a family” The long haired boy sighed a little. “A family that loves him dearly. You got one too by the looks of it.” God’s favourite idiot pointed up at the bleachers at the swarm of Italians cheering for his young charge. “I’d kill for that." He reached down into his bag to grab his own bottled water. After bringing it to his lips, Clay took another breath, exhaling the loneliness demon that had seemed to take hold as of this half time break. “Your sister looks crazy hot tonight. When’s Cat gonna leave her husband and be with me huh?”

That was forward, taking Danny aback. Briefly, Danny started feeling bad for his teammate. Behind that happy-go-lucky smile, there was a tone, an underlying sadness. However, that was thrown out the window the moment Clay brought up Cat. “Clay… that’s my sister and isn’t she a lot older than you? Hell, you’re always welcomed in our family but at least look at...” Man imagining his sisters getting with any of his idols just felt weird but it seemed like his comrade wanted some pasta or an Italian sub. “Viv. Look. Isn’t she like around your age?”

“Listen, pup. Viv is hot too, I would one hundred percent do unspeakable things to her….sorry. Hell that little twin of yours is coming alone nice too. HOWEVER!” Clay slapped his knee with the palm of his hand just to make Danny jump. “They ain’t my Kitty. Those hazel eyes, that silky voice, that fantastic and bodacious bodess.” Clay got to his feet and climbed onto the bench, locking eyes with Cat as she looked towards her little brother, he turned his hand into a mock phone and put it to his ear. “Call me.”

Danny’s face was beaming red. “Wait, you call her Kitty?!” He stood up, his eyes going from him to his sister.

Cat responded with an eye roll, pretended to pick up a phone, and shouted into it, “In your dreams!” Before hanging up and winking at him.

Danny wanted to die. To avoid further embarrassment he searched for the rock of the group only to notice him missing. He saw everyone else disappear but… “Where’s Rhett?”

Clay jumped down from the bench and surveyed the room with his friend. “Why am I constantly asking where is Rhett? He’s a fucking gypsy I swear to God.” He looked towards the clock that hung on the wall. The second half was very close to getting started and they needed to get the team back together. “Twenty seven, I’ll go find Rhett, I need to raid the vending machines anyway. You just distract the ref for a minute if I’m not back in time, savvy?” Clayton patted the kid on his cheek in a way he was sure old Taz probably did after watching the Godfather for the eighteenth time.

“Uh, yeah, sure. I can do that, Sixteen.” Clearing his throat after Clay touched him on the cheek, not knowing if he liked it or if it made him uncomfortable, Danny watched his teammate walk away and disappear. Bringing his gaze from the exit to his family, his attention went straight to his father’s serious demeanor and stern, piercing gaze. It was clear that Taz was watching his son like a hawk and expected him to win. Immediately, Danny diverted his attention to the loving and doting eyes of his mother, before smiling, “Right. Distraction.” After giving his family a wide wave, and sending Jill a fun-loving thumbs up (noticing Cece had disappeared), he turned to the court and jogged to the referee.

Clay wandered the halls of Pinehurst Academy in hopes of finding his squad and also some food, damn he was a hungry boy. God's favourite idiot of course found Rhett meditating in a science lab, Damn that Clearly was a strange duck but still a mighty one. He still had time to find food so Clay carried on his adventure through the annals of sworn enemy territory. Finally, after what felt like an age, he saw a vending machine down the corridor. He hurried towards it, salivating at the thought of even a Twinkie. The Big Tuna stopped for a second and turned his head. His dark eyes fell upon two figures tightly hugging in a classroom. It was Duke, he recognised his brother anywhere. But that girl… No, it couldn’t be. Was that…?

The noise was deafening.

Francis had sunk the last three pointer with the fadeaway at the buzzer. He dropped to his knees and raised his fists triumphantly in the air as everybody got to their feet and cheered and yelled at the top of their lungs. Edenridge beats Pinehurst. Celtics beat Monarchs. No luck but what we make.

Allison ran screaming into the court, throwing her Pom-poms to Mei as she leapt into her boyfriend's arms and kissed him deeply. “You did it, baby! You did it! I’m so proud of you!” She looked out amongst the sea of people to her parents and her little sister. It was almost sobering. The thought of what her mother had been doing, the criminality that she had hidden, made her sick. At least with ReyRey, he was honest about being a nasty piece of work. She waved to Alexandria, her grinning little bean, as Francis waved to his own brother. They were the king and the queen of the school.

Russell and Rhett ran off towards their families to engage in love in its purest form, that between parent and child. On the other end, Coach looked at his son. David was smiling, but there was a hint of sadness in his face. It was obvious he wished he could’ve been on the court with them, but that wasn’t going to stop him from celebrating with the rest of his teammates. “Get out there, kiddo.” John removed his hat and sat down on the bench to watch his son run out across the hardwood.

David ran up to Danny and gave him a hearty hug. “You fucking did it, boyo. I’m leaving this team in capable hands.”

Clay stood alone on the court as everyone celebrated with the ones they loved. He could feel all the people around him, fans hollering in joy, shouting nothing but kind words. Yet he couldn’t feel them. He made his way over to the bench and sat down by himself. He glanced up at the scoreboard and then back down to the congregation that had formed at half court. Strange little thing about this game of theirs; it made everyone love them.

“How do you feel, Casanova?” The familiar, sultry voice that Clay loved so much appeared behind him before she joined the bench beside him, watching her family run on the court to interrupt Danny’s lovefest with David. She smirked as she watched her brother, who was likely stroking David’s ego like the fanboy he was. She quietly watched him go from his teammate to his family, getting pulled into a tight embrace by their mother.

On the sidelines, near them, Taz had thrown his jacket on Vivia and begrudgingly complimented her performance. He didn’t want to ruin the moment so he simply let all her decisions of the night go, at least for now. Cat’s children followed Auntie Mira to bother Pierce Mercer, someone Mira looked up to, who was talking about the game with Kylee. The mayor’s daughter who always kept her socials updated. Now it was time for her to share the news of the game. Roddy had left Kylee’s side to find his way to his brother to say congrats and retreat just as quickly. And here Cat was, letting everyone soak in the energy, breathe, and enjoy the good feeling, sitting beside the charming Clay Costigan. “I’d say you did amazing.” She turned to the boy next door gleaming, her old pom poms resting on her lap.

Casanova. The voice was distinct and like music to his ears and the name; only one person uses that name; his Kitty. “It was mostly Fran and Danny with Russ going beast mode on D. Still, I got my licks in.” Clay turned to the gorgeous woman that was sitting next to him and smiled. “But to answer your question I feel a hell of a lot better now you’re sitting next to me.” He wondered, albeit briefly, if at the last second his family would walk through that door having been stuck just on the other side listening in to what could be his crowning moment. Clayton’s dark eyes fell upon the Pom-poms in Cat’s lap and he cocked an eyebrow. “Well well, is there a Clover’s outfit underneath those clothes, Kitty. That’s a bit kinky but I’m here for it.”

“I doubt I still fit it,” Cat laughed, knowing damn well she still had her uniform after all these years in a box in the basement. “Don’t even think about it, Clay,” She teased, noticing him checking her out, before gently nudging herself on his sweaty arm, “Give yourself more credit, I doubt anyone could compliment everyone else as well as you do. They all have their niches, sure, but you, you navigate wherever it’s necessary.” If anything, Clay moved around the court like he was sailing a ship and while he didn’t think he had much control, a lot of it relied on him making sure every one of his teammates had their openings and could run through the play without crashing into someone.

“I appreciate that Cat, thank you.” Clay reached into his bag and pulled out a bottle of water to take a sip from. It was hard work winning high school basketball games. Yet it was also hard work sitting next to Cat when every iota of his being was screaming at him, every fibre of him on fire and telling him that this was the love of his life. Still he was a kid and it was just hormones right? “There gonna’ be a big party at the Belmonte residence tonight? To celebrate?” He had lived next door to the Belmonte family all his life and their parties were legendary. For one night only, Scott Street turned to the Southside. “If my Mom turns up, tell her we won won’t you?”

“I’ll stop by when I drop my kids off,” Cat’s gaze searched the crowd to see Elisa make her way to the family to give her brother her regards. “Silly Clay, you should know better. Danny’s not going to be home for a few. There’s bound to be a party, especially after a big win like tonight? There’s always a party.” Cat knew the Clovers well enough and also the dynamic they shared with the Celtics. Whether there was one planned or not, there would be one, she just knew it. “Ma is going to watch the kids for me, I’m going out tonight. Treating myself to sister time with El and Nina.” She gestured toward Elisa who gave her a look that showed she could really use a drink. Their father had joined the fray and instead of giving his son a hug, he looked like he was giving him pointers on how to do better for the next season. “What’s your plans tonight? Going to party hard, hm? Get with a pretty girl?” Her attention was brought back at him, as she grabbed onto her pom poms and playfully shaked it. Damn she missed the days when she was a Heartbreaker. Those times were simple. Sweet. She missed that feeling.

“Is that an invitation?” God he wished it was. If Cat Belmonte turned to him and said that she wanted him, that would literally be his life complete. She was cute shaking her pom poms and it made Clay wish he had seen her in that Clover outfit. He let out a small laugh. She was making him feel better, less lonely, for a little while at least. “I do have a date, yes. That’s her over there,” He pointed to a girl in the Pinehurst bleachers. “Way out of my league but obviously looking to slum it for a little bit so I’ll probably miss whatever party these reprobates end up at since they are no place for a nice evening.”

“First of all, ew. You’re sleeping with the enemy?” Cat glanced at the girl, surveying her up and down. She looked familiar. She didn’t know why but she did. The shirt she was wearing reminded her of her ex and she hated it. The girl got up from her seat to go to this photographer with fluffy hair. She narrowed her eyes trying to focus in on him… they looked scarily familiar. He looked like the spitting image of… Shaking her head, she put her focus back on the girl. Sure, the Pinehurst girl was cute and all but Clay could do so much better. Cat was certain of that. “Secondly, maybe when you’re older—” Elisa found her way out of the chaos that was the court and their family and found her way to Cat and Clay.

“Hey you two! Congrats, Costigan. You were great! You all were.” Elisa was quick to swoop her sister off the bench, grabbing her hands that held the pom poms, excited to not worry about grading papers for one night. Tonight they were going to have fun. “Mind if I steal her? We gotta’ save Nina from Palermo.”

“Not sleeping with her yet,” Clay clicked his fingers and laughed just before they were joined by the hot goth math teacher. “By all means, go be with the family. Thanks for the chat, Cat.” He got up to his feet and waved at the two women before heading off into the crowd.

“I can’t believe he wants to sleep with a rando Pinehurst chick,” Cat complained, grabbing onto Elisa’s arms as they made their way back to their family, getting ready to say goodbye. They had drinking to do. That was far more important than talking on a basketball court in Pinehurst all night.

“Hey, you can’t talk. You slept with number 7 way back when,” Elisa chuckled as she heard Cat grumble in response. There was a rule between the three eldest Belmonte women. They would never speak his name but they would call him by his number. That’s how bad the break up went and from there Cat’s life spiraled.

From a distance, Kylee was once again left alone. Where did Pierce go? Roddy? Where was Mei? Why was she left alone?! Frantically, she scurried through the side of the court, not realizing she was on the Pinehurst side. Turning her head to see Francis talking to Russ, she found the way he looked at his teammate so… so… SLAM! Kylee found herself crashing right into… right into… a Pinehurst photographer?! Oh my god. Roddy was going to tease her later. “S-sorry.” She looked between the older boy and the girl like a deer in headlights.

That hurt!

The boy almost dropped his camera, his pride and joy. Thank God it was hanging from his neck. He instinctively put his hands onto the girl’s arms after she crashed into him to steady her before quickly pulling away and putting them behind his back. “No, no it’s fine. We were too engrossed in conversation…are you ok?” This girl was very pretty and her clothes screamed money. If he didn’t know different he could’ve thought her a Monarch like him and his sister.

The other girl beside the photographer who was checked out by Clay and Cat only moments ago couldn’t help but give the widest grin at the newcomer. She loved when people got embarrassed. It was so, so, so adorable. “You hit my brother hard! You must be dizzy.”

“No…no, I'm good. Thank you.” On top of Kylee’s head pounding, the scent of this boy’s cologne was distracting. Out of her goddamn mind, she blurted out a compliment, “You smell nice,” before realizing she didn’t even know him. He looked handsome and all, and his hair she could see herself playing with, but he was Pinehurst! The enemy!

Okay, this is when she needed to head out. From the side of her peripheral vision, she caught sight of her best friend hiding by the bleachers. Thank fucking Christ. “Um, excuse me. Sorry again.” And with that, the mayor’s daughter ran off blushing hard and calling out Roddy’s name.

As she ran off, the Pinehurst girl snickered and teased her brother, “You smell nice.”

“Shut up, Kaylee,” He put his hands behind his head as he watched the Edenridge girl run off into the wave of faces. “Besides you’ve been gawking at that Edenridger all night, the one with the hair. You really think that he’s worth your time? They’re scum here, sis.”

“Scum doesn’t mean he isn’t fun. He was hot on the court. You saw it yourself! And he just has the goofiest of smiles. I’d love to toy with him. But you wouldn’t get it. All you think about are those comic books and being a nerd! You’ll never get laid, Bambam.” Kaylee protested, crossing her arms and scanning the crowd for number sixteen.

“What I do with my life is not your concern, Kaylee.” He took off his camera and placed it in its secure case. “Not you, not our darling brother, no one. I’m gonna follow the crowd to whatever party these guys end up at. Try and get some pictures for the baby. Do me a favour, if you open your legs for that idiot, put a sock on the door or something so I know it’s you in there and I don’t accidentally take a photo of my little sister getting railed by an Edenridge Moron.”

“Wow, wow, wow. Don’t need to have a stick up your ass, bro. You know maybe one day you’ll take pictures that I don’t know, make you smile, instead of stirring the pot. It’s going to get you in trouble one day!” Kaylee patted the back of her brother before skipping away, “Well, I’ll find the deetz and text you. See you, Bambam.” And with that she playfully blew her brother a kiss before socializing with the enemy to see if she could hitch a ride and make her mark.

Tonight was going to be fun.

David “The Duke” O’Hara sang at the top of his lungs as his worn-down pickup pulled into Mulligan’s Clearing. Some would call it a Lovers Lane of sorts and others just referred to it as a place with a chill vibe and a great view. Luckily there were no other cars in the area, it’s what tended to happen on game days. The town of Edenridge would all but shut down as everyone went to the game. Houses would be dark; stores would be closed and if it weren’t for the handful that didn’t care for basketball, Eden could easily be described as a ghost town.

Duke would try to do his best to avoid parties on the Southside; it wasn’t his scene. Yet somehow that’s where everyone always ended up, especially after a Celtics win. Francis was an unstoppable force that night and his protégé Danny was quickly soaking up his energy like a sponge. David got his assists for sure but tonight wasn’t about him: it was about the King and the Queens. The Clovers absolutely killed it at the cheerleading competition so the girls were hitting it hard tonight also. Speaking of Queens, David’s current passenger was one of the latter; Caitlin Cleary. She was one of his best friend's little sisters, a freshman, a cheerleader and someone who did not look at all comfortable at a party inside the house of ReyRey Gonzalez.

David couldn’t be more correct. Attending ReyRey Gonzalez' party was not something Caitlin had been particularly excited about in the first place. Even as a child, she had never been one for large, loud gatherings, or being in the spotlight: two things that were guaranteed to happen tonight. After snatching the win from Pinehurst at the Shining Star cheerleading competition, her and the rest of the Edenridge Clovers had become the hot commodity of the night. Young men from both high schools were prowling around the venue like predators on the hunt for their next prey-- their beady eyes leering at the cheerleaders' every move. Fortunately, the knowledge of how Rhett Cleary would snap their bones in half if he found out they made even the slightest move on one of his baby sisters was enough to deter any fraternization attempts from the Edenridge boys.

Unfortunately, the Pinehurst boys had not received the memo. Cece’s red hair and conservative demeanor had attracted the attention of a particularly persistent junior called Kiefer something or the other. He tried, unsuccessfully, to peak her interest with stories from his basketball team prowess. When that failed, he switched to bragging about his bedroom skills, insisting she should give him a chance to show her what he could do to her. Ever the lady, Caitlin had attempted to politely end the conversation to no avail. Eventually, she found herself backed into a corner with slimy Kiefer forcefully trying to kiss her. Her eyes desperately darted around for someone to help her out of this mess, panic setting deeper in by the second… Until, finally, she was saved by none other than David O’Hara himself.

Caitlin didn’t know what exactly happened or what was said. But after a brief exchange between the young men, a spooked Kiefer hurried away in the opposite direction. Grinning widely with his perfect teeth, David approached her, extending a hand out to her with the proposition of escaping the purgatory they found themselves at. The young woman didn't have to be told twice. With a timid smile of her own, Cece took David's hand and allowed herself to be led away from the party, into his truck, and driven away from the Southside.

She had watched David's karaoke session with a beaming smile and sparkling eyes throughout their trip, laughing in amusement at his enthusiasm while slowly melting with adoration on the inside. The further away they drove from the party, the more Cece unwinded. She could feel the tension previously straining her muscles fade away with every mile placed between them and that godawful party, replaced by the comforting feeling of safety only David could provide. Before long, she found herself singing along with her savior to the tunes on the radio, filling any gaps in the lyrics she didn’t know with dancing until the truck eventually came to a stop, followed by the sound of the music being abruptly silenced when the young man shut off the engine.

“You ok, Cece? Thought this place would be a little more your speed.”

"Absolutely!” she piped up enthusiastically, shooting David a blinding, grateful grin as she shifted to a more comfortable position in the passenger seat now that they were safely parked by the clearing. "Thank you so much for getting me out of there when you did. I'm not even exaggerating when I say I was seconds away from having a panic attack with that Kiefer guy cornering me like he did and trying to kiss me."

”Not really in for the hero thing but you looked uncomfortable and he obviously wasn’t taking no for an answer.” Removing the keys from the ignition of his truck, David smiled towards the young girl and motioned with his head for her to follow him. He climbed out of the driver's side and made his way to the bed of the vehicle.

Before he did anything further, the Duke was interrupted by the buzzing of his phone. He pulled his cell from his back pocket and scanned the screen. Four missed calls and all of his messages were blowing up. Not unusual on a winning game day but this was different, something else was happening other than the standard congratulations. The police and ambulances were at ReyRey’s. They weren’t crashing the party, something had happened, something bad. As David investigated the texts further, he began to feel a cold, clammy feeling in his gut.

Allison.

Allison was dead.

He had known her his whole life. This couldn’t be real. This was some kind of sick joke. He moved his gaze up to the redhead walking towards him. God; if this was true this would destroy a whole lot of people. Allison was a fucking idol to these girls. He would keep it quiet until he knew all the facts, there was no need to upset CeCe even further with news that someone she knows may be dead.

Dropping down the door, he gestured with his arm and smiled.

”The VIP section, m’lady.”

“Oh, wow! Isn’t this fancy?” the short girl joked, hosting herself up into the truck bed with some help from David and taking a seat, crossing her legs together. She waited until her host had settled down next to her before wrapping the cozy sherpa blanket around them and speaking again. "You guys did amazing at the game tonight, Dave. I know most people give the glory to Danny and Francis, but if it wasn’t for your assists all season they probably wouldn't even have had the opportunity to get as many baskets as they did." To an outsider looking in, this would seem like an attempt to fluff David's ego, but praising one another came with the territory of knowing each other for so many years.

”You did really great tonight yourself. Stepping in when the rest of the team was sick, must’ve been a big challenge. We’re all super proud of you too.”

The blush in Cece's cheeks was instant-- it was the de facto response anytime David gave her a compliment. "Thank you so much," she graciously replied, shooting David a shy smile while tucking a strand of her red hair behind her ear. "I was so nervous throughout it all, too. You know I've never been a spotlight kind of girl, so the whole situation was something straight out of my nightmares. My knees felt weak the entire time, but considering we won the whole event I'm guessing I didn't do half as bad as I thought I did," she said with a small laugh.

“You’re kidding, right? You were phenomenal!” David offered a compliment to the performance. ”No one could keep their eyes off of you. To be honest, I think the basketball game was secondary at that point.”

The blush in Caitlin’s cheeks extended to her whole face at David’s enthusiastic praise. The only thing she hoped was that he was part of the people who, as he had just declared, couldn’t keep their eyes off her. “Thanks, Dave. Really, it means a lot.”

If David was being truthful, he didn’t really care for the basketball either. He was a player, sure and a decent one at that but he had no real passion for the sport. In reality, he didn’t really know what his passion was, he hadn’t found it yet. He had tried a few things, mostly sports. He did some time at 5 Tool Martial Arts thinking he’d be a karate master, but that didn’t pan out. He tried a summer out on the boats with Clay’s dad, that sucked. He even tried some time behind the deli counter at The Godmother, but he was prone to burning the bread. He knew the right thing could just be around the corner, that something special was out there. He just had to find it.

”Do you enjoy being on the squad?”

Caitlin gave a small shrug. “It’s okay, I guess. I only auditioned because Ma kept bugging me about joining a team so I could be a little more ‘social’,” she confessed, rolling her eyes before shaking her head and letting out a small chuckle. “I mean, I can’t lie and say that joining the squad hasn’t helped me feel more comfortable in my own skin, because it has. I certainly feel a lot more confident than I used to be. I just wish Ma would understand that I’m fine with being on the sidelines, you know? I don’t want to be a star on the mat, the field or the track like Rhett, Rowan and Brogan. I just want to live my life under the radar. I already get enough unwarranted attention as it is from being a Cleary. The last thing I want is to give people another reason to pay me even more attention or give them more opportunities to talk about me.”

David tilted his head in agreement. He understood her struggle all too well. Being an O’Hara was no walk in the park either, especially being the son of the beloved Coach and brother to someone who was once described as being as fragile as anyone could possibly be.

”I get it. Problem is, Eden’s a small town and when you’re someone like us, with history like ours, you can’t help but get the attention. If there’s one thing people in small towns love it’s a story. They’ll be talking about the cheerleaders and the competition for weeks but then no doubt someone on the Southside will burn down a building and then that’ll be the thing on their lips.”

"Heavy lies the crown, I guess…" Caitlin mumbled, crossing her legs in front of her. It wasn’t that she wasn’t thankful for what she had, but that she kind of resented the price she had to pay for it. "I'm hoping that one day I get the chance to start from scratch somewhere else, you know? As grateful and conscious as I am of all the privileges my family history has gotten me in Edenridge, I'd love the opportunity to begin a new journey someplace, with a clean slate and no expectations other than those I set for myself."

”It's true. As a Cleary, you’re under a lot of stress. I know your brother feels the same. Hell: all of us Foundlings do. I know that, for a lot of us, college and the outside world-- that’s the real dream. Leave this hell hole behind and be the people we want to be, not the people we’re expected to be.”

“Well, you’re closer than I am to living the dream, so make sure you let me know how things are on the other side, okay?” she said with a small laugh, lightly punching his shoulder.

David smiled softly at the girl. She really was as sweet as apple pie. ”Life is but a dream.” He locked his hands in front of him as he gazed out upon the lake. His life was far from the dream that Caitlin believed it to be. College was a pipe dream at this point. He had enough grades to graduate but getting out and starting fresh at college? There was no chance. He would likely have to ask his father for a job or maybe help out somewhere else in town. He was getting out of this place alive. Jamie was out. She was free and it was because of her issues. How very silly that mister perfect would be stuck in place whilst the flawed beauty would be the one to escape. David laughed, and silence settled between the two for a short while.

“So I take it this is where you take your innumerable conquests?” Caitlin asked playfully, shooting David a mischievous smirk. As bright and burning as her crush on him was, Cece wasn’t blind or oblivious. She was well aware of David’s playboy reputation, which is why she was trying hard to not get her hopes up. For all she knew, he only saw her as his best friend’s Rhett’s little sister, and this was just his way of cheering her up after a scary encounter.

”Conquests is such a dirty word,” David ran his hand through his curly brown locks before leaning back onto his palms.

Cece couldn't help but chortle and shake her head. "What would you call them, then? Lovers? Booty calls? Side pieces?”

"I like to think more so that they are the ones before The One, helping to prepare me so that I can be good enough for her.” He looked down at her and smiled softly. David had a record-- it was no great secret and he didn’t try to hide it. It was one of the things that made him unabashedly him.

"And I like to think that we’ll always be good enough for the person that we’re meant to be with,” Caitlin mused, pretending she knew more about love than she actually did. “And in case you were wondering: you’re more than good enough, Dave. The amount of girls lining up around the block praying you’ll give them more than the time of day proves that,” she teased with a small smirk, lightly elbowing his side.

David let out a small chuckle as he looked out across the lake. ”They just love the idea of being with Eden royalty with a pretty face-- and, yes: I know I’m pretty. Not many people actually want to date the real Davey O’Hara.” He looked down at the red haired girl, her face alight from the flow of the moon, shining like some kind of diamond. ”Would you say I was good enough for you?”

Caitlin's eyes widened in surprise at the unexpected question. "Come again?" she heard herself asking him, searching his face for any signs of him perhaps being playful or her having misunderstood what he'd said. Had she heard that correctly? Why would David be asking her whether he was good enough for her or not when, just hours before, he’d been calling her a kid? You didn’t ask someone whether you were good for them or not unless…

”You heard what I said.”

What was he saying?! This was his close friend's little sister! Not only that but she was younger than him…much younger. How could he even be entertaining the thought of even considering looking at her in that way? He had known Caitlin since she was in diapers, yet here he was looking at her as a woman; a woman he wanted to be closer to. Guilt was overwhelming him but it wasn’t stopping him.

Cece blinked a few times, her mouth slightly open but no sound coming out. Did he really mean what she thought he did? "You mean good enough for me as, like, a person? Or good enough for me in, um, a different way? Because you've always been more than good enough for me, Dave. 'Good enough' wouldn't even begin to do you justice."

Perhaps it was the way this night had gone? Or an adrenaline surge from the basketball game? Maybe the dredges of massive hype from the party? Or maybe it was the sadness that he was hiding having found out that his childhood friend was dead. It was probably a combination of all of them and something that was inside of him already. In that moment, all of it bubbled up to the surface as he tilted her chin with his finger and planted a soft, small kiss to her lips.

No turning back now.

For the better part of almost four years, David O'Hara had been the sole captor of Cece's young heart. She'd been nine years old when she'd found out the meaning behind the phrase ‘having a crush on someone’, and immediately the redhead's mind went to her brother's close friend. The feelings only intensified as time went on, taking on a deeper meaning as she matured and discovered more about the world. Whether it was his boyish charm, attractive features or the way he always seemed to be there for her whenever she needed him, she wasn't sure. But what Caitlin did know was that, in her eyes, he was perfect. No matter how many girls he slept with or how many hearts he broke, he was her David: the hard-working, funny, protective, one of a kind guy she cared for. She had always imagined how it would be if her feelings were reciprocated by the one she so desperately loved. What a relief it was to see her dreams materialize into the most delightful of realities.

Eventually, it was Caitlin who broke away from the heavenly kiss, eyes slowly fluttering open and latching themselves onto his green ones. Before she could help it, a soft smile crept up in her lips, and her blue orbs filled with sparkling tears of joy.

The young woman pressed her forehead against David's and gently cupped his face with both of her hands. "I’ve loved you for a long time, Dave,” she admitted to him, throwing all caution to the wind and surrendering herself to the moment. "And no matter what’s happened before, what happens now or what will happen next, you will always, always, be perfect to me," she proclaimed, letting her heartfelt statement sink in before capturing his lips with her own in the sweetest, deepest of kisses.

Dating Clay Costigan had become part of Caterina’s routine schedule. When she wasn’t too busy with work and when her children were preoccupied with hanging out with their friends or cousins, Caterina would glance at her phone waiting for him to text or call her. His schedule was more demanding than her’s and even when she was busy, he knew where to find her. She couldn’t help but obsess over him… it was different for her.

They hadn’t started dating too long ago and she found herself unable to get him out of her mind. This was so surreal because last month she simply saw him as Clay, the boy who had a kid crush on her. Clay, the boy who loved to be a thorn in her side. Clay, the boy who comforted her when she wasn’t herself. Clay, the boy that flirted constantly but never crossed boundaries. Clay, the boy she couldn’t stop thinking about.

Clayton was no longer a boy. No, he was a man who made her feel more than she ever was used to. Boundaries were crossed in this very apartment and there was no turning back. Her blood rushed when he was near her, his touch made her crave him, ache for him, and his eyes… she could see how much she meant to him. He wanted her and only her. He couldn’t live without her.

While he flooded her with adoration, she didn’t know what to do with it. Was he her person? Was this the feeling of finding your better half? Your soulmate? Was he all that and more to her? Or was she using him as an escape because he gave her exactly what she needed when she was so obviously drowning? What was Clay to her?

Resting on him as they laid in his bed, Cat traced her pointer finger on his bare chest. He soundlessly slept, his face incredibly peaceful and free of worry. Unable to take her eyes off of him, she thought to herself that this was her reality. Clayton Costigan was her boyfriend. He had texted her right when she was closing shop for the day that he’d be home for a few before he had to go back on duty. She wasn’t going to waste this opportunity while her kids were away. She needed him around so the intrusive thoughts of them not working out stayed at bay.

This week was a good week for them because she didn’t have her children with her. Surprisingly, Tommaso had taken her kids to New York with him for the week to ease the transition of the divorce and to show them that their father still cared. All three of them were on the fence going which required Cat to have a sit down and convince them to give their dad a chance. She apologized for all the times she got angry and argued with their father, exposing them to the unhealthy sight of their parents coming undone. They didn’t deserve that. Lord knows no child deserved that. She promised when they came back she was going to make it up to them.

In time, they agreed. Of course with the incentive that they got to see their cousins that they rarely visited. The Esposito family. She was happy to have a temporary peace treaty made between her and her kids. With their word, they promised to communicate their feelings when it came to her and their father.

Still, even as she laid on a bed that brought her comfort, with a man that made her smile, she knew she could be a better mother. All she can do is try her best to manage herself and her emotions better. Their reactions would be the repercussions she would face when she is in the wrong. But because of them, she would only better herself. They were her everything. They were her world.

Just because she didn’t love her husband didn’t mean they had to stop loving their father. They can come to their own opinions at their own time. Cat refused to talk poorly about Tommaso to them. Instead, she would gently show them that some people were not meant to be and even she was not perfect. Human beings, they all made mistakes. Sometimes really fucked up ones.

For the family, her and her husband tried to keep it together, but instead of them wanting to hold on, they sought pleasure elsewhere. He got lost with other women and she found a compass in alcohol. They would still work together to co-parent and love all three of their children no matter what. They just couldn’t do it married anymore.

Securely wrapping her leg around her boyfriend, not wanting to worry about other responsibilities, Cat brushed her nose on Clay’s cheek, in hopes to nudge him awake. He could really power nap when he needs to. As she tightly held onto him, she could only imagine how he made her feel and how she didn’t want to lose what they had together. No man could match the chemistry he gave to her. The chemistry they had.

The man in her arms, he picked up all her broken pieces and made her feel that even in the heart of a storm, where it’s so easy to lose their way, he would be there for her. He would love her. He may not see beyond the moment but he made her feel like he wouldn’t let her go. That they would walk through life together because he knew how it felt… to be so desperately alone.

To feel lost.

Lonely.

In his apartment, isolated, she felt safe. Wanted. Loved. “Baby…” Cat brought her lips to his ear, breathlessly, beguilingly, tickingly it with her breath.

Clay could still see the text from his Uncle John. The words resonated and appeared in every dream. Every nightmare. He’s Dead. Every last breath of a dream he wondered if that’s what David felt. When the water filled his lungs and the cold clung to his skin, did he struggle? Did he accept his fate? Clay was haunted by the end of his best friend in more ways than one.

He opened his eyes from the realm of dreamland with a short startle. He turned his head to see Cat smiling up at him. It wasn’t a dream. He really had the woman that he had longed for, the woman he had so desperately desired, wrapped up in his arms, lying atop his chest and looking at him in a way that no one else had ever looked at him before. God, she was so beautiful. He just wanted to drown in those hazel eyes every minute of every day.

Clayton brought his hand up behind the stunning brunette’s neck and pulled her in for a kiss. Not just a kiss but a long dance between their lips, soft but firm, every lap of movement reinforcing his desire and love for her. Cat Belmonte was his one and only. He had longed for stolen moments like this and this last week together was the happiest Clay had ever felt. He was good at pretending to be happy it was kind of his thing but for once, he didn’t have to pretend. She had brought him everything he had always hoped she would. He stopped kissing her for a second to look into Cat’s eyes again.

“Best alarm clock ever.”

“Why thank you,” Cat beamed, though taking note of his body shaking prior to him fully registering the day. Shifting herself so that it was more on top of him than not, she looked at him, her hair touching his face and softly whispered, “Bad dream?” If there was one thing Cat was good at, it was noticing the details in people. Maybe not her surroundings, but with people? She could feel when something was off. She was capable of catching lies, ticks, and subtle signs that most people would not see. Call it a sixth sense but she felt like Clay could use her.

“Bad memory.”

Clay wrapped his arms around Cat’s body and pulled her even closer to him. He could feel her heartbeat on top of his, they were beating together, as one, two parts of one working unit. “I….bumped into an old friend, brought back some stuff….” He wondered how his Kitty would feel about him bringing up the David situation? Most people in Edenridge believed his best friend of seventeen years to be nothing more than a dirty pedophile. A child molester. Call it what you want but the boy they once called the Duke was now the bogeyman. “…It’s stirring up some old feelings, not very pleasant ones.”

Resting her weight on him, tracing her finger on his face - his brow, his chin, and his lips - silently and carefully listening, Cat observed her man. Her hazel eyes intently staring into his tender gaze. “I’m here to listen, if you want to share. If not, we can lay here in silence. That’s fine too. Whatever you want, Clay.” Running her hand through his hair, something she did more now than she ever did (ever), Cat gingerly brought her lips to his and devotedly, lovingly kissed him. Not once, not twice, but three times in hopes he’d trust her enough to share. “I might be a gossip but I have no right to judge. And I really don’t share anything that I know I shouldn’t. Well, unless it’s…” She stopped herself when she thought of Tiffannie fucking Father Joe. That was pretty wrong morally. “...something to resolve family drama.”

Clay allowed for his hands to drift down Cat’s bare back and rest on the small of it. He kissed the tip of her nose softly. It was nice to finally have someone to be able to share his pain with. Someone who could understand maybe. “When I was finishing up this morning I ran into Jamie O’Hara. She showed me a letter, like the ones about Allison. This one was about David.”

Where one went, the other followed. That was Clay and David. The Elite. That’s what he and his friends had been called. Clay hates that name. He never felt any different to anyone else but Edenridge held him and his friends on pedestals. They all had so much to live up to but none more so than David and Jamie. The twins were the children of a living legend, the man known universally as Coach. They never stood a chance. “I can’t let Jamie suffer through this shit again, she’s fragile.” Fragile was an understatement when it came to Jamie O’Hara but that was a whole different story.

Tilting her head, taking in everything he was saying, and keeping a constant, gentle stroke on his head and through his hair, Cat’s expression had gone from an uplifting smile to a worried pout. “What about you, baby?” She firmly questioned. “He was your best friend, right?” Clay had a heart of gold that carried so much weight because he cared. He cared too much and no one seemed to notice that he would walk through fire and ice to save this town.

“Everyone needs a shield, that includes you, Clayton.” Wobbling her body so he loosened his grip she sat up on top, “You need just as much support as they do,” Her voice went up an octave and it was clear that Cat was getting pissed off at the letter situation because now it was entering her territory. It was bothering Clay. “Once we find out who’s fucking doing this, I’ll kill them. And if you’re worried about my feelings on David, I never cared. I fucked a man six times my age when I was seventeen and got knocked up. Do you really think I have the right to judge?”

He appreciated her fire, it was one of the things that Clay had always loved about Cat. She was so passionate and so full of life. He pulled her legs over his waist so that the breathtaking beauty straddled him and he sat up, holding their bodies close together before tracing his hands down to rest on the crease between her thighs and her rear. “I don’t know the whole story. David was my best friend, you’re right. He was my brother. I’m gonna figure this out. I’m gonna exorcise all these fucking demons.” He pressed his head against hers. Cat was saying all the right things, she was making him feel at peace. “I’ve made my peace with what happened, now it’s time to help everyone else. I’m gonna fix this baby, then I’m gonna come home to you and be happy.”

“No,” Cat glared at him. Her sharp eyes inches away from his face, capturing his soul. “You’re going to let me help you.” There was no way in hell she’d sit idle. “I’m not some housewife that waits for her man to come home. Let me help you.”

Clay was running numbers in his head like some sort of math whiz (he sucked at math). He knew Cat well enough to know that she wouldn’t lie down on this. She had already made her mind up and was going to help him even if he told her not to. He just had to give her a bone, something to keep her busy and something that may in the long run, aid his cause. What could she do? How could she help? “I know you won’t take no for an answer so how about this? What if you did some canvassing for me? See if any of the desperate housewives are discussing Duke and if they are, see if there is any pertinent info?”

Dully looking at him, unamused and so thrilled, Cat grumbled, “Housewives?” Did he really think the answers were with the older women? She wasn’t dumb. He didn’t want her to get in the way. The people that should be questioned should be all those involved in his circle and the outer circle of that. Family, friends, and whoever the lover was. Was this a losing battle for her? Did he not trust her enough to aid him on his quest? Why was she desperate for his approval and validation?

If Cat argued, he would diminish her intelligence and redirect her out of his way. That’s what every guy did to her, especially her husband. Tommaso belittled her to the point that she no longer knew what she loved anymore. He put doubt in her head that she would never find someone that wanted to love her. That she was undeserving of that kind of happiness. Putting her hands up in a faux surrender, she apathetically agreed, “Fine,” there was a heavy sigh before she continued, “I’ll be a good housewife and talk to the other housewives,” Clearly, Cat was not happy. To the point, she got off of him and tried to leave the bed.

“Hey,” Clay grabbed her hand before she could leave. Cat was very obviously unimpressed with his suggestion and he realised that. “Listen, I know you want to help. I never want to cage you or make you do something you don’t want to. This is just really hard for me. I want you to be safe. I can’t lose you, not now. You are everything to me, this, what we are, it’s everything that I have ever wanted and I don’t want to lose that. Call me selfish but Clay Costigan has found the spark that ignited his heart and its name is Cat Belmonte.”

Part of her loved hearing what he was saying, the other part wasn’t satisfied. Gritting her teeth, she pulled her hand away from him, “I’m not just a fantasy, Clay.” Her voice wasn’t angry. No, it felt like her heart just sank to the bottom of the ocean with no way to be found because it was surrounded by darkness.

Was this her self-sabotaging herself or was she just hurt? Getting off the bed, she started gathering her clothes, “Do you think I’m not afraid of losing you? You’re a fucking cop. That’s something I’m signing up for,” This made her feel like if she actually pursued being a cop, he wouldn’t like the idea of her doing so. The civil service exam was soon and maybe she wasn’t cut out to be one.

“Just because I don’t do the same things you do doesn’t mean I can’t die. We all can die. I can die from alcohol poison any day now. You want me to be your everything? Treat me like I’m not this woman you’ve had a crush on since you were a kid. Treat me like a goddamn person.” At this point she had her jeans and her bra on. Cat thought what they had was good. It felt so good. Now, all she could feel was pain.

Clay got out of the bed and made his way over to the older woman. “I’m sorry,” He put his hands onto her arms and sighed. “You’re right. You are a badass and I was just being stupid and protective.” His fingers wandered up to her jaw before he wrapped his hands around the back of her neck. “Kitty, I want you to be a part of every aspect of my life. I really do. I want to share everything with you. I don’t care if that sounds sappy or too forward, I don’t give a shit.” Clay dropped his hands down to his own waist and took a slight step back away from Cat. “Anyway you can help me, I’ll gladly take it.”

Instead of responding, Cat kept silent and turned around to put her shirt on. Her hazel eyes began to water. She didn’t want him to see her cry. This just hit home and she didn’t know how to react so all she could do is say, “I’m sorry…” She didn’t mean to pressure him to give in. She wanted it to be his choice but now it didn’t feel right. The tears began to run down her cheeks, “I’m so sorry…” What were they doing? This wasn’t right. They shouldn’t be together. She wasn’t good for him. With silent urgency, she tried to wipe her tears from under her eyes. No… stop. Don’t show him how weak you are.

“Oh hell no,” Clay grabbed Cat by the shoulder and span her to face him. She liked it rough in bed but this was something different. “You are not crying because I’m an idiot. You’re not doing that.” He wrapped her up into his arms and held her impossibly close against him. “I’ve still got some growing up to do and some learning to do but there is one thing I know for sure. There ain’t nobody else in this world for me. My heart is yours. It always has been. I never want to see you cry or cause you pain. Kitty…” He gently placed his forehead against hers, their noses touching. He reached a hand behind her head and grabbed a handful of her hair. “…I love you.”

Stunned at those last words, and still very much crying, Cat stared into Clay’s sunlight brown eyes, her heart stopping. She stood there in disbelief. “What?” She questioned as if those words weren’t something she had heard in years. Something completely and utterly foreign to her. “You… you don’t know that.” He loved her? Like truly? Why? What did she have to offer? She was just going through the motions. She had nothing to offer him. Well, aside from sex. Really, all she was, was a body. “You… can’t say that. We just started dating.”

“Well, I did,” Clay was not going to back down from this one. He was a fighter. He let go of his hold from her and backed away, picking up his own clothes off of the floor and beginning to slip them on. “I don’t expect you to say it back. Like you said, we just started dating,” He glanced over at the clock, he was going to be late and Chief Broadus would be pissed but that didn’t really matter at this point. “But I said it. It’s not an expectation. It’s not a curse. It’s just how I feel. You can feel however you want. I just wanted you to know.” After placing a t-shirt over his bare chest, the young officer sat back down on the bed to tie his shoes. “I told you, Cat. I’m the guy for you.”

Even though he was saying all the right words, his actions made her ache. He was leaving her. It didn’t matter if he had a job to go to. He was leaving her. Abandoning her like every one of her lovers did. She was scared. How did he expect her to react? She was getting a divorce. An obvious example of how loveless her life has been. The only true love she’s ever felt was what she had with her kids and them for her. Cat wanted to tell him that this was all too much. That she didn’t know how she was supposed to act when she was likely more terrified of losing him than he was of her. Rather than react poorly, she finished getting dressed, slipping on her socks and shoes while standing. “Okay,” Cat bravely smiled. He had to go to work. The last thing she wanted to do was keep him from doing what he loved.

Clay got up to his feet. He had fucked it. He had fucked his dream life with his dream girl and he had done it in a week. Way to go Costigan. He brushed Cat’s cheek with his palm and sighed. “I don’t wanna go but I have to,” He leant in for a kiss again. He didn’t even know if this was what she wanted, he would be surprised if it was after all this. He should’ve just kept quiet, he should’ve just said it was a bad dream and moved on but he wanted to be honest and now the entire thing sucked. “I’ll message you when I get finished. Let you know I’m safe.”

“Please do…” She muttered. Cat felt incredibly pathetic. Weak. This was all her doing. She had hurt him. That’s what she did. She hurt people and they left her. She caressed his face, brushing his hair behind his ear with her hand - the deepest sadness in her eyes, as if it was a vast ocean of endless to. “I’ll be waiting.” She hated herself. She hated that she couldn’t tell him she loved him back because she did. She was just so fucking terrified to say those three words and then he would leave her for good. He would hate her. What was she doing? Falling in love with Clay Costigan wasn’t part of the plan.

“You better be,” Clay gently pressed his lips to hers again before fully pulling away and heading towards the door. He cracked it open a touch and inhaled deeply; his face transforming into the goofy grin that he had worn like a mask for the better part of twenty years. He placed his maverick aviator shades onto his face and fired two finger guns at his good lady, “Cos when I’m done, I’m gonna rock you like a hurricane baby.” He placed some money on the side counter. “You already know the line,” He departed swiftly. If he had stayed, he would never have left.

After Clay left, Cat dropped to the floor. She really fucked this up. One short moment of happiness and she was already ruining it. She stood in Clay’s apartment for a good ten minutes crying and hating herself before she cleaned her face, retouched her makeup that was now flakey, and took a few deep breaths. In and out. In and out. In and out. It was time for her to do a couple of errands before she called it a night and went back to her cookie cutter family home in Eastbrook.

Life goes on.

It always does.

Time and time again she went through deep waters, drowning. She didn’t realize how lonely and sad she was until Clay came in like a crashing wave. She was too busy being everyone’s anchor. That’s just the role she was given and as such, she had to own it. It was how things were supposed to be.

Drowning… She was drowning and the only person that saw her struggle was the man she pushed away. He didn’t abandon her. He didn’t purposely leave her. He wouldn’t. She knew that. It was her. All her. Scared of being saved and actually feeling pure, unadulterated, and raw happiness. Scared of staying afloat, with a man that could carry her like no other. Why was she a walking contradiction? She didn’t want to be trapped. It suffocated her. That didn’t mean she was against him loving her, holding her, and wanting her. Caterina so desperately needed him to hold her head above water, yet there was so much doubt. Chains holding her back from loving him full heartedly and steadfast.

Why the hell did Clay want her?

If only she could learn to master the art of drowning. The art of learning to survive, may it be in water or emotions. But she knew she couldn’t do it alone. All she ever was, was alone. She wanted Clay to stay.

As a Belmonte, Cat had to keep it together. A smile for a smile. That’s how this game of pretend would go. There may be hurt residing inside her heart and mind but at the end of the day, she was an actress. Neither Cat or Clay could afford showing their pain. Not today, at least.

They had to keep swimming.

Driving through the streets and finding his way to the tattoo parlor that Mei Ramsey worked at, TNT slowly pulled around it to follow his brother’s instructions the best he could. Molotov had told him he found some witch place which was surprising to the local Lyft driver because Chase knew just about everywhere in this town. Well, clearly, not everywhere.

With his windows down, having no fucks to give, the socially awkward serpent bobbed his head to Enter Sandman by Metallica. It was blasting out of his car around 3:45 in the morning. It’s okay. Who needs sleep anyways? Not him. His brother was lucky he was still working because if he was home his phone would’ve been on silent and he’d be playing the guitar until his eyes demanded sleep.

His car was small enough to go through the alleyway and as he pulled out of it he glanced at the backside of the parlor, where there was indeed this random red door like Tov had described. Chase noticed the boys sitting on the curb looking through a bag filled with healing crystals. Drunk out of their minds. Honestly, pretty in the norm for them.

Molotov and Ransom. Inseparable most days, especially since they were each other’s enablers. Unfortunately, TNT didn’t know Ransom well. That was entirely his own fault because up until recently he was standoffish and didn’t want to build familial bonds with other serpents. For the most part, they only associated with each other in circumstances similar to this. When the dynamic duo got up to no good and found themselves stranded on an island. Metaphorically speaking.

Half of the time they didn’t even know where they were. Thankfully Tov had told him the key direction, which was ‘behind the tattoo place’. Once Chase heard that, he was able to pinpoint exactly where they were and head on over. Stopping right on the sidewalk, since he was coming from the right of them, he glanced at his almost empty gas tank before turning his attention to the two lost souls. Blankly staring, he waited for them to notice he was here and get in the car. Until then, he would keep vibing to his music while taking in the scent of the peach odor-eliminating freshener (it was in the form of a mini vent clip).

“Dude, I’m tell’n you I feel s’mth’n,” Molotov slurred to his best friend as the other man shoved his face away from his own, laughing loudly. He continued to try and shove the crystal into Ransom’s face.

“Ya don’ feel shit!” Ransom exclaimed goodnaturedly, taking his hand from his friend’s face and grasping the back of his head with it before pulling him into a headlock as loud music started to reverberate through the alley. He’d just finished giving Tov a hard noogie when TNT’s car pulled up, and he released his best friend with a teasing, “Bet’cha didn’ feel that!”

“...You’right, I didn’...” Molotov admitted before turning his head to his brother in the car and throwing his hands up excitedly, the crystal he’d been holding flying out of his grasp and into the dark end of the alley. Cheerfully, he exclaimed, “Dynamiiiiiite! My boy, you came!”

“Yeah, I’m here,” TNT boredly stated. “You gonna’ get in, princesses? Or am I going to wait all fucking morning?” As harsh as Chase’s words usually came across, this was actually him being good natured and humorous. His tone wasn’t aggressive as usual and he had a subtle smile on. Unbeknownst to himself, he had forgotten to put a photo booth picture of him and Tiff back into his wallet, after buying pizza hours ago for himself. It was resting by the center console face down.

Speaking of princesses, TNT barely processed that his car was no longer his car. There was a fluffy duck wearing a sunhat and holding a watermelon hanging from his rear mirror. A pink car trash can hanging from the passenger seat, which now held his cans. There no longer was an overflow of Red Bull cans because someone - not him - was maintaining the cleanliness of the car. Pink and sparkly hair clips made home in his cup holders, as well as a handful of scrunchies and golden bobby pins. A glittery pink Juicy Tube lip gloss (in the brightest peach color) and a mini peach-scented body spray were laid on his dashboard by Squirtle, who was now accompanied by a plushie Eevee wearing a flower crown. Tiffannie didn’t even know much about Pokemon-- all she knew was that it was cute and better to put in TNT’s car than Hello Kitty. His dark world was now covered in pink and cute, quite literally, and he thought nothing about it.

The two men scrambled to get up and happily ran towards the car, wrestling each other in the short distance it took to get there. The battle for shotgun was a continuous one between the predictable pair and it didn’t matter whether or not both of them were drinking for it to take place. Ransom shoulder checked Molotov to the side just as the pyro was about to open the passenger side door, causing him to lose his balance and stumble back onto the ground while Ransom giggled uncontrollably. Never one to leave his best friend on the ground unless he was planning on joining him, Ransom reached out a hand to help him up.

Only for Molotov to use the chance upon standing to yank Ransom towards him, all but spinning around him and yanking open the passenger door to jump in and slam it closed with a shit eating grin. Ransom stood outside, dazed for a moment before cursing lightheartedly and sliding into the back seat. Immediately, his senses were confused. He was seeing pink everywhere and the car that usually smelled like old Red Bull and weed- totally their fault, no amount of air freshener had fixed it before either- now had an extremely fruity aroma to it.

“Wha’ the fuck?” He muttered to himself, looking up as the car started moving and immediately landing his gaze on the little duck staring into his soul from the rearview. “Wha’ the fuck?” He repeated quietly, leaning forward to drape over the shoulder of the passenger seat and tap Molotov’s shoulder incessantly.

“What?” Tov asked, taking his gaze off of the bag of crystals to stare into his best friend’s wide eyes. Ran flailed his hand about the car, silently begging his best friend to look around so he could prove he wasn’t hallucinating. In response, Molotov finally took in the now unfamiliar surroundings. “Holy shit, T, someone like…reverse robbed your fuckin’ car!” He shouted over the music, looking to his unfazed brother. “It’s fuckin’ pink as shit in ‘ere, wha’ ‘appened?” His gaze fell on the matte white back of a photo on the now decorated dashboard, and he reached his hand out towards it. “Wha’s this?”

TNT was quick to snatch the photo and pocket it in his jacket. “It’s nothing.” Just when his cheeks started to show a little kiss of pink, the song switched to something even more shocking for Ransom and Tov to digest. What I’ve Been Looking For, which was part of the High School Musical soundtrack. A movie that at this point Chase could quote now. Instead of pointing it out, TNT just kept driving, not explaining the situation of his car and the atmosphere. It was nothing. He had a friend. It was obvious. Why did he have to say it out loud?

“No way bro, you’re blushin’, your car’s pink,” Molotov grinned excitedly and tossed the bag of crystals onto the dash before turning to his brother, leaning towards him as Ransom leaned further into the front to do the same. “Y’know wha’ I’m thinkin’ Ran?”

“I know,” Ransom answered back cheekily, drumming his fingers on the headrest excitedly. “Our boy gone ‘n’ got ‘imself a girlfriend-”

“An’ she’s a regular Barbie doll,” Molotov cut off, faking horror as he held one of the glittery clips in the air between the three of them, the streetlights making them sparkle at regular intervals like a beacon. He looked to Ransom as the other man grinned ear to ear before turning back to his brother. “Are you datin’ a Northie, T?”

“A Northie?!” Ransom exclaimed dramatically as he tossed himself back into his seat. “The horror!”

“WE’RE NOT FUCKING DATING!” TNT was quick to force his foot on the brake pedal, causing the other two to jerk forward. He turned the music off as his car went to a complete stop and grumbled, “Put your seatbelts on, assholes.” Had he thought about asking Tiffannie out? Sure, he had. Numerous times. More times within the past week than he could count but he wasn’t going to jump the gun and he couldn’t assume she’d want to be with trash like him. They were friends. That’s it. Friends. “You two should mind your goddamn business. Since when did you give a fuck who I got with?”

The sudden halt in momentum as Tov smacked into the glovebox caused his teeth to clatter together and his breath to catch in his throat as phantom pains of an accident long past flashed into his alcohol-laden mind. He closed his eyes against the sudden onslaught as the sudden silence of the car smothered him like a plastic bag over his head. He gripped his right arm tightly against his chest as he tried to breathe through the rush of panic.

“Tov, hey Tov,” Ransom called to his friend after getting up from his sprawled position on the backseat’s floor, sobering quickly at the distant look in the other blond’s eyes. “It’s alright bro, I’m here,” Ransom reached over to the hyperventilating man and gently pulled him back against the passenger seat, locking his arms around the other’s rapidly moving chest. “Shit, sorry Chase, we were jus’ teasin’ ya,” He said to the youngest of the three while he kept Molotov from curling in on himself. The panicked man threw a hand behind him to tightly grip the back of his friend’s golden head, grounding himself in the familiar feeling. In response, Ransom leaned into the pull and kissed the back of Tov’s head before resting his forehead against it. “C’mon Ollie, yer here with us. Yer arm’s okay.”

“Think ‘m gonna puke,” Tov said breathlessly, body shaking against Ransom’s anchoring hold.

“Hold it,” Ransom replied, looking to TNT and nodding for him to start driving again. “Gas station’s just ‘round the corner.”

Having closed his eyes throughout Tov’s panic attack, pissed at himself for letting his emotions dictate his actions, TNT nodded at Ransom’s words. Opening his eyes, Chase eased up off the breaks and drove toward the gas station, the one across from the police station. He stood silent, no longer smiling, no longer feeling those butterflies that Tiff gave him. He was focused on how much he triggered his brother. Time and time again, his explosive behavior put Tov in a rough spot. He really wasn’t good for him. That was clear. As he pulled by the gas tank, unlocking the doors and putting his car in park, his phone vibrated. He’d let Tov and Ransom do what they had to do while he filled up his tank.

When he noticed who was calling him, he thought to himself how weird it was that she chose now, out of all times, to call him. He wondered if she knew he wasn’t in a good headspace or did she simply want to hear his voice? Once he exited the car, he picked up the phone, observing a black mustang park on the other side of the gas tank he was at. “Hey,” he quietly greeted. His calm stare catching the sight of the ugly smug on the Mustang owner’s face, who was exiting the car now. He spat not too far from Chase’s right sneakers.

"Hi Chasey!" came the affectionate voice from the other side of the speakers. Its vivacious, cheerful nature happened to belong to the blue-eyed blonde who had taken residence in Chase's thoughts since their first meeting over a month before.

The stranger, obviously not from Edenridge, hooked his thumbs into his pant’s pockets and strolled toward the convenience store.

“Everything okay?” Chase worriedly asked.

"Mhm!" the girl replied as she settled into her bed and under the covers at the Belmonte home. "I woke up to give Auntie Silvia her 4AM medicine and I saw you were online a little bit ago, so I wanted to call you before I went to bed! You know I like to call you before I go to sleep. It helps me sleep better."

“That’s right. Glad to be of service to you, m’lady,” TNT joked as he watched the screen on the pump rise in price per gallon, while Tiffannie’s cute little giggle could be heard on the speaker. “She doing okay?” He inquired with a subtle concerned tone. The serpent boy tried his best to check on Tiff throughout his day because of everything she was going through with her family. Both immediate and the outer circle (the Belmontes). The last thing he wanted was for her to feel alone. He knew that feeling all too well. Tiff didn’t deserve that… So, he would go out of his way to make sure she felt wanted and safe.

The young woman gave a shrug he couldn't see, the previous happiness in her face now being replaced with sad sorrow. "Not really. She's still the same as before-- wanting to sleep a lot because of how exhausted and in pain she is. The morphine can only do so much, you know? She didn't even wake up when I went to give her the IV medicine this morning. I stroked her hair and kissed her forehead and made sure she was comfortable before I left, and even then she just stirred a little but didn't fully wake up…" she trailed off, getting sad at the image of her frail aunt in her hospital bed. "I just wish I could do more for her sometimes."

“Yeah, I get that,” Leaning against his car, Chase looked up, finally feeling tiredness creeping into his soul. Yeah, he needed a Red Bull. “But you’re doing your part and that’s all we can do. Sometimes life has its own plans for us and it ain’t always what we want,” He widely yawned, closing his eyes as he talked to the prettiest girl, “That’s just how shit is but you’re a good person, Tiff. Trust me when I say that.” Her voice was incredibly soothing. If he wasn’t out driving two drunk people around, he could definitely fall asleep listening to her voice.

Tiffannie let out a long, deep sigh. "Thank you for saying that, Chasey. I really needed it. It gets a little hard sometimes," she confessed with a soft smile she wished he could see. In times like these, all Peach could think of to make things even better was if her friend were to physically be there with her so she could hug, snuggle and cuddle with him. "It’s crazy, how you always seem to know the perfect way to make me feel so much better about myself and my situation. You are so, so, so amazing. I feel really lucky to have found you when I did and to have you in my life."

Opening his eyes to her words, feeling all her consideration and emotional warmth, Chase felt his chest ache. Not out of sadness. It was a feeling he felt more each day ever since that night at the diner. What he had with her wasn’t something he could replicate with anyone else and whatever it was brought peace to his mind, calm to his spirit, and hope for his tomorrow. “Hey, random, but… do you want to meet my family?” Was this the appropriate time to ask her this? He didn’t know. Still, it felt right so he did. “Don’t feel pressured to say yes, I just thought it would be cool… for you… to meet them.”

"You want me to meet your family?" Peach inquired to ensure she'd heard that correctly, perking up from her previous position in bed. Her heart was doing little somersaults of excitement in her chest, and the corners of her mouth were curling upward. She knew getting her hopes up could be a bad idea that would set her up for hurt. For all she knew, Chase just wanted her to meet his father and brother because of how much time they spent together as friends. But as much as she wanted to ignore it, Tiff could sense that what they had went beyond your typical friendship. She knew she liked her Chasey a lot more than just a friend. Maybe this meant he felt the same way about her too.

“Yeah? Is it weird?” TNT began regretting his decision to ask. He made things fucking awkward now. “I just… so you already know my family. Well, we’re not blood. That doesn’t mean they’re not my family. Francis… Demo… is my father and Oliver… Molotov... is my brother.” This would be the first time he gave her his family’s biological names, either out of panic or he was hoping she’d see there was no ill intentions behind his actions. “It doesn’t matter if I wasn’t born a Dawson. I’d die for my father. Same goes for my bro. They’ve done so much for me, Tiff. I don’t even know how I can put that in words.”

He was rambling. She probably didn’t want to meet them. Why the hell did he assume? “But, like, I was thinking ‘hey, maybe I could invite my friends too’ so you could meet all the people that help me, uh, be okay, I guess.”

Help.

His tired self was word-vomiting again. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to jump the gun. You just, I… you’re important to me, Tiffannie.” Finally, Chase stopped spitting out words in hopes to save face. He breathed into his phone, nervous as hell.

There was silence in the other line as the meaning of his words fully sunk in. He told her his father and brother’s real names. He trusted her enough to tell her their real names. He wanted her to meet his family and friends because, in his own words, she was important to him. She was important to him! Wouldn’t you believe it! He’d basically said he loved her!

The next thing that Chase heard was Tiffannie's squeal of excitement and small claps, both sounds appropriately toned down so as not to wake the other dwellers in her family's home. "Oh, Chaseyyyyyy! I would love to meet your family and your friends!" she cried out happily, positively beaming now and nearly in tears of emotion. "I've heard so much about them for so long-- it would be the best thing ever to finally get to meet them!"

His nerves relaxed when she reacted positively. Thank God. He thought he almost blew it. “Awesome! Great. Glad you’re excited.” If he was home he’d roll over in his bed and scream in his pillow but he couldn’t do that shit. Not at a public gas station. “I was thinking, noon, at Lyon’s park? I’ll text you to make sure everyone is down for a last minute get together. Even if they aren’t, we can have a day at the park, how’s that sound?”

"That sounds PERFECT!" she confirmed, still grinning so hard it almost hurt. How could she even sleep now knowing that she was about to meet the most important people in Chase’s life in just a few hours’ time?! This was amazing! “Ohmygosh, this is so exciting! I don’t even know how I’m going to be able to sleep tonight anymore!”

Suddenly, in the midst of her mind running a thousand miles a minute listing all of the activities she had to put on her schedule to make sure she was looking perfect to make the best impression on everyone, a haunting thought came to the forefront of her mind. “Ohmygosh, Chasey-- what am I going to wear!?” she wailed in despair, allowing herself to dramatically collapse onto the mattress. Her usual outfits, while considered very trendy and fashion-forward in Los Angeles, would always earn her second glances in Edenridge. She couldn’t wear her crop tops, corsets, tube tops, tiny skirts or mini dresses to meet Chase’s family-- and that was 95% of her wardrobe! Did she even have anything in her selection that was appropriate for such an important event? She sure hoped so.

“… clothes?” The serpent boy responded, not knowing how she wanted him to answer. “You look good in just about anything so I’m sure you’ll find something.” He complimented before realizing how late (early?) it was getting. Wasn’t she supposed to go to sleep?

Time always flew when he was talking to her. “Hey, you should get some rest. I have to head home soon and I don’t want you to regret not getting much sleep, okay?” This was the worst part, having to say goodbye and hang up but he had to take his drunk bros home, try to sleep, and inform his family about the luncheon. There was a lot to do in only a few hours. “You’ll see me soon.”

The young woman sighed deeply again. “Okay…” Tiffannie replied sadly, lips pouted in resignation and displeasure. She hated when her conversations with Chase came to an end, even when the guarantee of spending time with him in person again was so near. She could listen to his voice and his stories all the time without getting bored or overwhelmed. It felt really nice to have someone like that in her life. "Be safe, okay? And will you pretty, pretty, pretty pleeeeeease let me know when you get home, so I know you made it back okay? Can you do that for me, my sweet, darling, handsome, beautiful Chasey of my heart?”

God. All the compliments made him flustered. Did she even know what her words sounded like? Was he the only one she talked to like this? Clearing his throat, making a low ahem sound, TNT nodded as if she could see him before responding assuringly, “Sure thing. I’ll text you the moment I hit the door.” The strange feeling crept within his stomach and upward, where his insides fluttered. This was a big move for him. Actually letting someone know his whereabouts because they were worried for him. He never had the leisure to understand since most serpents gained independence at a young age and if they didn’t, they still tried to be involved in town just as much as everyone else was. Look away for one second and the next thing you know someone died. “Be sure to text me when you’re up. I like it when you do… it’s nice to wake up to.”

The butterflies in Tiff’s stomach went into a frenzy at Chase’s words-- just like they always did whenever he said he liked something she did. The best part was that he seemed to like everything she did without her even trying. All she had done, from the very first time they had spent together at Dolly’s that night, was be her own unique, unapologetic self. It was so heartwarming to know that there were people out there who appreciated her true self.

"I definitely will! Pinky promise!” she said enthusiastically, basking in the warmth of the good feelings her friend stirred inside her before admitting a sad defeat and calling the conversation to an end. “I guess I’ll just go to sleep now…” Tiff lamented with one last dramatic sigh. “Good night, Chasey.”

“Goodnight, Peach.”

And after blowing the young man a loud kiss, the blonde ended the call and snuggled deeper into her bed. She fell asleep almost instantly, with dreams of her and Chase on her mind.

TNT stood there holding his phone in silence gawking at the gas pump. How long did their conversation go on for? Where were Tov and Ransom? What the fuck was his life?

Glancing down at his phone, he opened his text thread with her and stared at a picture she sent him two days ago.

He smiled.

Ransom quickly jumped out, taking a second to steady himself before he flung open the passenger side and coaxed Molotov out of the car and straight into the convenience store and all the way into the bathrooms in the back. He kicked open the men’s room door and dropped his pale best friend to his knees in front of the toilet just seconds before Molotov couldn’t hold it back anymore. Sighing, Ransom pulled one of Dutchess’ hair ties out of his back pocket and began gently pulling Tov’s hair back to tie it up.

“Jesus Ollie, ya really know how ta end a conversation,” He mumbled out, running his hand through his hair while he leaned back against the stall wall, rubbing soothing circles into the quivering man’s back.

“H-ha, d-don’t I know it,” he huffed out unsteadily as he stared, eyes glossy and glazed, into the dirtied toilet water before losing his stomach again. “Wasn’ his fault, triggered him first.”

“I know,” Ransom soothed, no judgment in his tone. “Chase has ‘is own shit ta sort through, we shoulda thought about that before teasin’ ‘im but-”

“But we’re drunk,” Tov huffed before rolling his eyes. “Or at least we were, this was pretty soberin’.”

“Usually that’s just ya makin’ room for more,” Ransom laughed humorlessly. “Ya gonna be ok?”

“‘Course,” Tov answered, raising his gaze to follow his friend as he stood and held a hand out to him for the second time that night. Unlike last time where it had been playful and teasing, the hand grasping his was solid and supportive, lifting him to his feet in a single strong pull. “Always am.” Not even deigning to give that bulllshit lie a response, Ransom pulled Molotov out of the stall and over to the sink to wash the wavy haired boy’s sweaty and tearstained face with the chemically scented soap and rough paper towels.

“Gonna talk ‘bout it?”

“Not unless I gotta.”

“So no.”

“No. Not tonight.”

“Okay.”

No longer on the phone with Peach, TNT waited for his tank to fill up completely. Gas was getting stupid expensive but his many jobs needed the fuel. The city prices were gradually trickling in and Chase hated it. Working many odd jobs and delivering for R2 on the side would only get him so far. He needed to think about where he was heading. He’d be twenty one in December and he was still stuck making shit money. That’s part of the reason why he couldn’t leave the serpents. R2 paid better than any other employer he had. It sucked, but a boy’s got to do what a boy’s got to do.

Wait, since when did he care about the future? Furrowing his eyebrows at the thought, he let a simpler one intrude as he annoyingly growled, “Tov better get me a fucking Red Bull.” He did not have a problem. How could he? Red Bull wasn’t liquor or hard drugs or weed for that matter. It was just energy. Chase needed Red Bull because it gave him wings. Helped him conquer his long ass day. Fly like an angel or some shit. He loved that shit and it was the one thing he refused to give up. It wasn’t an addiction. It was a necessity.

His attention was ripped away from his desire for caffeine to a dark haired girl pushing a man away from the distance. They were at the payphone on the right side of the building. The only payphone Edenridge had. This was the same guy that got out of that nice black mustang on the other side of the gas tank Chase was in not too long ago. The same guy that looked like an absolute fucker.

“I said no, creep! I don’t even know you.” The young girl stepped back, searching for an exit or a route to run. There was clear regret written all over her face.

The older man, probably twice her age, maliciously chuckled, “I’m just saying a pretty little thing such as yourself shouldn’t be out here alone. Let me take you home.”

Then he touched her.

“Get off of me!”

And at that moment, TNT’s eyes glazed over.

"We gotta get him some fuckin' Red Bull," Molotov said to Ransom as they walked out of the bathroom together several minutes later. "I told him I would get him a Red Bull."

"Might as well just get 'im a twelve pack with how he goes through 'em," Ransom huffed as he led his woozy friend to the right aisle with a supportive arm gripped tight around his shoulders. They only had one twelve pack left, so the two blondes quickly grabbed it along with a couple ho-hos and a bag of chips before heading to the register.

TNT opened his trunk, taking out his handy dandy wrench, before slamming it shut. Shuffling to the black mustang, he placed the wrench inside his hoodie pocket and went into his jacket to pull out a switchblade. His face was drained from all emotion and he had the coldest of stares. He sliced into the back tire of the mustang puncturing it, which caused the air to leave it fast. As if he was on auto-pilot, he strolled to the side view mirror, running the knife on the side of the car, ruining the new paint job. When he reached the mirror he kicked it in, breaking it off the car.

“Hey isn’t that your car?” The girl pulled her wrist back, her heart racing.

“You’re just trying to distract me so you can get—”

TNT pocketed his knife (now closed) and took out his wrench, slamming it into the headlights.

“HEY WHAT THE FUCK?!” The guy came rushing to the boy destroying his expensive wheels. “WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?” The guy was quick to turn the southie around to slam him in the face with his hard right hook. There was no response from TNT, so instead, the foreigner continued to bash into the serpent’s face with his brawny knuckles. When he let out enough steam, holding TNT by the collar, he watched in horror as the serpent kid looked at him with hollow eyes.

Spitting the blood out of his mouth to the side, TNT let his soulless gaze pierce the heart of the older man.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

With no hesitation, TNT slammed the wrench against the man’s jaw before proceeding to crush his skull with it and cleaning the mustang with the man’s bloody face.

The girl approached the scene and instead of horror, her eyes widened in confusion. This was one way to save her. Were all the serpents like this?

As the other two serpents walked obliviously out of the store with their items, laughing at the last thing Molotov had said, the sight across the parking lot had them freezing before breaking into a dead run to get to their wayward brother.

At this point, TNT was on top of the now unconscious man, letting all his past traumas out into this ass beating. Serves him right for hurting a girl that was barely legal.

The girl tried her best to talk to the boy who got lost in his brutal violence, “Hey… I think you’re good… um… you can stop now…”

"TNT, stop!" Molotov demanded as he barrelled into his brother, grabbing him around the waist from behind and dragging him off the bloodied man. Ransom immediately knelt down over the downed man, checking for a pulse before sighing in relief and wiping away at the spot he'd touched with his sleeve.

"He'll live, let's get the fuck outta here," Ransom declared detachedly, looking to the girl who's arm was already bruising in a very distinct pattern and analyzing the situation quickly. "Tov, get 'im in the back seat an' bring 'im back ta us, now," the suddenly very alert Molotov nodded, hefting his smaller brother up in his grasp and carrying him back to the car effortlessly against his flailing. He turned to the harassed girl and questioned, "You, can ya drive? Are ya sober?"

“Ah yes, and yes,” The young girl didn’t expect her night to end up like this. All she did was sneak out of her house to talk to her ex boyfriend. They fought. He left her stranded. She forgot her phone in his car. So she ended up walking to this gas station to call her brother. Unfortunately, she didn’t get a chance because she was about to get pulled in some random man’s car and likely raped. This was a lot for her to think about but there wasn’t any time right now. She had to focus on getting her saviors out of here. Quickly, she scanned across the street to notice Sly James (or who the boys know as Rocky) exiting the police station and looking at the ruckus from where he stood. Not knowing any of the familial bonds that the cop had with these kids, the girl squealed, “There’s a cop! We gotta’ go.”

Ransom tossed Chase's keys to the young girl, which had dropped in the scramble, and took off running for the car alongside her. He dashed around to the pump to rip it out of the tank and replace it, slamming the lid closed before looking back across the parking lot to lock eyes with Rocky James. His face went pale and he quickly ducked into the back with the other two men, helping Tov wrestle the bloody wrench out of TNT’s grasp while the girl in the driver’s seat peeled out of the lot.

“TNT, Chase! Stop bro, it’s us!” Tov growled in his brother’s ear as he tangled his limbs with his own. “It’s okay!”

As the girl sped off, her heart racing, but oddly excited with all the thrill, she wondered if it was a good time to ask where they wanted her to take them. To the hospital? To the park? To the middle of nowhere? While she was known for being quite the vocal lass, she decided against it. Sometimes silence was the best form of communication. Before she realized it, she was driving on the route she knew verbatim, since it was something she took everyday during the school year with her sister. Her home was safe and she hoped they didn’t mind. Maybe she should treat them to some of her sister’s pies… What was it she made? Banoffee and Mississippi Mud Pie. God, her sister was so talented. She was jealous. She couldn’t bake for shit.

There was so much shaking inside of Tov’s arms. Chase’s grip on the wrench didn’t loosen. He was like a raging bull being held down, roughly elbowing his brother’s stomach and trying to pull his weapon back from his oppressor. His eyes came back to the present when the girl in the front seat decided to play music and the first song that came on from his phone was Crazy Train by Ozzy Osborne. The loudness caused her to jump so she lowered the volume down a bit. It was at that instant his grip started to ease and his body relaxed.

Registering his surroundings, no longer holding the wrench, he looked from Ransom then to Molotov. Where was he? His face was inches away from his brother’s. A little too close for comfort. “Uh… we good? What happened?”

Molotov relaxed his grip on Chase as Ransom finally got the wrench out of his grass, then both men collapsed like marionettes with their strings cut. “You fucking blew up again man, all your dynamite at once,” He answered, out of breath from the struggle. Ransom nodded before running his hand through his dirty blonde hair and cursing when he remembered there was blood on it from his fight for the wrench. Tov grimaced in sympathy before bringing his attention back to his brother. “Full blackout.”

Sensing that the brothers needed their privacy, Ransom crawled over the center console and into the passenger seat. He told the girl driving, “Let’s get ya home, we’ll figure the rest after yer safe,” before turning the volume up a little louder to give Molotov and TNT some semblance of privacy.

“C’mere,” Tov demanded gently, instinctively licking the cuff of his sleeve and taking it to his brother’s face to clear it of some of the blood, a classic Papa Demo move he’d picked up over the years. “You okay?”

“Yeah?” Adjusting himself, not even feeling pain even if his lip was busted and he looked like shit, TNT explained, “I was just getting gas, dude. I don’t remember shit. Why? Did I kill someone?” It started to dawn on Chase what had just transpired as he looked at his fists and his bloody wrench. “Ah fuck, I did, didn’t I?” Shit. He had just started getting happy and he was going straight to jail, wasn’t he? What the fuck was wrong with him?

His numb state turned into panic as he started to hit his head in anger. Why was he already ruining his life? He was doing so good too. He had already tuned Tov and the music out, focusing on his own self mutilation.

The girl glanced over to the boy that sat next to her and she nodded to his instructions, already on it. They turned on the next light and found themselves right on Scott Street. “If you guys want… you can get yourself cleaned up at my place? Eat some pie?”

“Yer offerin’ pie at 4am ta three guys that just ran away from a crime scene?” Ransom asked with a laugh, already a master at pretending not to be aware of private moments. “I mean I’m not gonna say no, an’ I know Tov’s stomach’s empty.”

“He’s not dead, but you beat the everlovin’ fuck outta him with your wrench,” Tov revealed. “He deserved it,” he whispered to his brother, holding his gaze. “Look at her arm.”

Stopping his vicious assault to himself, Chase peered over to see the girl driving. She looked familiar now that he had a good look at her. He noticed her bruised arm, the kind of arm that got held tightly and wasn’t given a choice in the matter. The kind of arm that was a screaming red flag of domestic abuse. The kind of arm that didn’t deserve to be touched like that. “I get it… but still. I have to do better, Ollie. I can’t just keep doing this shit.”

His mind immediately thought of Tiffannie and wanting to be better for her. How would she ever want to date a scum like him? Leaning back in his seat, he reached in his jacket, the same pocket that had his knife and searched for the photo. When he couldn’t find it, he tried to stay calm as he patted the seat. Tiff would get sad if he lost it already. Did he drop it at the gas station? God he hoped not.

His eyes trailed to the ground and there it was, by his feet. He took a deep sigh of relief. Leaning over, he grabbed it and handed it to his brother, “She wants to have lunch with the family. Don’t plan shit for 12.” The picture was of this bubbly blonde dressed in pink making a goofy face with her glossy lips puckered up, her arms wrapped around the awkward serpent, squishing her cheek against his, leaving no space between them. TNT had the shyest of smiles but he looked happy.

“Shit, man,” Tov laughed lightly as he looked at the photo. “She’s adorable. Looks about as soft as you can get.” To anyone else, it may have sounded like a backhanded compliment, but Tov trusted TNT to understand genuine praise when he heard it. Molotov liked the look he saw in his brother’s eyes, both in the photo and while the bloodied man stared at it. Soft is okay when you need it. When you’re nothing but rough, you need someone to show you that you don’t always have to be, someone to guide you into the light and hold your hand while you squint against the foreign sun. This girl looked like sunshine personified and Chase reflected her glow like the moon.

“Tell me about it,” Chase chuckled in response, gingerly taking the photo back and putting it in his wallet. “When we first met, I made her fucking cry.”

“Of course you did,” Tov laughed lightly. “I can’t wait to meet her.”

Before the boys could dive into that conversation, the dynamite of the serpent trio noticed something odd and his eyes widened all of a sudden, “What are we doing at the doctor’s house?”

“I guess I never did introduce myself.” Putting the car in park, the girl gave a charming and prideful grin. Her calculative stare went from Ransom then to the two brothers in a matter of seconds. Though… those seconds felt much longer with how mischievous her eyes were. “I’m Autumn. Autumn Sinclair.”

For the second time this night, Ransom’s face paled. They’d run from the scene of a crime with the Doctor’s daughter. He turned harshly in his seat to stare at Molotov, aware that the private moment was over with the arrival of this new information. His soul brother’s face had likewise drained of all color in surprise, and he looked from Ransom to TNT and then let his eyes land on the house.

“You’re…the Doctor’s daughter,” Ransom laughed humorlessly. “Well shit, okay. At least he can take care’a yer wrist. I’m Ransom, that Molotov ‘n’ TNT in the back,” he gave in to the flow of the night, utterly exhausted with the fast paced chain of events and just wishing they had brought Dutchess along with them, despite how much she bitches when they drink hard. He thought about eating pie in the Doctor’s kitchen and almost giggled hysterically. “Is yer dad home?”

“Oh no. Daddy’s rarely home around this time. But my bro is… and hopefully he’s sleeping.” Hoping out of the car, twirling TNT’s keys around her finger, she waited for the boys expectantly, “There’s two pies calling your names. Trust me, you won’t regret it. Carrie bakes amazing. I’m surprised I’m not fat.”

Chase had visited this house for a variety of deliveries and now that he thought about it, he even visited this house for R2… well, the Doc did have an operation going on for the serpents so maybe it was payment or something. It wasn’t like the Doc was one of them. He was a good guy. He wanted to offer those who couldn’t afford health insurance free care. It was admirable, really. “I fucking did that shit. I saved Doc’s daughter. I need a medal for that. Don't get any luckier than that.”

“Yes you did, we’re very proud. You’re gettin’ pie and an iced face as a reward,” Molotov praised.

“Soooooo… you guys coming?”

“Yeah, yeah we’re comin’,” Ransom answered, throwing the door open and following behind her as the two in the back seat moved to follow. “‘S a nice place,” He commented idly as they arrived at the door, hands stuffed in his pockets.

“I mean yeah, my dad’s a doctor. I’d hope he’d own something decent,” Little did Autumn know her father owned other assets throughout the town. Little did anyone know. After unlocking the door, she tossed her clutch on the console in the hallway, similar to how her mother used to, right in the large porcelain white bowl. Looking over her shoulder, making sure the three stooges were following her, she smiled. Good.

Following the young girl, while being coddled by his brother, TNT observed his surroundings. It was minimalist in decor, modern, and white. Extremely white. It was airy and tranquil, but pretty simple in style. Jeez, even at night this place looked hella’ spacious and bright. Everything was freakishly organized, clean, and clear. Did anyone actually live here? When they reached the kitchen there was a sigh of relief from TNT. Finally some life and color. While still inspired by a clean aesthetic, it was obvious one of the children took over, adding Disney appliances and some. Hell, there was a Mickey Popcorn Machine and a Mickey Waffle Iron. Someone in this house must really like Disney. “Hey Ratatouille hand towels… cute.”

“Yeah, Carrie loves Disney and she spends the most time here so dad kind of lets her do what she wants,” Once she observed the boys for a moment or two she gestured to an archway that led to the living room. “Go through there and take a right. The bathroom should be the last door to the left.”

“Did he just call cartoon rat rags cute?” Ransom asked, flinching when Tov punched him in the arm.

“They are cute,” he replied with a bit of forced cheer as he looked around the kitchen curiously. Tonight’s events had him worn out and ready for a nap, but the promise of putting something sweet into his stomach had him willing to extend the night a little, especially if he could take care of Chase faster than the time it would have taken them to get home. He grabbed his brother’s hand and led him to the bathroom while Ransom stayed behind with Autumn.

While Tov took TNT away to fix him up, Ransom hopped up to sit on an empty part of the counter, feeling like a bull in a china shop as he looked around the clean and organized kitchen. He never understood how people could live in houses that were kept so meticulously clean. Him and Dolce were rarely home, always out running errands, collections, or repos for the Serpents. Their apartment wasn’t messy, but it definitely showed that people actually lived there; there were always a couple dishes in the sink, their carpet was threadbare from years of activity and the curtains hung at an angle from all the times their two pitbulls Loki and Boomer had torn it down while playing. This place seemed…devoid of life aside from the kitchen, which was only saved from the rest of the house’s fate due to the Disney shit. What the fuck even was a Rat-a-twoie?

“So,” He started casually, trying to think of something to say to the girl that got caught up in the whirlwind of the three serpents activity. “Yer a helluva getaway driver.”

“My brother’s better,” Autumn shrugged as she took two pies out of the fridge. “He’s the reason I know how to drive. Our whole mom’s side are gearheads. Live and breathe cars.” Once she placed the two pies on the island, she fetched plates and utensils, “Been to a race before? Whenever we visit my cousin AJ, he always knows where they’re happening. They’re really fun. Niles raced a few a couple of times.”

Returning to Ransom’s side, placing the things she’s gathered down, she pointed to the first pie with a fork, “That’s Banoffee. Some Brit pie. Think - a better version of banana cream but with toffee, coffee, and chocolate. It also has a biscuit base.” From there she gestured to the next pie, “And that’s Mississippi Mud Pie. Chocolate cake, whipped cream, buttery chocolate graham crackers. Both: delicious.”

“Well shit, those look fuckin’ amazin’,” Ransom replied, using his less bloody hand to pick up a fork and go for the more familiar of the two. He could wash his hands later, food was calling him. He’d just taken his first bite when the first part of her response registered and he almost choked on the fork. Covering it up with a small cough, he looked over to the brunette and asked. “Did’ya just say Niles Sinclair has gone drag racin’? Rye’s Niles? Puff’s Niles?”

“There’s a lot about my brother that you don’t know,” Autumn mused as she cut her own piece of pie. “Like the fact that he is a dumbass and still very much into Natalia. I’m assuming that’s Puff, right? I feel like I’ve heard someone say that to her once.” Leaning against the island, she took a piece of the Banoffee and savored it in her mouth. “He was a fucking vandal growing up. He did some stupid shit that he made me swore to never tell dad. When our mom died, a lot changed. Like this house. Used to have a lot more life and color. Like blue. She loved blue. Town seemed to forget she even fucking existed and Niles was in the hospital at least every six months.”

“Autie…” Carolyn peeped her head from the door in her Monsters Inc Sulley shirt and matching shorts. Her eyes widened when she saw a stranger sitting there eating her pie. “Oh sorry! You have company. I’ll just…” She tried to scurry away before Autumn clicked her tongue, which was her way of telling her sister it was okay. That Ransom wasn’t bad. The naive one of the two shuffled with her Mike Wazowski slippers, wondering if she was even appropriately dressed for this boy she did not know, “Hello…” She took a seat across from the boy and began fiddling with her fingers, “Do you like it?” Her eyes went from the pie to him.

Ransom was well aware that the information he just received was not common knowledge. Nothing about tonight was common though, aside from his and Tov’s drinking of course. If you’d told him yesterday that he would be sitting on some counter in bougie Northie at four in the morning, eating pie while talking to the daughters of the Doctor, he would have laughed and told you to fuck off, he wasn’t drunk enough to believe that. Yet here he was, learning things he shouldn’t be and put in the position of conversationalist while his brothers had their moment alone. The innocent blue eyes staring at him, waiting for an answer, had him swallowing nervously as he thought of trying to explain tonight’s events to Dutchess. He was definitely crashing with Tov and TNT tonight.

Absently. He remembered the blood on his hands and in his hair and wondered what it was about the children of the doctors that helped the serpents, that they just act like it’s an every day occurrence to have a bloody man sitting in your kitchen. Rye being that way when they first met, so blase in the face of blood or injury, had been one of the reasons most of the crew became fond of him, as they felt they could relax no matter their banged-up appearances. He got a similar vibe from these two, though their attitudes were completely different.

“Shit’s delicious,” He complimented, keeping his voice steady and thoughts to himself. Unlike her sister, the girl that walked in seemed...softer, more nervous. He shifted uncomfortably from his spot on the counter and looked away from the girl’s gaze. God, he sucked at delicate situations, and despite ignoring his current state the girl still looked like the type that would cry at one wrong word. “I think the last time I had a homemade pie was when my buddy Jokes got bored last year and took a week ta realize he was a shitty chef,” He took another bite and hummed. “Ya shoulda been ‘is teacher.”

“I can be, if he wants!” Carrie’s demeanor changed at the prospect of having something more to look forward to this lovely, long summer. Aside from dance classes with Danny Belmonte, she had already read all her books that were on her summer reading list and she kept up with cheer routines so she wouldn’t forget, since she and her sister would be senior Clovers this coming year. Occasionally, she went and spent time with Autumn and her friends but other than that, she was home most of the time. Baking. Painting. Stitching. Taking naps on the hammock!

There was a moment when Carolyn went in a daze realizing she didn’t have many friends. All her friends were Autumn’s. There was Winnie and Mallorie Phillips-Shomers but even then, Mallorie was busy dating Amaya Patel and a couple years younger than her and Winnie was constantly searching for ways to find herself. Usually that meant sleeping around and spending time with boys that didn’t give a damn about her. Bringing herself back, Carrie’s blank stare lit up once more and she had returned to a beaming smile, “I’d love for this house to have people again! It’s been so long. Maybe you guys could hit it off with Niles? He’s never had many friends.”

“Yeah, all he has is Rye right now. Is he asleep?” Autumn stuffed another piece of pie in her mouth.

“No, he never came home. Probably with Cece.”

“Yeah, shame. I thought giving Natalia an opportunity to sneak in not too long ago would help them rekindle what they had. I guess fucking not,” Autumn grumbled, dropping her fork on her plate. Turning around, she went to get herself a glass of milk, “Do you want some, Ransom?”

“Ransom? That’s your name?” Carrie confusingly blinked. Was that rude? Oh that was definitely rude. “It’s not a bad name! It’s different. Unique. Makes me think of Beauty and the Beast where the furniture people are named literally what they are. Cogsworth the clock. Mrs. Potts the tea pot. Chip the little tea cup with a chip on his rim. Lumière —”

“He gets it, Carrie.”

Ransom did indeed get it, despite having never watched the movie. He nodded to Autumn to indicate that he would appreciate a glass as well before turning his attention back to the suddenly energized girl. He tried not to think about next time he sees Jokes that he'll be bringing up Natalia's little visit to Niles. He didn't want to see that damned kicked puppy look he gets.

"I'll get you an' Jokes connected, you'll be savin' all the Serpents from burned cookies an' dry cakes. He gets in the mood ta try again every once in a while an' we all dread it." He took another bite of the pie, using the amazing flavor to wash away the memories of the monstrosities Jokes would make. The dude really should have stuck with making music instead of food. "While it'd be cool if my parents named me Ransom, that ain't my government name. Rye wasn't the only one that Boa slapped with a street name, him an' Sunshine got a hold of all of us 'fore we could choose our own. They just stuck. Molotov an' TNT are cleanin' up in the bathroom right now," he looked down at his almost empty plate and frowned, looking in the direction of the bathroom door. "Actually, they've been in there for a minute now…"

Molotov sat his little brother on the closed toilet seat and put his hands on either side of his bloodied face, thumbs resting near the broken part of his nose. “So,” He started before setting his nose quickly and without warning and casually carrying on with his sentence. “This girl, this Princess Peach, you been talkin’ to her long?” he asked, turning to rustle around under the sink for the first aid kit. Opening up, he gave an impressed hum at the fully stocked selections and pulled out few alcohol pads, a single use ice pack, a gauze pad and tape, and a few acetaminophen tablets. He set everything but the alcohol swabs on the sink counter before getting to work cleaning up his brother.

“‘Bout a month. I met her that night when buncha’ Boaz’s year was going to the old school’s gym.” The year right under his, Tov’s, and Ransom’s. Still, did it even count if they didn’t graduate? “I had picked her up with the Mayor’s favorite and well, it didn’t end well because I was already pissed and the way they talked pissed me off… Fin gave me a good slap in the head when I told her about it.”

Chase let his brother ‘mother-hen’ him as he sat down on the lid of the toilet. Carefully watching Tov, TNT deeply sighed, “So yeah, I felt like shit and whether it was dumb luck or some kind of fate, she needed a ride the next day. Took her to Dolly’s to apologize. It went… well. It was weird.” He still didn’t understand how their friendship went from that to him talking to her every single day, “Since then she’s like… always there? I don’t know how to explain it.”

Tov knew how to explain it. It had never been something he’d thought Chase would be interested in, but he was secretly ecstatic to see his brother falling for someone. Sure, it was sad as fuck that he couldn’t identify the feeling himself but that didn’t stop him from growing from it. He wasn’t going to bring it up-- he didn’t want to trigger his brother again by telling him that he was falling, and hard, harder than Tov off of the Lyon Park swings after his second bottle of liquor. The thought had his mind wandering to his own experience with a bright blonde at The Afterlife back in June, before the chaos of the letters reached its peak. Or at least its first peak, as he doubted that shit was over. He’d finally felt something too, something other than the insatiable need to drown his history before it could pull him under first. Then he’d lost her, too drunk to remember to ask for her number before she disappeared beneath the strobing lights and he got thrown out. He huffed out a soft laugh as he finished cleaning his brother’s face and grabbed the gauze and tape next, placing it gently over the bridge of TNT’s sluggishly bleeding nose.

“I like how you’ve been with her around,” Tov admitted, taping down each side of gauze before going to work on his busted lip. “I’ve caught you smilin’ a few times, and you seem like you’re here more often, y’know?” he asked. “It’s…been a while. I’m proud’a you.”

Chase didn’t know how to respond to that. Like sorry? Or that’s good, right? So instead he gave his brother an awkward thumbs up acknowledging that he did hear what he said before turning the conversation around, “What about you? When are you going to chill with the bottle? Does it actually make you feel better about yourself?”

Tov hesitated, bloody alcohol pad held aloft in the space between them as he looked to the side in shame, especially when the question itself made him want to grab the nearest bottle. Quietly, he answered, “‘S not about feelin’ better, T, it’s about forgetting what makes me feel like shit in the first place. I don’t like my memories, I wanna live in the moment and forget that everything’s fucked while I got no way to fix it.”

“Just don’t get stuck,” TNT advised, as he thought about Tiffannie and their conversation at the diner. “Don’t want dad to lose another one of us.” Conan wasn’t someone Chase brought up AT ALL but there he was looking at his big brother fiercely, his heart hanging on his neck in the form of a blue guitar pick, as if his little brother was there guiding him to do better. “We deserve to live, you hear? And I don’t mean in the moment. We have a future. We just gotta’ believe we do.”

Tov was frozen as he stared at the guitar pick, unable to look his brother in the eyes while tears sprung to his own. What the hell was happening? Hadn’t he just been trying to be positive for Chase? Wasn’t he the one doing the caring right now? How had his brother matured so much right under his nose? What was he doing that he was missing all of this?

’You know exactly what you’ve been doing,’ he thought to himself sounding too much like his late adoptive mother, Zippo. It reminded him of what she told him the first time he got drunk and Dolce and Shale got him back home. ’Ya always have time ta fix it, but only you can stop yourself. Yer hurtin’ yourself because ya think ya deserve it. You’ve gotta be the one ta decide ya don’t.’

He tossed the bloody swab into the trash bin and rested his arms across Chase’s knees, dropping his forehead across them as he hid his face in his brother’s lap. Unable to hold them back like he’d tried, Tov let the tears fall and soak into TNT’s jeans while he hid his face in shame.

This wasn’t what he wanted. TNT didn’t want to make his brother cry but it looked like he really needed it and ever since he got involved with Peach, well, tears became an everyday occurrence for him. Instead of saying anything, he let his brother use his lap as a tissue and placed his right hand on his head to comfort him. Sometimes silence was the best answer and it looked like they both needed this time together.

It’s been too long.