“Will, seriously, can we take a break?” The voice of Matthew Cashmore rang out through the empty training arena, from his position on the concrete floor, the annoyance in his voice clear as day. He’d been on campus for hardly more than a week, and already his cousin was trying to kill him with training. He’d thought the trainers at Cashmore Manor were tough, but it turns out, Will had become their shining star since he’d gotten to Crystal Peak. Every afternoon since he’d arrived had been spent here, in the training center, getting his ass tossed around like a ragdoll. He was most certainly not loving it.

“That doesn’t sound very Cashmore of you,” Will responded, smirking as he adjusted his stance and prepared for another round. “I told you, these kids aren’t gonna take it easy on you, especially once they hear your last name. I’m doing you a favor.” Will could not have been less fazed. For him, training was as simple as eating, a mandatory part of his routine. In fact, the time he’d been spending with Matthew was easier than any of the training regimens he’d adopted for himself over the last four years. He’d have to get in some extra time to make up for it.

Matthew groaned and picked himself up off the floor, brushing off the shoulders of his training uniform, and putting himself into a fighter’s stance. Fists up, feet squared, mind ready. He could sense his cousin’s thoughts pushing at the edge of his mind, awaiting his call.

“You ready?” Will called out, flexing his fingers in anticipation.

Matthew shook his head. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

And with that, the fight began. Will watched as fifteen Matt’s appeared across the arena, jumping into action. He shook his head. “I told you to come up with a new technique,” he shouted, effortlessly throwing two of the illusions into the wall and watching as it faded back to nothing.

“I did!” Matthew’s voice came from every copy of himself all at once. Will looked around, noting that the Matthews he’d supposedly taken down, were back. “You thought about throwing them into the wall, so I made you think you did. Pretty cool, right?”

Will smirked. He was pleasantly surprised by his cousin’s ingenuity. Of course, it wasn’t going to stop him from winning, but then again, nothing Matthew threw at him would. This exercise wasn’t about letting Matthew win, it was about teaching him how to keep going when you’re completely outmatched.

The Matthews began circling Will, closing in like sharks on a wounded seal. They were identical, in looks, in movement, in technique. The only flaw was that they wouldn’t be able to touch him. This was a trick, meant to make him feel cornered. Oh fuck.

The moment the thought of being trapped crossed his mind, Matthew pulled it out, into the world. The concrete walls of the arena began closing in, forcing him into a very literal corner. The Matthews were gone now, replaced by the box he’d found himself in. A jab took him by surprise, catching him in the side, another came for the back of his head. He couldn’t see Matthew, but Matthew could still see him, and he was taking advantage of it.

Will grunted as a fist connected with his face, bursting through the wall then disappearing as quickly as it came. He shook his head, and cleared his mind, and then, he let it explode outward. Telekinetic force rippled out from him, and the walls that had surrounded him only moments before, flickered and faded as Matthew was sent rolling across the floor. Will clapped as his cousin groaned.

“I fucking hate it when you do that,” Matthew said, picking himself up once more.

“Most people do. Of course, if you had made those walls tangible, it would’ve been a lot harder.”

Matthew rolled his eyes. Sometimes he wondered if Will thought about anything besides getting stronger. “How many times am I gonna have to tell you people, the illusions don’t work like that. They’re just thoughts, I don’t even know what I’m gonna get half the time.”

“That’s ‘cause you’re underestimating yourself.” Will closed the space between them, fixing his cousin with a knowing look. “Trust me, Matt, I’ve seen what illusionists can do. Not to be too cheesy, but belief is half of the equation.”

“If I could, don’t you think I would’ve already?”

Will smiled. “I think, that you are just the tiniest bit afraid of what you can do,” Will said. “That’s normal though. I was scared of myself when I first got here, hell, I think it just means you’re on the right track. You should be cautious with your powers, but you don’t need to be afraid of them.”

Matthew stayed silent. It was easy for Will to say that. Will was perfect. It didn’t matter that he could throw a punch without even lifting a finger, he would never, ever, go bad. It was so far outside of the realm of possibility, Matthew couldn’t even comprehend what that reality looked like. Him though? He was the son of Alexander Cashmore, and maybe the world didn’t know what kind of man he was, but Matthew did. He knew it was the powers that made him that way, and he knew that his own would lead him down the same road. How could they not?

“Same time tomorrow?” Will said. Most days he was so wrapped up in training that social cues were lost on him, but he could tell when Matthew was over a conversation. This was certainly one of those times.

“Do I have a choice?”

“Sure you do. The choice between me, Athena, or Lyss. Who do you prefer?” Will smirked and cocked his head, already well aware of the answer.

“I hate you,” Matthew said, giving his cousin a weak punch to the shoulder before he headed for the showers.

“That’s the spirit!”

---

Matthew emerged from the Training Center, feeling sore and more than a little bit dejected. His first week at Crystal Peak left something to be desired. His closest friend was still his cousin, and people wouldn’t stop looking at him whenever he spoke. The Cashmore name was following him like a plague. Surely, he was not cut out for this.

Whether or not that was true though, he was here, and he didn’t see a way out. If he dropped out, his father would likely disown him, or worse. He’d probably rearrange his brain until he wanted to be here. At least right now he was himself.

Reluctantly, he made his way towards the quad. Matthew was not a social person, in any conception of the term. If he could’ve gotten away with spending the next four years alone, he would’ve leapt at the opportunity. Of course, his family would never allow that. Will and his father weren’t the only Cashmore’s trying to shape him. His sister had decided that he would be joining her band, because Matthew Cashmore didn’t get to make decisions for himself it seemed.

A piece of him wanted to believe that this was a friendly gesture from his sister. If it was Will, he wouldn’t have doubted it. His sister was many things though, and selfless wasn’t one of them. He figured there was something in this for her, and he also figured that she’d be a mythic bitch if he flaked on her. The least he could do is show up and be as unimpressive as usual.

When he’d passed through the Quad on his way to the training center, it had been something of a ghost town, save for the clubs setting up their stands. Now though, it pulsed with life, and thoughts. He could feel the surface thoughts of the crowd bearing down on him, and it took all his self control not to supplant their thoughts into reality. He stood on the outskirts of the crowd, too afraid of himself to let himself be enveloped by the throngs of people. He pulled out his phone and began texting his sister, possibly because he was a good, and honest brother, and possibly because he was a glutton for pain. Who knew?

To: Lyss
there are too many people here. do i have to come to this?

Sylvia’s lithe form sauntered into the Quad with the attitude of a bored celebrity, garnering a few concerned looks from a few passersby. It wasn’t exactly a secret that she had a penchant for being abrasive, as at least a few of peers found out last year. Nothing but her attitude was cheap. And her honesty? Well, that came free.

Her expression glowered as she passed by the first few stalls, silently judging each subject she came across. Chess club? Now, that was for losers. Hiking club? No. That was for idiots that wanted to fall into a ravine and die. Book Club? Yeah, she’d rather die than pick up a book ever again. The Outsiders was the last book she’d read, and Sylvia certainly wasn’t going to be subject to the fictional matters of a greasy kid named Ponyboy ever again.

Huffing away from the disappointing array of options in front of her, her emerald eyes caught a curious, yet not uncommon sight: a fairly attractive blondie floating down from the heavens on the actual wings of an angel. Nonplussed by what Sylvia would describe as “attention-seeking behavior”, the redhead rolled her eyes and strolled over to the girl as she landed.

“What do you think you’re doing, angel girl?” Sylvia asked, her tone slightly annoyed. Her lips started to move again, as if to say more, but then something truly horrible wandered into her eyesight that caused her to stammer. Behind the angel girl, what Sylvia could only describe as a true goblin with messy hair and dressed in overalls walked. Instinctively, one hand from her right hand flew up horizontally to silence the angel girl, if she had decided to talk at all, and her left hand pointed at the newfound goblin.

“Hey, excuse me! Curly Hair! Yeah, you with the overalls! Get over here. I’ve got to have a chat with the two of you.” The redheaded menace called loudly to the cryptid creature. Sylvia couldn’t help but stare. It was very rare that you saw someone dressed so nightmarishly and be unashamed of it. It was basically her civic duty to help this poor lady and to help angel girl understand become less of a show off. Yes, yes! This would be a good start to a new start.

There was a delayed response from Illuria when she found herself staring at the moving crowd, caught in a daze. From when she left her mother’s side to her standing in the center of the quad, deciding where she should go, she lost track of time. She couldn’t remember the last night she caught a decent amount of sleep. Classes kept her blood flowing, all the teachers from the ones that came from Crestview to the ones that have been working at the Academy for years kept her on her toes.

They were all so different and eccentric, especially her Introduction to Psychology teacher, Professor Nikolaevna. She was a weird one and had a tendency to get into random philosophical tangents like her perception of being a bad person. There was Hitler and then there was everyone else. Everyone does bad things, that’s just the way of life, but what defines a bad person, well it’s the one that refuses to lament on the bad shit they do.

Basic psychology was mandatory for freshmen because it prepared you for sophomore year’s class, The Mind of a Villain. Also taught by her. She liked her honestly. Irina Nikolaevna made it seem like the world wasn’t as black and white as they tried so hard to make it. Ria was given a sense of relief that both monsters and ghosts were real. They lived inside of us. In each and every person: in this Quad, at this school, and somewhere far, far away. Sometimes they win, sometimes they don’t but you can’t say a bad attitude isn’t one hell of a drive. Professor Nikolaevna was badass.

When she registered the two girls, Ria looked from side to side to make sure she was the one that the redhead wanted. The stranger’s face said it all: duh, you! Unaware of who any of these girls were, Ria shuffled toward them, hooking her thumbs into her overall pockets. Her body language showed the lack of confidence that she had in social situations. Charisma was something she believed she lacked. And never would obtain. It was hard being a lady.

Hanging her head down, she put one foot in front of the other, counting the steps it took to get to her destination. Even her walk dragged. Ria took tiny steps, avoided making eye contact with anyone and everyone, and had absolutely no swagger. The littlest Crowne struggled to get past the crowd so after a long, tedious minute, she found herself out of the sea of people, united with the girls she didn’t know. “Hello…?”

Meanwhile, Lisette, having just landed in one of the few open spaces amid the crowds of people, was taken aback by a ginger-haired girl with a scowl on her face approaching her and demanding what she was doing here. Immediately self-conscious, and without Alia there to support her, she folded her wings tightly at her back and stood straight, doing her best to avoid showing any signs of embarrassment. Internally, though, she was panicking. Was it the flight? It had been the easiest way to get to the Fair, even if it undoubtedly made folks stare at the white-winged blonde sailing the skies. Wasn’t the first time that had happened, but here... here was different.

“I beg your - hey!” She cut herself off when she found herself talking to a hand. That was just rude. Mama and O-kāsan had made it very clear before packing Lisette off to Crystal Peak that a first impression was everything at a new school, and this girl was certainly giving her one. While she was being pointedly ignored, she turned and craned her neck to look for a familiar face in the throng of students. No sign of anyone she knew... she resigned herself to a lecture from a stranger, but if it was going to be especially harsh, she had a few choice words of her own on the tip of her tongue.

Sylvia beamed at the two shanghaied girls, as if they were her own proteges. Her hands clasped together excitedly, and her focus went to the angel girl first. “Hi! My name is Sylvia Vargas, but you know, I feel like everybody knows that. Anyway. Look, I know how hard it is being new and all, but…” Sylvia waved her hand at the crowd around them. “It’s cool you have wings and all, but I don’t know. Maybe don’t be a show off? Just try to be humble, okay?”

Her visage then turned to the tiny goblin girl, still wearing a maybe too wide of a smile. “And you, my dear… uh… whatever your name is! You can’t wear that. Never. You just can’t ever, ever wear whatever you’re wearing right now. They’ll eat you alive here, okay?”

"I... what do you mean, show off? It was either walk and take far longer, getting lost along the way, or fly from a third floor balcony and know where I'm going." Lisette furrowed her eyebrows, liking this Sylvia girl less and less by the second. First impressions and all. "And what do you mean, she can’t wear that? If it’s comfortable for her, that’s what matters, right?”

“Uh,” Ria was a deer in headlights, looking between the blond and the redhead. This was like one of those bar jokes where three vastly different people find themselves in the same place, at the same time, and are presented with a situation. Rather than acknowledge the diss toward her attire, she muttered, “Vargas? Like… you’re related to Dr. Elise Vargas?” One of the main directors that decides all things hero schooling throughout the world… Vargas. Also the woman her great uncle kept talking about ever since she made a generous donation because of how tragic! There was a fire… Vargas. Illuria wasn’t surprised at the name drop, she simply was reiterating her knowledge from being considered an ‘elite’ family member as well. It was weird, what money and fame could do to a person.

Sylvia’s smile began to wane quickly as neither girl gave her the expected reaction. She was expecting them to be thankful that she was trying to help them, but nope! Angel Girl gave her excuses and tried to be a white knight, and Goblin Girl was over here talking about mom. She winced visibly at the name of Elise Vargas, but tried her very best to remain calm, cool, and collected. Try as she might though, it really wasn’t working. “Okay. So clearly I did something wrong. One, don't ever talk about my mom again, and two, I’m just trying to help the two of you because it’s extremely obvious that neither of you know anything about anything here.” Sylvia took a deep breath and did her best to reset this conversation.

“Let’s try this again. I’m Sylvia Vargas. I don't like when people talk about my parents, so please don’t. May I pretty please make your acquaintances and have your names?” her tone was forced and generally didn’t seem sincere. Sylvia still wore a fake smile, but now it had the afflictions of rage and annoyance.

Illuria glanced over to the ‘Angel Girl’, pursing her lips as she kept silent. She didn’t know if she felt comfortable saying her full name. There weren’t many Illurias that existed in this world, so like, it didn’t feel right to bring it up. She could say her nickname. Maybe that would satisfy the pretentious princess. Still, did she really owe her name to a girl that didn’t like her outfit? She was worried she’d run into the fashion police and here she was, running into the fashion police.

Lisette was just confused. Of course she didn't know anything about Crystal Peak or its people, it was her first week here. She hadn't even finished unpacking her books! ... Okay, there were a lot and she had gotten sidetracked with everything else going on. While Sylvia's request was amenable, her tone was not. She sounded as though she would just get angrier if the conversation continued. If introductions were just going to annoy her even further...

It didn't help that the other girl, the even shyer one than herself, didn't look like she wanted to talk either. What was the best course of action here? She didn’t want to excuse herself on her own, that meant leaving the shy girl alone with Sylvia, and that was almost definitely a recipe for disaster. Would she be comfortable if Lisette steered her away from this angry redhead? Anxiety twisted itself into her guts.

It was a risk. And she decided to take it. "My name is Lisette. I’d love to stay and chat, but my friend and I were thinking about signing up for some clubs together. Please excuse us." It was a classic way to get away from an unwanted conversation, one that Mama had taught her: pretend you have a friend nearby and engage with them. Stepping past Sylvia with a smile of her own, she put an arm around the third girl’s shoulders and began to lead her away from the seemingly irritated redhead, aiming to lose her in the crowds.

Before Ria realized, she was already going back into the fair, without a goodbye they were off. As they walked away, Ria looked over her shoulder at Sylvia, wondering if this would piss her off even more. She didn’t like the idea of having an enemy already at the school. Then again, there was part of her to be relieved to not be in such an awkward conversation. Now, here she was, walking somewhere, or well, being led somewhere with the girl that introduced herself as Lisette. “Maybe she meant well?” Ria’s voice went up an octave, no longer mumbling but still ever so timid. “I’m Illuria, by the way. I’m pretty sure we’re the same year, since we have gym together. It’s hard not to notice someone as pretty as you.”

"Um, thank you..." Lisette couldn’t help but blush a little at the compliment. Then it clicked where she’d seen Illuria before. "Right, of course, I remember you from gym class. That was tough for a first go at it."

She glanced back behind the two of them, just in case Sylvia was following. "I’m sorry for dragging you out of there like that, Illuria. But honestly, that girl talks like she wants to be friends while her actions say, I don’t like you... um, truth be told, I have no idea where we’re going. Just away from her."

“Well you have someone to meet?” Ria tilted her head, curious if Lisette wanted to hang out with her or not. To be honest, she was losing wind already, feeling the day catch up with her. Would it be rude to ditch her and the fair and lie to her mom saying she signed up for the music club or something? That interaction with Sylvia, as short as it was, was a lot. And her mother wanted her to go to the party too.

“Because I promised a boy I’d meet him!” Oh that came out horrible, as if Ria had a love life. Ha, ha… yeah. Funny. Her and a love life. “Whose a friend… a guy, dude. Friend.” Word vomit. This is why she kept to herself. This is why she would ditch the angel girl like they ditched the redhead. Save herself from putting her foot deeper in her mouth. She didn’t even know what friend she was talking about; she didn’t have any. “He said he’d meet me over… over there.” Ria squeaked, her voice getting even louder as she pointed in a direction. And yes, she was pointing at a boy far, far away. Squirming out of Lisette’s arm, Ria cleared her throat, “I’ll, uh, see you later?”

"Oh! Well, if you have someone special to meet, you’d better go." Lisette disengaged as soon as Illuria showed signs of wanting to be out from under her arm. "I’m supposed to be meeting my mentor somewhere... right, yes, hopefully see you soon." She gave Illuria a wave as she stepped away, then pulled her phone from a pocket and texted Alia. I’m at the Fair. There’s way too many people here. Where can I find you?

When Lisette walked away, Ria gave the deepest sigh of relief. She was free. That was the longest five minutes of her life. “Alrighty then,” The brunette gave a shy wave goodbye before going into the random direction she pointed at, choosing it would be best to not look behind her or to the side of her, where Lisette was heading and where Sylvia was left behind. She likely already ruined her chances with both of them as friends so there was no use in dwelling. Onward and upward, her sister, Callie, would say.

There was a strike of panic that shook the redhead when Lisette made it known she was leaving this conversation. A hand feebly reached out, and Sylvia’s feet nearly started to follow the duo as they left, her mouth left agape. “Hey, wait…! I’m -”

Sorry.

There was a glacial feeling that went down her spine and it felt like a gaping void opened up in her chest. Guilt. Loneliness. Things she’d felt time and time again, but was never able to shake their spectral, icy hands. She wished her uncle hadn’t forced her out here because this is what always happened. She wasn’t good at talking to people, and deep down, she knew that. Everyone was pushed away like she was a huge magnetic force field. Why was this so difficult? Sylvia cursed her existence silently and ground her teeth. She had thought she was doing something good, but apparently, she’d ruined everything. Nothing new there.

Running a tense, frustrated hand through her locks, she went the opposite path that Lisette and the Cryptid had and melted back into the crowd. The bored gleam in her eyes was now a vacant one, matte and hollow.

It was gonna be one of those days.

Bright rays of noon sunlight peeked through the curtains of the room’s window and shone directly on the face of a sleeping Noah Cypress. The persistent brightness eventually nudged the young woman awake, rubbing her hungover self off in all the wrong ways. Letting out a loud groan, she threw a lazy arm over her face and rolled over, hoping to settle herself in the center of her bed to continue sleeping. Her movement, however, was stopped short when she collided with a dense figure laying beside her. Frowning, Noah opened her eyes to find herself staring at the broad, tanned back of a male, still fast and deep asleep as confirmed by his deep, rhythmic breathing.

Noah’s frown became more pronounced as she suddenly sat bolt upright, blue-green eyes darting around the room while actively ignoring an incoming headache. No matter how much she rubbed at her eyes and frantically searched around the place hoping for a sign that this was all a dream, all she found was more proof to suggest it wasn’t. The room she was in was very clearly not hers-- as evidenced by the 90’s band posters on the wall, the masculine clothes on the floor underneath her outfit from last night, the stray empty cans of seltzer, the medium-sized enclosure opposite the bed, and the photo on the wall of an annoyed-looking boy squished in between three older-looking girls. As her brain slowly caught up with her wakeful state, fragments of the past night slowly trickled into the young woman's hazy, foggy memory, piecing together the story of what had occured.

It was Karaoke Night at The Foggy Glass. A tall, handsome man with silky locks of dark hair, kind brown eyes and a charming smile approached her stool out of the blue. They had hit it off instantly-- shared drinks, laughter and spent time together being incredibly touchy-feely in a way that could easily get them confused with being a couple. They had left the bar on her bike and gone skinny dipping at Crystal Lake, where things had started to get so frisky they decided to take things back to his place. Heated kisses were exchanged behind the closed door… And now she was unclothed and hungover in this guy’s bed.

Or was it?

“Shit.”

Trying to be as quiet as possible as to not disturb the date whose name she didn’t remember at the moment (all her hazy brain could recall was calling him by an assortment of cutesy pet names like baby, sweetie, boo bear, etc.), Noah slowly slid off the bed and tried to tiptoe to the bathroom. Doing the walk of shame was already going to be humiliating enough, so she figured the least she could do was try to wash away last night’s sins under a jet of warm water.

Warmth, haziness, comfort, mellow thoughts like a fog enveloping the mind. There was existence and yet there was not. Zeke could not remember the last time he slept so comfortably and yet was so lost to his slumber that it was barely a registered thought. He was simply at peace, until a buzzing tickled the back of his mind like an encroaching swarm of cicadas, thoughts suddenly screaming him back into reality.

“Master! Your concubine is attempting to escape your quarters!”

Zeke’s eyes shot open, abruptly and painfully with a sudden sting, a thousand hammers to anvils clashing against his brain simultaneously. Faster than he intended to, his body shot up in an attempt to lay into the annoying arachnid, “Fuck! Noah, what are you on about? Do you have any idea what time it is?” With an exasperated groan he flopped back into the bed, an arm over his eyes.

“Half the day has passed, Master. The sun is at its peak height.”

“Shit, you’re kidding me: it’s already noon?”

“This is what I proclaimed, yes.”

“Don’t you fucking sass me!”

“Master, I do not mean to interrupt, but what of the concubine?”

Sitting back up Zeke went to look towards the cage, “What are you talking about? What concu- oh…” only to be face to face with a hot, naked and shame-faced chick in his room. “Uhhhh…yo, what’s up?”

Noah had successfully made it halfway across the dorm room when the man on the bed suddenly bolted up into a seating position and began yelling at her about what time of day it was and about her 'sassing' him. The redhead had frozen on the spot as soon as she'd heard her name, confusion settling on her face while the guy seemingly had a conversation with her but with himself at the same time. His attention during the one-sided conversation had been directed somewhere behind her, and it freaked her out the longer it went on. She was starting to seriously question her choices from the previous night when her date's attention finally seemed to focus on her.

"Um, why were you yelling at me?" the young woman inquired with no time wasted, frowning at the man in bed. Sharp and straight to the point: just like she was. "I haven't made a sound since I woke up."

“Yelling at you? What are you talking about? I’m talking to the- wait, hold it, back it up. Why are you even in my room?” His eyes suddenly scanned her pale body up and down, “Like…I’m not complaining that there’s a naked girl in my room, but why and how?” As if reality suddenly hit him like a tsunami, so too did the hangover with it, “Shit, my head,” Flashes of the bar and people go through his mind, “Like did we do something last night?” Zeke tried racking his brain to find the answer, but the increasing pounding in his head wasn’t helping at all.

“I apologize, Master, but I regret to inform you that-”

His attention turned fully from the girl as he stared straight at the glass tank, “Dude, Noah, I love you like a brother, but I really don’t need your opinions rattling around in my brain like an 8-ball in the corner pocket.” He rubbed his temples gently, “Can you just…chill out and not talk until at least tonight? Please. Thank you.”

“As you wish.” With that the tarantula scuttled back into his den, dirt and sand kicking up at the entrance.

"See? You just did that thing again!" Noah cried out, clicking her tongue in exasperation while stretching an accusing hand towards the man on the bed whose name she still did not remember. She could feel her fiery temper start to flare up, fueled by her raging hangover. Was he trying to be funny? Play a prank on her? Because whatever it was, it was far from funny, and someone was going to get hurt if it went on any longer. "You started asking me about last night but then said you didn't need my opinions and wanted me to 'not talk until at least tonight' before I could say anything!"

“Noah! I’m talking to Noah, my tarantula. I don’t even know who you are, let alone why you’re in my room.” As if on cue, his memory returned to karaoke night at the bar last night. She was there singing and then there was some…douche. She left with Zeke instead of him. Suddenly remembering the first night sparked the rest of them: all the karaoke nights he’d attended at the bar during freshman year, she was always there, belting out some 80’s rock song like a true rock goddess. “Wait, I do remember you, from the bar…who…are you anyway?” Dumbfounded was probably the most accurate expression on his face right now, but better than pretending she’s a Sam when she’s actually a Megan.

His pet tarantula is called fucking Noah.

The Cypress girl's amused laughter at the absurdity of the situation soon filled the room. What were the odds that she'd meet someone with a pet who shared her first name? "Noah. My name is Noah too," she clarified in between giggles, pointing at herself in the chest while taking the short steps from the middle of the room to sit back down on the bed. Relief washed over her, and she was glad to find out that the start of this conversation was actually a misunderstanding and not her date from last night having some sort of psychiatric breakdown. While some people might have questioned the whole ‘talking to my pet tarantula’ thing, Noah knew to just go with it. Talking to animals wasn’t a power she hadn’t heard of before. "I'm in your room because we left the bar together last night. The specifics are kind of hazy at the moment, but maybe we can figure out what exactly happened together."

Despite the laughter echoing off the plain walls, rattling against his skull, it was oddly infectious and got Zeke cracking up at the weirdness this morning as well, “OH… Yeah, no, that’d confuse the hell out of anyone. Sorry about that.” He scratched the back of his head embarrassedly and took a moment to take her in. Dyed red hair flowing down to the middle of her back, tatted-up pale skin, near amazonian height and remnants of makeup and mascara faded into her beautiful face. She was certainly a sight, though he probably looked no better and realized at that moment he hadn’t even introduced himself. “Oh, uh, my name’s Zeke by the way,” he half turned on the bed to shake her hand, only for the sheet covering his lower half to fall away and expose his full glory to her. “Maybe we can figure this out after we get our clothes on?”

While Noah stood up and pretended to bashfully look away out of respect for her host, the glimpse she'd had at Zeke’s toned arms, chiseled chest and other precious goods had her smirking and mentally patting herself on the back. You go, girlie! Another excellent selection made! Because she didn't feel like going through the trouble of putting on her jeans, bra, tank top, etc, Noah slid on her underwear and looked around for something to borrow. Thankfully, Zeke appeared to be a few inches taller than her, so she was able to fish out a clean flannel shirt long enough to reach her thighs from the nearby pile of clothes, slide it on and button it just enough to keep it from falling off.

Discreetly watching Zeke out of the corner of her eye, Noah waited until he was finished getting dressed before turning around to face him. "There, fully covered and decent!" The young woman declared, occupying the spot she'd previously had on the bed by laying down on her side. "Now let's try to solve the mystery of last night together."

First confusion, then sudden realization as he hopped to his feet and slid on a pair of jeans, deftly latching the belt shut. She had on his clothes now and damn it all if she didn’t pull off the look just right. He found himself staring as she got comfortable on his bed. A few seconds of awkward silence before clearing his throat, “Right, so what happened last night?” He tried to recall the hazy events, “You were at the bar, karaoke night, some guy was trying to hit on you and I don’t think you were into it. I think I…stepped in and said I was your boyfriend?” Shit, that didn’t sound like him and yet…that’s what he remembered. It wasn’t like he was bold or daring-- he did a lot of his mischievous shit in the shadows or the corner of the room where no one bothered you. He remembered doing that, though. She looked pissed and could use a save and something in him just… “I was already about three drinks in at that point and I’m pretty sure you and I only drank more.”

Zeke's words helped the gears in Noah's mind start turning. Flashes of an unattractive, insufferable, kangaroo-looking man who hadn't stopped harassing her since she'd arrived at the bar came to the forefront, as did the urge she'd had to bust his skull open with a beer bottle before Zeke had stepped in like a heaven sent angel. "Right, yeah! You came over to my stool, wrapped your arm around me and asked if I had missed you while kissing the top of my head and calling me 'honeybee'," she said with a small cackle, remembering how she'd jumped at the life jacket Zeke had thrown in her direction. While Noah was perfectly capable of defending herself, she was adventurous and curious enough to follow the man's lead to see where it would take her. "We played a few rounds of pool, danced for a while, had a few more drinks and after I lost at darts you dared me to go skinny dipping at the lake… I think?"

Shit. They had gone swimming, right in the heart of the campus lake. Felt like they got there pretty quick, too. “I feel like we took someone’s bike to get there. Probably not the smartest, but I never claimed to be a smart person.”

"Yeahhhhh, that was my bike," Noah sheepishly admitted with a grimace. "It was pretty reckless of me to do that. I'm sorry," she apologized in earnest. "At least we made it back in one piece, though, right? So since we’re both safe and sound, let’s go back to the story…" she trailed off, feeling like she was missing something they'd done between arriving at the lake and leaping in with a loud shriek and their hands intertwined. "We went to the lake, jumped in, and…?" A faint memory of strawberry and THC smoke nudged her brain in the right direction. "Hold on… didn't we share a blunt and talk a lot of shit before we got high enough to dive in?"

Oh, yeah: they had. And that shit got him zooted, crossfaded; just fucked up. They had sat under a tree and just shot the shit. He’d gone on about how bees were essential to life, how he wished that some people didn’t just blame their shitty attitudes on `Sagittarius’ Mercury’s rings being in retrograde’ or some bull like that. He remembered feeling comfortable around her-- really opening up. Not ‘my sister is dead’ opened up, but pretty damn close to that. “Yeah we did. Shit was real fire, too.” a dumb grin plastered itself on his face, images of shotgunning smoke into each other’s lungs blasting trough his mind.

"Yeah, it was,” Noah agreed with a smile of her own, her mind momentarily on the same thing. She remembered listening to his tirades and hanging on to his every word, attracted by the passion and emotion with which he spoke of the topics and feeling safe and inspired to share more about herself. In return, she’d gone on a rant about her family’s ridiculous expectations for her, how she was pressured into pursuing a hero education under threat of being disinherited, how she felt like she could probably step up to the plate if she really tried but was scared of royally fucking up and being the one to blame for any lives lost… Which were topics she’d only spoken about with her sister and her closest friends.

It wasn’t long after their sensual smoke exchange that the two had jumped in the lake, though he didn’t remember the skinny dipping part. A quick scan of the floor revealed their attire from the previous night was indeed damp, “After that it was pretty cold and I said my dorm wasn’t too far away. We walked here and clearly things happened.” A dour thought crossed his mind as his stomach sank and he looked around the room for an empty wrapper or its used contents, “Might be kind of bad timing, but you’re not on birth control, are you? I…don’t remember if we used a..and if we had sex-”

“You did not consummate your union with the concubine, Master.”

His head whipped around, “I’m sorry, what? You’re saying we didn’t-”

“You were belligerent, loud, and frankly obnoxious, but you both removed your soaked attire and laid yourselves to rest.”

“Oof, fuck that’s a relief, Noah says we didn’t do it…” Initially there was excitement, but then his face soured, “That’s honestly kind of fucking disappointing…what the hell was the point of waking up naked even?”

"Awwww, that's bullshit!" Noah Cypresses lamented, falling backwards on the bed and regretting her decision when her head started throbbing. "We went through all that and we didn't even do anything?!" A part of Noah was indignant that they hadn't sealed their deal. But in all honesty, the other part was relieved they hadn't. She would've found it embarrassing if they had gone all the way after a night like theirs only to not even remember the guy's name the day after. "I'm guessing the clothes went off because we jumped in with them, they were soaked to hell and we weren't going to die of hypothermia or wreck your mattress by sleeping with them on?"

“Her assessment is accurate, Master. I’m impressed: you actually brought one to your abode that possesses an intellect, nor drivels incessantly about tic-toc-toes.”

Zeke shot a quick glare over to the enclosure before returning it back to Noah the human, “Yeah, that sounds about right. I’m just impressed we even thought that far ahead.”

"For real, though,” Noah agreed with a giggle, surprised that they’d been capable of making such an intelligent decision considering all the questionable ones they had made until that point.

The real question for Zeke now was, what next? Sure, they figured out how they got there, but not where they were going. Well, was that even a thought, really? I mean, sure: he helped her out of a bind, and from what he could tell they had fun, but not ‘fun’. So what did that mean? She was pretty-- hell, stunning, even-- and she spent the night naked in his room. Maybe it was time for a vibe check?

“So what now? I mean, we had a good time, even if we don’t fully remember it. Didn’t have sex, but that’s not a bad thing I think.” Zeke sat down on the bed next to her, his weight creaking the springs underneath slightly.

Huh. Looks like she wasn’t the only one thinking that a blackout hookup wouldn’t have been the wisest of choices. "I don’t think so either. I would’ve hated myself if you gave me the best ride of my life and I couldn’t even remember it,” Noah teased with a knowing smirk and a playful laugh.

“Call me crazy, but… I don’t think I’d mind another night like last night. Maybe less alcohol so I remember, but that’s just my opinion.” His head turned to look at her, his eyes raised in questioning anticipation.

Noah’s blue-green eyes lit up with delight. Since her break-up with Damon Day, most of her interactions had been meeting people at the bar, hooking up with them if they were interested and attracted enough to each other, and saying goodbye without a second thought. Going far enough to share deep conversations, spend time together the morning after and make plans for a future date hadn’t been something she’d done in what felt like forever. It was… Pretty exciting, actually. “I wouldn’t mind it either,” she confessed with a gleeful grin. “I haven’t laughed this much or had this much fun in a long while.”

“Right? I know what you mean, and I think we could have more… You heard about that party at Elysium tonight, right?”

"I sure did,” Noah answered, a giddy feeling settling inside of her as she quickly realized where this conversation was going but waiting to see what it would lead to.

“So lemme paint you a picture.” He bounced to his feet and clapped his hands together before laying it all out on her like some powerpoint, while Noah sat up and posed with her fingers intertwined like a CEO about to listen to the world’s most important business proposal. “You, me, your bike, seven o’clock, party it up, dance tonight and then we dance tonight.” He emphasized the last bit with a few swings of his hips from side to side before thrusting forward. “Think you can handle it?”

The Cypress girl tried hard to keep a straight face throughout his demonstration, going as far as to press her lips together tightly to avoid breaking character but ultimately succumbing to a fit of laughter. "I don’t know, those moves of yours seem preeeeeeetty steamy. I don’t know if I’ll be able to control myself around you,” she joked after she’d recovered, batting her eyelashes and biting her lower lip with playful, fake concern.

Zeke laughed and clapped his hands together again before breaking out into another dance, throwing in a few exaggerated hip swings just to be extra ‘cheesy’. He was rewarded with another round of loud laughter from Noah. “Damn girl, if you’re impressed now, you should see the things I’ll do in public.” He spun around and flopped back onto the bed, arms spread out like a bird, “Come on, if nothing else, going out with me is just a guarantee that you won’t get hit on by any other limp dick, shit swizzlers out there.”

Noah raised her eyebrows in amusement. "Because I’m the frail damsel in distress and you’re the intimidating bodyguard that needs to keep her safe from all the big, bad, limped-dicked, shit-swizzling wolves out there?” the redhead teased, laying back down on her side next to Zeke and draping one of her legs over his.

“Actually it’s ‘cause you're a tigress on the hill and all the other big cats want a piece of you. If anything, you’re the intimidating one.” Zeke reciprocated by moving his hand to latch onto hers, “As for me, I’m more of a…fly on the wall if you will.”

"A tigress?” Noah repeated with an amused smile. “I haven’t heard that one before. I’ll give you… Ten brownie points for originality,” she announced with a chuckle. “As for you, though… I guess even the fly on the wall gets all the attention if it buzzes close enough to the predator, right?” the woman asked teasingly, shooting Zeke a complicit wink as she shifted around one more to rest her chest on his and lock their eyes together.

“True,” Zeke smirked, “And yet the tigress hasn’t swatted the fly away, which maybe makes me that she likes him just enough not to eat him alive…yet.” He shifted his eyebrows suggestively.

Noah’s smirk and suggestive eyebrows matched Zeke’s and his energy. It was clear that, just like when they’d first exchanged words back at the bar, they were in sync with one another--and right now, they were both thinking the same thing. The question was, who would make the final move in this game of chess?

"Be careful what you wish for…” she warned in a low, sultry tone, slowly inching her face closer to Zeke’s.

“Careful was almost my middle name, but that’s a lie,” his eyes locked on target, “Too bad this isn’t.” His free hand helped bridge the gap between their lips as he pulled her head towards his. Contact made, sparks flying and bees buzzing, he moved his hand away to let the two catch their breath, “So will I see you tonight?”

The redhead nodded in definitive confirmation. “Absolutely,” she breathed out, staring at Zeke’s face for a moment before locking her lips with his again in another passionate kiss.

“Master, may I remind you that the sun has reached its apex and that you are missing the fair that was scheduled on your yearly curriculum. May I also remind you how much I have expressly shown my detestment for your mating rituals with your concubines.”

As annoying as the tarantula was being, he did make a valid point, as he had completely forgotten about the fair today. He was really enjoying this too, but he had to pull away from it. “Yo, so… there’s that fair today too. Don’t suppose we should at least check that out first? Plus I think my spider has had enough of our shit.”

The fair...

“SHIT!” Noah cried out, bolting upright and away from Zeke. With rising panic, the redhead frantically searched around the room for her purse, found it near Other Noah’s enclosure, and pulled out her cellphone. The battery was almost at the end of its life, and the screen not only read twenty seven minutes past noon, but also alerted her of plenty of missed calls and text messages from the same contact: Little LuLu.

“Shit!” The young woman let out a shriek, resisting the urge to smack her palm against her forehead. “Shitshitshitshitshit!” She quickly began to gather her belongings and zip up her boots while remaining dressed with Zeke’s flannel (her clothes were still damp from the past night’s shenanigans). “I was supposed to meet my little sister at the quad at noon today so we could go to that fair together but I totally forgot about it,” she explained, running her hands through her flaming locks in an attempt to make them presentable.

Suddenly, she remembered a part of their earlier conversation and wanted to scream. “And now I have to walk all the way to the lake to get my bike, which will make me get there even later.” Noah lamented, letting out a frustrated groan. Her custom orange Harley Davidson Fatboy had been a birthday present from her parents earlier that year. If any harm had come to it, she would be heartbroken-- not to mention that her parents would probably cut her off.

Her sudden outburst caught him a bit off guard, but that was probably how she felt when he started freaking out randomly. “Well hey, listen,” Zeke slid off the bed and started sifting through the piles of clothes to find at least a halfway decent shirt and hoodie, “I get it, shit didn’t go the way you expected it to and there’s no use beating yourself up over it. Why don’t I come with you to find your bike? Knowing what we did last night it could take a bit to find it and if nothing else I could always ask the locals if they’ve seen it.”

Just as Zeke spoke, Noah was graced with yet another piece of the last night’s puzzle. “I know where it is!” she declared, grinning in jubilant relief. With the use of her earthly powers, she had left her bike and the matching helmets buried underneath the tree they’d shared the blunt at. Thank God that even under the influence of herbs and alcohol she made some smart decisions. “I can give you a ride to the Academy if you still want to come with me.”

“Fuck it, let’s roll on out,” he grabbed his few belongings, phone, wallet, ‘pen’, essentials and followed the redhead by the hand out his dorm room.

Left alone to silence, Noah Weaver breathed his own sigh of relief. “Finally… Some peace…”

“Are you serious, James? A hundred and ten pounds of blow?” Evelyn Harding leaned up against the wall staring at the bag of coke that her friend and bandmate bought for her and Bex. He placed it on the counter connected to the sinks. Since class was coming to an end, they would have to hurry this exchange before students entered the girls’ bathroom in the Leonardi Building. It was ironic they were about to sniff coke in place of Health and Counseling.

On a daily basis Eve consumed enough alcohol and drugs to sedate most of New York City from Manhattan to Queens for about a month. Xanax helped with the edge, Adderall kept her focus, Quaaludes was a wonderful sleep aid, pot mellowed her out, coke was always a good option to wake her the fuck up, and booze, well, booze simply was a masochistic way of her having big highs and big lows. Her favorite. The gateway that led to her discovering all these other drugs that altered her mind, her emotions, and her life, making her feel superb again.

She, surrounded by Rock & Roll for all her childhood, relied on alcohol more so than any of the other drugs but today, during the day of her party, she wanted to have a little fun. It wasn’t like she started the day off with it. She waited, like the good girl she was, for her classes to finish. Now that it was lunch, it was time to give into the craving and feed her desires. She sure loved this part of her day.

That’s where James comes in. Whenever she needed something more, minus weed because she’d go to Mithra for that, she’d call her dear Speedster and use their code for when she wanted something special. Each drug had a pairing food with it. The best way to communicate in text, honestly, was through code. Whether they talked about classmates or they wanted to get up to something illegal, having a code to deter prying eyes was a good safety net to have. Coke was cinnamon buns.

Mm, I could murder for a cinnamon bun right now.

“I said I needed to wake up. Not lose all feeling in my body and get a heart attack,” Evelyn teased, with her pleasantly smooth, fine red wine voice. It was clear she was a woman who held herself with dignity and confidence, and her presence simply commanded all eyes on her. In addition to that, her body exudes sensuality. Eve was a symbol of sex.

Ravishing hips, tall legs, meat in all the right places, gorgeous strands of raven hair… Eve was the Dark Goddess of Crystal Peak Academy, and absolutely bewitching. She, like her best friend, Bex Crosby, were the embodiment of a goth wet dream. Pierce the veil? One may discover the Raven beauty was phenomenally talented, charmingly authentic, and tragically hollow.

Sadly, the songstress felt like she was endlessly drowning and that all she was, was a shattered mirror of a person. By the time Eve entered the Academy, she was far too lost in her vices — battered, bruised, and broken. Not okay and definitely afraid. All easily hidden behind a smile, though her actions spoke louder than words. Eve was a hot mess. Both figuratively and literally. That doesn’t mean she was a bad person or a bad friend. If anything, Eve was loyal to a fault and protective over those that she chose to keep close. Those she gave pieces of her heart to, like Bex, were her touchstones and when they hurt, she hurt. That’s just how Eve was. She loved hard, to the detriment of herself, but was never one to commit. Friends over romance, any day.

While her best friend and bandmate kept her distance from the drugs on the counter, Bexley Crosby feared no poison. She feared very little, to be honest. She stared at, then hefted up the bag that James had brought into the bathroom, and with her minimal strength, it was more difficult than she hoped it looked. When James said he was bringing a hundred and ten pounds worth of coke, the British national assumed he meant measured that amount of snow in empirical money, not imperial weight.

“James, have I told you lately how much a fuckin’ idjiot you are?”

Granted, Bex had no doubt that Eve would eventually run her way through all that coke. Maybe Bex would help her a little, although cocaine did nothing for the Queen of Goth. Just like most of Eve’s vices. Even looking at the giant brick, knowing what was going to be in store for Eve, Bex had no first-hand experience with it. Same with the fish tanks of alcohol she often saw the lead vocalist go through on any given night. They did nothing but run through the Brit’s system. The only joint drug they could share were the joints themselves, and even then, Bex didn’t enjoy weed all that much. It made her too happy. It was bad for her image.

Cocaine was also hard to do anything with. It didn’t have a direct physical effect like the acids. It didn’t have an immediate toxic effect like the poisons. It didn’t even cause the hallucinations the way the LSD infused spit did. It’s why Bex was fully on board with getting copious tabs from her newer bandmate. But this? This was not inconspicuous. This was not manageable. This brick was going to sit here until Eve was done with it. And then James could deal with it in Bex's mind. This wasn’t her pig, it wasn’t her farm.

Bex shook her head as she moved back over to where Eve leaned against the wall. As she braced herself against the tile, the light blue denim jacket over the modernized black corset top protecting her back from the harsh cold feel of the porcelain, wavy black hair fanned around the back of her head, eyes burnished by dark shadow around them were allowed to dart between James and Eve, and Bex breathed a weary sigh as she finally tilted her head to look over at her best friend. If Eve was the vision of sex, the so-called celebration of life, Bex was the flip-side, a vision of death and that’s the way she liked it.

“Ssso,” she started, with that Bristolian accent of hers tilted by her tongue. “I know you can blow through the lot of that in a good month, eazzy. But there’s no way that’s gettin’ snuck through anywhere with the fuckin’ fair goin’ on. Ssso, ya gettin’ your fix then what? Hidin’ it in the stall? Makin’ James take it right back? I don’t think that the baked goods drawer’s gonna hold aull of it. More likely use it as a fuckin’ ottoman.” Bex said it softly, but if James wanted to hear it, he probably could.

“This sounds like… not my problem,” Eve pushed herself off the wall and went to the brick of snow. For the first time, since her surgery, she revealed her added attachment, courtesy of Abbadon Blackwell. Gradually she extended only one of her augmented claws from her left hand, like a knife and made a slit through the wrapping. Some people didn’t like Abe, not trusting his ethics, others desired his brand, knowing once he graduated he’d take over his father’s company and become a leading figure in weapons and gear development. To those that have had work done on them, especially to Eve’s extent, know his true gifts lie in surgical experimentation.

While she doesn’t know much of his history, she was impressed by how easily he grafted the claws in her skeleton and with his implant system, she can control her bionic arm with her thoughts. He made it so no one saw the slots in between her knuckles, while her arm still looked very much human. At this point, her left arm was part mechanical, since she didn’t have an innate ability to regenerate and heal, so replacing pieces of her was safer than infusing the claws completely in her internal body. With her permission, Abe exceeded her expectations. Her arm wasn’t something she would miss. All she cared about was her voice, and it wasn’t like she couldn’t play the piano anymore either. Abe was smart enough to make her arm function better than the average prosthetic. It was her choice to trade it in, like a celebrity would fix their imperfections with plastic surgery, but in this case it was a high tech body modification. Super cyber. Super punk. That is where the world was heading, after all.

Scooping up a small amount of powder with her claw, looking around 80 mg, a little over an average dose, she brought the tip of it to her nose. Swiftly, she sniffed up the powder and did a line. Blinking a couple times from the hit, and exhaling out, feeling immensely gratified, Eve could feel the numbness already in her throat and tongue. “Fuck, this is great.” Even if James was an idiot, he knew where to get his drugs from. “Easy way to do away with all this coke while it not going to waste is making a profit off of it. Go to the City and sell it. You’d be surprised how many people would jump on this. Hell, you could start here. See if Mithra wants some.”

A scoff could be heard from the Brit in behind. “Listen to you, Miss 80’s drug kingpin,” Bex remarked as she stuck her tongue out, revealing the other work that Abe had done on the East of Eden lineup over the summer. The fork that parted the middle didn’t do anything for Bex’s abilities. It didn’t allow her to spit further, or harder. It just looked cool and blended with her chosen moniker since everyone at Crystal Peak seemed to need one, and that was good enough for the guitarist. It didn’t even cost her any money. Abe just got to keep some of the blood from the procedure, along with a donor’s level dose from the arm. It didn’t melt the test tube when he took it out, so he must have been ready for whatever it contained. She just wasn’t willing to go to the lengths that Eve went to for her upgrades. Not when Bex still didn’t really have a clue how everything about her body worked given the circumstances. Plus Eve didn’t need her arms to sing.

The pessimistic personality that was a defining trait of Miss Crosby was on full display. “Still goin’ to need to get the shit into the city without faculty noticin’ and with everyone out ‘n about today.” She took a long sip of coffee from her custom painted Yeti mug. The stainless steel had been coated in black aside from poison warning signs on either side. Not only did it look badass, it also served as a warning to anyone else trying to steal Bex’s beverage. It was a well known fact that she took her coffee without cream or sugar, but with a healthy dollop of Drano added to the mix. It gave it a rich almond flavor… and killed anyone else who drank it. As she tapped a couple of her silver rings on the side of the metal, Bex was determined to make known her priorities for the day. “Plus, Krista’s in charge of the booth, ‘n as much as I love the babe, she’s gonna let in ssso many fuckin’ sunshine kids, it’s going to harsh my damn mood to no end.” Another sip of poison. “Ssso I’d rather make sure that's not happenin’. I ain’t got time to be playing Sssuzie Snowrunner tryin’ ta move this shit around.”

By the time Bex had finished complaining about his ever so thoughtful gift, and Eve had shown off her new claws, James had snorted three lines off of the tampon dispenser. He hadn’t ever really given much thought to how normies metabolized drugs, but he was pretty sure this would put most people on their ass. His supercharged metabolism would eat through the powder in no time at all. Really, this would just keep him in a good mood until the party.

“Guysguysguysguysguys,” James said, putting his hands up to assuage any lingering fears. His pupils had begun to dilate, growing large enough to eclipse the golden brown of his irises. “Don’t fuckin’ worry about it. I’m basically the fastest man alive, it’ll be fiiiiiiiiiiiine. I got it here alright, didn’t I?” It was unclear if this confidence was brought on by the cocaine, or if it was just James being James. Probably a bit of both, considering he had only found out how much he’d stolen about ten minutes before Eve and Bex did. “Once we’re done I’ll just run it out to the woods, and then I’ll pick it up again after the fair, bag up some leftovers, and sell the rest. Or I could dump it in the lake and get the fish all coked up. That could be kinda cool actually.” James made a mental note to see what cocaine did to fish.

“James…” Evelyn retracted her claw and revealed two big suitcases under the sink counter, grabbing one and throwing it on top of the surface, making a loud thud. Unlocking it, she opened the brief, revealing more bricks. “This. Is. Excessive. Where the hell did you get all of this? I don’t think stashing like fifty bricks in the woods would cut it here. And don’t you dare put it in the lake.”

“Yeah, cokin’ up the town’s drinkin’ water sounds like a bad idea,” Bex affirmed with her best friend. “Also not sure I wanna know where ya got it all.”

“Ugh, you guys are boring,” James groaned, rolling his eyes and rocking back and forth on his heels, before glancing at the suitcases full of contraband. “Okay, truth be told, I kinda just hit and ran. There’s this dude in the city that gets his shipments every couple of weeks, and usually, his suitcases are filled with fun toys that are in turn, filled with cocaine. Let’s be honest, my wet dream. Anyways, I didn’t stop to check, and I guess he cut out the middle man this time around, cause you guys are right. This is an absurd amount of cocaine. Which sucks, cause the toys are really cool.”

While listening to how James obtained his drugs, Evelyn glanced at her wrist watch and decided this was her cue to leave. Closing the suitcase, but leaving it on the sink, Eve went to James, placed her hand on his shoulder and squeezed it, “I’m sure you’ll figure something out. Bex and I have a booth to go to so we’ll see you later. Don’t miss mic check tonight. Kay?” She gave a half smile, with a hint of venom. Eve did not like when bandmates were late for anything band related. You joined East of Eden, it became your life. After their eyes met, her piercing gaze warning him to not do anything dumb, she patted his shoulder before going to Bex’s side — ready to leave.

Bex nodded and pointed two fingers at her eyes then at James. “Don’t be bringin’ this shit round mic check either. Not until the after-party, Speedy. Then you can make it snow like fuckin’ Frosty.” She gave a hard gaze, with full venom applied to the scowl. It’s what she was known for. She turned back to her lead singer. “All roight, let’s go see what victims the Disney Princess has found.”

Walking down the sidewalk from Leonardi to the quad, Evelyn looked up toward the sky to see a student flying conspicuously in the air for the whole school to see. She didn’t look familiar so Eve assumed she was a freshman. That or a Crestview student who Eve hadn’t familiarized herself with. While Eve had more bounce to her step and felt excited about her day, it barely showed on her face. She was more animated than usual but she still had an image to uphold. That was being genuinely unapproachable, disappointed at most things, and foreboding. The difference of her being in the bathroom from now was all eyes were on her. At least in the bathroom it was just her, Bex, and James. In the public eye, she was Eve from East of Eden.

If anything, the one thing she did love about coke was how it increased her sex drive. Maybe she could phone a friend before tonight. Not Bex. She wanted to try someone new. “What songs should we do?” Eve had been so caught up with herself (having been drinking more and more each day) that she didn’t decide on their set list. Good thing she had Bex. She was there when Eve couldn’t focus. The perfect balance. Her better half. At least in terms of music. Oh, and friendship, of course, but music was far more important.

Bex was brought back to the quad with Eve’s question. She was a little distracted trying to think about what the hell James was going to end up doing with all that cocaine. At least she didn’t have to think about her presence. Everyone at Crystal Peak knew who she was at this point. Even if they didn’t know her for the exact reason she was admitted to the school instead of sent to Crestview, they knew her aura. Her personality. She may dress in more black than anyone should be able to stomach during waning summer months, but everyone knew it flashed more warnings than the poison tree frogs in the Amazon. Stay out of Bex's way and you don't get burned. Even when she’s on duty at the Foggy Glass, she has enough sway with Issac to be allowed to behave in a way she sees proper, so newbies who can’t handle their liquor get a look at true fear.

But she wasn’t thinking about bartending now. They had a show to plan. They had to show all the new kiddos who the queens and kings of Crystal Peak were. Not the Wardens with their puffed chests and powdered wigs and Bex was just thinking about barristers now but they were still annoying. No, it was EoE who were going to crown the next class, and to make sure the frosh knew that fact, they had to start with a proper progression of songs.

“I think we want to start slow,” Bex finally confirmed. “We’re not gonna be sure how many are pre-gamin’ before the show starts, so I think we let Krista take the lead there, some of our string-heavy shit, like Dark Side of the Sun, Magical Girl, that cover of Blank Space, shit like that. Then we start rampin’ up, play our more solid tracks, Speed Demon, Rule of Cash, Broken Sticks, before we hit ‘em with the big finale. We do Embrace the Venom, I lead my shit, and then you light things up with Queen of Thorns and the place comes down. They want an encore, we can go No Fears and When We Sleep.”

The two really were the heart of the band, but while Eve was the face, Bex was clearly the brains. It was nice to actually care about shit that actually mattered. Bex and Eve handled a lot of the songwriting, but everyone contributed something, some kind of idea, and the dark-haired Brit had everything in their arsenal memorized for moments like this.

Bex took a long sip of her drain cleaner coffee in triumph and turned to her partner-in-crime. “And then after that, the after-party is a buffet for you ‘n me. Savvy?” They had enough time together in the first week after they both got back from their respective internships to catch up and show off some new knowledge. Tonight was going to be about spreading out and finding those other options. Especially with the Crestview kids now being integrated into things. The Foggy Glass was going to be full tonight. All they had to do was find the right way to wet their respective whistles.

“Savvy, baby,” Evelyn purred as they went deeper and deeper into the quad. “When We Sleep would be the perfect way to end the night. It’s the one song that showcases all our skills so naturally.” Like an innate path programmed in her brain, they found themselves passing the chess club and sauntering their way to the music booth, “It’s my favorite, honestly.”

Instead of saying hi to her other bandmates, Krista and Shep, and EoE’s shadow member, Sasha, she commented on the glaringly obvious missing piece to this picture with a simple: “Hm.” She knew where James was, and it wouldn’t take him long to deal with the contraband. It also wouldn’t take him long to come skipping to the band high on ‘life’ (assuming he didn’t have other plans). But where was Zak?

He knew how much she hated his tardiness, which was turning out to be a frequent thing ever since he started rooming with his boys. For James, that was something she expected, but for Zachary? He knew better. Evelyn had a low tolerance for him slacking. She had a low tolerance for a lot of things Zak did, and yet he was still the best drummer she could ask for. How unfortunate.

Evelyn didn’t say anything. Her penetrating and steady gaze surveyed the others, harsh as always when in the public eye, and she gave them a nod of acknowledgement. Bringing her attention to the sign up sheets, she placed her black matte nails on the clipboard she cared about and firmly asked, “Any prospects this year?” The band did know she was seeking variety. She would prefer finding someone that could play the keyboard so she could focus on singing, only occasionally playing the piano, and she would love a bassist. The bassist didn’t even have to play a bass guitar. There were quite a few instruments that could be an alt bass option and would make EoE look more aesthetically pleasing than the band already was. There were ideals Eve had in mind but little faith in some of the supposed talent that came walking into this school. No matter, she could and would try this thing called optimism. She owed it to the infectious happy disease that was Krista. She did the most sometimes. Okay, plenty of times. Krista was the best of them and Eve didn’t know what she did to deserve a girl like that in her band, but she was grateful. She would never admit it, of course, but she was.

Bexley grabbed one of the available metal chairs and plunked herself down next to the members of the band that were now going to be relieved of booth duties. East of Eden may have started as just a passion project for herself and Eve, but it had become so much more than that, and all of these people played their part. Krista was the first member they recruited. Well, after Brad Parker on the drums, but Brad didn't count. He was a filler. Krista, with her technically sound German stylings that seemed so at odds with her sunny personality, she made sure that even despite the lead ladies' nihilistic views, there was still a flicker of light in the band. Shepard, her fellow British bastard, the one who was able to break her of the intense distrust of any male figure, the sharpened edge that matched the side of the blade she provided. And the unofficial member, Sasha, who had pinch-hit for so many members during various nights of excess homework (Krista, James, Zak), early-evening benders (Eve), or just plain lack of give-a-fuck (Bex). Sasha could be anyone in the band, although even with the practice, they still weren't quite on Bex's level when it came to poison manipulation. However, Sasha was probably the best friend Bex had in that trio, with their similar hopes and desires and ability to withstand ingested punishment. They hadn't had a chance to really catch up since they got back from their respective internships, so that was something they had to catch up on. Hopefully with them in their femme form. Shockingly, there was a huge preference for which form Bex preferred, but with them both being members of the LGBTQ community, there was that added layer of kinship that made their bond pretty tight.

Seeing those people all manning the booth, it's why Bex was willing to put in the amount of effort she did in keeping the band at the pinnacle of the Crystal Peak scene, memorizing all songs and parts so Eve didn't have to handle most of it. But it wasn't going to be enough to change her night-like disposition. "Better not be any more percussion players," she commented as she rested her feet on the table. "One is more than enough. Besides, it's been a rough summer being all split up. We don't need to be addin' in more instruments right now and muckin' up tonight's show with too much stuff n' shit to think about."

On one side of the Arena, a CrossFit class was being held. Damon was showing a demonstration of a tire flip. Start off strong, make sure as you underhand grip, that your hands are placed on the treads. And lastly, power. Power is key. Drive up through your hips. Don’t use your back. This is a compound movement, a total-body workout. Build those muscles and get some cardio in too. When he watched the smaller people follow his lead, he nodded and moved to another group that looked exceedingly more fit. Walking past them, he went to the arch, gesturing for the few to follow him. He led them to a group of large boulders. They were regulars so they didn’t need a lesson and went straight to using their muscles to push the giant rocks.

Instructor Bishop Hardy leaned on the coliseum bench, beside his coworkers, Rebecca Morgan, Perseus “Perry” Creeden, and a restless member of the Academy, who wasn’t part of the Department of Discipline & Management, Eliana Crowne, Lovelace, or whatever the fuck. He sipped earl grey tea out of a paper cup. This was the start of his morning, supervising the CrossFit class. As for the rest of them, well, it was becoming a weird tradition for the gym teachers to sit here and drink their tea, coffee, and coffee spiked with booze (looking at you Perry). Eliana was a surprising addition this morning, but nevertheless welcomed by the Crestview staff members.

“Can’t stand this whole goddamn agenda you’s got going on,” Hardy glanced over at Eliana who was sitting two people away from him, “By you’s I mean your fucking family and all them special lineage motherfuckers. If people knew half the shit we knew. Fucking diabolical. Supes over here giving people false hope, and you’s over here enabling that mentality, making powerless pricks depend on the broken system. Don’t say you’s don’t think it’s broken either, Crowne. I see it. In your eyes. You know.”

“It really is too early for this, Bishop. Like goddamn. I don’t come here to talk about philosophy or conspiracy or shitty people. I come here to drink coffee and wake the fuck up. Oh Becs, I love that top, who are you wearing?” The Crisis Manager and teacher of all things Crisis and Disaster related, took a sip of his coffee only to grimace and mumble, “Not enough whiskey.”

“Oh, this?” Rebecca Morgan looked down at her top, a flowing, black, silk blouse. “It’s a gift from the hero days. Donatella was a big Aurora fan,” she said, sipping from her own coffee.

With her arms crossed, she listened to the two Crestview teachers in silence, while watching two girls on the other side of the arena, sparring. Eliana didn’t sleep the following night. She couldn’t stop playing back the night Crestview College burned to the ground. How unsettling it all was and felt. This wouldn’t be the first time something in Crystal Peak went down in flames and unfortunately for her, she was part of that fire too. Was this simply PTSD or was it something more? “I wouldn’t say I’m enabling anything, Instructor—”

“Bishop. None of that title shit.”

“—Bishop. I can only speak for myself. All I can do is prepare these kids for the world they’re getting thrown into, to the best of my capabilities. No one, not even you, can dismantle years of history.”

“She has her points, Bishop,” Rebecca said, eyes still trained on the students below them. “We can’t raise the next generation to be a bunch of anarchists like you. Where would we be then?” She smiled and turned to Eliana. “I take it Illuria is settling in well?”

“As much as she can for her first week. Please do challenge her differently than the rest of her year.” Eliana uncrossed her arms and reached for her phone in her purse, having felt a vibration by her foot. “With her exercise intolerance and insomnia, I do worry she’s going to pass out one of these days.” Grabbing her phone, she saw the notification of her uncle’s email to the student body. Quickly peering over it, the Dean's letter was rewarded with an eye roll. Placing her phone back into her purse, she returned her attention to Rebecca, “My biggest concern with her is her outbursts when she feels cornered. Her heart can’t handle that.”

“Fucking Christ,” Bishop listened to Eliana explain her daughter’s conditions and took another swig of his tea. “Lots of issues on that one if she ever gonna’ break into the industry.”

After downing his coffee, finishing it with ease, Perry clicked his tongue and dramatically proclaimed, “Speaking of issues!” The trauma man, the grief counselor, the one that has a degree in emergency and disaster management, the sponge for all things fucking tragic, Perry gestured to the two girls sparring. Phoebe Masterson and Brenna Lancaster. “Those two seem to be keeping their head above water. The fire really did paint them out to be the bad guys. Sad. They’re smart girls.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about them too much, Perry,” Rebecca said, smiling as Brenna and Phoebe traded blows. “Those two have never had an issue when it came to keeping up with the class, and I imagine they’ve grown used to some nasty looks.” Rebecca felt an attachment to all her students, but Brenna and Phoebe held a special place in her book. They reminded her quite a bit of herself at that age; strong willed and independent, with more than a few chips on either shoulder. “They have work to do, but I’m confident in both of their abilities, especially Phoebe’s. Who knows, if things continue as planned, this year’s graduating class could be the strongest in years.” Becca took another sip of her coffee. “Although, since when has anything in our lives proceeded as planned?”

If you’re fighting for your life, there are no rules. Brenna Lancaster was a master at that but when facing Phoebe, her endurance could not compete no matter how many low blows she tried to attempt. “Come on, don’t half ass,” Phoebe pulled back with her bo staff, rotating it around her hands and then swiftly spinning it, passing it from one hand to the other behind her back.

While this wasn’t Brenna’s preferred method of fighting, nor her first rodeo with her friend, Phoebe knew it would help the Ice Queen’s body overall. It wasn’t about who finished the obstacle course first. No, it was to see who could finish the combo first and with the staff, it was devastatingly quick in the right hands. Incredibly mobile, switching from high/low to low/high in a few simple motions, and when the sparring really got going, you could hear it whizzing in the air.

Still, it wasn’t about the fight. Brenna was too offensive at times. This was about defensive fighting, especially when you were at harm’s way, which Brenna wasn’t usually. Not really. She had the safety net of distance usually at her side. The best form of attack was defense. If there ever came a time when their powers suddenly disappeared, would Brenna be able to protect herself? That’s what Phoebe Masterson cared about.

To Phoebe, if you can master a stick, you can master other weapons easily, it simply depends on the amount of endurance you’ve built over time to wield it. Sure more archaic weapons and not guns, but relying heavily on the growing technology of the world would limit your potential. One should still learn how to use a gun, but if you didn’t have one and were left with just yourself, what would you do? How would you survey your environment? Could you take down the stronger opponent?

At least through this training, she could teach Brenna to use all her force, again and again and again, and drive past resistance when her arms wanted to fall off. Any idiot can swing a staff, but a trained warrior struck with intention and never wasted a step. Phoebe didn’t expect Brenna to become a staff wielder when her friend alone was a weapon herself, what she did expect was for Brenna to build up her technical aptitude so her ice complimented her. Powers were just that. An accessory to who you were. Martial arts was all about balance.

Poor footwork, bad stances, weak base.

Brenna was better than that. She was a queen, who fought alone, just like her, and they needed no one to make the world shake. As quick as Brenna charged at her, she was back on the floor with a quick leg swipe, while forcing her friend back with the bo. “Okay, no more stick,” Phoebe threw it to the side and offered her hand to Brenna, looking at her with a smirk on her face.

Phoebe was right. Brenna was better than that.

Brenna flashed a grin at one of the few people she called friend. “If you say so,” she said in between breaths, before gripping Phoebe’s hand with her right and yanking her towards the ground, while her left wrapped around Phoebe’s shoulder and shoved her towards the concrete, trading places with the older girl. Suddenly, the tables had turned, and Brenna was now straddling Phoebe’s back. “I do prefer it this way,” Brenna taunted.

The ice queen leapt up, stepping back in preparation for Phoebe’s own assault. Her arms burned and her legs screamed, but her face wore a smirk that she rarely graced others with. Good humor was hardly her strong suit. Nevertheless, this fight had her thrilled. It wasn’t that Brenna lived to train, but she did live to win, and right now, victory felt close enough to taste.

While Brenna was aiming to defeat her opponent, Phoebe wanted to overcome herself and all her limitations. One of her limitations was going too easy on her best friend. Like the element she learned to master, Phoebe became an accelerating burning inferno (metaphorically speaking) and quickly advanced toward Brenna. She lept in the air and went in for a full force kick and by seconds, Brenna dodged it and that’s when the fun began.

With whirling circular blocks, quickness, and aggressive strikes from both her fists and legs, Phoebe showed no mercy toward her friend, which she knew she’d return the favor. And Brenna did, matching her energy and getting plenty of hits in return. Phoebe preferred this type of fighting, without powers. It brought out the best or worst in people. She liked to size her challenger up with how their body handled its environment. How their mind dealt with constant pressure hitting them. Over and over again. And how the person tried to overtake her.

Truth be told, she was best with her takedown defense, grappling and apprehending, and the greatest thing about martial arts was it taught you humility fast. But this wasn’t about winning, this was about tiring Brenna out. To see who would be the last one standing in the end. So, Phoebe would hold off on her strong suit, keeping herself in motion.

Deadly serious, the Queen of Ashes showed her friend why combat fighting was not something to help her win, it was part of who she was. The very breath she breathed. Without her gifted eye, all Phoebe would have was herself and that is why the scale would be unbalanced between them and have a higher chance tipping in Phoebe’s favor. This was more than just a training session for her. This was her life.

Brenna Lancaster was not one to give up. Even as she and Phoebe traded blows, she kept coming back for more, desperate to prove herself. To Phoebe, to the teachers watching, to the whole fucking gym. Brenna wanted everyone here to remember exactly who she was.

As the two continued sparring, Professor Morgan and her colleagues kept their vantage point, watchful eyes looking down on the various matchups. She leaned over to Eliana, smirking ever so slightly. “One thing you all should know about Crestview kids: they don’t go down easy,” Rebecca said, a touch of pride in her tone.

And they didn’t. Five minutes turned into ten which eventually turned into twenty. They were drawing a crowd, even getting Damon to stop and watch. The dedication in these girls was admirable. If only more students were like this. Then again, a hero also needed to know their limits, which it seemed neither girls did. Or if they did, they were stubbornly trying to surpass them.

As lovely as their fighting was to watch, it was almost approaching seven which meant soon kids would start trickling in for the early morning gym class. “Okay. They had their fun, now it’s time for them to get out of my arena,” Bishop was quick to stand up, ready to restrain them apart, knowing how stubborn they could be.

Instead, Eliana stopped him by raising her hand and smiled, “I can take care of it.” Rising up from the bench, she turned to the Crestview team and concluded, “Thank you. This was fun, and it’s amazing to see your students at work. I hope they like me!”

“Oh Ellie, you’re one of the more bearable Academy teachers. I’m sure you’ll do just fine in the popularity contest. You might not get catcalled like your sister, but you care and that’s all these students need. Someone that cares,” Perry waved at the science professor, simultaneously bringing his drink to his lips. After a few more exchange words between teachers, Eliana was making her way to the arena, to the girls that were sparring.

As she watched them go at it, she took in every motion they made, every breath they took, and every wince of pain they showed from getting hit by their comrade. For most teachers, this would be hard to keep up with but for Eliana she could see this playing out and even knew how it ended, if no one cut in. She knew who would win, and how they would. Her perception, her adaptive mind, and her ability to sync her actions in time with other’s made her one of the harder Crownes to take down. Reality was, rarely was Eliana surprised and when she was, they were usually out of her control and out of the hands of time. Not even the Timekeeper could keep track of everything because some things simply ignored time. Man alone measures time. Man alone chimes the hour. And because of that, it’s men that fear their own internal clock, running out.

“Excuse me,” Eliana cleared her voice, trying to get Phoebe and Brenna’s attention. After another minute, she realized neither girl was paying attention to their surroundings. They had been fighting for so long that they no longer were fighting as well as they could, because even heroes tire out. Stepping into the line of fire, knowing exactly where the two girls would hit, Eliana crossed her arms and waited for their blows to go into her, or to see if they were smart enough to pull back.

Phoebe was the first one to notice the teacher and stopped her fist from going straight into Eliana’s face. Phoebe was surprised with how nonchalant and unexpressive the science teacher was, as if she knew neither would get a blow in even if they tried.

Whether or not Brenna could’ve stopped herself is something only Brenna will ever know. Her fist continued on its course, a jab meant for the stomach though it found only air. As quickly as Eliana had appeared, she had dodged Brenna’s attack, effortlessly throwing the girl off balance. Brenna, unprepared for the lack of connection, stumbled forward, just barely managing to keep her feet under her. Breathing heavy, Brenna straightened herself and brushed off her clothes, quickly reverting from a warrior to a queen.

“Where I’m from, Professor Lovelace, you don’t interrupt a fight unless you intend to join,” Brenna said, coyly toeing the line between playful and churlish.

“That’s cute,” Eliana politely smiled at the Ice Queen, who was as unoriginal as they came, committing to the stereotype. “Where I work, students can fight in the presence of a teacher and seeing how it’s almost,” She glanced at her wrist watch then back at Brenna, “Quarter after seven, your instructors will be going about their day, as should you. You’re more than welcome to sign up for another session. But for now, it’s time to go.” With her hands clasped together, Mrs. Lovelace surveyed both girls, waiting expectantly.

“Yes ma’am. Sorry… we got carried away,” Phoebe answered first, in hopes that Brenna did not sass out their Physics teacher. Knowing her friend, Brenna always wanted to have the last word. Sometimes, she caused more problems than not.

“No need to apologize! I have nothing against that. If anything it shows your dedication. But I’m just doing my job and Bishop needs his arena.”

“We’ll get out of your hair then,” Brenna said. Phoebe’s answer had called her to heel. Whatever indignation she might feel towards her professor, she shoved it aside for the moment, and played the part of the prim and proper girl that so many expected her to be.

The two girls stepped out of the ring, Brenna following Phoebe’s lead as they headed for the showers. “I don’t think I like her that much,” Brenna muttered to Phoebe. This couldn’t have been much of a surprise. There were very few people Brenna did like, and very few of them were people with any authority over her.

“Well you don’t need to like her, but you do need to pass her class,” Phoebe teased before hooking her sore and sweaty arm around Bre’s. “I’m proud of you. For a second, I thought you were going to spank me, but then I was like nah, the only person you’ll spank is your boytoy.”

Brenna smiled and shrugged. “Sometime’s he needs it.”

The girls followed up their showers with breakfast and books. One week at Crystal Peak had already earned them more assignments than free time. They had holed up inside the cafe, coffee and pastries scattered around textbooks and notes. Admittedly, they would’ve been further along in their work, but Brenna had spent the last thirty minutes ranting about her boytoy.

“It’s just like, what the fuck is ‘im busy’ supposed to mean? He’s busy? I’m fucking busy. You’re fucking busy. He’s just infuriating,” Brenna said, shaking her head as she began packing up her things. Regardless of how she might be expressing herself, it was obvious to most that she would be over this bump in the road sooner rather than later. Sometimes, the ice queen just liked to storm about. “Fuck him though, let’s go play nice with the silver spooners. I want to beat Cashmore at her own game.”

Phoebe sometimes wondered why Brenna wasted her energy on Blackwell. While Abe was brilliant, probably too much for his own good, he wasn’t the best when it came to romantic emotions and communication, let alone transferring his attention on anyone else that wasn’t himself, and his work. Then again, Pheebs didn’t know him like Brenna did. Maybe somewhere deep down, he cared for her friend as a lover. Why else would Bre date him? Unless he was good in another department but ew, Phoebe didn’t need to vomit right now.

“You like what you have with Athena?” Phoebe closed up her books, one being a leather journal for personal use. In this journal she had her thoughts and scribbles on the occult, with a section dedicated to her analysis on a couple of students that piqued her interest. When all her things were gathered, she turned her head sensing a familiar presence. A white raven. As she left the table behind, she lifted her wrist up for Milky “MK” Way to land on her. When MK settled herself, Pheebs gestured with her head for the bird to climb up her arm and rest on her shoulder.

“She’s a challenge, at least. She’s smarter than the rest of ‘em. Don’t know how smart it is to trust a telepath though,” Brenna said, moving her face with a practiced and perfected coolness. Brenna would’ve been lying if she said Athena didn’t intrigue her, but there were no lies between her and Phoebe.

With a simple conversation through their eyes, Phoebe mentally asked for MK to hold her thoughts, likely the latest gossip of Crystal Peak, before bringing her attention back to Bre and earnestly admitting, “I feel like you’re going to find your place here before me.” Douglas and Brenna got the soft version of Phoebe, they earned it. If there was one person that always had her bitchmode on, it was Brenna, she was the Ice Queen after all. With Phoebe, she only needed to activate her raging inferno when she was protecting something she believed in or those she loved. Those she felt responsible for. Other than that? People simply didn’t like approaching her in the halls. People didn’t trust her easily.

Maybe she was unapproachable, or maybe she gave off an energy that was foreboding. Dangerous. Maybe she was feared because people thought they’d get burned. Regardless of what it was, Pheebs knew this transition wouldn’t be easy. It took her most of her underclassmen years to get people to trust her at Crestview. Now it felt like she was back at square one, trying to regain trust, all because a rumor painted her to be the bad guy.

To be honest, for someone who usually carried herself with confidence, determination, and strength, Phoebe’s tone showed her buried anxiety. Would she be able to keep it together? Or would she be ripped apart at the seams? Even strong people needed support from time to time. After having sat in a conference room, with people she barely knew deciding her fate, and a science professor protecting her honor — the same science teacher that came in between her and Bre from sparring — Phoebe wondered if this was even worth it. Would she have enough energy to finish this school year? Was all this pain, suffering, and endless struggle going to amount to anything?

Her life was full of hardships and she wanted to keep going, she desperately needed to, but she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t tired. In addition to her exhaustion, the constant migraines, the sudden wash of negative energy, like depression but not really, and the endless thoughts from her hyperactive brain did not help. Phoebe knew where the moments of immense negativity came from, and it wasn’t from her, it was from the thing resting in her eye. She also knew at this point, her intelligence came with a price of never being satisfied, which meant she would compromise sleep if it meant she’d discover something new.

Her need to know surpassed every logical thought in her brain that told her to take care of herself. She hated it and yet she couldn’t stop. This was how she’s always been. This is how she’s survived this long. Still, Phoebe Masterson hoped her mind was playing games with her and that this new year wouldn’t be that stressful. That this year would actually be fun. She hoped, for once, she could catch a break or at least have something to look forward to. Instead, she played her role, as a leading figure at Crestview College, and continued to aim for the stars. That’s all she could do while so many people looked down on her. Aim for the stars. She had no other choice than to go high. If she didn’t, what would the board do to all these kids they did not believe in? What would the world do if she didn’t break this generational problem of people being treated less than because a piece of paper, or their family’s history deemed them unfit? What would happen if she didn’t fight?

Nothing.

Nothing would happen.

And that’s where the problem lies. That’s what she hated the most. That’s why she has to fight.