“I like shooting things.”

Why did that sentence alone frighten Marco? Not in the way that made him not want to keep this new budding friendship he was starting to develop with Poppy -- no, definitely not in that way, but rather his unexplainable curiosity. Like he actually wanted to know what she meant by that. Was it an actual gun? Or maybe it was about video games? Poppy didn’t strike him as the type that would be into that sort of thing, not like Lolly was, anyway. But then again, he didn’t think she really paid attention to his Rock Lee presentation back in high school nor had the same dorky personality he had, so maybe there was a lot about Penolepe James that Marco didn’t know yet.

Once they finished up eating, Marco offered to pay. Seemed like Poppy was against it. They had a bit of a back and forth. Marco was pretty adamant to pay for it all, but Poppy was equally so. After about a minute of passionate debating, they agreed to split it. Marco paid for what he ordered, Poppy paid for what she ordered, but Marco insisted she let him handle the tip, which of course was twenty-five percent. As a service worker himself, though in a very different way than what The Hole was, Marco knew just how important tips were. He didn’t get them, but he refused to undertip. Overtipping was probably a bad habit of his, but it didn’t matter: the deed was done.

The time spent sitting down had done wonders to Marco’s leg because it wasn’t hurting as much when they left the Hole. It wasn’t a long trek from it to Swerve Arcana. Or at least, it wasn’t a long trek going into Westwood. Marco had taken the journey from his house on Scott Street to his oasis outside of his gaming PC setup, especially since he has been slowly but surely getting into better shape so many times that he had the right rhythm down to an artform that caused him minimal pain. He was just thankful that Poppy didn’t mind the slower pace.

Even before they stepped inside, Marco could hear the sounds that filled his heart with such a glee that he smiled at Poppy. “Get ready to have your world blown!” He excitedly muttered, walking at a quicker pace, which probably was normal speed for those who weren’t a literal limping man. When he opened the doors, all the familiar sounds that made him so happy showed in his beaming smile. The first person Marco saw was Avery and he nodded towards her. “Hey Avery! How’s it?”

Avery, as always, was reading something. This time she was scrolling on her phone down an article about the blockbuster film, Divided We Stand, which tied with Avengers: End Game for highest grossing film. She couldn’t wait for the next movie, seeing how this one ended on a cliffhanger and everything was going to shit. No spoilers, of course. When she heard a familiar face call her name, she placed her phone screen down on the counter and glanced up at Marco. Her eyes didn’t stay on him for too long when, to her surprise, she saw who he was with. Officer James’ little girl, Penelope James.

This required her full and undivided attention. “Hey homie,” she bobbed her head in greeting. Since it was late in the day, she really did not give a fuck, so Avery Kaine stepped a little back to give herself momentum.

3… 2…. 1!

Rolling over the counter, like the fool she was, reckless and wild, until she not so gracefully landed on her feet on the other side, she caught her footing and muttered, “Woah.” Adjusting herself, she grabbed her vest by the edge of the shoulders and acknowledged the presence of Poppy, “I see you’ve brought a friend! Sup, I’m—”

“Avery Kaine, I know who you are,” Penelope responded matter-of-factly. Sure, it was a bit socially awkward but Poppy wasn’t going to pretend she was a charming wordsmith. If anything, she was still getting used to socializing without her face mask on.

“Damn, am I popular?”

Penelope’s reaction to Aves’ response was a playful headshake. This girl was certainly an oddity in Edenridge. Unapologetically herself in the goofiest, weirdest ways. Poppy liked that. “Aside from you being close to my dad’s cop buddy, you actually got me out of a pickle freshman year.” Poppy stared at the older woman, with those big, curious, and pretty brown eyes, assessing Aves facial expression which seemed to be left in a complete state of shock. As Pops waited for a response, she brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear and looked around. This place was kind of big in retrospect. The exterior was a little misleading. Made it out to be a lot smaller than it actually was.

Meanwhile, in Averyland, she was stuck on the fact that someone that wasn’t in her year recognized her, outside of Swerve. Avery didn’t think her hanging with Clay was that noticeable since he always came to her. He knew where to find her. Sure, he was a once-upon-a-time Elite and now a rookie cop paired with Rocky from the SSS. But still! She didn’t do much. All she ever did was go for the ride and be a vibe. It was her philosophy to have no worries and coast through life completely under the radar, right here in Swerve.

How did that Wicked song go?



Yeah. A good philosophy to live by for sure.

“Can’t say I remember…” Aves frowned apologetically, having no recollection of any incidents with the pale beauty during her senior year.

Having taken out a hair tie from Charlie’s jacket, Penelope started putting her hair up in a messy ponytail and admitted, “I don’t expect you to remember. A lot happened that year. It was in the girl’s bathroom by the library, you—”

“That’s fucking right! It was like a week before graduation and these bitches we’re teasing about how your dad was the reason your sister unlived herself.” When she said it outloud, she realized how dark the whole situation was. “I’m sorry, uh..” Avery became a deer in headlights, not knowing how to get herself out of this situation.

Fortunately, Penelope didn’t let her stumble on her words for much longer and expressed her gratitude, “I never did properly thank you for standing up for Max and me. So here it is, thanks. Your part of the reason why that year wasn’t completely shitty.”

“Anytime…” Anxiously tapping her foot, a sign that Avery wasn’t prepared for the gravity of this conversation, the nerd queen was quick to do the thing she was good at — entertain and leave the dark place right where it belonged, out the window, away from her, “So what brings you two here?! Want to read comics? Look at some animu boobies? Build a lego castle? Shoot nerfs at each other’s faces? Go into the fun zone and get your asses kicked at Space Invaders? TMNT? Mortal Kombat? DANCE DANCE REVOLUTION?!” There were so many things they could do and so little time.

As the exchange between Avery and Poppy went on, Marco just stood there, feeling maybe just a little bewildered only because he didn’t expect them to hit it off so well. He was relieved in a sense. Coming to Swerve, especially when he may have been feeling out of it himself, had always managed to center him in ways nobody else could. Only exceptions to that were Danny, his mother when she made Granny Carolina’s recipes, Lolly, and the people at Swerve. Even Oz, as wild as he was sometimes, whenever Marco was here and he was around, he could always smile at how he always behaved.

Swerve was the place that Marco didn’t have to worry about acting a little silly. He could embrace his true self here. Pretend to weave handsigns? Shout at the top of his lungs any thing from anime to comics? Marco could do that and there might be even a few people (usually Rosie and Avery) that would probably join him in that specific endeavor. So, really, it made him happy that Poppy was already feeling comfortable enough. Maybe it didn’t hurt that she seemed to have some kind of connection with Avery, but Aves was so damn likable that, honestly, it wasn’t hard to feel comfortable around her.

Looking at Aves, Marco perked up. “We just came back from a bite to eat at the Hole,” Marco said, rubbing his tummy for a moment and patting it a few times. “Pretty full but I don’t regret eating as much as I did.” He laughed, looking at Poppy when Aves finished all of her suggestions. “Welllll, I don’t know if Poppy has come here often — wait, have you?” He asked her. “I don’t think I ever asked. Cause I had this idea of doing some fun stuff to ease ya into the real fun stuff, but if you have, maybe we can skip the initiation.” Not like it was anything bad, but Marco remembered his and it was a bit of an adjustment.

Penelope shook her head to Marco’s question. “No, actually. I’ve past Swerve a lot but this would be the first time I’ve walked in. I know Avery from school… many moons ago.” Pocketing her hands in Charlie’s jacket, Poppy scanned the general vicinity and shrugged, “I guess we could check out the arcade room? Do you have air hockey?” Her green gaze went from Marco to Avery, before adding, “I’ve always wanted to try that.”

Near immediately, Aves answered, “Yeah, we got that, just over there,” she gestured to their right, her left, all the while leaning her backside on the counter, “Follow the red arrows and bam, you’ll be in The Zone.” She paused, giving herself a big ol’ stretch before continuing, “Oh, and Marco should know where the change machine is. We take quarters.” Just another way for Swerve to stay in business. Quarters and games. “If you have any questions, I’ll be out here. And if you’re big on reading, maybe your boy could introduce you to a cool story or two. Here at Swerve, there’s a story for everyone.”

“I’d like that,” Poppy smiled at Aves before bringing her attention to the boy beside her, “Lead the way?” The James girl politely asked, not wanting to enter deeper inside the store of nerdom without Marco as a guide. Truth be told, she had more confidence maneuvering throughout the library than at Swerve solely because she spent most of her childhood in the library. From babysitting Danny Boaz to waiting for her dad’s safe return, to Charlie’s safe return, Poppy had her places she spent a lot of time at and Swerve was not one of them. The library though? Just like Kylee Grimm, it was Poppy’s preferred place of research, reading, and reclusiveness.

As he led them away from Aves and onto a short adventure to the game area, Marco was all smiles. He moved slowly just because he was walking more than he should have today and that wasn’t even factoring in his late shift. All in all, Marco shouldn’t even be on his feet right now, but there was a rush of good vibes and pure adrenaline of being in his happy place carrying him along. Swerve made him happier than most places ever did. When he was here, he honestly felt like he did before the shooting. Before he was subjected to the limp life.

Marco had traced his steps along the arrows, stepping from edge to edge of the arrows. It was a different side of Marco. A side that not many got to see - the dweeb side. He stepped on the tip to the bottom of the arrows, making noises as he did. “Floor is lava! Floor is lava!” He repeated, glancing back at Poppy. His leg ached and he knew, in the back of his mind, Danny would kill him if he knew how much Marco was ignoring the stifling pain, but he was literally in the zone. There was no way he’d let himself be dragged down by a physical ailment that was moderate on the pain richter scale at best. In response, Penelope silently played along and followed Marco’s lead, stepping on the tip and tailing his pace.

Reaching their destination, Marco happily gestured to it. There was a singular air hockey table. He didn’t have much experience with air hockey and he definitely shouldn’t be doing it, but Marco was up for it if Poppy wanted to play a little hockey of the air. “And here we are! Not bad, right?” He grinned, herold-hiding-the-pain he felt. “The machine to get some quarters is over yonder~” He gestured to the machine against the back wall of The Zone where all one had to do was insert cash and select payment type (AKA you get quarters). “We have a good amount left over from dinner, so we can totally make the most of our time here!”

In time, they were both situated at one side of the hockey table. Penelope slid the paddle back and forth, back and forth, straight into her hands. “Let’s raise the stakes,” Her playful, competitive side took the surface. A side that hadn’t been seen in awhile. Clearly, she felt safe with her new friend. It helped that no one else was in the room. “Truth or Dare style. I get a point, you pick, I give. And same goes for if you get a point, I pick, you give. Could be fun! Since this is like,” Catching and holding the paddle in her right hand, she pulled out the puck from her slot, and dropped it in front of her, “Our first ‘date’.” She chuckled at how unusual this was for her. Since when did a southie take Marco Brady out on a friend date? Unheard of! Unreal! Unlikely. “You game?”

It took all of three moments for Marco to think it over. Three very short moments that was immediately followed up by a rather intrigued “you’re on!” from Marco. A grin was on his face. At Swerve, a different side came out in the young Brady. He was equally as competitive as Emil got at any given moment. Seldomly did anyone but Lolly see this side. She brought the best out in him in that sense. Always knew how to challenge him without being insulting. Marco did wonder if Poppy would be the same for him. Only time would tell on that one.

Taking a moment to prepare himself, Marco did a few stretches that he learned from PT. Making sure his leg was okay. When he didn’t hear or feel the cracks of pain, he took that as a good sign. “MacAttack vs Popalicious - let’s do it!” He was internally cringing at the on-the-spot nickname he just gave her but grinning like the dork he is externally.

“Okay, I’mma be real. That was like… just call me Popcorn Playa’ or something. Anything else...” She could see it on his face that he knew how cringy the nickname was. He was a dork and she was relieved he felt like he could be herself with her. With gradual ease, Penelope prepared to strike. Part of her was debating to hold back, the other part wanted to show Marco that she shouldn’t be taken as a weak competitor. She chose the latter and like the sharpshooter she was, she harshly hit the puck and it went zooming to the otherside.

Incredibly fast.

Slipping inches away from his hand and into the hole.

GOAL!

She fist bumped at her victory before putting her gamer face back on. “Truth or Dare,” she waited patiently for Marco to react to the speedy chain of events.

The resident gamer was too stunned to speak. “H-how did you do that?” Muttered a bewildered Marco, he slowly brought his blue gaze, one that was mixed of shock and literal awe, from the sight of the air hockey table (specifically his end) to Popcorn Playa’s end to Poppy herself. It had been over even before he had a chance to defend himself and Marco wasn’t no slouch when it came to Air Hockey. He wasn’t the fastest anymore (for obvious reasons), but he could still move around when he needed to, but Poppy just completely wiped the deck (of sorts) with him.

Still in that state of absolute shock, Marco just chuckled and then chuckled some more. He didn’t know she was so good and that was his own fault for underestimating her.

Never again.

With renewed focus and the dismay out of his mind, Marco grinned at his opponent that stood across from him. “Truth!” He answered back. Would he live to regret it? Possibly. Was he afraid of what she might ask? Also, yes maybe, but Marco was ready for whatever she had for him.

Penelope was never one to beat around the bush. Charlie knew that well. Those who knew her knew she wasn’t one to dance around subjects. If there was one thing she enjoyed it really getting to the root of a person. Over time, she’d find out things like their favorite food, their favorite hangout place, and their favorite movie, but what she really liked to know was their stories. Their experiences that made them who they were today. Marco would either like this about her or not, but there was no use in pretending to be someone she was not.

“Have you ever experienced heartbreak?” She bluntly put it. “If you have,” Briefly, she paused, absentmindedly circling the paddle around on the table. “Mind telling me about it? No pressure though! It’s just, I feel like pain, especially when it comes to the heart, really shapes a person. I’m curious, I guess.” Curious if they could relate. Curious if he understood pain maybe not to her extent, but enough to empathize with her. Curious about Marco. It was that simple.

“Well…” Marco hesitated. He looked down at the table, stalling for time. He looked at his paddle and slowly fished the puck from his end. He didn’t pull it out, but he had it in his hand. He didn’t know if this was something he was comfortable talking about. He and Danny were happy together now. They talked about their stuff. About what happened at junior prom. Marco was never one to hold onto grudges, anyway, so he never held it against Danny. Even if he did, it was past him. But talking about it so freely as during a game of truth or dare was a whole different matter altogether.

He spent a few extra moments in thoughtful silence. He occasionally looked up at Poppy, muttering some stuff, saying others that would further halt time. Even though he didn’t necessarily want to talk about it, the rules of the game were whoever loses the round, does the truth or dare asked of them. “It’s not exactly heartbreak in what you might consider traditional, but there was this boy. Back in high school, we were involved. Not publicly because he wasn’t the kind of person who wanted to be out like that.” For a lot of reasons, Danny never did. “I’ve known him since I moved to Edenridge with my family the summer before Freshman year. Seen him around. Got to know him that year and sophomore year, but things…escalated. We became… intimate the summer before junior year. Spent that entire year dating in secret. He never wanted to go public. Or maybe he was too afraid to?” Marco looked down again at the table as he put the puck beside his paddle. “It…may sound odd, but despite not being able to flaunt our relationship for everyone to see, I never cared about that sort of thing…Until I did.”

Just thinking about the pain that night caused him, no matter how much flex tape, duck tape, and fresh coat of paint was plastered all over it, that wound never went away. Marco still held the scar from that night. Shaking his head, Marco looked back at Poppy. “As it turned out, he didn’t feel the same way and we broke up around Prom that year. Kind of was the start of my own personal hell…” Marco chose not to mention it directly, but Charlie shooting him in the leg was the icing on that particular cake.

“Thank you,” Penelope genuinely gazed at the boy on the other side of the table, and complimented, “For being so real with me, even if I know it was part of the rules. Takes a lot of strength to go back in time like that. And I get it, I really do.” Penelope positioned herself, preparing to defend her goal, knowing it was nearing time for them to continue the battle. “Like my father, I wished Charlie and me…”

Glancing down, imagining his goofy smile and all the what ifs she thought about when he was alive, Poppy was lost in her head, unintentionally dazing out. She could see it now, he’d become a writer like he always wanted to and she’d be his editor, maybe they’d marry right out of highschool and move to Colorado, like they joked about. Maybe he’d say it openly and often, maybe he’d say he loved her. In the morning. In the shower. In the car. From afar. From a letter. From a recording. Before they went to bed, after they slept together, and in her dreams. She shouldn’t have waited. It was her fault they weren’t together and it was her fault he lost his way. Even with her trying to convince herself that he chose his wolf, he chose, he made that decision, she knew deep down that it was her fault. She didn’t love him strongly. She didn’t need him fiercely. She didn’t show him that from when they were kids to the day he died, she wanted him. She still wanted him. It was always him. And unfortunately, heartbreakingly, it still was. It’s always been him.

And yet, like Marco, she wanted to respect the wishes of the man she loved. He had too much on his plate. Too much to carry. Maybe he was scared. Scared of changing what they had because what they did have was good. It was constant. It was theirs. But her heart had a wish, her own ghost that was what she wanted, and she wished they… “...loved each other recklessly, foolishly, and so loudly, just like my dad with my mom. I wished we didn’t act like there wasn’t anything between us. I wish a lot of things, Marco. But I know there’s no point.” She picked up her paddle and dropped it on the table, causing a loud clap noise before shifting her pensive mood back to game mode, “The past is the past and ain’t nothing we can do about it. We’re here now! And it’s your turn to serve, MacAttack.”

For the longest time, Marco used to think there was no point. The entire year after the shooting and when he was in recovery and PT, he had periods when he used to think there was no point in it all. That he would never be himself again. That no amount of small moments of joy would bring him the relief that was the suffering he felt all of senior year and even most of the past year. But within the past month alone, he’s come to believe differently. Talking to Jill, spending time with his family more, reuniting with the love of his life, and then working at his dream job -- all of it was slowly but surely piecing back together the person he was. He may not be the same, but Marco knew it in his heart that the light was returning.

As he prepared to set up the next round, Marco knew he had to say something. “I don’t know how much it’ll help, but it’s not for nothing. I don’t know nor will I pretend to know what it’s like for you and the feelings you have, but take it from somebody who had zero intention of living life again: it does and will get better. I think we slowly piece back our broken pieces, but we’ll never be the same again. It’s like…” Almost laughing as the first thing that came to him was something that only Poppy would appreciate. “When Rock Lee was injured in his fight against Gaara, he was told he’d never be able to train or fight again, but he did both of those things. Perhaps not as well as he did before, but he didn’t give up.” It all came back to that presentation, but there were so many lessons one could take away from Naruto. Marco was proving that.

“Anyway, that’s all I wanted to say.” Marco positioned the puck in front of his handle and turned his somber frown into a competitive grin. “Now it’s time for Mac to attack!” When he saw that Poppy was ready (or as ready as she’ll ever be), Marco hit the puck as hard as he could, not wanting to let the past repeat itself. Whether a game of air hockey or at the game of life, both Marco and Poppy would push back with all they had in them.

They were fighters who were no longer lost.

After finding a native fox named Adora Diamondheart, easily found at the Blue Sun’s Hotel & Gambling Hall — someone both Natalia and Mordechai knew — the quartet dropped off their belongings at her place. At her humble abode, a heartfelt reunion took place where neither Jade nor Poppy participated. Once everything was said and done Natalia and Jade were quick to scatter, rather hastily, without discussing a game plan.

Whether it was Charlie’s ghost or some kind of annoying ha-ha joke, Pops and Decky were alone, together, one person clearly annoyed at the other, deciding what to do. They stood at the front patio having no idea where the other two headed off to. It was only five minutes they all claimed a room and got settled in. In those five minutes, the other two disappeared. Nowhere to be found.

With a blank expression, which spoke volumes to those who knew her, Penelope hooked her thumbs into her pockets and strolled down the stairs. She knew why she was here and if no one else wanted to help her through this, she’d move forward alone. When her feet met the soil, she turned to look over her shoulder, up at her pain-in-the-ass friend. Her green eyes caught his dark gaze and held it for a silent moment. A moment only he and Charlie would understand; a look he got many times before. That look that said ‘I’m going ahead, with or without you’.

Turning her attention away from him, she closed her eyes, taking in the sun rays. Glowing in the warmth, she inhaled and exhaled, finding Charlie’s gentle face, childish smile, and goofy laugh creeping in the back of her mind. She had a purpose here and that was to meet Mitena. This wasn’t about Charlie’s journal anymore. This was about her and finding the missing pieces of her Heart.

There were so many choices filled with regret and to this day, she dissected his words trying to see if there was a hint of a boy that loved her. Not a boy that kept secrets. Poppy was unable to breathe because she lived a life for his memory and not for herself. She lived a life so dysfunctional because she believed she couldn’t live a life without him. She always knew he’d come back to her. He’d come back. He’d always come back.

Not anymore though.

She needed to move forward, pick up all her shattered pieces and glue them back together. Charlie was dead. And with his death, her heart was lost. The pain, the grief, and the sadness overwhelmingly filled her lungs, like she was being weighed down at the bottom of the lake, and the burning sensation of drowning took over her body, telling her to give up. Give up. Just give up.

She thought he’d fight for her but no, this wasn’t that type of story. It was time that Poppy fought for herself and grew the fuck up. Walking away from Adora’s house, Poppy set off in a direction, not knowing her destination, in hopes the further she went the more she’d come to terms that this was her life now. A life of uncertainty. A life of unknowns. A life. Would finding Mitena give her closure to help her heal? Or would she find herself picking up more broken glass, unable to repair herself in the way she’d hope? Only time could tell.

Mordechai could never blame Poppy for the look she sent his way, no matter how many times he’s gotten it with the same result of tearing into his heart. It was a final look, it was a if you don’t fix things now then they may never be fixable again look. Once again, he’d fucked up without even trying. He may have let his friend in on where he took Danny on the holidays but he’d obviously downplayed the relationship between him and Adora, something that became evident when his reunion with her included the intimate humiliation of crying into her shoulder while shuddering out apologies to the woman that he and Danny also called Auntie. The look he’d caught on Poppy’s, and even Jade’s, face said enough about his newest case of looking like a jackass, and his face had been red from both crying and shame from that moment on.

Talk about uncomfortable.

Allegra had been right, because if Poppy felt even the slightest bit the same when he and Charlie had left her behind to do serpent things then they had always been doing her more harm than good. They’d been the ones breaking her down as they thought they were building a protective barrier around her. That look, the way it tore into him every time it was aimed his way, was the closest thing Poppy had ever done to actually leaving them behind or out of things. Yet they, or at least Mordechai, never learned. Here he was years later, having returned with a secret family and even more connections than Poppy had thought he’d had.

As her feet met the soil, he followed close behind, staying a step behind her while he allowed her to gather herself and her thoughts just as much as he was allowing himself. When he was ready, he sped up just a bit to walk shoulder to shoulder with her, no longer the brash kid that would run ahead and leave her at his back. The only time he ever wanted her to see his back was if he was really shielding her from something awful, not just thinking that he was.

“I’ve fucked up a lot,” He started, looking over to his friend and admiring how the sun made her glow in a way you’d never be able to see in the hazy gloom that always blocked out the sun south of Carlisle. “I’m…I don’t know if apologizin’ for it is what ya want, because it’s not gonna feel genuine, right?” He posed rhetorically, hands in his pockets and gaze pulling away from her and towards the clear sky so unlike the storm they had been driving away from. “But I just…I know I’ve been stupid, Legs don’t call be bovo constantly for nothin’. But she’s also really good at callin’ me on my shit that I’m too far up my own ass ta see, like actin’ as though I was some knight protectin’ ya from the darkest parts of Southie like ya didn’t grow up there too, like ya don’t have more legacy there than I do. All I can do right now is say sorry, but if you’ll let me, I wanna use this point on ta actually show ya I’m changin’, that ya don’t have ta leave me behind and that I won’t leave ya behind anymore, either.”

Mordechai stopped walking and put his hand on Poppy’s shoulder, gripping it light enough that she could pull away and keep going if she wanted. In return, Penelope stopped in her tracks. She didn’t turn to him. All she did was bring herself to a halt and wait.

“I just want the chance ta show ya, but I get it if I’ve used up all’a your patience already,” He gave a quiet, self-deprecating laugh and looked to the ground. “You’ve done more for me, especially recently, than anyone else and I kept turnin’ my back on ya thinkin’ it made me some protector. I didn’t mean ta leave ya out of so much’a our lives back then, I was stupid,” Mordechai looked up and sighed, stepping forward and turning in front of her so they were face to face and searching to meet Poppy’s eyes. “I mean, I’m probably gonna keep bein’ stupid since I don’t really know how ta stop that, but I was kinda hopin’ that…I don’t know, that you’d wanna be by my side ta stop some'a the worst of it?”

They say green is one of the strongest colors, igniting the new season. A goodbye to winter days. Her eyes were born in strength, and never failed to promise a better tomorrow, no matter how much sadness it carried. As much as she was annoyed, when they shared moments like these, where he broke down his walls and reached for her hand, a connection she couldn’t really put into words, she knew he meant well.

Mordechai saw the world differently than her. They might have been raised on the same side of town but that didn’t change the fact he had a far worse hand than she ever would. Both of their lives sucked but at least Poppy’s childhood didn’t leave her barely whole, constantly searching for stability or a feeling to drain the pressure from the unbearable pain of not being loved by the people that brought you into this world. In that matter, she was lucky. No matter how much of a pain in the ass he was to her, no matter the little white lies he told to shield her, no matter how much she didn’t know of him, which made her realize how little she knew of Charlie, she loved him.

“If you weren’t stupid, you wouldn’t be you, huh?” Penelope teased a small smile out of him before gingerly, cautiously bringing her hand up and gently, tenderly placing it on Mordechai’s cheek. “I’m not going to expect you to change overnight. I’m not going to expect you to change at all. But I’m not going to sit around and watch you kill yourself either, you understand?” Her words shook as she spoke, trying to hold back all the emotions she’s been harboring for so long, since he left town.

“I lose you, I lose another piece of me. And I’m barely here as is. I can accept I don’t know you or Charlie like I thought I did. I can accept I’ll never fully belong…” She heavily breathed in and out, bringing her voice down to a low whisper, “I can accept people die. Maxine. Danny. Charlie. But I can’t accept you killing yourself while you’re still alive. I don’t think my heart could take it.”

Mordechai leaned into her hand even as his tears slipped out of his closed eyes and coated her fingers, evidence of the emotions swirling within the both of them. He reached his hand up to hers and gently clasped them together, pulling her hand down to his chest and covering it with his other, easily enveloping hers completely with how small she was in comparison. He kept her hand against his chest with both of his, letting her feel the strong heart pumping clean blood through his system. What she’d said was similar to her reasoning when he had first gone clean in highschool for Danny and the emancipation, only Maxine had been the only name on her list back then. He wondered if she could feel the stutter his heart did as he thought of how the list had grown for him too. Maxine, Conan, Danny, Charlie, so much death and misery around them and he’d been putting so much stress on Poppy having her thinking that he was making his own one way ticket onto her list. God, he was such an ass.

“I’m here, Angel, and I understand. I’m done with the heavy shit, I’m here. And ya do belong,” He whispered, voice shaking as badly as hers. “Ya belong with me, with Jade, Allegra and the kids. Ya have us, and I’m sorry that I was too much of a dumbass ta see it before, what I was doin’ to ya.” Because they grew up together, and she grew up thinking she was unloved by her friends. He knew what it felt like when those you were meant to live and grow with treat you like you don’t deserve such a basic element of a relationship. He’d been hollow from the day his memory started until the day Sunshine filled up a piece of his heart, and then Danny and later a young Poppy, then Charlie and then Jade. Things had been fine then, and then he joined the Serpents and began putting up a wall Poppy couldn’t look over, isolating her from her birthright and casting a shadow over her life. He’d abused his friendship with her like he’d abused his friendship with Charlie. It looks like his parents had taught him something after all, molding him into the type of person that would ruin his own life so they no longer had to do it for him.

But he started a new life with Allegra and the kids, and it was time to get past everything and try to start the new chapters in their lives, that was the new goal. Never a promise, there was still never something as fragile to break as a promise passing his lips. But honesty was something he used to be brutally good at, and it was time he applied it again. Starting with what’s been on his mind for the past few days.

“I’m…I talked ta Phil the other day, and he can give me part time work at the shop,” His mechanic father figure was supporting enough families full time, and Mordechai couldn’t bring himself to put another full family on the man’s list of responsibilities. He opened his eyes to stare into hers once more, this time with conviction and strength. “I’ve been thinkin’ of goin’ back ta the Serpents for the rest of my income. I’m not gonna keep anythin’ from ya anymore, it ain’t gonna be like when we were kids. I just miss everyone there, and it’s felt like my heart’s been hurting ta get back there since the first time I walked back over the tracks,” He scoffed out a bland laugh as he remembered the woman waiting for them to return back home. He knew that she was in his head already. “And I’m pretty sure Legs is comin’ in with me, so I couldn’t hide anythin’ even if I wanted to.”

There was something oddly soothing about feeling his heartbeat. It was when he placed her hand on his chest that she felt the feeling of relief wash over her. Something so real, so concrete, as a beating heart. The pulse running through his veins and the light in his eyes to assure her he was here. As he talked, she had a moment where she listened but could hear the gunshot that took Charlie out. The gunshot her father shot. The sudden flash of a memory, not as distant as she had wished it to be, caused her to grip onto his shirt. When the haunting image came and went, she opened her eyes to glance up at him and she smiled, burying her beasts to focus on him, “I knew you would go back. Your heart never left.”

Stepping forward, Poppy leaned her forehead against his chest, against their hands, and welcomed the silence for a second or two. He was a pain in the ass but he was her pain in the ass and she wouldn’t trade that for the world. Turning her head to face the reservation, resting herself against her friend, their hands and arms shifting to an embrace, she looked to see the distant land, unfortunately impoverished but still beautiful. It was beautiful because Poppy could tell, from the people that they met thus far, cultivated and cared for it. Tended and brought so much love to it. The land and the people. They worked in tandem to avoid neglecting one another and the place they call home to create something beautiful. If only the people of Edenridge aspired to not take for granted the things they had. The people they loved.

“I need you to know,” she took in the sight of the reservation once more before looking back up to him, one of the few people she could be this intimately close with, “I need you to know that I won’t stop holding you when you can’t hold yourself. I need you to know I’m strong. Maybe not in the same way as you, but when things get too heavy, let me carry that weight. You are not alone and you and me, we could tell ourselves everyday we fucking killed all those we loved. That it was our fault. But really, what good does that do?”

Her words lingered around them, heavy and full of conviction. Full of power and love, a belief that they would get past this. That this too shall pass. She shook her head at the thought of all the bullshit they’ve experienced, making them guilty of people who were no longer with them. Guilty to live. “We had no control in any of that. Nothing you said, nothing I said, would’ve stopped Charlie. He was gone. Long gone before that day…” Digging his own grave. “And if you ever reach that dark place, and I know you have one, I have one too, remember me. Like I remember you.”

She hoped Mordechai understood what she meant, when she pleaded with him to remember her. It wasn’t just her she wanted him to remember. To choose. It was Legs. It was his babies. It was Jade. It was Sunshine. It was his boys. It was the idea of waking up tomorrow. It was the thought of finding peace, like Danny had hoped he would one day. It was a reminder that she loved him and if nothing else, he had her and she had him. He would always have her through thick and thin. What would the world do without Boa and his Street Angel? Be dreadfully boring, that’s for sure. “You matter. You matter to me.”

His entire frame shook as he held her close and took in her words, silent until he had control over the sobs threatening to rack their way through his body. Slowly, he took deep breaths until his heart rate had slowed back down and he could talk without crying. Once he’d accomplished that the guilt ridden fool kissed the top of his friend’s head and gently pulled away to wipe his eyes and squint up at the sun and the woods surrounding the trail they’d ended up on.

“Ya matter to me more than ya could ever know, Pops. I’m sorry I didn’t before, but I see ya, okay?”

“Good, because if you didn’t I’d have to give you a can of whoop-ass. Hi-yah!” Poppy tried to break the mood by doing a judo chop in the air, like the dork that she always was, causing Mordechai to break out in an uncontrolled laughing fit. Surprisingly, she didn’t cry during this. She could’ve sworn she was going to, but she was grateful she gave Decky the safe space to be vulnerable. She was grateful he could be unapologetically himself with her. She was grateful for him.

Perking up, straightening her posture, she offered her hand to hold, “Ready to unravel even more secrets? If I’m getting fucked up, I’m taking you with me.” Some people might misunderstand their relationship but the two southies were at a point of not really giving a fuck about what othere people thought.

“When we fall, we fall together,” He replied with a new strength behind his words as he gripped her small hand in his once more, the weight of dragging another friend down now lifting off of his shoulders. “No one ta catch us but ourselves, right?”

They were imperfectly perfect for each other.

Platonic soulmates.

Maybe Charlie’s ghost knew what he was doing after all…

With her dad leaving to help her mom with a flat, Avery Kaine and Rosalie Hawthorne-Drake had the store to themselves (which honestly was an often occurrence, since Arthur trusted his daughter and that’s that). Zella Kaine was part of the summer school program so that’s where she’s been spending most of her days at. Unfortunately, the Kaine matriarch was awful at keeping up with her car. Aves could’ve sworn a week ago that she told her mom about how shitty her tires looked. She was lucky it was only one tire that blew because lord knows, those tires were so old, they were begging for death at this point.

Avery had told Rosie that she could’ve left early to beat the storm, which was not what happened since Rosie was knee deep in her Basilisk fanfic. Hey, that was okay with Avery, having company was always nice since she was here from opening to closing most days. Ever since she graduated highschool and chose not to go to college, this was Aves life. Swerve Arcana. She wasn’t complaining. Her deal could’ve been worse. Plus! This helped free her dad’s schedule so he could reach out to some of his contacts to throw epic events here.

Pretty sure he was in the process of setting up a comic book signing with Spike Langley so that was cool. Spike was hella’ popular in Edenridge. He probably wouldn’t expect the most haunted place in America had his biggest fan base. In the backroom, which was mostly storage, Avery signed into her spotify on the computer that piped in the audio throughout the building. Going to her early 2000s playlist, she pressed shuffle and the first song to blast was Stacy’s Mom.

Bitchin’.

After turning up the volume, because why the hell not, there wasn’t anyone else around, Avery flew the door open and started shimmying, singing, and dancing down the manga aisle. She slid down from one aisle into the next, where RoRo was and she gave her friend a big, shit eating grin. Strumming her air guitar, she loudly sang, “You know, I’m not the little boy that I used to be. I’m all grown up now. BABY, CAN’T YOU SEE?”

What a day to come back to town. Bronagh Milligan, for as much time as she spent on the Internet posting pictures for OnlyFans, shooting her vlog and chatting with her adoring fans, she never checked the damn weather app. How was she supposed to know it was gonna turn into the Day After Tomorrow out there? She had spent most of her day interviewing and getting the job at the Animal Hospital. It wasn’t a permanent gig by any means, just something to help her pay a little rent whilst she was home for a few months.

College was, well quite frankly it was a bit of a mess for Bron. She’d changed her major multiple times now and she’s only gotten away with it for so long because she fucked the right teacher or teachers. Yet that was just sex, a trade of services. She had her boy chilling in Pinehurst, waiting for whenever she was around. He was an angry boy, so the sex was always amazing but he was also really sweet beneath the bravado. She’d have to let him know that they didn’t have to be long distance anymore while she was back in her hometown. Her big sister was back too! But JJ was out for the night, likely overnight if she had her way. All she said to Bron was that she was meeting a dreamboat. Knowing Eden, that boat was likely the titanic or a Russian submarine but Jessie was a big girl, she could handle it.

The self proclaimed influencer knew she had to find shelter fast or she was going to get soaked to the bone and although she would look hot as hell wet no one would be there to see it if she was swept away in a flash flood. Seeing the light on at the end of the street, Bronagh charged through the door of Swerve Arcana; a place she didn’t even know existed even when she lived in Eden the first time round. She tossed off the jacket she had stolen from the cute guy at the Vet’s to the floor to reveal her body in all its glory. Her crisp white shirt was slightly damp and see through whilst her long legs were drenched and glistening in the Arcana light. Bron flicked her hair back before sliding both of her hands into her back pockets, cocking an eyebrow as she did to look at the dancing girl in one of the aisles.

“Nice vibe.”

As if the music wasn’t bad enough (it really wasn’t bad but it was loud), but just for a moment, Rosie came out of the daze of her dreams, writing up a storm for one of her off-shoots of her Basilisk series and wrote a self-indulgant fic (let’s just say she’s taking some vague liberties about the clarity of her heroine’s love interest), she popped her head up to see Aves lost in her own groove, singing Stacy’s Mom at the top of her lungs, her dance moves nearly matching her pitch. But she loved seeing Aves being herself. Still…

“Did she have to be so loud?” The blonde artist sighed, looking up only long enough to see the hot blonde bombshell who just walked into Swerve. Her blue eyes homed in and admired from afar for the majestic hair flip, to which Rosie muttered “nice!” as she suddenly made herself available. “It is a nice vibe, isn’t it?” Rosie said, moving a little bit closer. “You look a little wet…from the storm, I mean. It’s coming down pretty hard, huh?”

“I’m a little moist,” Bronagh playfully responded to the pretty girl that was addressing her with a crescent smile across her face. “Nothing wrong with that though.” Her tongue gently caressed her bottom lip for a second, just a little tease before she stepped further into Swerve and looked around to get her bearings. Bron had to wonder where she had wound up. Lots of those comic book things, someone cut outs of Chris Evans, total Daddy and board games. Either she was at the comic book store she had heard her cousin Clay mention before or she had been struck by lightning and sent to the wrong heaven because this was obviously a nerd's biggest fantasy. “Nice place. You got anything hot to drink? Or gin? Either is fine.”

Damn. No one wanted to party. How lame. Where was Clay when she needed him? “No to the booze. But yeah to the hot drink. We got hot drinks in the backroom. And if you want soda, we also have vending machines. My mom likes every tea under the sun and my dad has a caffeine problem, so what would you like?” Avery asked, frowning that no one wanted to sing and dance with her. Then again, that was immediately left behind when her eyes couldn’t help themselves. They had a mind of their own. Before she knew it she was checking the newcomer out from head to toe.

Once she had taken in the sight, realizing man this girl did not belong here, Avery turned to Rosie and grumbled, “I GUESS I’ll turn down the music. But you’re lame. I wanted a dance party but you’re over here drawing disproportionate boobs that defy gravity.”

“I’m lame!?” Rosie huffed, offended by what Aves just implied. “Excuse me. These are works of art! They represent the level of power and general badassery. Just look at Power Girl. Her hooters are out of this world!” Rosie shouted, getting somewhat emotional. “New girl!” Rosie’s voice and eyes pinpointed on the blonde bombshell that just walked in who Rosie felt could bring a solid expertise into this debate. “You agree, right? Bigger is better!”

Bron really had no idea what she had stumbled into and she was missing valuable vlog filming time. She glanced at the two women staring at her and tilted her head. This entire conversation gave her an idea and this was going to be quite the unique opportunity. Sliding her phone from her pocket, Bronagh turned on the camera and placed it on one of the nearby bookshelves. “Is bigger better? Well…” Without warning, the Milligan girl peeled off her white t-shirt slowly to reveal her toned body, now only covered by a simple lacy black bra. “…is this the answer you were looking for or does it just open up more questions?”

Hold up. Hold up. Hold up.

Avery found herself staring right at Bron’s chest, stunned. Who was this girl? She looked familiar but she couldn’t put a name to her face. That bra was sexy though. Lace was kind of a vibe. She always imagined Jamie in a mesh lace dress. Lingerie. God she wanted to see Jamie in lingerie so bad. Closing her mouth from being ajar for a little too long, Avery snapped back to reality and met the other girl’s gaze, “Well you’re fucking hot, I’m just going to… get you cocoa. You seem like a hot chocolate kind of girl,” Begrudgingly, and almost like a robot, the older girl turned on her heel and marched to the back room, her face beaming bright red at the boldness of this stranger. Today was a day. A day that really made her stupidly hot and bothered. Fucking hell.

All sense of anything and everything around here just…stopped working. Rosie was a proud pervert. A respectful one. She liked to look but she did it with class. And sure, she drew outrageously large hooters on her characters and even liked to read comics with the same bra sizes, but when it was happening in real time and totally unprovoked, she froze. The fact that the blonde bombshell just pulled up her shirt without even so much as a warning not only sent Aves into her version of waving the white flag, but Rosie was frozen and her cheeks felt hot.

Does it open up more questions? Yeah probably…

She had to get a handle on things. Shaking her head lightly, Rosie had to force herself to not stare too obviously and just…focus. Focus on her face, not boobs. “Y-yeah that…”

Be it divine intervention or right place, right time, the boob-obsessed girl’s attention went from blonde bombshell to the door as the bell dinged and two new customers graced Swerve with their presence at the best time. Rosie let out a rather obvious sigh of relief when she saw it was Marco. Thank god and he was with somebody that seemed…familiar, but she couldn’t place. “Marco!” She exclaimed.

Marco was with Stacy. They were just coming from the park and he had intended to come here only so she could meet back up with her sister, but with one scan of the immediate area, Marco…well, he didn’t know what he just walked into. Looking at Rosie Drake, he just waved and awkwardly at that. “Hey…Rosie. And…friend.”

Following Marco’s lead, Stacy had followed his eyes, but at the same time she met the blonde who was exposed quite indecently, sending her face red with secondhand awkwardness, it was the song she heard in the background that really made her flush red. What kind of place did Katie like to frequent? Was this why Katie couldn’t wait to come here? Not like she wouldn’t fit in. Katie was certainly different than Stacy. “Hi…I’m Stacy…” She just waved too, mirroring Marco in a very awkward and tense interaction (not to mention uncomfortable for the Zima girl).

Sal had fallen asleep in the bathroom. After leaving Swerve on the recruiting mission he had accepted from the good lady Butterscotch and the Dungeon Master, he spoke to the Quill for directions wound up in a place called Westwood looking for the member of the Midnight Society they called the Sword, Dallas Drake-Davies. Arriving at quite a nice house, Salvador was greeted at the front door by a grungy girl who legit looked like she belonged either on the runway or at a Nirvana concert. She said her name was Adelaide and she reeked of awesomeness and weed.

Sal enquired after Dallas and was led into a small room to see a pretty girl looking after three kids. He introduced himself and mentioned who had sent him which piqued the girl’s interest. He informed her about his current predicament of trying to reunite the Midnight society so that he could enter their campaign and at first Dallas thought it was a joke. When Sal told her how serious he was, she had to mull it over for a second. Eventually Dal offered Salvador a deal. Beat her in blackjack and she’d help him on his quest. Sitting down at her kitchen table, the pair played one hand and luckily, Sal won. Now having recruited the parties Knight, a happy Sal headed back into the street but realised very quickly that this was still his first day in town and he was lost as fuck. He somehow managed to find his way back to Swerve and the bathroom he now found himself asleep in.

Emerging from the bathroom with a yawn, Sal moved down the aisle towards the entrance, hoping the rain had subsided so that he could find his way back to his new home on….fuck what street did he live on now? The young Mexicano stopped in his tracks when he saw the amassed group at the entranceway, specifically the topless beauty in the centre of it all. “Ay dios mío!”

Rosie forgot what she was going to say, but she was grateful for the distraction that Marco and…Stacy - yeah, that was the cute redhead’s name - provided. And even better, Salvadore (that’s his name, right?) showed up. Though, when Rosie glanced over at the latino boy, she couldn’t help but notice he was feeling some type of way. Welcome to my world… “Sal! Hey!” Rosie switched gears. As much as it was tearing her up inside to turn away from the free preview of some model’s Fansly or whatever it was called, Rosie made Sal the focus of her undivided attention. “Thought you left a long time ago. Where were ya?” Rosie definitely was trying to not get too beet red over the fact that the blonde bombshell still had them out. Yeah, for someone so boob-obsessed, she still had to work on how she handled the real thing in the moment.

“Erm erm I err…” Sal averted his gaze from the girl in the eye of the storm and over to Rosie. “I spoke to Dallas, she’s erm, yeah she’s in with helping us with the campaign.” The young boy was really at a loss. What was this place? Was it magic? Maybe they were all Bruja’s and this was some sort of curse? It was the most haunted town in America after all. “I got turned around in the storm, I didn’t know how to get home so I came back here.” He swiftly turned his head to look at the other newcomers, especially the girl, Stacy? He smiled awkwardly and offered a barely there wave.

“Well this is adorable,” Bronagh stood with her hands on her hips, her breasts still on full display. Her light green eyes fell upon her camera and a bright smile crossed her face. “As you can see guys, a big pair of tits can stop a room dead.” Bron brushed away her long blonde hair and flicked it behind her shoulder. “Does that make bigger, better? Why don’t you tell me? I’ll post a voting link in the comments. Don’t forget to like, share, subscribe. Love me, love you.” Blowing a kiss to her audience, Bronagh moved forward and turned off her camera. “I like this place, you nerds are fun.”

“Glad you think so!” Rosie acknowledged the bombshell’s comment with a small smile, once again trying not to lose herself in what remained out in the open.

Turning her focus on Salvadore, she noticed him and the pretty brunette (redhead?) exchanging a…something. Odd yet adorable. “Yeah it’s pretty crazy out there, isn’t it? Won’t get any better, I’d imagine.” Rosie had to take control of the group somehow, so she made a small clap with her hands. “So we got a bunch of familiars, but also a new girl--sorry, your name was what again?”

“Stacy!” She repeated.

“Right, Stacy. Stacy, this is Salvadore. Sal, this is new girl Stacy. Came inside with Marco here. Where were you two even coming from?” She asked both Marco and Stacy, the latter of which looked a bit too simp-esque to speak.

Marco coughed, finding himself increasingly uncomfortable. Boobs didn’t bother him but it felt just so awkward with them just…out like that. He shook his head. “Came from the park just down the street. Stacy said her sister was here. I just came to make sure she got here okay, but given the storm outside, guess I have nowhere to go.”

“Oh really? What’s your sister’s name? Maybe we can find her or something.”

She broke her boy-crazy eyes away from Sal to answer Rosie. “Oh! Her name is Katie!”

“Oh that loud mouth? Yeah, she’s around. Not sure where, but last I saw her, she was somewhere in the back. Aves was heading there, so I’m sure she can find your sister for us. And if not, at least you know she’s here, right?”

After Avery turned down the music and changed the playlist to something more relaxed, like lo-fi relaxed, she strolled into the employee break room to make some hot chocolate. There were quite a few people here so it was only fair to make a cup for each person, assuming they even liked hot chocolate. How many were even here? Unceremoniously, Avery poked her head out the door and called out, her voice booming throughout the entire Swerve building, “AM I MAKING ONE CUP OF COCOA OR DO YOU ALL WANT SOMETHING TO DRINK? IF I REMEMBER CORRECTLY - THERE'S LIKE…” Six? Seven people? There was Katie on the beanie and if she remembered correctly Sal came back and went straight to the bathroom. Perks of being at the front all the time. You remembered who came and went. “…fuck it. WHY DON’T YOU GUYS JUST COME HERE? DON’T TELL MY DAD! THERE’S BROWNIES AND OTHER SHIT MY MOM MADE!”

“Oooh brownies!” Bron exclaimed. Despite the fact if one looked at her impossibly perfect figure it appeared as if the OnlyFans model had never eaten a brownie in her life, that would be an incorrect assumption. Bronagh had a huge sweet tooth and when chocolate was in the cards, she was ready to play a full deck. Not bothering to pick up her shirt to cover her modesty, the green eyed temptress simply slipped her hands into the back of her short shorts and made her way towards the voice that had called them. The freckled girl, whatever her name was.

Avery’s yell snapped Sal out of his staring contest with the new arrival: Stacy. As the fantasy of having two kids and a dog with her gave way to the true visage of Swerve Arcana, the Latino boy watched the growing crowd head towards the back of the store. Not wanting to tempt fate, Salvador made his way to the entrance and made sure to lock the door. Sure, heaven had opened up above them but he had seen way too many times the lengths people would go to if they had a vendetta. For a brief second, his mind wandered to the bottom of those damned hotel stairs before he took a step backwards into reality.

Spinning on his heel, Sal hurried to follow the eclectic group that had been selected and gathered by unknown forces to protect the world from devastation. They weren’t exactly teenagers with attrition but they weren’t far off. He wondered as he entered the break room behind Stacy what great new adventure was about to take place.

The saga begins…

Afterlife was dead.

The storm was really starting to ramp up outside the once and former St. Paul Cathedral. That said, a little rain wouldn’t stop the Grateful Dead from partying the night away behind the stained glass windows and under the coloured fluorescent lights. The club wasn’t as filled as it normally was but there was enough revelry to create a vibe; then again it did just so happen to be a Monday evening, in the middle of a monsoon at the dying breath of summer.

Jill O’Brien and Mei Ramsey, call them vampires, witches, zombies or neon Medusas had been holed up inside the Afterlife since their earlier interview with their friend Kylee. Typical of her, she was investigating yet another of the countless dirty little secrets that Edenridge had swept under the proverbial rug. On this particular of days, Ky was deep diving into the horror story of David O’Hara. Foundling. Star Basketball Player. Nice guy. Possible child molester. David’s case had always been an interesting one considering there was no visible evidence of his crime. Nobody ever came forward. All there was, was rumour and rumour could be a noose in a town like Edenridge.

Two months ago, Mei would’ve been right by Kylee’s side in her investigation. The pair together were an unstoppable force of nature but Grimmy had to work without the Dark Priestess on this one. Instead, she was working with a shaggy haired Irish boy who played too much Tony Hawk Pro Skater. Mei had a more pressing issue. Her dream girl. A flame haired temptress whom she had desired for long enough that she couldn’t remember how long. Jill was so broken, so worn down by the dark before she and Mei gave in to their feelings. Now Miss Midnight was doing her best to help build her back up into the fierce and fiery woman she knew her to be. They had been making progress and now the dark was not crushing Jill, it was lifting her up.

Mei held onto the back of her girl’s head as they danced together to the sound of Vampires by The Midnight. They were ensconced in a lithe and sultry display as Mei’s lower half grinded against Jill’s. It would be hard, damn near impossible not to stare at the two women, dressed sexily and moving against one another in a display of pure passion. Mei had danced for years. Second to the mystic and martial arts, dance was one of her great loves. She shared it with much of her family; her grandmother opened a studio; Dansu no Jotei, on the Southside. The Midnight girl looked back fondly on dancing with her cousins Callie and Minnie as kids, the workout was almost as hard as the ones her father put her through. She hoped that Cal and Min were good. They were family so she loved them but they were a bit too K-Pop for her taste. I mean, Callie was an idol for Hecate’s sake. Last Mei heard she was in Singapore, Reagan saw her a few months back but that was neither here nor there. Mei had one thing to focus on in that moment and that was her girlfriend.

Leaning her head back and up, Mei kissed Jill’s chin, leaving a touch mark from her red lipstick. “You look crazy hot tonight.”

The girl who now sported a soft crimson ring underneath her own deep ruby lips just smiled down at the woman who marked her. “Got to make sure I match you, love.”

It still felt weird to be called crazy hot. It wasn’t the first time that Jillian O’Brien had heard it in regards to her appearance, but it had been a damn long while. Crazy was shouted far more than hot was in recent times, but now? Now she could actually believe it. Now she had someone with whom there was absolute trust that they meant exactly what they said. Sure, she had felt like that connection was there before, but it was either ripped apart by forces beyond her control or it turned out to be a bold-faced lie. With Mei, it seemed like there was no threat of the latter scenario. It couldn't be. She wasn't that good of an actor to play a long con over six years just to break Jill's heart. No, it made embracing everything that much easier.

And embrace Jill did. Her outfit, the same as the one she sat down for her interview with Kylee, was hitting that sweet spot of her old preppy cheer queen life mixed with her new darker edge. One honed in depression and destruction but sharpened to a productive point by the Asian goth girl who had a hold on her, literally and figuratively at this point. This was a new kind of beauty that the redhead could convey to the world. She had always put up a soft front, allowing herself to offer an easy approach and wait until she had the ear of her target before unveiling that more deceptive, dangerous side of her if needed. Maybe that was the influence of her mom's side of the family. Now, the dangerous side was out in the open. Vodka bottle in hand or not, Jillian O'Brien was not going to be messed with any more. Not with her queen by her side.

As the saxophone swells headed towards the climax of the song, she let herself be pulled in tighter against her demon dream girl, their bodies pressed together in a display that dared any of the spirits haunting the former cathedral to make themselves known lest their God judge them for standing by while they cavorted under the arches. Jill could still feel the heat on her chin and wanted to return the favor, but Mei's makeup was such a flawless portrait, it would be a shame to smudge it here on the dance floor. No, that could come later. So Jill settled for the closest thing she could as the ex-cheerleader leaned forward and planted her lips on the ex-cheerleaders' neck, gentle as she was in the past, but the slight pressure and the brief flick of a tongue let Mei know how her partner was feeling. Vampires, indeed.

"So, do we want to maintain our spot on the dance floor, or do we go refresh our drinks?" Jill asked Mei as the song started to fade out.

A small moan escaped from Mei’s painted lips as she felt the soft breath of her girlfriend on her neck. Really it sent shivers down her spine in the best possible way. Oh Jill was going in the right direction for a good time doing the bad thing tonight. The Goth Goddess allowed her hands to wander from behind her lover's redhead and down her body to reach her soft, smooth legs. Fuck, she was lucky. “We better get some drinks or I’m just going to eat you out right here on the dance floor.”

Mei had developed over time, a certain cadence that was unequivocally hers. She spoke her mind, literally. She did not hide what she felt or what she thought, consequences be damned. If she wanted to fuck her smoking hot girlfriend, she’d say it. If she wanted to call the terrifying leader of the Southside Serpents a cunt and punch him in the face, she would and she did. Mei had pushed all concern of retaliation from ReyRey for her attack on Carlisle down to the bottom of her mind. She knew it was probably a mistake and that retribution was coming her way but fuck it. She was Mei fucking Midnight. She was badass…or at least she hoped she was.

She took a hold of Jill’s hand and walked towards the bar. As the pair walked, the tattoo artist noted the Devil leaning over the VIP balcony, chatting very closely to a beautiful blonde. Well that wasn’t going to end well. Mei wouldn’t be surprised if a body was found floating in the lake in the morning once the storm had subsided. The very thought of death didn’t bother the midnighter, in fact she embraced it but what did worry her was the lake and particularly bodies in the lake. Kylee, one of her best friends, was currently investigating one such body and Mei couldn’t help but wonder how much danger she would be in if she opened Pandora’s box. “We should check in on Ky first thing," she said as they arrived at the bar. “I’m a little worried.”

Jill nodded as she rested her arm on the bar, the other one not leaving Mei's grip for a second. It was true that Kylee was experienced enough at doing this sort of investigation that she would be able to avoid getting in too deep of a situation. She also had a Callahan with her, possibly an upgrade of a Callahan. Jill didn't remember Adam looking like that when he left Eden the first time. But still, the drowning of David O'Hara was a sore spot for the town, certainly for the Elite, and one wrong prod could bring the wrong people after her.

Although having had some time to think about it since the afternoon interview, was it really that wrong what David did? Going after a freshman as a senior was a major faux pas, for sure, but was it that much different than Grace fucking Danny a few months later? Not that Jill wanted to relive that portion of her life, not with her and Danny having finally patched things up to the point of civility. In fact, one of the comforts she had was knowing that even with its reclaimed status, the lingering sanctitude of the cathedral would probably cause Grace's skin to burn the second she stepped foot in the Afterlife. But Jill played her part in spreading the rumors about Dirty David, helped hasten his excommunication from the Elite, and barely broke a sweat when she heard his body was found in the lake. Being on the other side of her own descent into crushing darkness definitely gave her perspective she didn't have back then. Jill felt bad for what she did to David.

She also felt bad about lying to Kylee.

Although that one wasn't 100% true. Jill still pointed her friend in the right direction as far as she knew. She wasn't going to completely shut off Kylee in her dogged pursuit of the truth. But it wasn't her story to tell. She gave Kylee her side, for sure. But she wasn't a snitch, especially with something so personal. No, she wouldn't be using that to break down people anymore. She wasn't going to give her own girls the Emily Carano treatment. Except maybe Lanie.

"Ky will be fine," Jill finally answered. "You know as well as I do how much of a bulldog that girl is. In the nicest way. I sent her to Cece, and if there are answers to be had in the Dirty David story, Cece is her best chance to get them. You know how good Cece was at getting things done in the shadows back in the day. She won't steer Kylee wrong." I hope. "But yeah, once we are done here, I think a drunken check-in call to our third Angel is in order. But to get to that state… what do you want, love? This one is on me."

That would probably be the only one given Jill's finances at the moment. She still hadn't found any work, most local businesses aware of how far she had fallen during her post-pregnancy depression, and unwilling to hire the glamour of the past with the wreck of the present still looming and potentially relapsing at any given moment. She now knew how her mom must have felt scraping and clawing to get what she could before marrying her dad. Lyons to O'Brien and back in one generation. She was starting to scrape barrels, heck even working at the Afterlife didn't seem so bad. Or with Ky's sister at the Edge of Sin. She was drunkenly joking with Hailey about the offer but now, it was looking like an option. She needed something. Mei couldn't keep carrying the two of them like this.

“Black Mojito baby.” Mei rapped on the bar as Sonya began mixing her signature drink for the dark priestess. Jill was right. Kylee could definitely take care of herself and she had Adam with her who was built like a Grecian statue of Zeus. That was a surprise. Mei hadn’t thought about Adam Callahan in years. She remembered him much like Roddy, nice guy, shaggy hair, goofy grin, all the usual Callahan traits. Yet when he turned up at their door, bulging out of his shirt and having grown into his features? Well that sight almost turned her straight.

Almost. No one could ever top her Jillybean.

Caressing Jill’s hand with her thumb, Mei thought about the last few months since she and Jill got together. Everything had gone so fast but so right. The Dream Girls were living together, fucking every chance they got, rocking their new car, living life at night and Mei was helping Jill physically and mentally get back to the foxy fire-headed mega babe she was before she got caught in a shitstorm. Though it was a two way street. Jill was showing Mei that she didn’t have to constantly live in darkness, that there was warmth and love in the light. However, Mei knew that there were still secrets between them, secrets that she hoped they both could share over time. One of which was Jill's state of employment. The Midnight girl knew how much Lady Ashes hated that Mei was paying all of their bills and it was a weight that she was desperate to lift.

“I’m just being silly, Ky’s got that glorious chunk of Irish beef with her, she’ll be fine.” Taking a hold of her drink, the goth girl took a sip and sighed in pleasure. “Perfect.” Placing the drink back down on the bar, Mei let her eyes drift over her lover's body for a moment before meeting her gaze. “So I was thinking about your job situation, maybe it’s time we asked someone for help?”

Jill took a long sip from her expertly crafted Darkfire cocktail. She had explained it to Sonya a couple months ago when the idea came to her in a dream… or so she says. Two shots of dark rum, one and half ounces of mango juice, one ounce of cranberry juice, a dash of cinnamon, and two black cherries for garnish. She didn't care if she was the only one that ordered it, or the fact that she had a drink of her own at the Afterlife probably meant she spent way too much time here, but it was hers in the way the Black Mojito was Mei's and it suited them both just fine.

"Both on mine, Sonya," Jill confirmed as she turned back to her lover. Mei brought up the situation she knew they were both thinking about and Jill let out a soft sigh. "I guess. It was so easy to get a job before. All I had to do was bat my eyes and mention my name and I had access to the register if I wanted it. But now that the money from Dad's life insurance is gone and everyone else is doing their own thing… aside from Grace, but who fucking knows what she actually has planned for herself, I just… I guess I need the help to get back into that better spot huh? Law school is basically out of the question now so… what can a girl like me do to get some money going in this town? I mean, taking off my clothes is more of an option now, I guess."

It had only been a couple months but the changes to her routine were starting to bring that old cheerleader body back to the redhead. A good chunk of the pregnancy/booze weight was finally starting to disappear, and even if they were denizens of the dark now, the fact that she was getting outside and limiting her booze intake to "non-Disney star breakdown" levels was helping her complexion regain a little bit of that shine. The scars remained, but at least there were things to draw the attention away.

"Although I guess the Edge of Sin is out. Can't be madly in love with someone who punched out the owner and get a job there, unless, you know, I reach supernova hot levels."

“You already are supernova hot levels but I digress.” Mei brushed a hair from Jill’s face and tucked it behind her ear. She leaned in and kissed the lone gently before returning to her bar stool. “I hate for us to go there but babe, if you really want to work, we have an ace in our back pocket.” If she was completely honest with herself, the nocturnal DJ wouldn’t mind if Jill decided she didn’t want to work. She just wanted her girlfriend to be happy and if that meant staying on the couch and watching reruns of Modern Family or Scrubs then that is what she would support. Still. Mei knew Jill, she knew her better than anyone and as she returned to the person she once was, that version of her would not sit idle and wait for the end. No, the real Jill would take the bull by the horns, break its neck and then cook Mei a romantic dinner before the hottest love making possible. That was her Jill. “We could speak to some of the guys, see if their parents are willing to take you on? Then maybe after a little moment saved up we can get you into community college? Like I hear Lexie Davies is back in town? We could see if her Mom’s law firm will take you on as an intern or something? Or I could speak to Ozzy? Get you a job at the insurance company? Hell, we could ask Ky and see if dream daddy Grimm can help?”

Jill demurred as she felt more heat, this time on her ear. It was amazing how Mei could stir emotions with a simple peck that an entire starting backfield for the Celtics couldn't coax with their naked bodies. "It's something, love. I don't want to be asking for too much charity. I just gotta get something on the resume other than high school accolades and pity points. Shit, I would even wait tables if I have to, but is an internship going to be the best thing for us? I don't want you to run yourself into the ground just because I'm still trying to get back on my feet." Jill's hand slipped alongside Mei's cheek, carefully gliding along to make sure she didn't disturb the painted look as it reached her ear and caressed down her neck. Mei's own scar of the past was ever present, but it didn't completely own her. Just like the scars on Jill's back wouldn't own her. Not anymore. "Besides, I think I have heard enough of Momma Ramsey's pep talks to try and aim a little higher than smoking hot trophy wife. Even if you deserve that trophy."

Jillian’s touch always ignited Mei’s blood like a spark to oil but the feel of her finger drifting around her neck felt different. The Wiccan had done everything she possibly could to move beyond that day. She threw herself into her art. She threw herself into the radio and she threw herself into love. The Chairman used to say that Mei was a mountain, strong, resolute and unmovable. Yet she had been moved.

Most other than Jill would assume that the youngest Ramsey had overcome the events of the first day of senior year. They didn’t see her waking up at night screaming. They didn’t see the fact that she avoided sleep so that she didn’t have to relive that moment. When she closed her dark eyes, Mei could transport herself back to that moment, the moment she saw Charlie looking at her through the door. They never had a bad relationship or any real relationship, it was always civil and when they talked they liked to talk about music. She didn’t think about anything else when she got up from under the table. She didn’t think that in two seconds, he would raise his gun up to the glass and open fire. It was like watching a movie. She could see herself lying on the art room floor, holding on to her neck and gasping for breath. She could see Roddy Callahan running over to her and taking off his jacket to put pressure on her wound.

The mountain crumbled around him.

“You know, I might be able to help,” a voice said from behind the girls.


Taking a seat next to Jill, Esteban Montero looked massively out of place. He was dressed in a light blue suit with a black turtleneck but he looked immaculate and handsome; his moustache perfectly curled and his hair fluffy and flowing. “Three tequila, mi amor and something for yourself.” The charm dripping through the man’s Latin-tinged accent was like melted butter on toast. It was to die for. As Sonya poured the shots, Esteban turned his attention to the vampires. “If you’re looking for work, I may be of some assistance.”

Jill turned around, used to men offering to help in her times of trouble. They definitely didn't have accents dripping like that though. Or dressed that impeccably. Or offered tequila. Usually it was slurred speech from a soiled sweatshirt offering a beer for a flash. As Jill watched the shot of Patron land in front of her, she eyeballed the mysterious Latin stranger. "I'm listening, but if this is one of those million dollar deals to fuck my girlfriend, she's worth at least double that."

A wry smile crept across Mei’s painted lips. Jill was a badass and this stranger had no idea what sort of girls he was dealing with. He was up against the Vampire Dream Girls. “I mean, you can take a run at me daddy but you’ll have to pay the toll and it ain’t just a shot of very expensive tequila.” The demon knocked back her shot and as her throat burned, she looked to Sonya. “Another, on the caramel bear's tab.”

Esteban let out a hearty chuckle. These girls were fun, spunky, there was an edge. “Please it’s nothing like that. You are both very beautiful but...” He raised his left hand and showed a sterling silver wedding band. “I am happily married and you are very young.” He said with a wiggle of his fingers. “No, I am opening a hotel here in town. Encanto. And it is part of my mission statement to make sure when I open a new location, that I always exclusively use local talent.”

That did get Jill to raise an eyebrow. First, someone with class respecting the sanctity of marriage? Jumped a very low bar in this town with ease. She finally took the shot of tequila and poured it back past her lips. It probably wouldn't mix well with all the rum, but by this point it really didn't matter what mix of booze Jill took on a given day. Although her tolerance was starting to creep back down a little…

Second, someone wanting to open a hotel in Edenridge? Someone who believes tourists would want to come to the cursed burb of Boston and spend money to stay here? They did have a lot of bravado if they thought that was going to work. But he clearly had the money to back it up. And third…

"Well I have been called a local talent before," Jill confirmed. "Although I am not sure which of my talents you need in the hotel business. I am not a very good maid, my cooking skills top out at French toast, and while I think I sing like an angel, I don't know any pianist who can plink out a decent version of Stay. But I am still listening, Mr…"

“Montero.” Esteban took his shot of tequila like a champ and didn’t even flinch. In front of seasoned veterans like Mei and Jill, that was impressive. “Esteban Montero.” He reached into his jacket and pulled out a business card. Laying it flat on the bar, he slid it over to the young lovers. “There are many positions in the hotel business, if anything you could try a few, see what fits. Personally, I can see you as a hostess. Not too dissimilar to some of the, damas impresionante, walking around us right now. Save the fact you would be in a bar and restaurant setting.” Esteban ordered an Old Fashioned from Sonya before turning his attention back to the Goth Goddesses. “Obviously the hotel has not yet been finished so, if you were to apply and be successful, we would keep you on retainer. Pay you up until the hotel is complete and then start you as soon as possible. No pressure of course, I am a stranger offering you a job in a bar. Have a think about it, my office number is on the card.” Getting to his feet, the dapper gentleman grabbed his glass and saluted the girls. “Disfruta tu tarde, saludos.” With that, El Capitan moved away from the bar and climbed the stairs towards the VIP area.

Watching their newest benefactor walk towards the Devil's domain hammered home the point that this man apparently talked the talk as well as strutted it. Jill looked at the card on the bar, it definitely looked like it came from a man of taste and wealth. She picked it up and flipped it over, as if weighing the offer in her mind already. "Well, what do you think, babe? Not the channel I was expecting but he's offering to pay me even before the place opens."

“Well it seems shifty as fuck to be honest.” Mei’s face shifted and she began to smile with her teeth on display. “Which makes it really goddamn exciting.” She could tell that something wasn’t right. Living in Edenridge all your life tends to give one a sixth sense that there’s more to the story than the first glance of the first page. This handsome moustachioed daddy was hiding something and Mei could see that. What was he hiding? Well therein lies the question. Finding out what it was would be a marketable change from the secret love lives of Eden high schoolers. “I dunno babe, I think this could be exactly what we’re fucking looking for. Excitement. Adventure. The unknown. And a free hotel suite whenever we want it so I can do unspeakable things to your sexy ass.”

Leave it to Mei to find the bright side in any offer. Or at least the sexy side. It never failed to get a laugh out of Jill. "Didn't know you wanted to live out the fantasy of picking up a stranger in a hotel bar like some district manager in from fucking Omaha," she said through the giggles. Another thing Mei never failed to get out of her. Maybe that's why this relationship bloomed as quickly as it did. Admitting to each other that they filled each other's needs and wants so completely, it was more a question of what took it so long to begin with.

"Well assuming that Kylee solves the mystery of the damsel that doomed David, I guess it makes sense that we fill that void with whatever Mr. Montero is bringing to Edenridge, huh? I can be the girl on the inside, getting all the info on the operation. Or if it turns out the operation is boring, getting access to all the minibar foods." She grabs another cocktail from Sonya, assuming she knows that Esteban would be covering a couple more beverages for Eden's favorite power couple of the night. "Maybe I'll take him up on that offer, see if he accepts the application," Jill lifts her glass up. "And we'll see where this ride takes us."

Mei clinked her glass with her girlfriend's and downed her drink. They could be entering dangerous territory. They didn’t know this man, who he was, what he did and what his plans were. Their path was uncertain, splintered and maze-like but they were doing it together. That’s all either of them could really ask for. Mei stood up and pulled Jillian onto a deep long kiss. God she was madly in love with this woman. She would do anything for her, even die. Curse be damned. Mei was going to fight Edenridge with all her will and might for her happy ending.

“Ride of your life, baby.”

“AIS!”

As he struck the wooden training dummy, Adam could feel the sharp, knife-like sensation shooting down his inner forearm. He had learned long ago how to dull pain. Exhale through the mouth, release the feeling into the air to be carried off by the wind and centre yourself on something else, something that could flood your mind and wash away the sensations of agony and discomfort.

“AIS!”

Another strike, a downward pointed elbow. Adam’s mind drifted, unfocused into memory. He could see Tommy’s face contorted and grimaced as his patella tendon was ripped apart by the attack. It was almost like an out of body experience. Glancing up, he could see his father's steel blue eyes staring gleefully with mania at the carnage that was unfolding. No Mercy. Win at All Cost. Survive. Lessons learned at Axe and Hammer Dojo were not lessons learned lightly. The whites of his father's teeth, the joker-like grin, it was encouragement to keep going. Adam repeated the elbow strike over and over. Tommy screamed. He whipped the boy around onto the floor and the ref charged the Callahan boy to the out of bounds section of the mat, separating the lion from his prey.

“AIS!”

Adam pressed a thrust kick into the centre of the dummy. Instead of simply seeing wood, the fighter saw his father, flying through a used car lot's display window. The glass breaking, shattering into a million pieces of stardust around the crumpling body of the senior Callahan, an image Adam kept in his head almost all the time. He ran from the scene, only stopping to see Sensei Zeno, flanked by his daughter? Watching him with such a look of disappointment on his usually stoic and blank face.

Pressing his head against the dummy, Adam gripped onto the bars for support to hold himself aloft. The sweat was pouring from his bare chest as he breathed out the pain, ignoring the swelling and bruising of his hands. Sensei Zeno and Thom Callahan had pushed and pushed and indoctrinated Adam into their way of thinking for a time but he had broken free. Yet despite this freedom, the lessons remained, the teachings remained. He closed his green eyes and searched, he dove into the waters of his past to find a memory, to find his centre. There she was. Brown hair. Brown eyes. Grimm by name but not by nature. He exhaled again as the blood trickled from his left knuckle.

There she was.

The chaos of his mind prevented him from hearing the quiet steps of the woman in his heart. Kylee wasn’t a heavy sleeper by any means so she had been awake the moment he left the bed. She chose to keep quiet and stay so she wouldn’t disturb his routine. She didn’t want to become that type of girlfriend that required 24/7 attention all the time (even though she totally was that girlfriend). Their budding romance was fresh and exhilarating. The two lovers were threaded in every heartbeat and Kylee was determined to make it last, burying her neediness, deep into the ground. Or at least try to.

The couple had spent the past few hours exploring each other, having fun and feeling good, as one. Kylee found herself exhausted and in need of a nap. Now that she got her micro nap in and her mind was restless, she could no longer wait for the company. She needed him! She needed her Adam.

Picking herself up and throwing on one of his shirts, she peaked out the door to watch him. From when they were kids to now, his technique had improved by leaps and bounds. His hits were clean, sharp, and precise. Every move had intention and power. He was strong. He was focused. He was a fighter. It didn’t take a trained eye to notice that. Adam Callahan was good at what he was doing and he carried himself as such.

Even with all the years of training, even with him taking pride in his lifestyle, she could feel the pain. He was this way because he had no choice. He was trying his damndest to not become the very thing he hated the most. She saw it. Not because he showed it in his face. No, he was good at masking his emotions, just like Roddy. She saw it by feeling the atmosphere. He was hurting. He was hurting so much.

Peering into this ritual of his that he likely did alone, she could feel every punch and every kick. She could feel the years of suffering where they were apart emitting from every fiber of his being. She could feel the tears he shed alone, which only drove him to this point. Only drove him to come back to Edenridge to her. It made her incredibly sad. Sad that she wasn’t there for him when he needed her the most.

Her selfish feelings aside, Kylee was grateful he was here and that he was using control to better himself. Control was something she battled daily, hating when things didn’t go according to plan. That’s why she didn’t take his disappearance well. That’s why she didn’t take his reappearance well. That’s why she didn’t take that Stacy girl well either. Everything he’s been through she had no part in. Everything that was his life thus far she couldn’t change even if she wanted to. He was ripped from her life by his sleazy father and she couldn’t protect him. She was useless. Just how she couldn’t protect herself from her own father, unable to say no and fight back. An obedient daughter through and through. Kylee had no control in anything that mattered and she hated that.

Pushing her thoughts to the back of her mind, Kylee slid her hands and arms around the sides of her beloved Adam. Wrapping herself around him, holding him close, she pressed her soft lips on the nape of his neck and announced her presence by playfully teasing, “Sweaty boy.” She turned her head to rest her cheek against his back. The thought that this was her reality now was still hard to process but it sure did make her smile.

She loved him.

Adam jumped internally when he felt Kylee wrap herself around him. He had learned to control all physical impulse and movement but that didn’t mean he still didn’t feel it all on the inside. Turning in her arms, the fighter held the Mayor's daughter close with his right arm, wiping the blood from his left on his dark shorts. He rested his hand under her hair and on the back of her neck before moving his now dry hand to her waist. “I’m so sorry, did I wake you?” The fact she could get any sleep at all, with the storm raging outside and lighting flashing every few minutes was crazy.

He still couldn’t believe that she was there. Kylee Grimm was in his apartment. Not only that but they had made love and professed love and it had all happened so fast. Only forty eight hours ago Adam was sitting on the nearby couch and was planning on how he would approach Ky again after his kidnapping by his father. How do you go see the girl you’ve loved all your life, after disappearing from hers and tell her your back in town? Apparently it involved crashing into her on your third skateboard that month and going on a hunt for a psycho sending threatening letters. Then getting caught in a monsoon and professing your love. Yeah, a weird day.

“I have a routine. Sorry it just helps me get my head where it needs to be.”

“Why are you sorry?” Kylee reached up and gently placed her cold hand on his cheek. Her big eyes watching him carefully. “I like the noise,” she serenely smiled, gently stroking his face in an attempt to soothe him, “Believe it or not, I sleep better when there isn’t silence.” It’s true. The silence was awful. Coming from her creepy manor, yeah, she’d prefer the sounds of Adam’s grunts from punching a dummy and the storm outside any day. Left little room for the imagination when she knew what was making the noise. “I’ve been up for a bit. I just didn’t want to bother you,” She bashfully admitted before giving him a gentle peck on the lips.

“You’re sweet.”

In that moment, Adam felt like he was the luckiest guy on the planet. Feeling her hands on his skin cooled and calmed him, as the memories of another life washed away with the rain. Sensei Zeno and Faye and his father were all pulled away with the tide, instead leaving him alone on an island paradise with Kylee Grimm. He leaned down and kissed her deeply, his heart ablaze with a dream come true. When the torture and the training became too much, Adam always used the thought of a happy Kylee to get him through it all.

Taking his lips away from hers, he took a step back and grabbed a nearby towel to dry off his torso. There were lots of little things that Adam needed to do through the day to help him cope, he was a man of schedule and rhythm. What Ky had just walked in on, was just the tip of the iceberg. “I need to take a shower.”

“Okie dokie!" Kylee beamed. “I’ll go after you,” she added, saying matter-of-factly. Stepping back and allowing him to do his thing, the Mayor's daughter continued, “I’m going to get myself a snacky snack and make a call.” The logical thing to do was give her father an update and tell him she was safe but that wasn’t what she wanted to do nor who she wanted to speak to. No. What she needed to do was call her best friend and tell him all the things that happened to her today. She needed Roddy and she wanted to see his face, especially his reaction to the deetz. “When I’m all clean I want to watch these diary videos you made. I demand it, Adam.” She gave an excitable grin, ready to see a side of Adam that would belong to her and only her. Someone for her to have and to hold, and that wanted to do all that back. A side that was completely hers and no one else’s. Her Adam.

God she was so cute. This version of Kylee was such a far cry from the girl he had reconnected with earlier that day. The one from this morning was standing on the precipice of her dark place, teetering on the edge of her darker impulses. She had fallen but Adam had managed to catch her. “As you wish,” He bowed in his best Dread Pirate Roberts impression. His pale green eyes took in her body hungrily. The shirt she had claimed dwarfed her but Adam could still see the outline of her curves, the soft silk of her skin under the hem of the shirt where her thighs were barely covered. Damn, she looked far better in that than he ever did. “See you in a bit.” Popping a kiss against her lips again, Adam turned towards the bathroom and closed the door behind him.

The moment the door was closed Kylee was quick to dash to her phone (which was still on the coffee table) and fly onto the couch, laying on her belly. When she unlocked her phone, she saw the missed call from her father. She bit her cheek in worry, wondering if he was going to be mad at her for not calling back immediately. He only called once which is all he should need to do when it came to her. Shaking her head, dismissing her growing anxiety, Kylee went to her best friend’s number and pressed the video chat option.

As she waited for Roddy to pick up, she shifted her body by sitting up and taking the pillow with her. Hugging the pillow, she hid part of her face, hoping Roddy had been managing Texas living just fine. Kylee worried about him. Texas was a long way away from home and she wondered if he made any friends. Were there cool ghost stories there? The Grimm princess could only hope he was making the most of his time with his small family tagging along. Still, things would be better if she and him were in the same state. At least then she could visit him when she wanted to.

Roddy withdrawal aside, Kylee couldn’t believe her day so far. It was so strange and unusual, and yet it made so much sense. From when Adam crashed into her to him and her getting entangled with each other, fiercely, intensely, wonderfully… it all made sense. Not only to their physical chemistry but to the fact that whatever they were missing for the past few years was no longer a problem. That hole in her heart that was made when he disappeared, didn’t exist anymore. The moment Adam made his intentions clear and bared his soul, he gave Kylee a sense of unconditional love that she didn’t realize she desperately wanted, hopelessly needed, and absolutely yearned for.

All this time she was searching for something, she just didn’t realize it until today. He did all the right things that made her feel that she was deserving. That she was beautiful and he understood exactly what she felt 99 percent of the time even though she loved to make things difficult and couldn’t help but be a pain in his ass. And honestly? She couldn’t be happier. “Roddyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy,” she drawled when she saw the video slowly processing.

“Lanie! Rylie spilled her food in Dusty’s hat again. It’s your turn to clean it.” The familiar sound and thick Boston accent chimed through the speakers of Kylee’s phone as the one and only Roddy Callahan appeared on the screen in all his shaggy haired and bearded glory with his baby girl sitting on his lap. “Oh we’re on! Hey Velma!” The young man waved at his best friend. “Look Ry, it’s Auntie Ky! Say hi,” Rod picked up the little girl's arm so that she too could wave at the brunette, all the while having a smile plastered across her potato face.

“Oh she’s getting so big,” Kylee’s eyes widened as she looked at the pure cuteness that was her best friend’s daughter. “Hi, Moonie!” The girl's voice shifted to that of baby talk, high pitched and adorable. She gave Rylie the nickname Moonie the moment she met her because she could immediately tell that she was Roddy’s moon. “How’s my little Moonie doing?”

This. This is what she missed the most. Being in the presence of Roddy and even coddling and spoiling his daughter. Just looking at Rylie’s face gave her baby fever, but that was neither here nor there. She could barely take care of herself. Birth control was absolutely necessary for Kylee because she had too much life to live. A baby would ruin that. So, while she could, she would vicariously live through her best friend and be the cool aunt. That did remind her. She hadn’t sent a care package in TWO WEEKS. It was long overdue. She’d need to drag Adam out shopping so they could buy Rylie a new outfit.

“Well she’s in love with her uncle Dusty, I mean even right now she’s given him the eyes,” Roddy laughed as his words became a reality. Rylie’s little face watched someone off screen intently, drool falling from her mouth. “Hey Dust? You mind taking her?”

From the left hand corner of the screen, a tall man emerged from the orange hued background. He was country handsome, with a wispy dirty blonde beard and hair poking out from beneath his ten gallon hat. “Well that ain’t no thing, come here sugar pie,” he spoke with a thick, melodic southern drawl before he reached down to the eagerly waiting child who already had her arms outstretched waiting for him. “I think your Momma has finished cleaning up your little party. Why don’t we go see her and see if she wants to run into town for a bit to eat? Huh? Would you like that? Yeah I think you would.” Dusty and Rylie disappeared out of the frame of the picture, leaving just Roddy.

Roddy took a sip from a cup he had sitting on the side before smiling. “So what’s new at home?”

“First off: wow, he’s fucking hot,” Kylee took a moment to gather herself, even adding the extra dramatics of fanning her face. “I always forget how hot he is and then woop, there he is. Cowboy hat and all.” Once she got her unvirginal eyes to focus on the boy on the screen and not on Lanie’s cousin’s husband (wow, a mouthful), she cleared her throat, laying the pillow down on her lap. “Too much, honestly. You know our home. Always something new. Today another letter came out,” Kylee revealed, frowning at the thought that letters were still haunting the town and likely would for the rest of the year. She needed to get to the bottom of this.

“Oh fuck!” Roddy wasn't shocked to hear that another letter had found its way onto the streets of Edenridge. He had thought about it a lot and imagined that there was likely a novel's worth of pages being prepared to float around town. Eden was a place of secrets and lies. Week to week it seemed that with every sun rise a new untruth was to be laid bare. “What is it this time? Beau fathered a secret love child with Miss Copeland? Principal Payne was actually the Tooth Fairy?”

“Actually,” Kylee pushed her hair behind her ear, as she shared the information she gathered throughout her day, “I don’t think this has anything to do with Charlie’s journal. I think someone liked the results from the Allison incident and decided to use it for their own agenda. I do think we are going to get another Charlie-knows-too-much shitshow soon, but this one, it’s more personal. This one hits home for your cousin, Clay.” Her eyes searched Roddy’s face to see if there was any sign of concern (she was grateful he wasn't a complete Robot anymore). “It’s about David. And the letter. Well it was a secret love letter.”

“Clay’s tough,” Roddy leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. Of course he was concerned for Clay. Hell, the idiot was more of a big brother to him than Francis ever was. He really had a good heart. “He might be thicker than a two dollar steak but he’s the best kind of person. He’ll get through this.” Rod knew that Ky lived off of this kind of stuff. He did too when they were the Scooby crew but times had changed and his priorities had to change with them.

“I remember this going around school, that David had a secret girlfriend. There was always a rumour with us weirdos that the Elite and the jocks would pick a target from the freshmen class to use as they pleased, be it sexual or otherwise. Like you remember how Reagan Ramsey basically groomed Natalia to be the next, what did she used to call it? The Supreme,” He let out a soft chuckle; what a stupid gimmick. “Then there was Mei and Sabrina Aviles. Pretty sure that chick is the reason Mei is…well Mei. Grace and Danny? If I’m not wrong, the heavy whisper at the time was David was seeing Caitlin. I never really questioned it because we might be cousins but we’re not really close.”

Heh.

Kylee rested her hand on her lips, deep in thought. It wasn’t like she could do anything about this reveal now. The storm was bad and if anyone deserved to have the answers to this, it would be Clay. She had her suspicions, especially after the talk with Jill and Mei. They brought her list down to two. Lanie and Caitlin. It would be quite silly of her to accuse her best friend’s lady but also if Lanie was as close to Allison as it seemed, Kylee didn’t think Lanie would touch the Elite. Not even with a ten-foot pole.

After her conversation with the dark goddesses, Kylee was able to break down the letter and see all the context clues. “The letter… the girl was someone that grew up with David. It made her seem absolutely smitten by her brother’s friend. A kid crush. She grew up hearing stories of him and his best friends. They were royalty. Obviously, the Elite. She knew about his relationship with Bailey Darensborg, which means she was connected to his circle. Maybe not directly, but enough where she could find out details about him, like any girl hard crushing on someone would do. He took her home from a party. The letter was dated the day after Allison OD’d. So it was likely that party. They went to a clearing, near their houses, a sign they were neighbours. Clay has Lamb. Francis has you. David with Jamie. Russ, an only child. And then there’s Rhett with his three sisters. See how stupidly obvious it is?”

“You’ve done it, Velma. You’ve solved the mystery.” Roddy was proud and for a moment, a feeling welled up in his chest. It was just like the good old days where the pair of them and his cousin Adam, wherever he was, used to get up to mischief and find the secrets behind Edenridge’s thousand-fold ghost stories. Memories. “Now what you do with that info is up to you. Why would Caitlin release her own love letters? Unless she didn’t and if that’s the case, who did it?” One answer had been uncovered but now the questions had changed. “Get your orange turtleneck on Ky, you’ve got another mystery on your hands.”

“I don’t think this part is my mystery to solve,” Kylee softly smiled, thinking about Clay. Someone she cared deeply about and it all happened in the course of one month, thanks to Roddy and thanks to Wes.

Wes…

Biting her nails, with the sudden thought of her boyfriend, she knew at this point she should expedite the process and break up with him. It was a no brainer she would choose Adam over Wes. Adam was only here for a day and had opened up to her in ways that Wes never would. Putting the image of Wes in the back of her mind, she decided, “I’ll call Clay in the morning. I imagine he can’t do much right now anyways since it’s fucking crazy outside. As for Caitlin, I don’t think she would. Share her own love letter, I mean.”

Caitlin was always a quiet one, who avoided her like a plague for obvious reasons. Kylee was a gossip, just like Mei was. Though, Kylee didn’t like gossiping unless she knew what she was talking about was true. She was a person who found out secrets. Not someone who lied just to get clout. “If it was her she would’ve done it years ago so the blame wouldn’t fall all on David.” Once again, Kylee had her suspicions. The person who likely did it was someone who cared for David with all their heart and that knew him incredibly well, to the point where they knew where he stashed his love letters. There weren’t many that would know besides the Elite, Jamie, and Lamb. “If I figured out this much, I’m sure Clay’s on the trail too.”

“I dunno,” Roddy shrugged. “I once saw Clay eat a Lego on a bet… he was twenty one.”

Adam emerged from the steaming hot bathroom as if he had just walked out of a Japanese hot spring. With only a towel to cover his modesty, the young fighter made his way over to Kylee. He didn’t want to disturb her whilst she was on the phone so he simply pressed a soft kiss to her head, not looking at the face on the screen. He breezed by and headed towards the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

Roddy’s mouth was agape. Either Wes had been hitting the gym or that was not Ky’s boyfriend. In fact, he looked a lot like… ”Kylee, what the shit?!”

The Mayor’s daughter was beaming red in embarrassment. She didn’t account for Adam getting out of the shower nor did she expect him to go to her and kiss her head, while she was talking to someone in video chat. She was smiling widely, not because she was happy. No, she felt so awkward that the only way she could show it was through a big smile that hurt her cheeks. She was dying on the inside. Using the pillow to shield her face from Roddy’s shooketh stare, Kylee tried to explain herself, “You… see…” She stumbled on her words, feeling like a little kid who got caught stealing. “Um, well… you see. Um... Adam’s back.”

“Adam as in my cousin Adam? The boy whose name was all over your maths textbook? Adam that was kidnapped by my lunatic uncle Thom, Adam? Fuuuuuck.”

Uncle Thom always terrified the hell out of Roddy. Around everyone he always had a big grin and that stupid ponytail. Yet behind closed doors, the six foot something man beat the hell out of Adam and Andy. He didn’t know if he ever was abusive to Rachel but he wouldn’t be surprised. Rod remembered the day that Adam “left”. They had been out for the day when they returned to the butcher shop to find Thom rowing fiercely with Roddy’s dad John. Thom grabbed his son and walked out of the store with Adam under his arm and he never saw him again after that…until now apparently.

“So Adam’s back and immediately you’re screwing him when literally last week you were telling me how much you liked Wes… actually no makes perfect sense. Adam was always your person. Shit, Ky,” Roddy really didn’t know what to make of this. This was too much to compute for the robot. His missing cousin, now found and in Kylee’s bed. Only in Edenridge. “Have you at least broken up with Wes?”

Pulling the pillow down, Kylee shyly glanced over to Adam’s bedroom door and then nervously laughed, “Funny thing about that, Roddy, my pal, my best friend, my home boy, my rotten soldier, my sweet cheese, my good-time boyeh,” Yes, Kylee was definitely dragging this out, knowing damn well she was a bad, bad girl. She did the big no no. It wasn’t something she ever did before but one thing led to the other and here she was in Adam’s apartment, wearing his shirt, having spent the past couple hours getting fucked senseless by the energizer bunny.

“Kylee! For all that’s holy! Spit it out I’ve got to take Rylie to a playdate!”

“Okay, so,” Now it was time to give him a mouthful. She hoped she didn’t lose him because of this. It was an honest to god— actually, no. Adam wasn’t a mistake. She would’ve likely given in no matter the time he decided to come back. He made her feel butterflies and it was hard to fight the pull he had on her. He wasn’t a mistake, but perhaps she could’ve… said she couldn’t right now. She was weak. Weak for the Adam dick. “I was all depressed today because Wes was not responding to me. He didn’t even say good morning. You know how that gets in my head! And it went on almost all day. Like, he didn’t even have the courtesy to send me an update. His car wasn’t in front of his Airbnb either so I’m anxious and at the library trying to research for the investigation. Okay, so,” Kylee kept her voice low, not knowing how she’d explain this one to Adam. If anything, he would feel like shit, “I leave the library, right? And in comes Adam out of nowhere, and he almost killed me with his skateboard. I could’ve died!”

Kylee with her dramatics.

“That turned into him spending the day with me, just like the good ol’ Scooby days. But that's beside the point. I had a late lunch date with Marco, but that turned into me kinda’ losing my shit because I might’ve been a-little-jealous-that-Adam-knew-a-girl-who-was-randomly-in-the-park-with-us. Like for crying out loud, she is supposed to be in Pinehurst. Why the fuck is she in Lyon Park? Welllllllllllllll,” Kylee caught her breath, her words speeding up by the second, before whining, “What was I supposed to do when Adam said he was in love with me in the rain? The rain part was entirely my fault since I was fighting him… I didn’t like that he had a whole life that I wasn’t a part of. Yeah I know an awful one but it still didn’t include me. And…” She pouted at Roddy, in a way that said please forgive me. “How do you fight a stupidly romantic confession in freaking monsoon weather by the first boy you ever gave your heart to and might have lowkey undressed in your head? Now… I’m-at-his-apartment.” Kylee ended her spiel with a deep exhale.

That was a lot.

Roddy placed both of his hands over his face and he let out a great yell. This was his best friend. This was his platonic puzzle piece and she was an absolute mess of a human being. God he loved her too much. Slamming his hands down onto his knees, the displaced Callahan began to laugh. “That is such a Kylee story!” Rod the robot broke his binary code and beamed from ear to ear. “You’re such an idiot. Ok as soon as you hang up with me you need to get in touch with Wes. Even if he doesn’t respond you know it’s the right thing to do. Say your piece and be done with it. Don’t drag this out or people are just gonna get hurt.”

Relieved but still feeling a little shitty, Kylee nodded and promised, “I will, I will. I know it’s wrong and I don’t want to hurt anyone but Adam is really hot,” Kylee buried her blushing face, still heckin’ embarrassed, into the pillow which muffled her voice, “He has so much muscleeeeeeee.” Not an excuse, but how could you blame her? She gushed at the thought of his physique. Already wanting to touch him more.

After she had her moment of talking about how much Adam grew, and how much she loved what she saw, a twinkle of sadness shimmered in her eyes, “Adam hotness aside, I just don’t know why Wes hasn’t texted me today. He’s already pretty bad at it, but he at least text me once. I guess this was coming because I’ve been really insecure because of him.” Kylee threw the pillow to the side and huffed, “I already found out he was a news guy from Pinehurst from daddy and from then, I started to notice how little he wanted to share with me. What if Adam gets tired of me too?”

There it was. As always whenever Kylee began to feel a certain kind of way, it almost always boiled down to the same root cause. “I could’ve called that your dad had something to do with this.” As much as he had tried to convince her over the years, Roddy never could get Kylee to admit fully that her father was a bad guy, even if he knew that she knew, the words just never made it out of her mouth. “Look, it’s more than likely that your old man paid Wes to leave and drop whatever story he was chasing. You’re his precious, no one will ever be good enough for you, like ever. Hell, we’ve been friends for years and he doesn’t even know my name! If Wesley was keeping secrets from you, I guarantee your dad found out and told him to get out of your life. That’s how he operates and has always operated.”

Rod glanced at the antique clock on the wall and sighed, “Listen I have to take Rylie out but we need to do this again soon, bring my missing cousin too!… Adam not Bronagh. Less Bron in my life the better. Mad as a box of frogs that one,” He drifted off for a moment thinking of his crazy blonde cousin before returning his attention to Ky. “You gonna be ok?”

“Mm, yeah,” Kylee didn’t consider her father getting involved. She should’ve expected it when he told her to be careful this morning but she had hoped… “Oh my god! My daddy’s SPEECH! I FORGOT.” Kylee was now in full blown panic. That was probably why he was calling her. She was supposed to be with him for that. Did it even happen with the storm?! “Okay Roddy, I love you lots. You go have fun! I’ll call you next Monday. I want us to do this once a week. So Mondays. You give me Mondays and I’ll be a happy Kylee, got it?”

“Got it!” He nodded. “I also won’t be having fun. I’m dropping Rylie off then I’ve got PT. Somehow the therapists here are harsher than the ones in Boston.”

WAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!!!

The screams of the child echoed in the old wooden farm house and Roddy cocked an eyebrow. “Well that’s me being summoned. I love you too, Kylee. Be careful." He warned, before dismissing himself, “Roddy out!” With a big grin and wave, he turned off the call.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Kylee was up from the couch rushing to the dryer to pull out her clothes. As a precaution she definitely needed to be in her own clothes, who knows if her father wanted a video chat call. If he saw her in boy’s clothes, Adam’s no less, she'd be dead. Deceased. Six feet under.

Grabbing her clothes, she rushed to the bathroom and slammed it shut.

Speed, she had to be speed.

Quickly, as she started the water, Kylee dialed to call Wes.

Her call immediately went to voicemail.

“Hey, Wes? I hope you’re okay. I, um, I'm going to make this quick. I think it’s best we go our separate ways. I thought about it and I don’t want you to get hurt. It’s not like you’re that into me anyways! If you were you would’ve told me more about you, right? I really had a great time, you know that? You and me? We were a fun team. Kickass heroes. Total nerds. Maybe this doesn't need to be a goodbye. Maybe this could be a see you later? I hope so... anyways, stay safe, okay? And do know I really enjoyed your company. More than you’ll ever know. Oh and Wesley. I did love you, like a lot. Bleh! Okay, I'mma hang up now. See you...” her voice trailed off, dreading the thought of what her father might’ve said to Wes to get him to leave town. Biting her bottom lip, she hung up and placed her phone on the sink counter.

Shower.

Call daddy.

Deep in Edenridge woods, there sits a small body of water, a slaughter swamp, hard to find by anyone who didn’t already know where it was, being pounded on by the thunderous storm. Within its murky depths, a mass grave of bodies, its latest occupant? Wesley Silo was already being covered by the moss and the mud. His camera smashed against his chest and his phone drifting out of his open hand, the screen lit up with his missed calls: KAYLEE, 3 MISSED CALLS. DEX, 1 MISSED CALL. KYLEE 8 MISSED CALLS.

Battery dead.

Walking all the way from Eastbrook to Westwood in the middle of a torrential downpour was not how Gavriel thought he would be spending his evening. The strong winds buffeting his soaked clothes left him bone-achingly chilled before he’d even left his own neighborhood, and the barometric pressure had his ears ringing off the chart, but he remained teary eyed and red faced with emotion as he kept his hands shoved deep into his pockets and did his best to ignore the gnawing pain in his shoulder.

JP had moved. Gone, out of their family household and across town without a single word to Gavriel beforehand. And they’d talked, they’d have a video call once a week at the least, so it wasn’t like the older man didn’t have a chance to tell him! All he could think about was waking up this morning with JP gone, missing his chance to see him on his way to see Niles, and then missing him again while he and Niles had been home having early dinner with those in his family that were home. Niles had left before the storm got too bad to try and ride through, and the conversation had still been light hearted at the time, but once the storm began to pick up Gavriel had expressed worry over JP’s drive home.

Only for Momma Robbie to reveal that he was most likely ’at his own place by now’, sending a jolt of panic through her step-son’s chest. He’d let his questions fall from fumbling lips and listened distantly as Robyn explained that JP had gotten an apartment in Westwood and had been planning on moving in for a while. Eventually her words became white noise as his heart rate picked up and the ringing in his ears rose along with his blood pressure. He stomped his way out the house, only just remembering to grab a jacket as his tunnel vision led him down their stoop and on the most direct route to his step-brother, the constant thought of he left me, he left me, he left me, echoing on repeat under the roaring of both the storm and his ears.

All of which brought him to here, turning the corner past Uncle Eddie’s house and making his way down Pleasant Street to get to the Pleasantview Apartments where JP now resided. He couldn’t stop wondering if he had been the final push, the reason JP felt he needed to leave and have his own space. They’d shared damn near everything since the day they first kissed in an alcove at Gardenview, and Gavriel had definitely had times when he worried he was being too invasive or clingy, but every time he brought it up with JP the other man calmed his nerves and reminded him that it was his anxiety whispering lies into his ear. Now he wasn’t so sure, and he just wanted to know why JP hadn’t told him anything, and what the final straw was that made him leave.

Pressing the buzzer for the unit number Robyn had given him, the still red faced Gavriel stood as still as a statue and kept his bloodshot eyes staring blankly at the intercom box.

Jericho wasn’t the strongest at processing his emotions, he was even worse at communicating them. Today after he left his mothers’ house, without waking Rye, he made sure to drown himself in work. He needed to keep himself busy. He didn’t know what made today different out of the rest of the week but he found himself needing to distance himself from the one person that meant the world to him.

His mom told him he stretched himself too thin, trying to support a town that would eat him alive. JP knew he was a fixer, a lover, and a fighter. He loved to fix people yet not fix himself. Every scar but his own. He made sure the lonely and the broke could find a home in him. He loved unconditionally no matter what walk of life the person chose. And last but not least, he fought every single day to be a positive light in this town. He fought so hard even while he was a heartbreak away from going into a horrible, dark place. All he had to do was let someone down and he’d likely succumb to the thoughts he battled every single night. Thoughts he never really disclosed to anyone. Thoughts that made him hate himself.

This wasn’t the time to show weakness. This wasn’t the time to admit he couldn’t fix everything, especially himself. This wasn’t the time to struggle by carrying so much weight on his shoulders. This wasn’t the time to be unhappy. He would bury himself in bandages before saying he needed someone to lean on. That’s just how JP was. That’s how he’s always been.

After taking a hot shower, since he did get caught in the rain, JP was quick to put on muted blue boxers, black sports shorts, and a worn out t-shirt with the Gallows logo on it. With a towel on his head, he opened his fridge and grabbed a beer can. He pulled the tab off with his pointer finger and proceeded to take a long, much needed sip. His eyes were dull and tired, a visible tale of his never ending struggle with insomnia. He himself was on auto-pilot, simply walking around like he was in a dream. When he heard the buzzer, he yawned, not knowing who would visit him this late. Before he answered the call, he took another swig, this time a leisure gulp (this was his sixth beer -- he had already downed five cans before his shower). Belching, he pressed the red button and answered, “Yeah?”

"Jericho," Gavriel spoke back, voice shaking with poorly contained emotion. His thoughts on what he would do upon getting here and his actual actions were different, as per usual. Just more of him stressing to plan for every scenario while simultaneously feeling there's nothing he can contribute to any of them to make them better. He can see why JP needed space from him, he just didn't understand the complete omission of this large step in his life. Has he been walking on eggshells with Gavriel since he returned home and the curly haired man hadn't noticed? Has Gavriel been too wrapped up in himself and his friends that he'd made JP feel ignored, or was he being too clingy and this was just going to make things worse? He was always so good at making things worse. "We need to talk, please."

There was no verbal response. Instead there was a loud buzzing noise which signaled the apartment entrance was unlocked. Back in the apartment, JP shuffled to his door, cracked it open, and made his way to one of two pieces of furniture he had in the living room. The couch. The other piece being his record player, not on a table yet, surrounded by boxes filled with music. He still needed to buy more furniture and decor but he was hoping Rye would help him with that. He was never really good at this whole interior design thing and making a room look nice. He wasn’t much of a stylist either. The only thing he was good at was making a captivating song. Beyond that? JP was mediocre, at best. With the towel still on his head, he fell back into the couch and rested his head by leaning it on the back of it. His eyes were covered by the towel and the can of beer was in his grasp, resting on his right leg. He waited.

Gavriel wiped his runny nose with the arm of his soaked jacket and yanked the door open, trudging inside with a shiver caused by both the storm inside him and the one raging outside. The fluorescent lights wreaked havoc on his tinnitus and by the time he got to JP's cracked door he was just a bit disoriented and quite a bit more miserable. He pushed inside but stopped right on the other side of the door after closing it, arms crossed in a clear sign of agitation but also in hopes to conserve a bit of his body heat. He stared over at his lover on the couch and focused on the visible part of his face: his lips. He didn't seem particularly upset or irritated with Gavriel's presence, no downturn of the muscles around his lips or even a pout. Just relaxed, slackened lips taking air in and out at an even pace while a can of beer sat in his hand.

"I don't get it," he started defensively, even more stressed out at the fact that JP didn't seem to be feeling anything much at the moment. "Did you leave without waking me to avoid telling me you were moving or because you thought I wouldn't care?"

“Neither,” JP cooly answered, sitting up and pulling the towel off his head. Glancing over to the soaked boy at his door, Jericho sighed at the sight. His emotions were unreadable even when he carried himself in a welcoming fashion. A light smile and a charming glance. Once he was standing, he made his way to his lover, sipping his beer as he walked, and dropped the towel on Rye’s head. In good ol’ Jericho fashion, he didn’t give an explanation. What he did do was ruffle the towel against Rye’s hair, drying as many strands as he could. “You’re soaked,” he stated, before downing the rest of his beer and tossing the can into the kitchen sink. He’d deal with the can later. With both hands freed up, he placed them on the towel and tousled Rye’s hair, drying as much as he could, “I can get a bath ready if you want.”

"What-stop JP, no!" Gavriel argued, fighting his instincts to lean into his lover's touch and pulling away while pushing the towel-and JP's hands- off his head. His eyes went to the can in the sink before cutting back to JP. "How many of those have you had, it's all over your breath," he scrunched his nose up and pulled the towel over his shivering shoulders before getting back on track. "You leaving? Not saying anything? I wanna talk about that, about why you didn't want to tell me," He glared at the faded logo of JP's shirt and kept a foot of space between them. "Was it me? Did I wake you up too many nights with my nightmares, or- or overstep with how many times I slept in your room? It's like everyone knew except me, so where's the joke, Jericho? I'm tired of missing the punchlines."

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Jericho exasperatedly muttered before stepping back, making the distance in between them more apparent. Closing his eyes, he placed his hands on the back of his neck and unenthusiastically responded, answering his questions one by one: “Six. It takes 12 for me to get drunk. No it wasn’t you. No you’re not the reason why I can’t sleep. No, if you overstepped I would’ve told you. You know I would’ve. And, dude, there was no joke. There was no punchline.” Suddenly annoyed, JP turned on his heel to get himself another beer, “Make yourself at home. I can’t believe you went out in this storm just because you thought I forgot about you.” Before he knew it, he was already at his fridge with another beer in hand. In a matter of seconds, the tab was off and he was downing his seventh, more motivated than ever to not be sober. This was ridiculous.

"Then why didn't you tell me," Gavriel persisted, dropping the beer debate with the trust that JP can take care of himself in that area. Not like he'd be going out any time soon anyways. "This is kind of a big thing? Like yeah it's not like you're moving out of town but I thought I'd at least get a little heads up about what you were thinking of doing."

The next empty can dropped into the sink and JP was staring at his boyfriend, his demeanor cold. Unfortunately since he hadn’t slept much the past few days, he was going almost three days with at least an hour of sleep, he was coming off more harshly than he intended to, “So you don’t trust me, great.” Yeah they weren’t going to do this right now. Not while he was getting more and more pissed by the minute. “I’m going to lay down, you’re going to take a fucking shower. I’ll have clothes ready for you in the bedroom. Before you even go inside, I want you to open that drawer right there,” he pointed to the silverware drawer, near the fridge. He wasn’t even going to point out the vase by the bananas that held Rye’s favorite flower. A single flower. “When you’ve done all that, then we can fucking talk and it better be in a way where you aren’t accusing me of whatever the fuck your mind is thinking of right now.” Opening his fridge again, he grabbed another beer, slammed the door shut, and strode away, not turning back to see what expression Rye was wearing. Jericho was livid.

"I didn't say I didn't trust you!" Gavriel desperately called after JP, but it fell on deaf ears as the door shut, leaving him huffing in frustration and dissatisfaction at still not having a straight answer. Of course he trusted JP, that was never a concern of his. JP was one of the best people in the world and Gavriel always believed and trusted in him. Something about all of this just felt so wrong and Gavriel felt that he himself was the root of the issue, not Jericho. Taking a moment to wipe away the tears leaving hot tracks down his cheeks, Gavriel took deep shuddering breaths and crossed his arms so that he was holding himself together. When he felt more centered, he sniffed harshly and moved towards the drawer JP had pointed out before his retreat. Inside was a small black box with a soft lavender ribbon tied around it, and Gavriel's face went red with shame as he pulled the ribbon loose and lifted the lid to reveal a shiny key with JP's apartment number engraved on it. He leaned against the counter to stare at it and once more his favorite color caught his eye. Sitting there in a wide ceramic vase with pebbles decorating the dirt top was a Hyacinth, his favorite flower, with a note tied around its stem. Tears continued to fall from his eyes as he turned the note around and read the single word in JP's handwriting on the other side.

Yours.

He thought of when JP picked him up from the airport, and they'd called each other Mine. He thought of all the times JP had whispered that possessive term in his ear in the dark, in the heat of passion, even during the times he and Rye were sleeping around with others. He'd never said 'I'm yours' in those exact words before, and here he had been trying to do it while Gavriel bitched about not being told of his moving. God, what a piece of work he was.

Another shiver racking his body had him making his way to the bathroom and turning on the showerhead. The shower he took was brief with most of the time spent letting the stream pound into his shoulder and relax some of the tension and aches. He wallowed in his shame and thought about how wired he’d been since that first day he returned home from helping his savta and found out about everything that had happened. It was making him more irrational than he was on a normal basis and it was risking putting strain on the few relationships he still had. It worked with Niles because he needs someone to get through his thick skull before he can see their softer sides, and that meant he needed an aggressive start. But Danny wasn’t like that, he needed his soft friend, Rye the jokester full of dry reads and sarcasm and willing to pretend for years that he didn’t know the dude was bi. And JP was like neither of them, only having ever wanted Gavriel to be his completely natural and neurotic self. Unfortunately, that included moments like these where the anxieties swarming his head cloud his rational thought, making him feel like a burden that everyone around him only puts up with, making him scared and angry and full of empty confrontation.

When he stepped out of the shower he grabbed the same damp towel and scrunched the water out of his hair before wrapping it around his waist, not bothering to wipe the fog off the mirror and look stupidity in the face. He shuffled bashfully to the closed door of JP's room, knocking lightly before slowly opening the door and casting a glance around the room. As if to add to his shame, there were light purple sticky notes around the room that showed his lover's constant thoughtfulness towards him. The wall next to the left side of JP's bed has a sticky note saying Sprinkles' nightstand? and another on the wall space next to the window that said Sprinkles' bookshelf? and at a glance there were at least three more sticky notes with reference to his presence in the room. He suddenly realized that the key wasn’t just for when he visited JP, it was something more.

"I'm sorry," he whispered from the doorway, looking down at his shuffling feet as he held the towel in place. "I was acting like such an asshole an-"

“Come here,” Jericho leaned against his bed frame, waiting for his lover to join him. He had a pillow supporting his back and had his reading glasses on, having spent the time waiting writing phrases that he wanted to work in his current song he was writing. He was too exhausted to actually pick up his guitar.

Closing his composition journal, with the pen inside of it, he leaned to the side to drop it on the floor (he didn’t have a side table yet, since it would need to match Rye’s). “Your clothes are there,” He pointed at the end of his bed. “Or you can come as is, that’s fine too,” he jokingly suggested. Regardless of how Rye would come to him, and what he was wearing, he knew Rye would come. He always did.

Despite knowing the offer to be a joke, Gavriel did little more than pull a pair of boxers on before collapsing into JP and stuffing his face into his chest with a shaky exhale. He wrapped his arms around his lover and held him tight, afraid of losing him while also fearing that clinging too tightly would push him away. Enveloped in Jericho’s warm embrace, he mumbled, “I didn’t see it, I’m sorry,” without moving his face away, hiding the shame he still felt in Jericho’s collar. “But please JP, why didn’t you say anything?”

“I suck at communicating and romantic gestures it seems. I knew the family would’ve thought I’d told you so they wouldn’t have brought it up. That bought me some time to attempt to be I don’t know, cute? Sweet? Lovey? Not enough apparently,” JP explained, locking those brown eyes that were hues of solid oak and polished amber with Gavriel’s soulful, deep gaze when the smaller man finally looked up. While Rye’s gaze brought warmth, like drinking hot chocolate by a hearth, his gaze reminded you of the Earth, keeping whoever that stared into them to the soil. A gaze that grounded.

“With Eddie’s stroke last week, I had to rush the process. I’m not even fully moved out of moms. I thought hey, maybe I could decorate or something, but where the hell do you start? So I got that box today, and your flower. Thank god because you’re fucking crazy. Walking from moms in a torrential storm? Why?” That was more of a rhetorical question than anything. JP furrowed his eyebrows at the thought before finishing his spiel, “It’s whatever, you’re here, you’re safe, and that’s what matters. Like you said, this is a big step and I was overthinking it. I just wanted to make it special. Sorry, I suck.” While JP never brought up his self-deprecating, self-worth issues, they were noticeable in the comfort of his room, especially from someone that spent plenty of time with him as much as Rye did. “I’m a dick, I should’ve just told you,” he heavily sighed, internally beating himself up at his failed attempt to be a good boyfriend.

Commitment in itself was a huge step for JP and with the apartment, he thought he could try to make them more an item, more of an exclusive thing. Neither he or Rye did the whole monogamy thing usually but lately, JP couldn’t find himself sleeping around and enjoying it. Every day when he went about his day it was Gavriel on his mind. Gavriel had grown to be his favorite lover to the person he wanted as his only lover. He couldn’t put that in words so for now, he’d take it one step at a time.

He wanted Rye to live with him, away from their parents so they could be there to hold one another, without prying eyes. The idea of changing their routine from brothers to roommates was what made this move worth it. Decisions could be made just between them and not their moms and sisters. This would be their roof to call their own and even though there are days that Rye could be frustrating as hell, like today, JP wanted him. He wanted all of him. The good, the bad, and the ugly. JP wanted to make moves no longer for the family but for them, as a couple. That’s why he wrote ‘yours’. That was the best way to convey his true intentions without sounding desperate. That was the best way for him to show his heart without struggling on finding the right words to say. That was the best way to assure Rye that he wasn’t going anywhere. That he was here.

“Hey,” Rye interrupted his train of thought by rising from his position to look deeper into those troubled eyes that somehow always reminded him of safety, even as they are now. “You’re not a dick, and you were trying to be sweet- I mean, it was sweet!” Rye cupped JP’s cheek in his hand and put their foreheads together, eyes still locked. “It was beautiful, really. I’m just going off the fucking walls recently. I’ve been in my own head and when I’m not I’m just bulldozing through conversations, for all I know someone tried to tell me and I didn’t hear them since I’ve had my music louder recently too. I’ve been crazy, I came in here like a raging dick and all you were doing was planning to romance me. Jericho, you’re amazing,” he kissed the older man like he was a roaring fireplace on a rainy winter day, like he was an oasis in a desert, or the first song that ever made him cry with overwhelming emotion. He kissed him with as much passion as he could muster, wanting to show him that hey, I’m yours too, before he said it out loud for the first time. When he pulled away, he took a second to regain his breath before continuing. Reality, they need reality for just a moment longer.

“But babe, I don’t even have a job, and I’m still a mess, like it takes the whole household to deal with my shit on the bad days. Are you sure-I mean did you think about this? I could start looking for a job but with my panic attacks and lack of degree or further talents, I don’t know where will even accept me…” The self deprecation wasn’t intentional, it wasn’t meant to get JP to feel bad for him and there was no emotional manipulation behind what he said. They were just facts. He barely graduated highschool, he hasn’t worked any more than occasionally helping JP out at MSM on slow days, and he’d never picked up any trade. He still couldn't lift much more than thirty pounds with his bad shoulder before the pain became unbearable, and he still had anxiety and panic attacks nearly daily, weekly if he was doing well. Gavriel was well aware of how much his mental health after the shooting had stunted his growth into an autonomously functioning young adult, and he never said any of these things to bring himself or those around him down. They were just the facts, just how the cards fell.

“I actually thought about that,” Jericho pulled away from Rye, getting off his bed to retrieve his backpack. When he got it, he pulled out a folder and handed it to his lover, smiling, “I looked around, talked to some people, and these seem like the best jobs for you to get your footing.” Dropping his bag on the floor, he took a seat beside Rye and gestured at the applications as the other boy skimmed through them, “Beau is always hiring. I don’t know if you know much about Penelope James, but he adjusted her work so she was strictly backend. The shooting messed her up too, but Beau’s been helping her slowly but surely. Yesterday she made my coffee so I think she is getting better.”

They went to the next application.

“Swerve Arcana is a chill place. Oz swears by it. If you want a place to be your absolute self, with no fucks given, that’s a great place to start and Avery is pretty knowledgable in all things nerdy. I think your classmate… Marco Brady? He’s in your year. He goes there all the time. Quinton Woods, also your year, used to frequent there too. Had a group called Midnight Society. All who suffer socially one way or another, but find adventure in each other.”

As he waited for Rye to look at the next piece of paper, Jericho absentmindedly started drumming his legs. When Rye did switch to the next one, Main Street Music, JP glanced over at his desk with boxes stacked on top of it, “You already know a bit of my job. Really, you don’t need to talk unless someone approaches you. And more often than not, it’s people asking where they can find an artist, or if we got a certain album. I can handle suggesting instruments and offering lessons, you can run the cash register, organize the records, and listen to music. Honestly, most of the time, it’s just me listening to music. Most people know what they’re looking for when they’re coming to us and it’s not like everyone owns a record player. We stay afloat because of the lessons we offer, online sales, and our loyal customers. The only problem with that one is,” JP grinned, from ear to ear, lifted Rye’s chin and gave him a gentle, tender kiss, “We’d have to behave.”

’Oh, we would not be able to behave.’ Rye thought, tilting his head a bit.

Mischievously, JP trailed his kisses around Rye’s face, showing him how much he meant to him. His worries from earlier were gone, at least for this moment in time. No one else mattered. It was him, it was Gavriel. It was them. In their own paradise, away from the world, in the form of an apartment. JP seemed to find himself more and more at peace now that his issues with Rye were being resolved. Communication does wonders when you actually talk. Too bad he wasn’t the best at articulating how he felt. It took a crazy Rye to get him to speak about his problems, instead of carrying the burdens on his own. Putting an inch between their faces, he shrugged, indifferent to Rye’s decision, just hoping he’d be encouraged to start walking in life, even if he still needed to hold his hand, “Whatever you decide, you’ll rock it. Hell, I can call Maya and see if Pietro’s is hiring. You have options and you have me.”

Their souls had owned each other at first glance, and no matter how far they stray they always came back to each other. Like clockwork. This was another case of their cosmic yo-yo effect with each other, and god did he love the ride back to the hand just as much as he hated the initial castout. It was time they lost themselves in each other for the evening, enjoy the ride back to the hand.

Reality could wait.

Giddy and nervous in equal parts about these new steps in life, Rye nodded and surged forward to kiss JP again, dropping the folder behind him on the other half of the bed while he pushed his lover back and threw a leg over him to straddle his hips and kiss him again. JP had never been leaving him behind, hadn’t even thought of it. He’d been making plans to take him with him the whole time. Settling on his lover’s lap and stealing his breath one more time, Rye pulled back and looked deep into JP’s eyes, basked in the attention and the love he felt there.

“I do have you, Apollo,” he whispered the nickname, tenderly cupping the older man’s face once more. His Apollo, his god of music, the one that brought light into his life and became his muse just as much as Rye became his. “Because you’re mine,” He kissed him again, capturing Jericho’s lower lip between his teeth as he pulled back before kissing him once more quickly after and locking their gazes. “And you have me. I’m yours. I’ve always been yours.” Even when he was messing around with Decky and the other serpents, even when he and Danny were having their game, and even in his darkest moment, Jericho Phillips-Shomer was never far from his mind.

As Gavriel straddled him, Jericho pulled him close, embracing him, longing for him. Rye’s petite body was pressed tightly against his, leaving absolutely no space in between them. Together, they were two lovers who ached for each other. Two lovers who always wanted and needed each other. Two lovers who couldn’t live without each other. This is what it felt to have someone’s heart. This is what it felt to be wanted.

While they might not make sense to some people, especially those who know what type of lovers they’ve been, lovers to many, they made sense to each other. They were brothers not by blood but by marriage. That was questionable, but not immoral. In all honesty, they got involved with each other before the big reveal that their mothers were dating, and at the time neither would’ve admitted how deeply they were caught up and madly whipped. At the time, neither would’ve held the other down, be it fear or simply not wanting to suffocate and trap. At the time, neither would’ve known what it meant to have your world become a person. At the time, neither understood what it meant to be in love.

Now all JP wanted to do was hold Rye down. Not in a way that prevents him from doing what he wants to do in life, but like a kite and a line. His Gavriel. His world. He was a creature of the clouds, just waiting to get back out there and fly, and JP was grounded in the Earth. They needed each other and deep down they always knew that. Without him, Rye would break from the line and float away. Without Rye, JP would crash straight to the ground and lose his purpose. His kite.

Grabbing onto Rye’s soft hair, JP roughly tugged at the curls, forcing distance between their faces as the smaller man squirmed and moaned, “Good.” He sucked on Rye’s neck, claiming what was his. In a matter of seconds, JP had flipped the boy around to where he was on top and held Rye’s arms above his head, holding his wrists down while the other man stared up at him with a heated gaze, “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

The rest of the day waiting for TNT as the signs of the storm slowly grew into the storm itself was filled by its own little cloud that settled itself over the Dawson living room. Ransom had called them earlier and confirmed that the wayward son was at Pietro’s Pizza with Mamba, so all that had been left to do was sit Tiffannie down and have the much needed conversation. After they’d explained everything, from his and Conan's life before his parents’ arrests to their time after when the Dawsons first brought them in. They explained about his IED and how Conan had been the only one that could truly stop the blind raging in its tracks. Demo explained in minimal detail Conan’s death and how it had left a dark scar on the surviving members of the Dawson house, while Molotov clammed up at the mere mention of their late brother’s death, his eyes darting to the liquor cabinet as Demo kept a firm hold on his jittering leg. They even explained how different he’d seemed lately, filled with a happiness that they were reluctant to report they thought had been snuffed out alongside his brother’s life.

Molotov glanced at Tiffannie where the other blonde was perched at the edge of Demo’s recliner, her gaze on her cards as he finished dealing for the first round of Uno. It was an old deck, and a few cards were missing, but they were making due with what they had. Their power had gone out when the storm picked up and they had candles and flashlights placed all throughout the living room and kitchen. The conversation had ended when the girl had still remained adamant about being in TNT’s life if he still wanted her in it, and by extension risking exposing herself to him in that volatile state. Tov hadn’t said anything since then, caught up in shuffling the deck his father had shoved into his hands with the suggestion they play something to lighten the mood.

This girl had come out of nowhere and somehow found her way into a very special place in his brother’s heart, and while he was happy for TNT to have found another person in his life willing to fight tooth and nail to be by his side, his no longer alcohol-laden brain couldn’t help but think of all the ways she could hurt him with a single look. A single shred of fear shown during his rages stays with TNT forever, leaves his brother feeling like a monster for his disorder instead of the survivor that he is, and if this sheltered, bubbly Barbie can’t handle what she sees then Tov’ll be right back to round one of picking up the pieces of his broken brother. There’s only so many times he can scramble to keep both his brother and himself intact while promising to do better all at the same time. Dealing with problems meant smoothing the bumps out with a cup of whiskey and gaining motivation to continue with a few shots of tequila, not riding off last night’s hangover and desperately restraining himself from any more glances to the locked cabinet in the kitchen.

“So, Tiffannie,” Demo spoke up, bringing Molotov out of his reverie at the perfect time for the older blonde of the group to take his turn, dropping a green reverse card over his father’s card and forcing Demo to lay another down himself. “What do you like to do? I don’t think my boy ever told me about a hobby or trade when he’s spoken of you.”

"Well," Tiffannie replied, neatly placing a green card atop the one Demo had just dropped onto the growing pile. "I guess it’s different depending on where I am. If you would've asked me this question in California, I would've told you that I like to hang out with my Mamma and my friends, going to the beach, the harbor, the mall, the thrift stores, DisneyLand, the food trucks, to get coffee or food, cheerleading and dance team after school…” she trailed off, feeling a painful twinge in her chest as the memories of her time in Los Angeles flooded to the forefront of her mind. The coffee and mani-pedi dates with her mom, the sleepovers with her friends, the days spent bathing in the salty waves and under the bright rays of the warm California sun, followed by walks down the harbor and laughs shared in between meals… Even with how happy she was during her hangouts with Chase, Tiffannie still missed her mamma, her friends and her sunny life back home. Staying in Edenridge had never been a part of her plan. When her parents had agreed to send her to her uncle’s home, it had been with the underlying expectation that she would be back once things calmed down and after they deemed she had ‘learned her lesson’. And yet…

“Most of my time here at Eden has been spent taking care of Auntie Silvia and hanging out with Chase. He’s made things so good for me since the day we formally met. I feel really lucky to have found him,” she told Demo with a smile as soft, tender and warm as the feelings she had for his son. Chase really had made a world of difference in the short time they had spent together. In the beginning, although she'd been grateful for the opportunity to bring some peace and comfort to her Auntie Silvia during the most painful moment of her life, Peach had desperately yearned to return to Los Angeles. But the more time she spent in Edenridge, the more attached she grew to the place. The time away from home and the people she’d come to meet gave her a different perspective, given her space to grow and prompted her to truly evaluate her plans for the future. In just a few months, Tiff’s mindset has changed from a spoiled, naive rich girl mindlessly spending her days hanging out with friends to that of a young woman who wanted to learn to be independent, earn a living of her own and live a life with true purpose… With Chase as her companion along the way. Before the blow-up, that is. Now she had no idea where they stood.

Pushing the intrusive thoughts aside, Tiff decided to change the focus of the conversation. “What about you? Chase said you were a mechanic?” the blonde inquired, visibly eager and interested to know more about her friend’s family.

Tov sent his father a sideways glance before returning to his own cards, wondering how the older man would reply. Would he just confirm her question and leave it at that? Would he give this girl a deeper glance into their lives since they’d already explained so much of Chase’s own to her? Even with their little conversation earlier, there was still so much that Tiffannie didn’t know about him, about them, and about Edenridge in general. From the sounds of it, she’d barely spent time outside the Belmonte residence aside from her outing with his brother this past month or so.

And her life. Jesus. He thought the Northie’s lives sounded pretty lavish, but it seems even they have nothing on the rich LA lifestyle. As a kid from lower class Maine, and then even lower class South Edenridge, he couldn't even imagine half the things she’d probably done on a daily basis. And for her to go from all that to having an introvert’s life, taking care of her sick aunt in some small cursed town in Massachusetts? Christ, he almost felt bad for her.

“Sounds like a tough change,” His father settled for after a small, respectful pause. “But hopefully you’ll be able to make the best out of your situation. I’m glad that in part Chase has helped out with that, and I think you should know that you’ve helped him just as much. I know it doesn’t seem like it with what happened this mornin’, but you’ve opened him up from where he’s been closed off for years,” Molotov felt his face burn with shame when he caught Demo’s gaze on him in his peripheral vision. The message was clear to him, even if the ex-serpent never meant to send it; Now if only this one could start climbin’ outta his own early grave. Tov picked his rootbeer bottle up from the table and hid his red face by taking a sip and raising his cards a bit higher. “And I just wanted to thank you for having that effect on him, even if you didn’t mean to.”

“Lemme just turn on the waterworks in here,” Tov mumbled into the mouth of the bottle, feeling a bit of his guilt recede when Demo reached out to ruffle his hair before gently pushing him away, allowing his son to dramatically rock back towards him on the return and playfully bump into his shoulder. Tiffannie giggled at the exchange.

“Anyways,” The burly man continued, not commenting as Tov stayed leaning heavily against him. He was well used to the blonde's need for tactile comfort and affection. He’d been like that since the day he truly realized that this was home for him now. He also knew when his son was overthinking something, and he was definitely a little wrapped up in his own head at the moment. He sighed dramatically as Tov laid down a green draw two after Taz’s turn, forcing him to add to his hand and cede his turn to Tiffannie. “I am a mechanic like Chase said. I picked up the job at Phil’s place a little bit after me and Fiona brought Tov in to live with us. He’s a good man, supports a few other families around town by payin’ us better than he should. If you ever need somethin’ done with your car, Phil’s is where to take it. He treats everyone like family.”

“He’s got a great junkyard,” Tov was still smiling at his play against his old man as he put his two cents in, thinking of the good times when their whole family would spend an entire day in Phil’s Demolition Zone honing their knowledge while also just fucking around and having fun. It was a great outlet for all of them, back then at least. He wondered if Tiffannie would be horrified by what their family used to call a bonding experience, even while knowing that she almost definitely would be; fire melts barbie dolls, make up, clothes, purses, he could go on forever thinking of how their pastime could destroy all the things she loved. Hell, he still loved his job as the Serpents’ main demo man but fire has taken what he loved too, and he’s got enough scars of his own to understand most people’s fear of the element and its unparalleled destructive ability.

But fires also kept you warm on winter nights when your gas was turned off. His parents, his biological ones, had never told younger him what present Oliver now know’s with a solemn clarity: Even when they were both employed they had trouble keeping on the utilities some months, and by the end of their lives they were jobless and soon to be homeless and they couldn’t let their son know that they were failing him so young, so they made poverty as fun and safe as they could for the child they were trying to keep in what had become a fantasy world. No gas meant the crumbling fireplace was finally used, and instead of it being too cold to sleep in his room, it was We’re going camping Ollie! Let’s all sleep around the fire! His love for the warmth and life of the flames had been kindled long before he was adopted by the Dawsons.

"I don't think I've ever been to a junkyard," Tiffannie mused out loud, placing a blue Draw 2 card atop Tov’s to skip her uncle’s turn and grant another turn to Tov. As far as she knew, junkyards were places where unusable cars were gathered, and people who needed their parts would go find them. With her Jeep being fairly new and all, she never had any reasons to even give thought to going to such a place. “What does this one have that makes it so great?” she asked Molotov with the look of a curious child.

"Oh, y'know, tons of old classic cars or just their bodies," Oliver answered, breaking out of his reverie and fully willing to help hype Phil's up at any time. "Our old buddy actually built a workin' motorcycle from scratch with just the shit Phil had piled up. It took like seven years, but he was also pretty busy the whole time. Plus the cars are stacked high and he basically made a maze outta them so that every Halloween he could decorate and have a little haunted junkyard tour for the kids," he dropped a blue skip card onto the pile and started laughing as Demo threw his cards down and leaned back with a huff. "The guys at the shop all help out, and of course the Serpents do their parts playin' the monsters and all that. I guess what makes it different is that it ain't just a junkyard, y'know? Like Phil's said, he made sure the community felt as welcomed in his shop and yard as they made him feel when he moved here."

"Awwww, that's actually really sweet!" Tiffannie cooed, offering Molotov a bright smile. The more she learned about Edenridge, the more endearing she found it even with the many flaws people often pointed out. "It reminds me of something I did back when I was at school last year. So the cheer team decided to do a charity activity around Halloween, right?" she began, pausing for a second to offer an apologetic grimace to her Uncle Tazzy before dropping a black Draw 4 card on top of Tov's and excitedly declaring "Uno!" while holding up her lone remaining card. "So we gathered up some donations, dressed up like popular characters and went to the children's shelter closest to school to have a little Halloween carnival! We set up some stations and did some face painting, pumpkin decorating, played some cornhole and other lawn games, gave out food and drinks and candy… The look of pure joy on the kids' faces and the love and appreciation they showed us was worth all the work that we put into it," she reminiscenced with a soft smile, getting misty-eyed as she remembered how sincerely grateful the children were, and how hearing some of their stories had both broken her heart and made her want to work extra harder to make the event as perfect as it could be. What were the odds that the boy she was falling in love with was once one of the children she strived to bring a sprinkle of happiness to? It was crazy how the world worked. "I remember I came home crying to my mom because I wanted to bring all the kids home with me!" she confessed with a teary-eyed chuckle.

’Charity,’ Tov thought with a hint of bitterness, wishing he could find her story as cute and sweet as she obviously did. ’I hate that word.’

“Sounds like you like to help out your community, Tiffannie, Edenridge could always use more of that,” Demo said as Tov went quiet with a static smile on his face. “If only y’all were that kind to your elders durin’ Uno games. Taz, care to join me on the porch? It's got some holes I haven't had a chance to patch up but it keeps most’a the rain out and cuts the wind down a bit.”

At this point, any escape would bring relief to the Belmonte patriarch. Playing Uno and talking feelings in such an intimate, close proximity, was not something Taz had in mind when he woke up this morning. He was good at telling stories to those that came by Palermo. He was good at giving advice. He was good at listening. But when it came to direct feelings of the heart, especially when it involved his family, he found himself feeling more and more uncomfortable by the minute. “I do need a smoke.” Standing up, large and in charge, Taz peered down at his niece and then at the young man who reminded him of himself before getting out of dodge, “Next time we play poker. This game is not good.” Relieved to join the outside world, where there was open space and fresh air, storm be damned, Taz followed behind the other fatherly figure, gracious for the offer of freedom.

When the door closed behind the two older men, Molotov sent another yearning glance towards the liquor cabinet and dropped a red two on top of Tiff’s card with the knowledge she was going to win. When she dropped her final card beaming triumphantly, he continued staring at the one he had left in his own hand for a long moment before calmly setting it face down on the table and resting his elbows on his knees.

“Do you really think you’ll be able to handle what happens,” He finally asked, catching the other blonde’s eyes and holding her gaze while the triumphant smile she’d been wearing moments before was wiped clean off her face. “When- not if, when- he blows up again, are you gonna be able to hold your head up and look him in the eyes and honestly say he can’t scare you? Puttin’ on a good Halloween show for system kids may have made you feel good-- it may have made you wanna help people more. But this is the real in the dirt shit that you’re fallin’ into. You know that, right? T’s been through a helluva lot more than most.”

There, finally ripping the bandaid off of the elephant in the room. And yeah, he was mixing up metaphors but sue him, he never thought he’d be giving these conversations sober so she was going to have to work with what she had. This girl deserves just as much happiness as his brother does, but if she ends up getting him so twisted up about himself after he explodes that it regresses all the years of work the collective Dawsons/Taylors put into helping him heal…Well, Molotov was still a Serpent, and you don’t have a job like that for as long as he and his crew have without the ability to weather whatever storm comes your way. Eventually…eventually TNT might be, well…not fine, but the love of his family and friends could help him heal. However, absolutely no one was ready yet to be taking care of a TNT that damaged and rejected; it had been so long since he got close enough to anyone else to let them hurt him with their fear. It had been so long since someone outside of the family had the chance to hurt him. He had to know that this girl was the real deal, that she was up to snuff with the trials ahead of her, ahead of all of them, if this lady and the tramp relationship was to continue.

“I didn’t know about it…” the girl defeatedly admitted as she dropped her eyes to the ground, lips puckering up in a sad, sparkly pout. She wished she could tell Oliver that she was up to speed with everything about the guy she’d been seeing habitually for the last month, but the truth was that she wasn’t. She had no idea about the horrors Chase had experienced in his past-- but not purposefully. “The one time I brought up the question about how he came to be with your family in conversation he tensed up and changed the subject so quickly I knew better than to bring it up again. Today’s the first time I’m hearing anything about his past that isn’t funny stories about you, your dad, and the people he considers his friends, like Ransom, Dutchess, Findley, Maya… I didn’t know how traumatizing things were for him, and it makes me feel awful that I didn’t… But that only makes me more determined to make things different.”

After a brief pause, Tiffannie looked up at Oliver, sitting up straight in the worn wooden dining chair she occupied. There was no longer sadness or shame about her lack of knowledge reflected in her face: only a fierce desire to prove to the young man that her intentions with his brother were truthful and pure.

“I can’t sit here and tell you I won’t be scared if I’m caught up in between when he has one of his episodes, because I haven’t lived it and I can’t predict how I’ll react to something I haven’t experienced. But what I can do is hold my head up and honestly say that Chase is the most wonderful man I’ve ever met in my entire life,” she declared with the utmost conviction before locking eyes with Tov again. If he had any doubts about her words, her eyes would reveal she spoke with nothing but sheer honesty. “When other men saw me as the blonde bimbo good-time girl I was trying to be, Chase saw me for the girl I am on the inside and for everything I have to give. He’s been kind to me in a moment where I felt at my lowest. He’s listened to my problems with genuine concern and offers me advice with my best interests at heart. He encourages me to be myself and isn’t ashamed to be with me. He’s made me smile until my cheeks hurt, laugh until I could barely breathe, cheered me up when I’m feeling down, feel these giddy butterflies all over my body with his little smiles... He gives me hope that even when life plays you icky cards you can still try to get up and make the most of your circumstances. He makes me so happy… He deserves all the love, happiness, kindness and care in the world-- and I plan to give him every bit of it if he wants me to. When I say he means the world to me, I mean it. I… I think I’m in love with him.”

"Oh Jesus fuck-" Tov spat out before he could catch himself, picking his root beer back up and gripping the neck of the bottle fiercely. "Did you just say love? I mean, Peachy, you had me with the other shit, because T really is awesome and deserves to have the fuckin' world. He's a straight talker and he doesn't usually give a shit if the truth hurts your feelin's, and if he gives you advice lord fuckin' help you if you don't take it and somethin' happens bu- nevermind, off track, I'm focused." He was not focused. His heart continued beating at a rapid pace while he thought about all the things those words could do to his brother. They could make him, they could break him, they could grind him into shards that no amount of glue could fix and Tov couldn't have his now-only brother in that state. For months after Conan's death, it had felt as if he'd lost both brothers. He couldn't go through that again, especially not sober. He hasn’t been an only sibling for a decade.

And despite everything running through his head right now, he still clung to the feeling of pride he got when Tiffannie spoke so highly of his brother. He’d made someone outside of their circle laugh and smile and fuckin’ hope. Shit, he’s got this girl thinking about love. It gave Tov a bit of hope too.

"Look, this ain't nothin' against you. Seriously, you seem like a great girl-- even if I don't understand anythin' about how you've lived your life up until now," Privilege and money hardly ever lead to good morals or a real sense of duty, so kudos to her for that even. "But I don't think you understand me," he rolled the soda bottle between his hands and kept contact with her determined eyes. People are always so determined in honeymoon phases of relationships, but can rarely stick around for any issues that continued after. "If you say shit like that to my baby brother and some shit happens, either between you guys, or to you -because hey, honey: you moved to Edenridge- and I end up clingin’ to his hand in a hospital bed or pourin' dirt over his fuckin' grave, it will be made your problem whether you want it to or not. I will protect that kid to the ends of the earth and we have bled for each other and our family. This is a dangerous town in more ways than T's disorder causin' him to fling some soda cans with his friends near. We all have dead loved ones buried here, so if you say those words you better fuckin' mean it and make peace with where that puts you in Eden's nine circles of hell. We've been keepin' ourselves together for years now, so don't think you understand what kind of havoc you can cause if you say those words to him and then react like scared prey when he explodes. I'm sorry, but with the way you've got him wrapped around your finger you don't have the same liberties with your reactions as a simple friend would."

He had to do this. He had to be harsh, and biting and rude and dismissive because if she couldn't even handle him acting like a jackass then she would never survive in their world. He didn't want her to lose her rainbows and unicorns and happiness, he didn't think anyone deserved to lose that, but there weren't many people that could afford to shine so bright in such a small, dark town.

As strong and put together as Tiff wanted to appear through the barrage of harsh truths coming from Oliver’s mouth, she knew the fight was lost as soon as he mentioned the potential harms that could come to their loved one. Gut-wrenching visions of Chase unconscious in a hospital bed, lying pale and motionless inside a coffin, a gravestone with his name on it, haunted Tiffannie like a nightmare she hadn’t quite woken up from. The mere idea of anything bad happening to Chase because of her was enough to shake her to her core with a fear she had only ever experienced whenever her father was on the field working a dangerous case. She had been so certain about her presence bringing positivity to Chase’s life that she hadn’t stopped to think about the fact that maybe she was wrong and it was all a scenario she’d fooled herself into thinking and her being with Chase was the worst possible thing that could happen to the both of them. She felt like a real idiot about that little speech from earlier now.

Maybe everyone was right. Maybe she really was as dumb and clueless as they come. And maybe falling in love was a bad idea after all.

The young blonde took in a loud, deep breath in an attempt to recuperate the air that had escaped her lungs with the visions of earlier. But before she knew it, she had buried her face in her hands and began to sob so violently her entire body was shaking.

“Oh Jesus Christ really?!” Tov exclaimed, throwing his arms out in astonishment. This was exactly what he was talking about! That easy to creep in doubt that had taken her over already. He didn’t expect her to start bawling, and he certainly didn’t know how to make her stop. And despite everything he said to make her face reality, he could tell that his brother was just as hung up on Tiffannie as she was on him. “C’mon, stop that, I’ll get my ass handed to me if he comes home and you’re cryin’, I’m serious!”

"I. Just. Don't. Want. Anything. Bad. To. Happen. To. Him!" Tiffannie wailed, sobbing between each word, her button nose red and tears streaming down her face. "I love him so much and he means so much to me and if anything ever happened to him I would just die!"

“Shhhh! Stop, don’t say that,” Tov said, surprised at his own success at keeping the snap and judgment out of his tone and keeping it level. He looked towards the porch and saw the lights of his brother’s car shine in through the window as he pulled into their driveway. “Look, don’t say that so easily, I’m serious, I don’t think anyone wants to hear someone say that to them, that they’d die. I’m just tryin’ to make sure you understand how serious things are. I know I’m bein’ a buzzkill but don’t go talkin’ about dyin’ and shit okay? And T just pulled in, so please just stop cryin’!”

Meanwhile on the busted porch of the Dawson home Francis pulled out his own zippo lighter, engraved just like those of his sons, and brought the flame to life. He cupped a hand around it to protect it from the wind and held it up for Taz to light his cigar, and once the other man was able to release the thick cloud of smoke into the wind Francis took a spliffed blunt out of his chest pocket and lit it before flicking the zippo closed and replacing it to its own pocket inside his jacket. He made sure to stand downwind of Taz so that the man didn’t get hit in the face with his smoke as the wind took it along, not minding the rain dripping through the roof just to the right of him. He took a long pull and held it for a second before releasing it, giving the older man the moment of silence that he was sure he needed. He wished he could give the man more, but he didn’t know how much time they had before either one of his little firecrackers appeared. Ollie didn’t seem like he was doing so great earlier, and Francis honestly didn’t want to leave him with the temptation of the liquor cabinet for too long, locked or not. And then he was of course hoping for Chase’s swift return while trying to have a serious conversation against the clock.

“I want you to level with me, Taz. Do you trust Chase with her, or all of us to keep her safe for that matter? You know her, do you think it would work- or, I guess keep workin’?” He’d never had to deal with a situation like this before. His son had never shown interest in anyone the way he had in Tiffannie, and Francis wasn’t sure if he had ever planned for this. Fiona would have. She would have had a journal filled with sticky note tabs to quickly get to each possible scenario, and she would have looked at him teasingly and gone, What’s wrong baby, you didn’t think to write your own? There’s no cheatin’ on these tests, and then she would have tossed the journal to him for him to read and by the time he got through it she’d have already had the conversation with Chase. In times like these, Francis beats himself up for not making her go to the doctor sooner, and he wonders if having their mother’s attention would have been better for the boys over his own.

“She’s a special girl, Taz, but you know what our lives are like.”

“This isn’t about my trust,” Taz grunted, as he blew on his cigar to make sure it was evenly lit. When the entire end glowed, he nodded his head in satisfaction. He turned the cigar around and drew in the smoke through his mouth, puffing and making the most of his stogie. This is what he needed. This is what brought him peace. “Do I think your sons, or you, will hurt my niece? No. You raised good kids. He might tick but he has restraint. You see it, I see it. And if he wants to make good with my niece, he will make good.”

Holding his cigar, Taz took a step forward to scan the neighborhood and take in the misty air. It was a beautiful day, even if it was stressful getting to this place of peace. Taz had a fondness for rainy days. Without rain, nothing grows. “Ten years ago. I don’t think I told you but it was my Vivia that found a dead body in the park. I made sure they didn’t mention her name. She was thirteen at the time. First child I ever got help for but she didn’t last long in therapy. She assured me that she was okay. I know she wasn’t. And still isn’t, but I cannot tell her what to do. She is her own woman.”

Taz stuck his free hand out to feel the rain, he continued, “Because of that discovery, you were able to adopt the Warren boys and try to put their broken pieces together. From what I see, you did just that. Not perfect, of course. What parent is? And hiccups because they are rowdy boys. But they are kind, they are wise, and that’s what’s important.” Turning to look over his shoulder, back at a kindred spirit, Taz gave Francis a rarity for someone like him, he smiled, “Tiff has Belmonte in her. She might cry too much and she might not know many things like we do, but she is a fighter. And she loves deeply. Something that could ease your burden. I can’t say if they will last but I know she won’t break him. This I swear. Tiff is like my sister and will feel the storm inside him before the lightning strikes. That’s how my sister was with me,” Taz went for another leisure puff and after he released the smoke, he motioned his hands around as he talked, “I guess I ask you, do you trust that you were a good father? Do you trust you taught him well to be good to her? If you do trust yourself, we have nothing to worry about.”

Francis wished he didn’t hesitate there. The shock of it being Vivia that found the first body that led to the Jawbreaker being caught was its own, and it was something he could process later. But here Taz was, so sure of their little timebomb family around his easily bruised peach of a niece. Francis could only help that he aged so gracefully, that by the time he was in his fifties he had the calm to weather the storms his children, and maybe even grandchildren, threw his way. But today, in the honest soft glow of the porch’s serpent green light, Francis did hesitate to answer. It had absolutely nothing to do with him not trusting Chase and everything to do with the fact that the answer to do you trust that you were a good father? is…complicated at best. Oliver was an alcoholic, Chase jumps forward and regresses at pretty equal rates, and Conan…

Then there was the whole reason Oliver had come under his and Fiona’s care in the first place. It wasn’t like the day there was a shootout between the Serpents and the Gorta Demo and Zippo didn’t have guns. When the Tomlinson family car got caught in the crossfire, bullets had already been let loose from everyone’s guns. Just because they had been the first ones to realize what was happening and call a ceasefire didn’t mean they weren’t also firing beforehand. Because of the strings they pulled to take care of him and later bring him into their homes, they’ll never know if one of their bullets were the ones that did it.

He and Fiona honestly hadn’t thought of bringing more children in so soon after Oliver but then their boy brought up the Warren brothers and they had just known that it was the right thing to do. The two of them, Francis and Fiona, making a home safe for children damaged by this town. Then it was just him, and it was Charlie Taylor and Kamilla Briteson, Phil and the guys at the garage propping him up when he couldn’t stand anymore, helping him pretend to be strong in front of his boys even when he couldn’t. And they’d seen through him to his weakness anyways, joining the same Serpents that Demo and Zippos had left a few years prior. They left the gang to try and show their kids that there were other avenues, and by the end of it he had driven his sons to feel the need to hit the pavement and lessen the load weighing him down, crushing him as if he were Atlas struggling to hold the sky. He would never regret the extended family his boys created for themselves, but he will always regret not being enough in the first place.

He had never planned to do this without his twin flame. The woman that had kept his fire burning after his parents died and they transferred from Fallen Angels to Serpents, kept their home warm and inviting to traumatized children in need of a guiding light.

So did he think he was a good father? God no, but he was doing his best. With no paternal grandparents for the kids and Conrad, Charlie, and Jade Taylor being their only other living relations, he was trying his damndest.

“No,” He finally answered honestly in the face of the man’s smile, scratching the back of his neck before taking another hit and huffing the smoke out in a short laugh. “I don’t think I’m that good of a father, but I trust my boys more than either of them think, believe in ‘em more than they’ll ever know. So I agree with you, Chase has a lot more restraint than anyone includin’ himself gives him credit for, and I trust he and your niece will do just fine together. With her in the mix, I think the southside might finally see some sunshine outside of Cernis’ grumpy mug.”

“Grazie a Dio,” The Italian man listened in understanding. “See, you don’t lie. This is a good sign. The only thing I worry about is your son getting my niece pregnant.”

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. TNT’s old Volvo parked in the driveway and the car lights went off. The two fathers silently watched as they smoked their chosen poison. When Chase got out of his car, the rain heavily falling, he went to the passenger side and took out a pink carrier with a white kitten inside, as well as a bag of Purina Healthy Kitten Formula dry food. Closing his car door with his foot, Chase rushed up the porch stairs. His eyes went from Taz to his father, before he lifted the crate, “Dad, I got a cat.”

Taz was distracted by the pink collar the cat was wearing and the pink crate. He couldn’t help but snort in laughter. Simply by this, he could tell: this kid loved his niece.

Francis’ final weighted sigh of the evening was one of sheer relief, and he simply shook the rain off his beanie as he shook his head and laughed along with Taz. He held the porch door open for his son and new charge and said, “Of course you did, Firecracker. Let’s get y’all warm and dry inside, you got two anxious blondes waitin’ for you in there, and one of ‘em is your brother.”

’He came back like always, Zip. You would’a known there was nothin’ to worry about in the first place.’

Driving with Megadeth blasting, Die Dead Enough, his windows down, TNT sped through the streets of Edenridge from Lyon Park to Westwood. Running through red lights, on a suicide mission, the explosive southie focused his sight on the ‘Pietro’s Pizzeria’ sign. It was far but with how fast he was going, the sign was growing bigger and bigger by the second. If a cop chased him, he didn’t care. If a car hit him, he didn’t care. If a person got in his way… okay he did care about that.

Lunch was ruined and it was because of him so all he could think about was, well, his brother. He could only imagine how this would’ve transpired if Conan were still alive. His brother would’ve gone in the line of fire just to break the distance. When he was close enough, he’d forcibly grab TNT’s head and make him look at him, right in the eyes. That’s all Conan had to do. He didn't have to scream. He didn’t have to say stop it. He didn’t have to cry. All he had to do was get Chase to look at him, really look at him, for the fire to extinguish.

Abruptly, Chase caught sight of a tiny white thing walking across the street. He could swerve around it but the street he was on was narrow. Did he have enough time? Seconds, it only took seconds to kill something innocent. Slamming on his brakes, likely fucking them up, even more so than they already were, Chase yelled, “FUCK!” He stopped in the middle of the road to see a stray cat walking across the street. Heavily breathing, he put his car in park, grateful there wasn’t any other car around, and got out to check it, “What the fuck!”

Approaching the little one, slowly, Chase aimed to grab it and get it out the road. Instead, the kitten turned her head and looked up at him, her big eyes wide. There was a long moment they both stood in their place staring at each other. Her coat was clean and her eyes were the prettiest of blues. Honestly, she didn’t look like she belonged on the streets. There was no collar, so maybe she ran away from her litter. He stood there, waiting for her to make the first move, and when she deemed him trustworthy, she was by his legs rubbing her fur on him.

Kneeling down, he offered his hand for her to sniff, and sniff she did. Scratching her ear, he ran his other hand through her fur on her back and noticed there were no fleas in sight. She was no stray. She was lost but she definitely had a home. “Hey, I don’t want anything to hurt you.” Hesitantly, he scooped her up. When he brought her to his face, she rubbed against him tenderly, lovingly, and meowed in excitement. “You remind me of someone.”

His moment was ruined by honking. Holding the cat close, he looked back and flipped the driver behind his car off. Going back to his vehicle, with the cat in hand, he slipped back in and put her in the passenger seat.

Starting his engine, he turned down the rock music, not wanting to make her jump. His vibe was kind of aggressive. Before he pushed on the gas pedal, she was quick to walk across the dashboard and onto his lap. Nestling herself on him, she curled up and felt the comfort of his warmth and protection.

“Well aren’t you just a little Peach,” he whispered. Smiling to himself, he went onward to his destination. When he was at the pizzeria, parked, he debated if they’d let him bring in a cat. He didn’t want to leave her in the car. It would get too hot. Sighing to himself, he took out his keys, scooped her up, and went onward into one of his safe havens. Taking a seat at a booth, he hid the cat in his shirt, thinking he was being clever, and waited for his friend to come by and take his order.

“Table 7: large pepperoni, thin crust, regular breadsticks, side house salad-- and don’t burn the damn crust this time, Toby! I swear to God if I miss another tip because of you imma whoop your ass with the pizza pan in the parking lot after close!”

The sharp-tongued, femenine voice of one Maya Barrett could be heard across every corner of the small, family-owned establishment. Upon first impressions, the average-looking Southie would strike one as your typical zillenial working hard at the hometown pizzeria to earn her dollars by serving her lifelong neighbors. But beneath the surface, young Mamba happened to be the best sales lady ReyRey Gonzalez had in his payroll.

Thanks to her enviable location, no-nonsense demeanor and blanket of protection that came with being the niece of Edenridge’s police chief and the stepdaughter of one of his officers, Mamba was responsible for 71% of the Southside Serpents’ cannabis revenue. She had started her career at the ripe age of fourteen as a high school student, eager to earn some money for her independence and the future. The hole left in the market by Charlie Decker made her transition into the business a seamless one, and her unsuspecting appearance made it easier for her classmates to approach and trust her with their purchases. Mamba had already been making a good profit at school, but once she got employed at Pietro’s, her earnings skyrocketed thanks to the long-standing agreement between the Santangelos and Gonzalez’ that allowed the Serpents to sell weed on the premises in exchange for protection. As it stood, nineteen year-old Maya was one of the most valued assets to the organization.

“Hey there, Boom Boom. Long time no see,” the young woman greeted Chase with her usual drawl, a mischievous smile spreading across her lips. The two young adults had known each other and worked together for years now as part of the diverse duo bringing only the best reefer and affordable baked Italian classics to the citizens of Edenridge, delivered straight to their doors. But most importantly, beyond their business relationship, Maya and Chase considered each other close friends. “Cherry coke and medium pan with extra mushrooms, just how ya like it?”

“I hate that nickname,” Chase lied, but she knew it was what he did. Truth be told, Mamba knew even more so than Fin and Dolce that he had a weakness to cute things. She had the best timing and caught him in the act of being cute himself, when he was around cute. And by that, Maya had awful timing and he hated it. “One day I’m going to die because of you,” He gave a morbid joke, especially in the town of Edenridge, with his mellow and low toned voice. While he loved cute things, he hated mushrooms. She knew that and time and time again, she was an absolute menace. A cruel sadist! The WORST. The texture was awful and it was slimy and gross. Why people liked mushrooms, he would never know.

Maya shrugged her shoulders, the smile still hanging on her face. “And the day you do, imma be the first one payin' my respects at the funeral, claiming victory in the name of them mushrooms,” the curly-haired girl joked right back. Just then, a hint of suspicious movement under Chase’s shirt caught her attention, and she immediately narrowed her eyes and pointed at the bulge settling near his lap. “Chase, that better not be some perv shit under your shirt, 'cause God almighty I will stuff mushrooms up every hole in ya body if it is.” she hissed at the boy out of instinct and impulse more than anything else. She knew full well TNT would never do such a thing, but the experiences she’d had with creepy, disgusting, testosterone-overloaded men throughout the years had led her to act first and ask questions later.

“Hey, hey! You don’t have to be so loud,” Chase grumbled, trying to settle the moving furbaby in his shirt. He bashfully glanced up at Mamba before looking around him, making sure there wasn't anyone being nosy. After a moment or two of debating inside his head, he heavily sighed, “Fine.” Putting one of his hands under his shirt, he scooped the small kitten out and protectively held her close, “I found her, and I didn’t want to leave her in the car, okay?” Part of him felt Maya was never going to let this one go. The other part of him was already melting the moment he stared into her eyes. “I couldn’t leave her in the streets either, she doesn’t look made for it.” Too many dangers out there for a small baby like Baby.

The second her brown eyes fell on the snow white kitten, Maya's initial aggression melted away into a puddle. The corners of her mouth turned downwards and her lower lip stuck out in a face her friend rarely saw her make: one of being overwhelmed with cuteness. “Oh my God! Chase! She’s adorable!” the light-skinned girl cooed, slowly leaning closer towards the kitten to get a better look at her. The small feline turned towards Maya with the cutest big blue eyes, curiously stared at her for a few seconds and let out what sounded like a little mew of approval. Grinning widely, Maya stood up straight and turned back to Chase again. “She looks so sweet… I wouldn’t've left her on the street either.” She gave another visual sweep of the dining room before lowering her voice to discreetly continue. “Listen, Boss is an absolute dick about animals inside the dining room. But I ain't no snitch, and he ain’t the one in charge today: Gianni is. Just make sure she stays outta sight from everyone else and doesn't make too much noise so I don't have to remind G of the dirt I have on him."

“I probably shouldn’t stay long either,” Chase absentmindedly ran his hand over the small kitten, who purred in happiness, grateful for the affection. “I did it this time, Maya. And now my dad’s cleaning up the mess I made,” Chuckling to himself, but not because he was amused, but more out of anxiety, Chase glanced down at the kitten who was now pawing his stomach. “No girl is ever going to like someone like me. Not when they realize I hurt people.” He gave a weak smile to Baby Peach, all the while scratching behind her ear.

Maya stared at Chase for a few seconds, her brow furrowed as she quickly evaluated the situation. In all the years she had known Chase, he had never expressed any interest whatsoever in the opposite sex. But a few weeks ago, she noticed him frequently in the company of a bubbly blonde she’d never seen before. He’d get closed off and shy when asked about it, but there was no denying the coy hint of a smile on his face whenever the girl was brought up in conversation. Eventually, he’d brought her into the pizzeria, and introduced her to Maya as his friend Tiffannie (who apparently shared the same initials as him but was nicknamed Peach). It didn’t take a genius to see the way Chase lit up around her, the pure delight Tiffannie radiated in his company, and how much they both liked each other. So what could have possibly happened for her friend to be looking so distraught and voicing crazy statements like how no girl would ever like him?

There was only one way to find out.

“GIANNI!” Maya shouted in the direction of the kitchen without warning, startling a few diners into a small jump in the process.

A young man with dirty blonde hair, piercing blue eyes and a strange resemblance to Gene Wilder came out to the counter. He wore his standard uniform of a white T-shirt, black slacks, a blue apron stained with the different ingredients he used for his mouth-watering creations, and a blue bandana on his forehead that kept the sweat of his hard work from running down his face. The locals would immediately recognize this man as Gianni Santangelo: the oldest son of Italian couple Buddy and Georgina Santangelo. He was to Pietro’s Pizzeria what Rhett Cleary was to Hole In The Wall: the heir apparent to the family business currently being groomed to take over once the stubborn family patriarch decided to retire.

“Yeah?” the man yelled back to his young employee, a hint of impatience in his voice. As chill of a boss as Gianni was, a guaranteed way to test his patience was interrupting him in the middle of preparing an order. Messing up orders or mediocre food was nothing short of unacceptable in his critical eyes.

“Large pan pepperoni, regular breadsticks, a two-liter of Cherry Coke, aaaaaand I’m takin' my break now!” Maya called out to the man, offering him an innocent-looking smile in hopes that it would soften his annoyance at her statement.

Gianni scoffed, rolled his eyes and shook his head. As irritated as it made him when his employees took breaks during rush periods such as lunch, exceptions were made when it came to Maya Barrett. Blunt and sassy attitude aside, she was a fantastic employee greatly valued by him, his family and the customers. The girl was such a hard, reliable worker who brought so much business to his establishment that it would be laughable to not grant her these requests whenever she asked for them-- which wasn’t often. “Large pan pepperoni, regular breadsticks, Cherry Coke two-liter. Got it.” he repeated back to the girl in his thick, Boston-Italian accent, giving her a nod of acknowledgement and understanding before rushing back to the kitchen.

Smirking, the young woman took a seat across from Chase on the booth and crossed her arms. “Alright, Boom Boom, tell me what’s goin' on. Did somethin' happen with the Peach girl? I thought things were goin' okay with her.”

Baby Peach squirmed out of Chase’s jacket. Before he could grab her, she shook her booty a little and leaped into the booth chair across from him, where Maya was sitting. The kitten found herself on the same side of her new friend and pawed the woman’s arm, giving a needily high pitched meow. Giving a nod of permission that Maya was more than welcome to show Baby some love, Chase clasped his hands together and bounced his right leg. “She was supposed to meet the family today,” and by family, Maya knew exactly who Chase was talking about. Minus her, because she had work, it wasn’t hard to know who Chase trusted.

Once you earned his trust, there was no way of breaking it, no matter how vulnerable it made him feel. If she didn’t have work, he would’ve extended the invite. It took an army to try to heal him from his past traumas, but it only took one of them to ruin years of progress too. Being in TNT’s life was a double edged sword, no matter how much progress was made with him. Committing to that wasn’t something you decided in a heartbeat, it was something you accepted for the long haul, knowing well enough you could be collateral damage. One did not simply stay with Chase because he was a good guy. No, one had to understand the repercussions of the days he isn’t at his best. The days he loses his mind. The days he explodes.

“I already lost it this morning after picking up Tov and Ransom from their drunk shenanigans. I think today I was just… more susceptible to things that send me over. Almost killed a man for sexual harassment. Then I didn’t get much sleep and when we were setting up for a picnic, I fucked that up too.” Chase looked away from his friend, his leg bouncing even more intensely as he re-lived his day so far. “I could’ve hurt Fin, Maya. I wouldn’t forgive myself if she and her baby… Tiff deserves someone better than this. I do like her,” He shyly admitted, bringing his brown eyes back to her as she carefully observed him, “I like her a lot, but she and me? We don’t make sense. Not really.”

"Don't make sense to who?" Maya was quick to interject in her blunt manner, hands occupied holding and petting the adorable, purring white kitten in her lap. "Unless you're poly, a relationship is composed of two people. That's the only two people anythin' needs to 'make sense' to. I mean: look at Ma and Mitch. Nobody thought they made sense either. What coulda stripper with no man who had a kid at 19 want with a single guy 10 years older than her other than his money, right? Them folks judged and said sum smart shit: Mitch and Grandpa Eddie wouldn't hear the end of it, and they put Ma and I through the ringer. And you know what? They had to choke on they words, because Ma and Mitch-- you know, the two people who 'don't make no sense'-- have been happy since day 1 and for the last 10 years, which is more than a lot of grown folk who were talkin' can say."

Although she hadn’t been in a relationship herself, Maya had never been a fan of people projecting their own insecurities onto other people’s relationships. What was the point of poisoning people’s happiness like that? She understood the warranted concern this particular couple might have about their different upbringings and life experiences up to this point, but that didn’t mean they ‘made no sense’. As long as the two of them were honest, shared the same feelings, values and similar views on life (or, if they differerred, that they could come to a mutual understanding and agreement of meeting in the middle), things would be fine.

“I'm not sayin' you shouldn't give it to her straight about your outbursts, 'cause any type of relationship is based on trust, and I think she deserves to know before making any decisions. But I also don't think you should give a rat's ass 'bout what anyone else thinks, as long as the two of y'all like each other, and are upfront about them things."

“Is it weird I’m--” Chase hesitated on his next word, wondering if it would bite him in the ass later because it showed a less masculine version of himself. It showed him to be weak and not a boulder of a man that is confident in protecting his family. “Scared?” Before he said any more, the breadsticks and coke were delivered to their table. Not the pizza yet.

Out of her peripheral vision, Maya was quick to notice the way her coworker Mark’s eyes widened when they fell on the now-sleeping kitten she continued to pet in her lap. She wasted no time in whipping her head in his direction and shooting him a scathing glare: a silent warning of how she would choose violence if he dared snitch on her. Mark swallowed hard, gave a quick nod of understanding, and hurried back off in the direction of the counter. Once he was gone, a satisfied Mamba turned her attention back to her friend and resumed her petting of the kitten. “Nah. It’s normal to feel scared. Shit, I’d say bein’ scared’s actually a good thing. It means you really care,” the girl mused, grabbing a bread stick and taking a bite.

Chase went for a bread stick too, hastily since this was his first meal of the day. Taking a bite, he chewed in silence. Once he swallowed and poured himself a cup of pop, he explained, “I’ve never done anything like this before. A girl like Tiff can get any guy she wants. Why would she even like me? I have loads of issues, Maya.”

Maya shot Chase a scolding look. “Listen, boy: you gotta stop puttin' yourself down like this,” she chastised him in between breadstick bites, pointing at him with the remaining piece of it in her hand. Maybe she was coming across a bit harsh, but she needed her friend to see how valuable he truly was. “You a good guy, and if she likes you and you ain’t never done this before is ‘cause Miss Peach saw somethin’ special in you that the rest of them blind girls in this town didn’t-- except your friends,” she added with a smirk. “And about issues-- fuck that. We all got issues, Boom Boom. All that matters is whether we choose to deal with ‘em in a good way, deal with ‘em in a bad way, or not deal with ‘em at all.”

“Yeah, I hear you…” Sighing, Chase was caught in the thought of his fucked up past and the scream of his brother from when he was stuck in… “I feel like there’s someone better out there for her though and say she does want to work something out with me. What if I hurt her?” Once again the mention of his fear of hurting his loved ones was brought back to the surface. People knew his character better than he did at times, especially when he was in his head like this. No matter how many times he explodes and no matter how bad he gets, Chase Warren wouldn’t hurt anyone he loved. Not directly and never intentionally. He wished he could stop himself before he snaps. He wished he wasn’t like this. He wished he had his baby brother back to remind him he wasn’t a bad guy. That he was worth a life with a house, a loving wife, a decent job, and a small family. That he was valued and capable of pulling himself out of his dark place through his own strength and power of will. That he wasn't nothing, or at least that he was something to someone. Sadly, a wish was a ghost, and Chase didn’t believe in ghosts.

"You ain't gonna hurt her, Chase. I know that," the curly-haired girl reassured her worried friend. “You treat that girl like you treat this sweet lil’ baby right here!” she said with a smile, looking down at the cloud-colored kitten in her lap. “You ain’t gonna hurt her, but I feel damn sorry for whoever tries to.” she smirked, knowing that any person who so much as dared to think of causing harm to Chase’s Peach would regret it for the rest of their lives.

She did have a point there. He would like to think no matter what he was going through, he’d never hurt Peach. As he contemplated her words, Chase reached into his pocket where his phone should be. When it wasn’t there, he remembered he no longer had a phone. Crushed and in pieces at Lyon Park. RIP. He was going to check the time, see how long he had before people started worrying about him. That was out of the question though, due to the incident.

“So…” Chase got himself comfortable, taking another sip of his soda. He reached for a second breadstick and cleared his throat. “Hypothetically speaking,” He ripped a piece of bread off, silently chewed, and continued, “How would you want to be asked out?” Maybe, if he knew how Maya would like things to turn out for herself he could use her answer for inspiration.

Although the young woman visibly perked up in excitement at the idea that Chase was so serious about Peach he was contemplating officially asking her out, old habits die hard, and she didn’t miss a beat in responding to his serious question with their usual sarcasm. “Easy: on a luxury yacht in the coast of Santorini with a candlelit dinner, a violin player, and fireworks going off when I inevitably say yes,” she told him, letting her words hang in the air for a few seconds while she took a sip of soda before grinning at him and giving him the serious answer he was asking for. “But for real tho, I’d like to talk about them feelin’s: why you choosin’ me, what you feel for me, what you want with me, things like that. Bein’ honest, putin’ all your cards on the table and just goin’ for it.”

Chase let out a light chuckle when she joked about a confession in Santorini. Something so extra and out of reach for people like them. Maya was one always cracking jokes. It made sense why she got along well with Decky and Sonny, two people with quick wit. Even if one of the two boys were awful -- Sonny wasn’t a likable guy -- he was glad that Maya had her people she could be herself with wholeheartedly. He’d like to think he was one of them too, in a sense. One of her most trusted platonic friends. She didn’t give him a reason to question their friendship and honestly, she helped ease his worry which not many people were capable of doing. “That’s a lot of… talking, Mamba. Too much for the average guy. About feelings, I mean.”

Chase wouldn’t even know how to articulate his emotions in great detail like that. He could barely talk about his brother. What made him think he could talk about what his heart wanted. “How about this, hypothetically. The guy does say he likes you and then he just goes for it. Gives you a kiss and sees where that takes him. You. Them. That could go one of two ways, but whichever way it went, he’d get an answer. How would that make you feel? Hypothetically speaking.”

As serious as she knew this conversation was, Mamba couldn’t help the way her eyebrows rose at what Chase was implying, at the same time an amused, suggestive smirk lit up her face. Ever since she was a child, Maya had always had a problem with her impulsive facial expressions being the window to her thoughts and emotions. They had gotten her into plenty of trouble growing up, but her friends had grown to appreciate her transparency over the years. She just hoped her expression wouldn’t put her raven-haired friend off. “Well I’ll tell ya right now that if it’s a slow, saucy, deep kiss, there ain’t gonna be much talkin’ after that with me. And that ain’t a hypothesis: that’s a guarantee,” the girl replied, that knowing smirk still plastered on her face. “Take that as you will.”

No longer with a breadstick in hand, Chase leaned in his chair and crossed his arms, taken aback by her hint. He wasn’t an idiot. He knew what she was implying. If his fingers weren’t greasy, he’d be covering his mouth and looking like the Socrates statue, deep in thought when the reality was he was playing out the scene of his grand confession. Every right and wrong turn he could take, but all leading to the same end: nothing. Chase didn’t know how things would end because he had no idea what he was doing.

Chase didn’t confess. Chase didn’t date. Chase hadn’t even kissed a girl before and here he was trying to impress a Northie who could get just about any person she wanted, if she really wanted to. Maybe this was too fast, too daring. He didn’t want to push Tiff away by forcing himself on her, coming off too strong, or just sucking at kissing. He didn’t want to risk losing her solely because he was inexperienced. Chase never liked someone like he liked Tiff and it was not something he knew how to carry. It was fragile. Easily cracked. Shattered. Broken. Something that required gentle care. He didn’t want to get ahead of himself if it meant he might lose her. How was a sensual kiss a guarantee when he didn’t even know how to kiss? “Yeah no, these hypothetical scenarios aren’t worth thinking too deep into. I think I’ll start off by saying sorry. Sorry for fucking up our date and running off. How’s that sound?”

Maya nodded in encouragement. “See! There ya go! That’s a good start!” she replied enthusiastically while consuming another breadstick, confirming that Chase was indeed on the right path. “Anythin’ else?”

“Fuck, enough about me, how’s things been with you? Also, hold that thought,” Chase adjusted himself, straightening his posture and cleaning his fingers with a napkin, “Where’s my Peach?” Chase didn’t hear meowing and was worried she had run off to the kitchen. He didn’t want to look under the table because that was rude to do, especially when the person sitting across from it was that of the opposite gender. Maybe she had fallen asleep? God, he hoped so.

“Your Peach?” Maya repeated, her shit-eating smirk striking once again. Chase was so smitten about this girl-- if you didn’t see it from a mile away, this was definitive proof of how deep his feelings really went. “You named the kitten after Tiffannie?”

But before she could tease her friend any further, Mark arrived at their booth, carrying the star of the show in his hands: their delicious pizza, made with fresh ingredients and served to their table straight out of the oven. Once Mark had left, the freckled girl gave her friend a genuine smile. “There you go: a large pan with pepperoni and not a mushroom in sight. You’re welcome. Now you can’t ever say I don’t love you.”

Everything was so fucked.

Very. Very fucked.

It hadn’t even been twenty minutes since Mika left Anya and in those twenty minutes, on top of so much shit that was going through his head, Mika was drenched in a downpour. The storm had been on the horizon all fucking day and now it was here -- or at least, it was almost here. Mika wasn’t any meteorologist and he never will be, but even he could predict that soon enough, this would go from manageable to you-better-hope-you-have-good-home-insurance levels of wetness.

As he drove down Carlisle Avenue and went to the closest place that he could dry up at, Mika texted Ley he was stopping by. About five minutes after the fact, he stepped through the doors of the Gonzalez home as he unlocked it with the spare key he had, greeting the serpents that were standing guard. He didn’t live there full time, but he spent a good amount of time at the place he’d called home since he came to live in Edenridge. Soaked beyond belief, Mika took off his jacket, carried it with him upstairs and went straight for the bathroom. What he needed now was a shower. It had been bad enough that Danny thought he stank, but thanks to the rain, that only intensified.

During the time he spent in the shower, it wasn’t spent just trying to clean himself up. Truth be told, he finished that in the first half, yet the water kept running. Honest to the god that Mika seldom believed in or even acknowledged, he couldn’t stop thinking about his conversation with anya and what she had said about their brother. Hyde was watching him. Did that mean he knew he saw him go to Cece’s? Is that what Anya meant by ‘brother is watching’? He had to assume that was the case. Anya was concerned and Mika was terrified.

And then he told Anya he would protect Cece. What an idiot he was! Mika made such a declaration to Anya and he believed it. Of course, he meant it too, but that didn’t matter because he said it and now he had to make it happen. But what was he actually going to do? Protect her how? Every time Hyde came within five meters of him, Mika receded back into the scared kid who just wanted acknowledgement from someone and Hyde fit that bill to a T. For a time, their relationship was something Mika cherished above all else. An older brother that didn’t treat him like trash and maybe the blood tie was a big part of it too. ReyRey had always been good to him, but during a time when Mika was most angry at the world and at the place he was thrown into, Cameron Hyde was the only person that made any sense to him.

But now? Now he presented a danger to everything he held dear. His family - both the one who took him in and the ones he was blood related to - were in danger. Cece was in danger. His Southside friends, if they got in the way (they were naturally nosey and protective, so if they thought Mika was in any danger, they would) were in danger. Everyone that Mika held close to his heart was in danger. How could he be so foolish? So careless?

“Because you’re an idiot. That’s why.” Looking at himself in the mirror, Mika wanted to punch. He wanted to break the mirror, make him see the fractured reflection of himself that he felt like, but he couldn’t. As shitty as he felt right now, he still had the respect for Momma G and her home to not ruin any of her property.

So he just got dressed and left the bathroom. The light was turned off and Mika found himself brushing shoulders with Ley as he walked past her. “Sorry. Bathroom’s all yours if ya want it.” Mika muttered in a low tone, not waiting for her to even respond.

Aleyda, who had been enjoying some much-needed time alone after Big Rey and Lupe had taken Raf to a baseball game in Boston, felt her heart jump up to her throat at the sound of the front door of her parents’ house opening and closing followed by footsteps going up the stairs. She’d had her hand poised on the pistol she kept in her nightstand drawer, body tensed up and ready to feed the intruder some bullets, before she remembered Mikhail’s warning message from five minutes before. Letting out a sigh of relief, Ley closed the drawer back up and waited for her brother to get out of the bathroom so she could strike up some conversation with him. However, instead of greeting her or even acknlowedlging her, Mika brushed her shoulder, apologized for hogging the bathroom and walked away before she could even speak. In fact, he was already on his way downstairs when he heard the faint volume of her voice.

“Did you just say you were sorry?” Ley repeated incredulously, staring at Mika’s figure as it retreated down the stairs of the family home. She chased after him and leaned over the banister to continue the conversation whether her brother wanted to or not. “Did you fall and hit your head on something? Are you feeling okay?”

Mika made it as far as the kitchen. Despite all of his thoughts and what was plaguing him currently, that didn’t affect his walking speed. By the time Ley caught up with him, he was in the process of popping off the cap of a Modelo (the only brand of beer Big Rey seemed to buy). As Ley spoke, he almost chuckled. “...Or something,” he remarked, remembering the exact moment he fell face-first on Cece’s floor. Probably another reason why he felt like he was getting the worst migraine in his entire twenty years of living. “Why do you ask? Do I not seem fine?” He brushed off most of her concern as he took a large sip as he leaned his back against the counter.

Aleyda, who had raced down the stairs and reached the kitchen in record time (chasing after a very energetic two year-old was reaping its benefits), raised her signature defiant eyebrow in his direction. “Because in the twenty years that I’ve known you and the six years I’ve lived with you, you have never apologized for something like hogging up the bathroom before. The only times you ever apologize is when you fuck up something beyond belief,” the brunette declared in her usual blunt demeanor. Her words weren’t coming from a place of malice or with ill intentions-- she was just stating the facts. “So how about we cut the small talk and get straight to it like we always do. Tell me what’s bothering you, Mika.”

Looking at Ley, Mika tried to not let it slip past his eyes that she was right. He never did apologize and he certainly didn’t even remember he did. Probably one of those out-of-body scenarios where he said it but didn’t realize he did. It made sense because, again Ley was right and he wasn’t acting like himself. He sure as hell didn’t feel like himself. It seemed like everything in his life was piling up on top of each other and no amount of time spent in the shower reflecting on it, avoiding talking about it, and even drinking some crappy beer could change the fact that Mika was struggling and he needed to talk to somebody.

But the things he needed to talk about without feeling judged, he couldn’t say them to Ley.

But she was the only person here.

With a series of fast gulps, Mika finished the beer and set the empty bottle on the counter. “You mean aside from the fact that I was drenched in the heavy downpour outside?” There he went trying to avoid it again. “Got kinda soaked out there, which ruined my plan to stay dry.”

“Don’t try to downplay or change the subject! We both know that doesn’t work on me,” Aleyda reminded her brother in a sharp tone as she took to standing in front of him and staring him down-- a hint of her old, fearless personality shining though. The members of the Gonzalez family were stubborn in nature: once they were onto something, they wouldn’t back down until they saw it through. She also knew that the deeper Mika sunk her feet onto the ground when refusing to speak about a subject, the more the topic bothered him. “You don’t just walk in here making a beeline for the fridge and chugging a Modelo down as if you've been thirsty for years and tell me it's because a few raindrops fell on your clothes. Something is bothering you, and you know I'll smack whatever it is out of you if you don't stop playing games with me and let me help you."

God, he hated when she was right. He hated when she could read him like a book that had the assistance of a narrator telling her everything. Mika couldn’t hide anything from her. Not when he was seeing Natalia, not when he was dating Cece in secret. It wasn’t always a bad thing that she was so perceptive. Growing up on the southside, you had to be alert to bullshit. That was one of Ley’s superpowers that were usually working for. Well, not this time. She was using her powers for evil and Mika stood no chance against them.

Frustrated beyond more than what was happening right now, Mika sighed out, drawing the anticipation mostly because he didn’t know how to address it. Telling her what was bothering him never had been an issue for Mika, but this specific thing, especially with Hyde, that he couldn’t admit to no matter what. He had to make sure of it, but there was a lot more. “Fine, you’re right - as always - there is something going on.” That felt like venom from the Viper in front of him coming out of his mouth. “You know about these new letters making waves? The ones talking about David O’Hara?”

“Yeeeeeaaaaah?” the woman said slowly, leaning against the kitchen counter with a hand on her hip.

“The letters were written by someone.” As he spoke, he could feel his stomach already start to twist. “Someone who was close to David, but not just…close. They loved him. Not in some crush way, but they loved him with all their heart. And because of some misunderstanding, his reputation was ruined. Called him a pedo, child-diddler. He made a mistake, sure, and he wasn’t perfect-- but to drive him to his own death? They drag his name through the mud and now it’s happening to a person who doesn’t deserve it. All she did was love a guy who was a few years older. She wrote letters and now they’re being used against her. Being sent to people in town. And for what?”

Mika was angry and visibly so. He hated this so much. Hated that someone was going after Cece and they didn’t know who it was. Didn’t know who was doing this not just to her, but to David’s parents and Mika’s uncle and aunt. They were doing this to them and he couldn’t do a damn thing to help because this was all a big secret. Of course, not without reason. Hyde always presented a danger. Even now.

Aleyda pursed her lips together into a tight line. It was obvious that the letter situation was having a big impact on her brother-- although the reason why it could be was escaping her. As far as she knew, Mika had never been close to David O’Hara. They hadn’t run in the same social circles, they hadn’t played on the team at the same time, and she couldn’t think of any way in which the two could have shared any interactions meaningful enough to get him so fired up about the subject. The logical explanation, of course, was that the author of the letter in question was the actual root of his concern. When Ley thought about the women in Mika’s life who could fit the profile he was describing and who could elicit this type of reaction from him, she came up with only two names: Natalia Belmonte and Caitlin Cleary.

“I’m assuming the girl who wrote the letters is someone you care about?” the brunette inquired, her demeanor beginning to soften with concern for Mika. Maybe her question would help persuade him to reveal the girl’s identity so she could give the advice that was most fitting for each scenario.

Yeah, you could say that.

Mika didn’t think it would be this difficult, but then again, he was never that great at expressing himself in a way that made him vulnerable. Only two people in his life ever got to see that side of him: his mother and Cece. For all the bickering that happened between them, Mika always felt comfortable when talking to Aleyda. He never had an older sister until he was adopted into the Gonzalez family. He trusted her with more about himself than he did with anyone. Even Rey Rey, for as important of a person to him as he was, didn’t see certain sides of Mika.

But Ley was different. She knew about him and Caitlin. She had always known, but she didn’t know this. Nobody but him and Danny knew.

“You’ve always been more aware of things than I have been, Ley.” Mika said that with a smile. “It’s an annoying habit of yours. Even now, you could see through my bullshit. So I’m sure you have a good idea about who the writer of these letters are. I mean, you’ve read them: they don’t sound like Natalia, do they?” Mika chuckled, while Aleyda’s mouth broke into a little smile as she shook her head. Natalia could be soft when she wanted to be, but not that soft. “I kind of wish it were Natalia. I think she’d be able to handle herself better, but Cece? She doesn’t deserve any of this.” He felt himself seeing red the more he thought about what this was doing to her. “So you’re absolutely right. Cece is someone I care about. Someone I have always cared about and neither she nor the O’Hara’s deserve this being dredged up again. It was bad enough that this town turned their back on David in the first place.” Mika gripped the countertop as hard as he could, absentmindedly not realizing that he was gripping it with enough force to partially crack it.

No wonder he was taking things so seriously…

From the very first time Aleyda had become aware of Caitlin’s role in Mika’s world, she had witnessed how the redhead’s presence had been a positive influence in her brother’s life. Sometime after March of 2018, Ley had noticed Mika’s demeanor starting to change. He continued to be the same little shit he always was, but he seemed more chipper than usual, easier to get along with, and sporting a smile more frequently. On his birthday, Ley remembered him coming home later than what he’d agreed on with her parents-- but even with Lupe and Big Rey fussing at him and being annoyed about it, the biggest, brightest, dumbest grin plastered on the boy’s face never faltered. Later that night, after some poking and prodding from her, the Zima boy had coyly admitted that he’d spent his time with a girl he'd really, really liked for some time now.

That summer, she’d met the girl by accident when Mika tried to sneak her into the house thinking nobody was home. The short, shy, unassuming redhead with jewel-colored eyes and small freckles on her face immediately blushed scarlet at being caught in a compromising position, hiding behind Mika’s taller frame while Ley snickered at her visible annoyance in her younger brother’s face. The Mexican girl had recognized her instantly as Caitlin Cleary: one of her former underclassmen cheerleading teammates. After reassuring them that their secret was safe, she earned their trust, and they continued to cross paths throughout the length of the liaison. And the more she witnessed glimpses of the interactions between Mika and Caitlin, she knew that what they shared was a tender, genuine, caring kind of love… A love she could only dream of experiencing herself.

Caitlin was a kind girl with a caring soul and a huge heart that had brought so much joy to Mika during their time together. He was absolutely right: she definitely didn’t deserve for anyone to bring this kind of anguish to her life.

"Okay, so Cece was in love and probably dating David O'Hara at some point,” the dark-haired woman mused aloud, going over what Mika had just disclosed and matching it to the contents of the letter she’d tossed hours before, what the rumor of the mill was and what she knew about Cece’s current situation. “How is that even relevant to anything happening right now? David’s been dead for years.” A possible motive suddenly came to her in the form of social media posts the redhead had been consistently tagged in for weeks now. “Do you think it’s ‘cause she’s dating the doctor’s son or something?”

“I don’t know…” Mika fell silent as he looked down at the ground, clearly having multiple things run through his mind all at the same time.

In any normal circumstance, Mika’s reaction at even thinking about Niles SInclair would be a nasty one. All for the wrong reasons, of course. Mika interjected himself back into Cece’s life last month and all because why? He just wanted to be back in her life. Didn’t matter how much he hurt her in the past or how much he was hurting her in the present. And then there was the matter of him making things worse by saying some pretty hurtful things. Definitely not Mika’s finest hour. But that didn’t change that Mika never did like Niles.

Mika had to learn to not feel bothered that Sinclair was her boyfriend now. He had to make his peace with that. He was in a good place with Cece, but at the same time, maybe it was too good of a place. The more he thought about Niles and Cece together, the more it made him sick to his stomach. Again, for all the wrong reasons. He came pretty close to crossing a line he shouldn’t have thought about crossing, but with the letters and now David being involved and how Cece spoke about him and then what she elaborated on about their relationship.

Mika was overwhelmed with thoughts he couldn’t explain. About Cece. About David. About Coach. Everything that seemed to happen in the past twelve hours alone, it was too much. And Mika felt like he was nearing some kind of breaking point. “I don’t know if Sinclair has anything to do with this. Maybe or maybe it’s not even about him. What I do know is you’re wrong about David. But it’s relevant. He is relevant. He’s relevant to Cece, to the letter she wrote to him that’s being used against her, and he’s relevant to me.” As he spoke, Mika could feel it - the control of his emotions - slipping and he wasn’t able to do anything about it. He was past a point of trying to hide it. Everything that he had to experience today, everything that he found out: the extent of Cece’s relationship with David, Danny, Coach, Anya explaining that Hyde is watching him. He just couldn’t take it anymore.

Aleyda could tell that Mika was succumbing to whatever weight was crushing his shoulders. His posture, his death grip on the countertop, the way he was avoiding eye contact… Losing control of his emotions like this wasn’t something he did often-- only when he was under extreme distress, like after his breakup with Caitlin. "Hey, hey, calm down,” she mumbled softly, gently prying his grasp away from the counter, gripping him by the shoulders and slowly guiding him into a seating position on the kitchen floor. Once he was safely resting against the cabinets, Ley sat beside him and wrapped a comforting arm around his shoulders and pulled him closer. “Why do you say David is relevant to you and Cece both, Mika? Did something happen between the two of you, like a fight or something?”

When Mika sank to the kitchen floor, his knees stayed up. Even as his sister gently placed her arm around her, which he barely acknowledged, Mika sunk his head between his knees. His forearms rested on both kneecaps. His heart was beating so fast that his lungs could barely keep him. Mika’s emotions had gotten to the point where he was taking very short breaths, like was in the middle of a half-panic, half-anxiety attack. His head felt clouded with so many thoughts that he couldn’t think straight.

And then Ley did what Ley always did. What she did that late August night after Mika broke Cece’s heart into a million pieces: in that rare gentle way that she had about her, she asked him what was wrong. What she could do to help. Mika always felt like he could be honest with Aleyda. There was so much he bottled up, so much that he compartmentalized so what just happened didn’t happen every day. He made sure to bottle everything up and hope for the best, but with Ley, she never let him get away with that. She was truly a viper. Just as deadly her words could be sometimes, her ability to get what she wanted was unmatched. It didn’t matter if it was their sibling bickering or if it was truly being there for Mika when nobody else could (not in the way Ley knew how to).

He brought his head up, bringing his gaze to hers. His eyes were watery, puffy and showed clear signs that his emotional state was truly at its lowest. “No…we didn’t have a fight. Not even close.. Well, not me and Cece.” His thoughts were all jumbled. “Danny was there, but that’s not important. It’s…not relevant.” Doing what she told him to, Mika tried to calm down. He took in as deep of a breath as he could. But as he did, knowing full well what he was about to say, Mika’s chest tightened and again he was on the verge of worsening the breakdown he was in the process. “David, he…” God, why was it so difficult for Mika to actually say it? “Ley, David’s not just Coach O’Hara’s son.”

"What do you mean?" the woman inquired, curiosity melting together with the concern she felt for Mika. What was he saying? Did he mean David wasn't Coach's son or something? Had he found out Lizzie had an affair with someone else who was David’s true father? The young man's words only brought up more questions than answers.

In his chest, Mika felt his heart get to a point where it just wouldn’t let him speak, but he had to. “I know you know my father -- birth father, I mean. He’s a bastard and not worthy of being called father. But I never told you about my mother. Her name is Mary-Anne. She’s a lot like you. Fiery, temperamental, firm, but the only other person who I feel the safest with.” Thinking about his mom, regardless how close she actually was, always made Mika smile. And this was the first time he actually did smile. “But, my mom…she’s from Edenridge. She’s John O’Hara’s younger sister.” As he spoke, Mika looked at Ley’s face, at what she was thinking when he said those words. It was like a weight lifted off his shoulders. Ley is honest to god the only person he has told this secret to. He may have told Boa about his mother, but he hasn’t told anyone about his O’Hara connection until now. And honestly? It felt good to finally get it off his chest.

"Oh shit…" Aleyda cursed under her breath as every piece of the puzzle fell into place. John O'Hara was Mary-Anne Zima's older brother. Mary-Anne Zima was Mika's mother. John O'Hara was David's father. David and Mika were cousins. David had passed away under tragic circumstances after being accused of messing around with a younger girl, with all signs pointing to it being his secret girlfriend at the time: Caitlin. Mika and Caitlin later became secret lovers, with him eventually breaking things up after over two years together. Now someone was using the letters Cece wrote to David against her, hurting both her and Mika in the process.

Christ. That was a lot.

"Oh Mika, I am so sorry…" Aleyda said, wrapping her other arm around Mika and pulling him into a tight hug, kissing the top of his head for good measure. She couldn't even begin to imagine how hard it must have been for Mika to have kept this secret for as long as he did. She still had plenty of questions to ask, but they could be answered at a later time. Her priority now was to ensure her brother felt comforted and safe.

Mika leaned into the half-embrace Aleyda offered him. As he did, he felt a strange sensation overtake him. Like an oddly familiar feeling of warmth emanating from his adoptive sister. The same kind of energy he could vividly remember his mother gave off. Especially after that day that set the plans into motion for him to be shipped off to Edenridge in the summer of 2016. He was in a similar state of disarray and had a difficulty controlling his emotions. He was just fourteen at the time and felt the volatile anger that he had been all around his life, the anguish from Veronika’s death still ever-present, and all he could do was scream, wail, and express a confusion that made his ire even worse. But his mother always had that magic touch. She didn’t have to say much. Just being there for him.

That’s what he felt right now with Aleyda.

And in that warmth, in this new safety he found himself in, minutes passed. Mika remained so uncharacteristically quiet. It was a mixture of him not knowing what else to say. Both emotionally exhausted from holding everything in and physically exhausted from the weight of all the stress he had been under as of late, Mika didn’t have the energy to spare for words that felt meaningless at the moment. Yet, in his drained state, he did have the smallest amount of mental energy and he thought about Cece.

He had just poured his heart out to his sister about David and he still thought about Cece. And of course he couldn’t think about Cece without thinking about today. It wasn’t re-triggering his stress, but the fact remained that today and everything that happened, it was for a reason. Going to see her, having that intense encounter with Danny, Anya bluntly stating that Hyde was watching. After everything, Mika understood what was happening and what had to be done. His eyes were focused and he could see what he needed to do.

For five minutes, Mika was quiet but no longer. He politely (or as politely as he could) pulled himself out of his sister’s embrace, stood up and helped her do the same. “Ley, thank you. I mean it. Thank you for being the best older sister. I…” Mika was never great at this sort of thing, but he had to be, especially for what he knew he was gonna have to do. “You’re the heart and soul of this family and I mean that.” He smiled at her.

Aleyda offered the young man her brightest of smiles. While she and Mika bickered like nobody’s business, the times that they showed affection, compassion and kindness to one another were genuine and straight from their hearts. With the rough times she’d been having in her personal life and her struggles with depression and self-worth, hearing her brother’s words lifted her own spirits in ways he probably didn't imagine. "Te amo, mi amor," the brunette said to Mika, standing up on the tip of her toes to kiss his cheek. "]I told you when you first came to this family that I'd have your back no matter what-- and I meant that. So thank you for trusting me, Mika. I hope I was able to help you in any way." After a brief silence, Ley added, "And don't forget that you're a good man, Mika. A strong one, at that. You'll get through this with your head held high like us Gonzalez do. Trust me."

He took in a deep breath, walking forward a couple of paces. “There’s something I have to do. Somewhere I have to go. I might not be back tonight.”

"Something you have to do? Or do you mean someone you have to go do?" his sister teased with a smirk, knowing exactly where and with who Mika would be.

And just like that, things were back to normal. As they should be.

“Yeah yeah…” Mika shook his head and rolled his eyes. He half-chuckled. He’d say she was too observant for her own good, but it wouldn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out where he was heading. Frankly, Mika didn’t want to hide it. This was something he had to do and, as much as he knew it was probably a bad idea, given how much worse it got outside, this was a chance Mika had to take. It wasn’t that long of a drive and thankfully, Mika still had the code for the gate that surrounded Scott Street.

As he looked back at his sister, he just smiled. “Yeah, so do me a favor. If anyone asks, tell them I went to my apartment at Lost Souls. And especially if R2 or Pops asks, tell em I’m safe in that shithole of an apartment.”

Aleyda smiled at her brother, nodded and gave him a thumbs up “I got you, Badger. Just make sure you’re both safe and stay warm.”

Mika gave one last smile and a nod for good measure to Aleyda, grabbing his wallet and keys, rushing out the door, into his truck, and hopping inside. He didn’t move yet, but he saw just how much worse it was. Assuming he was the only idiot out on the road in this mess, Mika figured he could make it in twenty minutes tops before it would get down to the wire. Somewhere deep down, he knew the smart idea would be to stay at the Gonzalez’ house or just go to his apartment. Or hell, go to his mom.

But he couldn’t. Or to be more accurate, he wouldn’t. This was something Mika had to do.

So he drove, his gray Tacoma driving off into the rain, windshield wipers moving rapidly. Mikhail… Zima was en route to Scott Street and the clock was ticking.

Somewhere inside, Jade felt guilty for taking a leave almost as soon as their stuff was deposited into Adora’s home. She felt guilty because after so long of leaving not just Key but Poppy in the dirt, as soon as they were free to roam around, she exited stage left…somewhere. Truth of the matter, Jade needed some time alone. She needed some breathing room. She needed to gather her thoughts away from Poppy, away from Key, and away from Natalia. She was suffocating to the point where all of the compartmentalization she had made about what she was feeling versus…everything surrounding this trip: from Charlie to Charlie having a sister to the fact that, honestly, she wasn’t ready to face them.

That’s what took Jade to the backyard patio area of Adora’s house. She was still somewhat nearby the others, but far enough that she could think and breathe in peace. For the first time, Jade took in the sights. She stood at some edge but saw the surroundings for the first time. It was breathtaking. At face value, it wasn’t much to look at, but there was something about it - something that Jade couldn’t explain - that made her feel relaxed. It wasn’t just relaxing for her stress levels (which had been abnormally high since this morning), but she would even say spiritually, she felt something.

And Jade wasn’t a spiritual person. Or if she was, she’d much prefer the Prince of Darkness to the big person up top. But this was different.

She pulled out a cigarette from a pack of Marlboro 100s Red that she had in her back pocket and popped one in her mouth. Lighting it, she stood almost solemnly. These moments alone gave her some time to think. As she huffed out a big puff of smoke and she glanced at the sky. It made her mind drift to the storm. She wondered if Pancake was safe. Somewhere inside, Jade also felt guilty for not telling her she was leaving. She just hoped Anya was okay, safe, and out of harm’s way of the storm.

Frowning slightly, she heard some noise from behind her. Jade was always on her guard - except for those Sunday morning dates with Anya where she didn’t have to be - so when she heard what sounded like footsteps, Jade jumped in place defensively only to notice the artist formerly known as Queen Bee of Edenridge High, Class of 2020 was behind her. “So what? You needed some time alone too?”

You could say that,” Natalia said with a small smile, settling on one of the royal blue lawn chairs in front of the fire pit with her trusty blue makeup bag in her arms. After a brief catch-up with Adora in which the two women lamented the end of Tal's relationship with their hostess' nephews but were happy it had been an amicable split, the young woman had been quick to barricade herself in the bedroom she had shared with Creed and Jokes during their Blue Hill visits. Spending over an hour in close proximity to Charlie's friends had left her muscles tense and her nerves shot with anxiety, leaving her with no other choice than to pop a few Valiums and lay down in an attempt to self-soothe. She kept an ear out for the voices of the rest of the Southies, waiting for the moment in which they faded away. And once she determined the other guests were gone, Tal embraced the opportunity to find comfort in solitude and the cool, fresh mountain air.

“Poppy and Boa gone?” Tal asked Jade, occupying herself by loading a dose of freshly-grinded weed onto her trusty galaxy purple glass pipe. She hadn’t expected to find any of the Southies still at the house, but a part of her was grateful that it was Jade and not Poppy.

She watched Natalia claim one of the chairs and with a slight shrug more for herself, a sort of ‘might as well’, non-verbal reaction, Jade took the one opposite of her. There was something awkward in the air. Jade didn’t know if it was how she was feeling, how Queen Belmonte was feeling, or just the fact that she didn’t really know Natalia enough to feel comfortable around her, yet in her current state, she preferred her company to anyone else’s right now. The guilt for ditching her friends and family was still eating away at her, so maybe that’s why she felt this way.

“Yeah, it seems like it. I don’t know where to, though. I just came this way to get some air.” Jade absentmindedly said. She wasn’t even looking at Natalia - not really, anyways. She casually took a couple puffs of the cigarette, blowing the smoke into the air as she found herself leaning back into the chair.

The Belmonte girl snorted. "Honestly? There's not enough air or oxygen on this Earth that'll make me feel any less stressed about all of this," Natalia told Jade, pulling out her zippo lighter from the makeup bag and flicking it open.

Jade brought her gaze to Natalia. There was something eating away at her and now was as good of a time as any to say it. “You know, this might be rude, but honestly I always thought you were kind of a bitch. Not a bitch like Lanie Lancaster. That one was insufferable. More bitch like ‘oh she might ruin my day if I get in her way but probably be friends with me too’ kind of bitch.” As she rambled on, Jade inhaled another puff of smoke. “Anyway, that’s all I wanted to say. Feel free to ignore me and get high if you want.”

Natalia's face lit up in a smile at Jade's comment. In a town full of secrets and lies, the blonde's honesty was quite refreshing. "You're not that far off in your assumption," Tal admitted, placing the pipe to her lips, flicking the lighter on under the pipe and allowing the flame to light up the weed. She took a long, deep drag from the pipe and released it in a steady stream of smoke before continuing. "I'm not proud of some of the things I've said and done throughout my life, or the way I've acted in certain situations. I've felt hurt, I’ve felt lonely, and I’ve been scared to show any signs of being weak or vulnerable-- which I'm not saying to justify anything, by the way-- so I've lashed out in ways that hurt people I care about," she explained, her mind immediately jumping to Danny, Niles, and even Kylee during the last time she saw her-- people who hadn’t deserved her harsh treatment even if they had knowingly or unknowingly hurt her with their actions.

Jade just had to chuckle and smile at the response she got. She was smiling because, as much as she hated to admit it, she was the same way (more or less). Jade was horrible to a few people. Some not so memorable, but one in particular, one Roddy Callahan, had always stood out. Some days she wished she had made amends with him, and apologized for being a grade-a bitch to him. He developed feelings for her and, instead of trying to see if she did too (she might’ve), Jade split like it was nobody’s business.

“Seems we’re cut from the same cloth.” Jade laughed again, leaning forward, flicking her cigarette that was no larger than her fingernail into the unlit fire pit at the center. “Well, at least you have the balls to be a bitch to people to their faces.” Jade stayed leaning forward, her arms positioned over her thigh (just an inch or two shy of her knee). Her gaze was down closer to the ground than it was level or at Natalia. “Me? I’m a coward. I run away, hide, and keep even those closest to me at arm’s length at a time.”

The dark-haired girl immediately scoffed and raised her eyebrows. "Did you not see the state of my room when you guys came over earlier? What do you think I've been doing the past two weeks?" Tal confessed, taking another pull from her pipe. "All I remember about the last fourteen days is getting high, getting food and falling asleep. I made sure to only leave my room when everyone else wasn’t around because I didn't want to explain myself to anyone. Fuck, I even deactivated my socials and everything so people wouldn't be able to message me ask me about things. Which, from what you're telling me, looks like you can relate to as well."

Jade laughed again, slightly nodding. “That obvious huh? Guess you weren’t queen bee for nothing.” Another small chuckle escaped through her lips as Jade’s gaze remained on the firepit. The thoughts of the past immediately flooded her mind as though the fires from hell themselves consumed her, burning away whatever peace the Angel Princess had achieved in the journey here. “So as you so aptly guessed, you aren’t the only one who said--” Jade leaned back and flipped the bird in no general direction “--to the world. I was never that active on any socials. Think all I have is a Reddit account but even that’s not used very often. But the whole not answering messages and calls? Yeah, I fucked off for a whole month. Didn’t matter who it was: my Aunt Zippo’s family, Pops, Key, even Mikhail Zima reached out once or twice.” She laughed, thinking about HB and how even though they didn’t talk that much, he still cared enough to reach out. “I didn’t care -- I couldn’t care. That whole night at the Carlisle House…”

As Jade had finally looked up at Natalia, as she saw the Italian girl smoke her pipe, her emotions swirled inside. Swirled to the point where she felt that familiar vice grip of that night take a hold of her. Unlike that night, however, Jade had made some peace with it. “Instead of leaning on my friends - my family - I couldn’t face them. Every one of them who knew said I wasn’t at fault. And part of me understands that. Too many things were at play and it’s not like I could do anything to stop ReyRey from what he did to Charlie, but I never said anything until that night.” Saying it out loud was difficult for her. She thought she might talk this way with Poppy, but guilt prevented Jade from feeling strong enough to talk about this with her or even Key. Somehow doing that with Natalia, someone she had barely any connection with, was easier. “Despite that, you had a connection with Charlie too. I can’t imagine how it was for you, having to hear everything.”

Natalia was quiet for a while, listening to Jade elaborate on the way she’d coped with things and feeling a strange sense of consolation. She wouldn’t have guessed that she and Jade dealt with their problems in similar ways: pushing her loved ones aside. Not just that, but she wouldn’t have thought that they shared a similar feeling regarding their failure to help Charlie during his time of need. However, when the conversation shifted to her potential connection to Charlie, the Italian girl’s demeanor reverted back to its usual high guard.

"He was my dealer. That's all it was," Tal answered curtly, shifting her slightly tearful eyes away from Jade and to the pine trees surrounding them as her body tensed up. Flashbacks of the moments shared with Charlie throughout the years jumped to the forefront of her mind, each one more meaningful than the last, all culminating in that fateful day in which she witnessed his premature demise swiftly delivered by the hand of Sly James and his bullet to the Native boy's head. Before their excursion to Carlisle and the old high school, Natalia had compartmentalized and suppressed the memory for nearly two years. But after that night, the visions of her former lover meeting his end haunted her dreams, and only the pills and the weed knocked her out enough to avoid the nightmares that followed.

The blonde found herself narrowing her blue-green eyes at Natalia the moment that she saw her gaze drift away from her own. Jade knew it all too well that, on the southside, if you had a dealer, they were more than that. But at the same time, as much as she wanted to assume, if she were in Natalia’s position, she’d hate for anyone to assume something that might not even be true. What Charlie became after a certain point, as much as it kills her to assume it, he became like a stranger to her.

“Sorry, I didn’t…” Fuck, Jade was terrible at this: the awkward apology for her own damn assumptions. She kept her eyes on the former queen even if she didn’t want to look at her. “It’s just, in the Southside, we don’t really view dealers as just that. I get you’re a Northsider, but you strike me as someone who is more Southie than Northie. Hell, my own dealer, Sunshine, he’s someone I’ve known for the longest time. Ever since I met Key since I was thirteen, I’ve always been close to his crew. Sonny is the one who gave me some pills. Still got 'em with me just in case I needed a pick-me-up.” And at this rate, Jade would probably need them sooner than later.

The Belmonte girl remained silent once more, pondering her options. Here was an opportunity to come clean about her involvement with Charlie Decker with someone who seemed to carry the same guilt she did. Jade had been open with her so far-- more so than Tal would have ever imagined considering they’d been strangers just mere minutes before. And she had also shown vulnerability in the things she’d disclosed and the way she had disclosed them. But was Tal ready to do the same?

"I guess you could say we were friends," she lied, taking another puff from the pipe but still avoiding the blonde's eyes. She was afraid they would contradict the words being spoken-- that they would reveal she and Charlie had been drawn to one another, and that they'd been more than friends at one point in time. "I started buying from him after Niles Sinclair and I stopped being friends. One of those times, he noticed I wasn't being myself. He offered me a joint, asked me what was wrong, and we got to talking about it. It was nice." Tal admitted, the ghost of a smile on her lips as she remembered her first real conversation with Charlie Decker: the one that started it all. "We had smoking sessions and deep talks about this and that a few more times after that. He was honestly the best person to talk to if you wanted to dig deep into the meaning of things. It was one of the things I enjoyed most about him."

Jade didn’t expect this to happen. Honest to every damn God and spirit around, Jade didn’t see herself having a conversation about Charlie with someone she not only didn’t have a close connection with, but someone who had the same experiences that she did. She was experiencing a lost feeling that she hadn’t felt in years. Any time that she thought about Charlie Decker, it was always met with profound sadness, mixed with regret and pain. All of that from the last two years of Charlie’s life and how very little she talked to him. She was going through her own shit, as he was, but...

But Jade wished she had reached out. God, she wished more than anything that she would have just said hello. Have another go at it, but it never happened. And while he was gone, he wasn’t forgotten. This very moment was proof of that.

“I bet you were the one to start it off, right?” Jade smiled and laughed, remembering how Charlie was at that game before the party. “He had a way about him. For someone so wise beyond his years and a love for literature, he sure sucked at getting his thoughts out.” Somewhere deep down, Jade wished things had been different that day. At the game.

Natalia turned to look at Jade for the first time since their common friend had been brought up in conversation. “I mean, you’re half-right. Charlie wasn’t really one to talk about himself in detail much-- at least with me. He’d drop breadcrumbs about things he was going through here and there, making it sound almost like a riddle you needed to decipher to find out what he really meant. But starting the conversations? That was all him.”

Now that she took the time to really think about it, Charlie definitely knew more about her than she ever did about him. It wasn’t for lack of trying, because God knew Tal certainly tried her best to offer him the same shoulder to cry on he gave her. But Charlie always found a way to circle topics back to her or shift them in a different direction. Maybe if she’d tried harder, pushed further, dug deeper… Maybe he would have finally bared his soul enough to protect them all from what came after.

“That sounds about right.” Jade said absentmindedly, switching from half-smiles and neutral expressions in the course of a few moments. She remembered conversations she had with Charlie. Conversations that, even before that horrific night where everything changed, what Natalia said… “Charlie never did like to talk about what was on his mind. Or what was happening with him. I was one of his best friends at one point and even I knew very little about what was really happening in his life.” Saying that out loud felt like she was stabbing herself in the gut repeatedly. To actually say that she may not have known Charlie at all, that…

That was a reality check Jade never thought she’d face, least of all with somebody that she didn’t know had such a profound connection with him.

Hearing Jade admit that Charlie wasn’t very open with her did ease some of Natalia’s conscience. While she still wished she would have tried harder to earn his trust, it was a little comforting to know that it hadn’t been just her. Unfortunately, knowing what she did now and how it all ended, hoping that he’d had someone to confide in even if it hadn’t been them, was futile.

Jade felt the curious cat poke its head and there was something she needed to ask. “When was it that you had started having these talks with him?”

“March of Sophomore year,” Natalia responded without hesitation, taking yet another pull from the pipe. “I started buying from him almost as soon as we got back to school from winter break, but we actually started talking in March. Why?"

“I'm just thinking about him. About everything.” Pain surfaced in her voice, forcing her to fall silent, but Jade was still smiling. “I guess when things around me and, I suppose everyone else too, were happening all at once and I started to lose touch with him, that was around the same time you…and he started talking. I think I’m happy he found someone to talk to, even if he didn’t admit much to you about what he was going through, it seemed like he felt safe around you.” In truth, that’s the best way Jade could look at it. Her biggest regret was not doing more, but at least he had somebody. She had made her peace with most of it, but unintentionally so, this had opened up some old wounds for her.

The green-eyed girl swallowed the lump forming on her throat, getting misty-eyed once more as even more memories of her time spent with Charlie bubbled up to the surface. “Not as safe as I felt around him,” she heard herself confessing. “I cared about him so much-- more than words can ever say. In high school, I was surrounded by a ton of people. I had one or two friends that I trusted, but Charlie was the only one who really saw me from the beginning. He gave me one look, and that’s all it took for him to know what kind of mood I was in. He made me feel heard. He knew what to say to make me feel like I was worth a damn when I thought I couldn’t see it myself. He did so much for me-- hell, he did so much for so many people--, and none of us could do anything to save him--” Out of nowhere and before she could stop herself, Natalia dropped her pipe in her lap, hid her face between her hands and started to sob.

Without even thinking about it, Jade left the chair she was in, going close to Natalia. She was on one knee. Her hand was gently resting on Natalia’s shoulder. The Angel Princess was at a loss of what to say because she didn’t think there was anyone else other than herself and Poppy who felt this way about Charlie. Who held such a deep regret for not being able to help him. Jade held her own shortcomings with Charlie so harshly against her that even before the shooting, it crippled her. And after, in addition to so many other bad events happening in succession, Jade couldn’t deal.

That’s when she started to turn to drugs to help her cope with all the internal pain she kept clinging onto. Pain reminded her that she was still alive but the drugs and alcohol helped numb her worst thoughts, yet made her feel worse about herself. “Natalia…” Jade spoke softly, though she felt her voice crack with the mix of emotions that she thought were buried in her voice. These emotions stemmed from thoughts that she thought were resolved. “I’m…” Again, she got choked up. The roles were reversed right now. Natalia was where Jade was last month. “You’re not alone, Natalia.” Jade squeezed her shoulder.

As tears started to slowly flow down Jade’s face, smearing her racoon eyeshadow, Jade gently pulled the Italian girl into an embrace as she wrapped her arm around the girl’s lanky shoulders. “I hope you know that. Me, Poppy, Key, and you -- we all feel the same hurt. What we couldn’t do right by him, we can by his sister.” Maybe for the first time, Jade could understand the true importance of this trip. She spent so long from the moment she found out to the car ride to the Reservation stuck in her head, but Jade saw it now. What this was about was not to just protect Charlie’s sister, but redemption for the four of them.

Natalia nodded in acknowledgement, still sobbing but gratefully leaning into Jade’s compassionate embrace. This was the first time that she had ever disclosed part of the depth of hers and Charlie’s relationship to anyone. Be it out of fear of being judged, concern of their bond being misconstrued or guilt at the potential part she had played in the grand scheme of things, nobody else had known the very real feelings she’d had for the deceased boy. From the moment she’d witnessed his tragic death, the Italian girl had compartmentalized their memories together and locked them away in the depths of her mind, unwilling to deal with her emotions even during therapy. The Carlisle incident had served to chip away at the defenses she’d put in place since that fateful day in late August of 2019, but today was the first time she’d been forced to confront her feelings about those high school experiences she’d suppressed as a coping mechanism to her trauma. And, as much as Tal didn’t want to admit it, sharing a part of her story with someone who could relate did ease some of the heavy load on her shoulders.

Maybe that’s what Rhonda Decker had wanted for them all along.

It was becoming more and more difficult to focus on class now. Charlie was now spending every night on the corner, slinging ReyRey’s latest product to the nighttime creatures of Edenridge, Massachusetts. It was a great disappointment to the Southside boy that his occupation was now affecting his school work. Charlie actually really enjoyed school, especially Mr Beau’s class. Literature had always been his escape. The day was still clear in his mind when his love for the written word began.

Charlie was six years old. He has long black hair because his mother couldn’t afford to get it cut at the time and he was wearing massively oversized clothes that Rhonda’s friends had given him. They had travelled upstate to Maine, Portland to be specific to visit the only living family that Ronnie had left, her grandfather. He was a mean son of a bitch. He had all but scrubbed his son from his life when he moved to Boston, thus he never really tried to have any relationship with his granddaughter Rhonda or her son. But in his dying days when the dementia had taken hold, Arend Van Decker wanted nothing more than to meet his progeny.

Rhonda was taking care of Arend in his garden and Charlie was wandering around the house when he stumbled into his great grandfather's library. The room itself was small and three of the four walls were covered in books but to the young boy, this place might as well have been the length of a football field and the height of the Eiffel Tower. It was like a scene out of a movie in Charlie's head and when he reached out to grab the first book, he believed in his head that when he opened the pages he would be transported into a magical world of wonder and excitement and he would take his family on an breathtaking adventure. He may not have gone on that journey to wonderland but Charlie did set off on his expedition into the infinite universe of literature.

Beau wanted a book report done and wanted it done in pairs. Charlie looked forward to working with Poppy as always, at least until the moulder of minds decided to pick the pairs and Charlie was placed with the girl he was currently waiting to meet on the top bleacher overlooking the soccer field, Natalia Belmonte. There really couldn’t be anyone else in a completely different world to Charlie than Tal. She was beautiful, rich, popular, all the typical gimmicks one would expect for someone considered a queen of the school. Little did most know that Charlie already knew Tal a little more than one would think; he happened to be her weed dealer. Flicking through the pages of Stephen King’s Night Shift, his legs bouncing slightly as he soaked in the horror lord's words and waited for the Queen to arrive.

From an outsider's perspective, Natalia Belmonte's social life seemed to be on the up and up. Since becoming an integral part of the victories obtained by the Edenridge High volleyball Clovers, the young woman's popularity had begun to increase as her schoolmates began to take notice of her beauty, brains and athletic prowess. One of these schoolmates with a piqued interest in the fifth Belmonte child was Reagan Ramsey herself. The Asian beauty had approached Tal in the deserted showers after gym class, cornering her in one of the stalls. At first Natalia had thought Reagan was there to chastise her for staring at her bare body while she looked for her clothes and got dressed in the locker rooms. Instead, she found herself being initiated in the art of sapphic intimacy, surrendering to the queen bee in ways she had only imagined in her dreams. Their shower liaison had continued in Reagan’s bedroom during a ‘sleepover’, and after all was said and done, the senior offered the sophomore an opportunity she couldn’t refuse: a shot at becoming the next Supreme.

But what people didn't know, because Natalia was an expert at hiding it, was that the loss of her friendship/relationship of sorts with Niles Sinclair had been hitting her harder than anyone could possibly imagine. They had been joined at the hip for as long as she could remember; and for a little over a year, they had crossed the lines by becoming lovers too. Stating that she hadn't known what life was like without him, as dramatic of a claim as it sounded, was accurate. Although she would never admit it, Niles' absence had left a large void in Tal's heart that not even sleeping with the Ice Queen herself could make her forget. And without the distraction of volleyball to occupy her mind, the green-eyed girl had turned to the solution provided to her by Charlie Decker: weed.

"Hey," the Belmonte girl greeted her classmate with a nod of her head, dropping her backpack on the row in front of her while taking a seat next to Charlie. She wasted no time in pleasantries or small talk, and got straight to the point. "Same price, right?"

Charlie ignored her for a few seconds as he finished the page he was reading. Business was business but the words he read were food for his soul. Sometimes it was really the only thing that kept him going. And those who knew the lanky boy best, knew not to disturb him when he was reading. Once he had finished, Charlie licked the top of his finger to moisten it and turned the corner of his current page so he could find his place later. The native boy closed up the book, rested it beside him and turned his dark face to look at the new arrival. “Yeah, same price.”

Reaching into his bag, Charlie pulled out a small antique tobacco tin. Poppy’s mom had a massive selection at Well Loved Wonders and he had taken to using them for his deals. Depending on the customer, a tin might just have the actual weed inside or if Charlie liked you, he would throw in the papers too-- and for some weird reason, he did like Natalia. They were in completely different social circles. This old adage of coming from two different worlds applied dramatically to the two of them. She was a Princess and he was a Pauper. Yet still something in her soft green eyes made Charlie think that they weren’t so different. He saw her beauty-- of course he did, how could he not? But inside he saw a mirror: a mirror with a crack in the seam.

While Charlie concluded his reading session, Natalia fished her wallet out of her backpack, retrieved the designated amount of dollar bills for her transaction and returned the wallet to her backpack. Once the young man was finished, she handed him the money with one hand and clutched her product with the other, wasting no time in opening up the tin to examine the contents within. A grin spread across the Belmonte girl’s features as her eyes fell on the prize: beautiful forest green buds of Mary Jane, accompanied by complimentary rolling papers, all perfectly packaged in the Decker boy’s signature antique tobacco tin. The tins were something Tal had grown fond of during her time as Charlie’s customer. They made the deals less intimidating and more like a harmless exchange between friends.

“Thank you,” Natalia muttered to the dark-haired boy, shifting her sights from the tin to her dealer and offering him a friendly half-smile.

There was something different about their transaction today. Usually, once Natalia had received her goods from Charlie she would be up and out of there faster than anything. He was never offended by it, quite the opposite actually it made his life easier since it meant there was less chance of them getting caught by Principal Payne or one of his minions. Payne seemed to have his eye on Charlie ever since Allison, he was obviously one of the ones that believed that he had killed her on purpose. At this point that was just another name to add to the list, it didn’t mean anything. However, Natalia stayed after paying him, even thanking him, that actually meant something to Charlie.

“It’s no problem.” The tall Serpent returned Tal’s half smile with one of his own. There was a feeling, welling up in Charlie’s head, like a scratch. It was telling the Indigenous young man that something wasn’t quite right with the Belmonte girl, something was wrong. They were never friends, they had hardly spoken beyond their weed transactions and the odd class assignment which forced communication but still, he could see something was off. He reached into his jacket and pulled out his own tobacco tin. Flicking it open, Charlie Jay took out a joint. Holding it between his fingertips, he leaned his hand over towards the starry eyed beauty. “Want one? Free of charge”

The girl's eyes lit up, and the half-smile she'd sported earlier widened into a grin. "You sure know how to make a girl feel special," she joked, plucking the offering from Charlie's fingers. Natalia shot him a complicit wink, and wasted no time in lighting up the joint with her lighter and taking a long, deep drag.

Tal closed her eyes as she let the smoke fill her lungs with the scratchy feeling she'd become accustomed to-- the one followed by a mellow trance in which all her life's worries gently faded into the background. After a few seconds, the girl's eyes slowly fluttered open. "Wanna share?" she asked him, holding out the joint to Charlie.

Well this was a surprise! Was she…flirting? Charlie knew that this was likely just how she was, he shouldn’t read too much into it right? “Sure, gotta save the rest of the product right?” He reached out to take the joint from her, their fingers touching ever so lightly as he did. He brought the roll up to his lips and inhaled. Natalia’s taste was all over it.

He only started using it after Allison’s death. At first it was a marketing ploy, Charlie had to prove that his shit wasn’t tainted and was safe for consumption. Then after a while, it just became something he enjoyed, something that helped as anaesthetic for this pain and turmoil that had made its home in his head and heart. After breathing out the smoke, Charlie handed Tal the joint back and peeled off his leather jacket, resting it atop his book next to him. “You’re not as scary as Reagan wants you to be, are you?”

"I'm not? Fuck. I guess gotta work harder then. Wouldn’t want everyone to think I’m a big, cuddly teddy bear," the girl joked around again with a chuckle, taking another pull from the joint. "I guess it all depends on who you ask. People like you might be inclined to say no, but people like the freshmen girls on the team who see me spike the volleyball with no mercy might be inclined to say yes," she added with a small snicker, offering the joint back to Charlie. "I still have until the end of the semester to fix that, though. Plenty of time to turn into the big, bad, scary wolf people say you are."

“I mean you’re on your way,” Charlie took back the joint and inhaled again. This was some good shit. It was courtesy of some connection ReyRey had over at Blue Hill. It was somewhat comforting to know that his people were into the same shit he was, meaning he felt less like a disappointment. “Here you are, sitting in plain view of the world with a murderer. Careful, Natalia. I probably laced those joints with rat poison. Gonna take us down together Romeo and Juliet style.”

The green-eyed girl tried to hold back, but after a loud snort, she erupted in laughter. The morbid joke Charlie had just made would have earned him a scathing look from any other student at this school. Over a year had passed since the tragic passing of former Queen Bee Allison Davies of a drug overdose during a house party in the Southside, but her death still loomed over the school and Charlie Decker like a dark cloud. Although Charlie maintained his innocence, everyone blamed him for the girl's death. Natalia, on the other hand, was of the unpopular (unvoiced) opinion that willingly using any type of drug meant the consumer was aware of the risks it could bring-- one of them being death. No matter how much you trusted your dealer, you could never be 100% certain of the contents of what you were taking, or whether they were safe or not. Luckily for Charlie, Tal was in an emotional place where dying wasn’t a particular concern.

"Good thing I'm not afraid to die, then. Otherwise I’d be shivering in fright!" the girl answered in between laughs, pretending to fall back dramatically with a hand on her forehead for added effect before returning to her seating position.

After blowing the smoke out of his lungs again, he offered the MJ back to Tal. “Seriously though, what’s on your mind? I can tell something’s off and if you can’t talk to a stranger, who can you talk to?”

The Belmonte girl was quiet for a few seconds, mulling over Charlie’s offer as she took another drag from the joint. Talking about her feelings wasn’t something Natalia partook in very often. She was raised to believe that honesty and expressing too much emotion was a sign of vulnerability, not strength, and Belmontes were not faint of heart. But her thoughts about this topic had been weighing on her heart for months now, and she'd had nobody to confide them in. Although she and Decker weren't close in the slightest, he'd been the first person outside of her sisters to notice something was wrong and inquire about it.

"I miss my best friend," Tal admitted with a sigh, trying to downplay the world of hurt she'd secretly been in since she and Niles had severed their ties right before winter break of last year. She took another pull before handing the joint to Charlie. "It's hard to learn to live without someone that was an important part of your life since you were in diapers."

In certain ways, Charlie could relate. Sadly there were a lot of kids whom he had grown up with who were no longer living. It was the curse of living on the Southside: where gang violence was as commonplace as someone taking a dog for a walk. Death was as simple as breathing. He was lucky that he still had his closest friends-- Jade, Decky, and of course, his Poppy-- but that didn’t mean that he still wasn’t carrying the weight of the beautiful departed on his broad shoulders.

“I can empathise. I’ve lost a whooole lotta people.” He thought back to every time he had to put on a black suit, every sheepish look when someone mentioned his father and his mind drifted to another type of loss. Charlie’s Mom was losing her sight, getting wheeler by the day. How could she even possibly deal with that with as much grace as she was? It wasn’t possible.

“This… This is a different kind of loss.” Natalia politely added, hoping Charlie wouldn’t interpret her words as invalidating his own experiences. “You can’t call them with good news or bad news. You can’t hang out with them after school, or on the weekends, or during break. You don’t have that ride or die anymore. They’re physically present, yes. They haunt you like a fucking ghost lingering around you all the time. You can see them every day. You can hear their voice nearby. But the place that they occupied in your life? That’s gone.”

”I can’t say I’ve ever felt that” Charlie had never felt the same kind of pain. He had known people that had died, mostly under tragic and horrific circumstances. Yet he had never lost anyone in the same way as Natalia. She had given her heart to someone, the bravest thing a person could do and they had stomped on it. Charlie didn’t have that same kind of bravery. He guarded himself with words from dusty books and a leather jacket that barely fit. He was a coward and he knew that he wasn’t like the girl that sat with him. She was fierce and courageous, he was pathetic but he still wanted to help.

“You know, we may not be friends and I don’t know what much I can’t offer to you to ease your pain. But just know-- trust me when I say this, I’m a drug dealer-- you will get through this.” Charlie handed her the last of their joint. “Luigina Sgarro once wrote: When we miss someone, often, what we really miss is the part of us that with this someone awakens. You don’t need to learn to live again, you just gotta find a new part of yourself we haven’t seen yet."

"Like becoming a lesbian, maybe?" Natalia asked Charlie with raised eyebrows and a snicker, consuming the last of the joint before dropping the nub near her feet and crushing the remains with her shoe. The comment she made was half-joking and half serious. Although she'd secretly always been attracted to girls as well as guys, her feelings for and loyalty to Niles had prevented her from exploring anything with anyone else-- with the exception of a few heated kisses with Mika during the party Allison died at. With Reagan, that hidden side of her had been cracked wide open. Their pretty pink lips on hers, their soft skin under her fingertips, their silky long hair on her grasp, their heated touch so gentle and hungry at the same time... Girls were fucking amazing. She even felt a little stupid for having waited so long to experience their magic.

Charlie chuckled, a rarity for sure, especially given his usually somber mood around campus. Wow, he actually liked spending some time with Natalia. There was a lot more to her than being Reagan Ramsey’s next project or being Danny Belmonte’s twin. She was more her own person than maybe even she would care to admit. “Hey, if you wanna be a lesbian, I’ll support you wholeheartedly. I imagine most of the male student body will….and female too as it stands.” The would-be writer looked at the girl with stars in her eyes and smiled, while Natalia laughed and playfully shook her head. “Whatever you do, just be Natalia, whoever that is.”

"I guess I’m still trying to figure out who that is,” Natalia replied in earnest, thinking about Charlie's surprisingly wise words. Who was Natalia Belmonte? That was an excellent question. Throughout her life, her identity had been defined by and reduced to labels dependent on the people around her. Taz and Silvia's daughter. Danny's twin. Cat's little sister. Sinclair's best friend. Reagan Ramsey’s new pet. Coach's new volleyball Clover prospect. She was so focused on adhering and tending to each of these labels that she felt like she had lost herself along the way. "And honestly? I'm scared that, once I find out, I'll push people away by 'just being Natalia', you know?" She had already lost Niles and her relationship with Danny by being herself. She couldn't fathom the idea of repelling even more people she cared about by being her true self.

“I think we all pretty much share that same fear.” Charlie dealt with something similar every day. He didn’t want to be known as Allison’s murderer or some Southside scum. Hell, even the name Hard Times bestowed upon him by Decky was a label that he didn’t want. Charlie just wanted to be Charlie: a bookish dork, probably a little too tall for his own good, and living his truth. What truth was that? That was a different question, and involved another beautiful brunette with eyes you could get lost in. “But you can’t let that stop you.” The indegeous boy reached out, almost hesitantly and placed his hand on the young girl's shoulder, touching her warm, bare skin. “I think you’ll be fine. I mean, I quite like Natalia Belmonte. Yeah, that’s right: I said it, wanna fight about it?” Charlie stuck out his tongue. “Just don’t tell anyone, I’ve got a rep to maintain.”

"You? What does it say about me that the scary, murdering drug dealer from the Southside deems a prim and proper Northie lady such as myself as someone worthy of his liking?" Natalia teased, doing her best impression of the shallow, self-absorbed girls from their school by letting out a dramatic sigh of surprise, puckering up her luscious lips into a pout, flipping part of her dark-haired mane back while rolling her eyes at Charlie with pretend condescension… and quickly erupting into playful cackles.

Once she had collected herself, Tal leaned forward and placed a hand on the boy's knee. "You know what? You're absolutely right: fuck them. That goes for you too, by the way. Anyone have something to say about you? Fuck them. Too many people here talk shit about others to keep the rest distracted from finding the skeletons they keep in the back of their closets. Don't let them use you for that shit."

“Fuck them.” Charlie echoed her sentiment as he leaned forward to match her stare. He found himself looking deep into those infinite green eyes and was trying not to get lost. What is happening right now? Were they becoming friends? It felt that way, but perhaps there was more. He looked down and noted Tal’s hand on his knee and his hand on her shoulder which was now lower down upon her back after she had moved closer to him. They were touching and staring. Laughing and having fun. Their faces were mere inches apart to the point he could see the light freckles dotting her nose. Shit, the product from Blue Hill must’ve been particularly strong that week or Natalia’s pity had reached his level. Whatever the true reason, they had connected.

There was a strange electricity hanging in the air that had settled when the laughter faded away and the two teens remained locked in a shared stare. Whether it was the weed taking its effect on the both of them or a sudden, overwhelming need for physical comfort, Tal found herself slowly closing the distance between her and Charlie’s faces like a moth drawn to a flame. She could feel his warm breath on her lips as their noses nearly touched, their mouths just a wisp away from coming together in a kiss--

The sound of Natalia’s phone announcing the arrival of a new notification brought the budding moment to a screeching halt. The Belmonte girl immediately pulled away, her eyes wide in startlement. Muttering an incomprehensible apology to Charlie, she pulled out her phone from her backpack to discover a new text from Reagan: Time to head out. I am waiting for you in the parking lot, little love.

Shit... I have to go,” the Belmonte girl informed the Decker boy, with visible disappointment in her tone and her face as she stood up and swung her backpack over her shoulder. “Listen, I really enjoyed our conversation today. Maybe it doesn’t have to be the only one?”

So that just happened. What even was that? Charlie leaned back on the bleacher bench and smiled. “I mean I sell to you at least two times a week. I doubt this will be our last conversation.” He knew that wasn’t what the beautiful girl meant, not by a long shot. He felt somewhat guilty that he was now feeling some kind of way. He loved Penelope. She was his heart. Yet it seemed that in the last few moments, a magnetic energy had descended from the heavens and wrapped he and Natalia Belmonte, the Supreme successor, in its embrace. He was drawn to her. "You have my number. You know where to find me. I really enjoyed our conversation too.” Looking out at the open field that sat before them for a moment before returning his attention to the brunette, Charlie mused on what to say next but the words that followed were really quite natural. ”Remember, just be Natalia. She’s amazing.”

Natalia offered Charlie one of her biggest, brightest smiles in a display of gratitude at both his words and his actions. After feeling insecure about herself for a while, the Native boy's words had been a welcome change from the negativity that frequently visited her thoughts. They had raised her spirits, boosted her mood and effortlessly brightened up her day. “I can’t make any promises, Charlie D. But for you, I’ll try my hardest,” she assured him, shooting him one of her signature winks and blowing him a kiss before departing their place of business.

Watching her leave, Charlie checked the time. He still had an hour before ReyRey needed him on the corner. He could get some quick writing done, swing by and see Poppy and then cook his Mom some dinner before his shift. It was weird to think that in a brief moment that felt like a daydream, he had bonded with the future queen of the school. Princesses and paupers weren’t meant to mix, but for some reason, he and Tal did. He took out his journal and untucked the pen from his shirt pocket. Gazing upwards, the moon was starting to very slowly appear in the sky causing him to smile as he put penpoint to paper.

“It’ll all be mine someday.”

Those words had echoed in Teddy’s brain since he was a child. The Grimms never had much, they lived in a single bedroom house down on Haze Street. It was Teddy, his brother George and his parents Hank and Gabby.

Hank worked over in Boston down at the port and like any blue collar dad he spent most of his time at work or at the bar before he came home to the family that weighed him down. He had heard from some people that his father used to be a happy guy, a fun loving and quirky character but the massacre at Camp Eden had changed him. It was supposed that having your stomach slashed and your girlfriend murdered would do that to you.

Gabriella was an immigrant; could barely speak English and Hank out of the kindness of his heart, took her in and they fell in love; a storybook romance perpetuated by lies to withhold the truth. Both of them were abusive, violent and God fearing. George always wanted to escape, it was his thing. When Teddy was a boy, he remembered he and his brother running around Edenridge, looking for hideaways where their father couldn’t find them…but Hank always found them.

On one particular of those long ago days, the future mayor of Eden and his brother found themselves in the fabled Scott Street. Of course, the likes of the Clearys and the O’Haras looked down on these two scruffy boys as they meandered over Prairie Court, probably looking for somewhere to rob. It was then that Teddy and George found themselves at the big black gates of the Carlisle Estate. It had been built by hand by the Judge himself, Nathaniel Carlisle, back in the 17th century. The last known members of the forgotten founders family had moved out in the 50s after their progeny murdered a cheerleader by the lake. Teddy was enamored with its gothic beauty, to him, it looked like the grim reaper himself called the manor home. Then and there, the young boy decided; “It’ll all be mine someday.”

And it was. Upon his return to Edenridge, he bought the manor, lovingly restored it and now called it home. From the window in his bedroom he now stood looking out of, Teddy could see most of the town, including his former home on Haze Street, though now it was no longer a house. He made sure when he became mayor to raise that building to the ground. As the Reaper built his empire of the future, he saw fit to destroy everything that could remind him of his past and the hell he walked through. The future and everything in it was his.

Taking a seat at his bedroom desk, Teddy loosened up his tie and opened up his Mac just in time for a FaceTime with his youngest child.

“Hello Precious.”

Intentionally, Kylee placed herself in Adam’s kitchen, the one place there wasn’t decorations (thank GOD Adam had only recently moved in). The background? The fridge, the counter, and the cabinets, the same style that could be found in every Milligan Apartment suite. The frame gave a small glimpse of her setting but its focal point was her face, as she held her phone directly in front of her and made sure her gleaming face, the subject of the image, was in the center.

Her hair blow dried, her skin moisturized, and her lips glossed, she was ready for battle. While she was wearing Adam’s shorts, her top was her crop tank and cardigan (dried… okay it was a little damp but she had to make her dad believe what he saw, and what he saw was Kylee at her girlfriend’s apartment). She only had enough time to dry her clothes for five minutes so she had to wash it after this call, wearing damp clothes was icky. Still, presentation was key and she had to make sure she didn’t look like a Callahan boy just rocked her world.

She warned Adam already what she was going to do and she hoped her lover would stay quiet. She didn’t need him on her dad’s radar already. They were just starting to have fun and Adam knew how her daddy was. Not just the Mayor persona. No, Adam knew that Theodore Grimm liked things a certain way and when they weren’t… “Hi daddy! Sorry I missed your call, I had it in my bag because it’s pouring outside. But now I’m all comfy.”

Teddy immediately scanned the room behind his baby, she was obviously at the Milligan Apartments. There were no decorations on the walls behind her, which meant that either the place was empty, recently moved into or the home of a psychopath. He always knew when Kylee was lying to him, the same with Lincoln, Kennedy or Hailey. They had too much of their Mom in them. She could never lie to Teddy either. Of all of his children, Kylee had the most of Melody in her. The boys were a lot like his own father in a lot of ways and Hailey was a creature unto herself.

“I can see that. I am assuming, Kylee Rose, that you are at Miss Ramsey’s home?”

She could feel it. The pressure. He was looking at her calmly but that made this even more unnerving. Kylee had to keep her poker face on lest her father find out Adam is back from the grave. For years now, Adam became a ghost that Kylee never brought up. She was hurt and even hearing his name hurt. Truthfully, she had no idea how her father would react and whether or not he’d be proud of her or disappointed in her for moving on from Wes so fast. “Mhm!” She lied, keeping that smile ever so wide on her glowing face. “She’s in the shower right now but she gives her regards.”

Kylee wasn’t at Mei’s. That much was obvious. The weird heavy tattooed child that his little girl hung around with so often had a sticker on the top of her food cupboard, a pentagram with a deer's head sketched upon it. That was not situated above Kylee’s chocolate hair. She was lying to him. It would not take much to get her to confess, it never did. However, on this particular occasion he would allow her to get away with it, at least for now. He had made a decision earlier that day to rid her of the Silo boy, to unblock her path of obstacles and intrusions, especially one that kept dark secrets that could harm her. “I am happy to see you are safe. You can probably guess my announcement has been postponed. We hope to announce the new hotel tomorrow.”

“There’s no time yet?” Kylee asked, relieved on the inside that he did not inquire further about the apartment. Maybe her angle, her frame, her shot was believable! Future filmmaker here. The next Palm d’Or winner of the Cannes Film Festival. No, not really. She would never be as good as Adam but a girl could try.

“It is…weather dependent,” Teddy reached forward, taking a hold of his fine scotch crystal and admiring the gift from the motherland. He took a small sip, savoring the burning taste of the Highlands as he mulled over his words. “I will let you know of course.” When he had left Edenridge, the Mayor had spent years learning and honing his persona. One learned skill was to recover and process information in a way that almost felt slow motion. “Precious, I have just gotten off the phone with your Aunt Evelyn.”

At the mention of her aunt, Kylee frowned, leaning back on the counter and thinking back on her family’s short trip to the UK. In two days, Uncle George would be dead for exactly a month. She could only imagine how much her auntie was grieving. Looking beyond the camera, Kylee watched the back of Adam’s head. He wore his headsets and was going through his footage. Years ago, she tried to convince herself he had died when he left without notice. That didn’t work, of course, because she was never confirmed of his whereabouts or what happened. Whether he was dead or alive. There was still hope. Hope he’d come back, like he did, and swoop her off her feet, like he did. She had hope that there was a tomorrow but for her extended family…

Her uncle’s light was gone and that meant there was no hope. Only the harsh reality that he aunt’s soulmate would no longer be there to give her kisses in the morning. Her aunt’s soulmate would no longer hold her when she was incredibly sad. Her aunt’s soulmate would not be able to tell her how his day went and how he was so glad to be home with her. It was all very sad. To lose a soulmate like that.

Kylee couldn’t even imagine that kind of heartbreak. Losing someone because of rejection or because your paths were no longer aligning was one thing, but losing someone you saw the rest of your life with because of death. That was horrible and so, so very sad. “How’s she holding up?” Kylee looked away from Adam, bringing her gaze to the man calmly staring at her from the other side of her phone.

“Evelyn is tough.” Teddy was adept at hiding his true feelings and motives. It was a skill honed from over his forty two years walking the Earth. The truth of the matter was when Evelyn called him a month ago to tell him that his older brother was gone, the elation that Teddy felt in his heart could not be described. It was a wordless sensation akin to one’s skin being on fire. “My worry is more for your cousins Amaranth and Aster. To lose a parent is always terrible but to lose one in such horrific circumstances…” The manner in which his sibling met his end was joyous and it was harder for Teddy to hide his glee. “I have invited them to come stay here for as long as their mother wishes. Family must always come first and in times like these one must rely on family.”

Nodding in understanding, Kylee thought of her cousins, wondering what they were feeling. Her father was a constant in her life. Her mother, on the other hand… that was an entirely different experience. She grew up with Prue, and three years or so ago, her father got with Celine. Even if she loved Prue dearly something was off and Kylee knew, just knew that this woman was not her mother. This woman was playing a part that her father expected of her. That was what it was like to live in the Grimm household. Everyone had their parts to play. Kylee watched, listened, and saw things she likely wasn’t supposed to, all the while playing her part as daddy’s Precious. Edenridge was her father’s stage and even her, his beloved daughter, was a puppet in his show.

Prue was one of the most manipulated puppets her father had. As much as she loved her, she couldn’t properly grieve her because deep down she knew her mother was someone else. The way her siblings carried themselves in regards to the past led her to believe in such a theory, led her to have so many unanswered questions. In each of their eyes she saw secrets, secrets none of them were willing to tell. Was it the same for her cousins? Were things not as perfect as it seems? Were they ripping at the seams? Were they grieving or were they glad their father was dead? “We must plan a big dinner then daddy. Make them feel nice and welcomed. Is there anything you need me to do to prepare for them?”

She was such a good girl. Kylee almost always did what she was told. Almost. Like right now she was lying to his face about her whereabouts but he was letting that one slide. After all, not six hours ago he choked the life out of the scumbag that she called a boyfriend but he did so to protect her. Once he figured out who she was with now, they would be the next one for the Reaper to vet. He wasn’t one of those fathers who believed no one was good enough for his Precious, he just had high standards. “Just keep an eye on your siblings when they arrive. You know how your brothers can get a bit….full on shall we say?”

Lincoln and Kennedy had inherited much of Teddy in all aspects of their being. Hailey too. Ky was the most like her mother, which was probably why he treated her the way he did. “And just watch over them. With everything happening in town at the moment, there are many moving pieces in play and I do not want your cousins to get lost in the shuffle.”

“Do you really think they would?” Kylee raised an eyebrow, pushing herself off the counter. Based on how ice cold her cousins could be, they weren’t girls that could be easily trifled with. They protected themselves first and foremost before letting anyone in. “Mara’s always been focused on herself and her future. I don’t think her grief or this town will change her mind on her end goal. As for Aster, I would worry more for this town and her hurting people’s fragile egos. She loved Uncle George. I imagine she is not doing okay.” This did bring up a new set of questions. How did her cousins feel about this whole transition? Did they even want to come to America? Didn’t Mara have to go back to college? Didn’t Aster have to finish her senior year? “You said Auntie Eve is okay with this? She wants to be alone away from her children right now?”

“Do NOT challenge me, Kylee Rose,” Teddy raised his hand slightly, a sign that Ky would recognise instantly. It was the Mayor’s sign to end a conversation lest face his wrath. “Your Aunt Evelyn and I have discussed this, at length. Amaranth and Aster will be coming to live with us. Evelyn will be going on tour as she feels this is the best way for her to heal and she will be visiting as often as she can. This. Is. The plan.” Lowing his hand flat back on the desk and taking a breath through his nose. Always so inquisitive. Teddy’s dark eyes looked through the lens of the phone into the mirrored eyes that his child shared with him. “Do you understand what I am asking of you, Precious?”

Briefly, the corners of Kylee’s mouth turned down, as she tucked her lower lip between her teeth. She shifted her weight from one side to the other, her gaze downward, away from her father’s glare. Embarrassed for asking too many questions, she tried to get her mind back on track. Only recently Adam had taken her out of her dark place. She didn’t need to go back solely because she said something wrong to her dad. Playing with her hair with her free hand, she locked eyes with the main man in her life once more and nodded, “Yes, daddy.” There was a faint blush on her cheeks and obvious remorse in her brown eyes. She didn’t mean to offend. Kylee wanted to know how her cousins were feeling about this sudden decision to uproot their lives but it was clear as day regardless of how they felt, they would be coming. They were birds like her in their own locked cage. Freedom was a crime for girls like them. “Sorry…” a heap of sadness overwhelmed her soul. She just wanted to make him proud of her. “I’m sorry, daddy.”

“It is getting late,” Teddy looked at his custom Rolex and noted the time. It was a gift from Evelyn at Christmas. For a moment the image of him wearing it as he choked her during their first time giving in to passion flashed in his mind, followed swiftly by his earlier asphyxiation of Wesley Silo. “You are better off staying where you are tonight than trying to come back to the manor. At least I know you will be safe. I love you Kylee Rose.”

Adjusting her posture, trying to seem more perky, when reality was he had deflated the little ounce of happiness she had in her, Kylee beamed, “I love you too daddy!” Her heart was uneasy and part of her was worried when he did find out about Adam, he would not take it lightly. She knew she wouldn’t be able to keep this from him for too long. He was her father and he had the right to know of her affairs, even if she was afraid of how he’d take them. There was no lover she had that ever satisfied him. He barely acknowledged Natalia, he assumed Pierce was gay, he knew what she had with Mei was fleeting, and Wesley… he didn’t exist to him. Wesley Silo was nothing to her father. “I hope you have company tonight. Is Celine…I mean, mother, home?”

This was typical of Kylee. She always worried about everything, every small detail. She was just like her. “No, she was at a friend's house when the storm hit. She is safe. Your sister too, she’s out of town. So I am alone tonight but that is fine.” In many respects, Teddy preferred to be alone. Then he wouldn’t have to suffer any fools. Despite what the rumors might say, Grimm manor wasn’t full of ghosts and despite what the people around him might say, Teddy Grimm was not haunted by his misdeeds. “I have some paperwork to catch up on and then I will likely retire for the evening.” A flash of lightning was enough to shift Reaper's face into a cold glare. “You are the air I breathe, Precious. You are my heart. Please be safe but don’t EVER lie to me again. I do not ask twice.”

There it was. He knew. Kylee Rose Grimm should’ve known better. There was no way of fooling him. Father knew best. “I’m sorry. I won’t. I’ll explain tomorrow when I see you. It’s complicated.” She was running her fingers through her long hair profusely. She really couldn’t lie for the life of her. Especially not to him. “I promise.”

The mayor got to his feet, picking up his Mac with one hand and placing the other in the pocket of his custom suit from Osprey’s as he walked back towards the window. “I do not want promises, Kylee Rose, and I do not need explanations. Just do as you are told.” His eyes left the screen to look out across his empire of dirt before drifting back to his daughter. “Goodnight, Precious. You are my world. I love you.” With that, the screen cut to black.

Shaken, Kylee placed her phone on the counter. Interlocking her fingers together, she rested her hands on her mouth, cupping it, trying to regain her composure. She was an awful daughter for lying. She stood in the kitchen in complete silence unable to move.

She was a small bird being held tightly.

The person who entered her cage time and time again just to remind her who was in control, clutching her in a way that made it hard to breathe, to make sure her wings would never work in the way she wanted them to…

That person was her father.

Daddy really did know what was best for her.

Daddy always knew what was best.

When they reached Aponi’s Heart, Penelope felt her surroundings caving in. A sudden, abrupt headache struck her head and vertigo washed over her as she stared at the Longhouse that led to a daunting truth. Charlie, her Charlie, had a sister. Someone he took care of. Someone he wrote to frequently. Someone he loved. Swallowing the pain and hiding her imbalance, she smiled at Jade, who looked back to check on her, clearly worried about her soul sister. There was no need to worry.

She’d catch up.

It would only be a moment.

She’d catch up.

Her green eyes pleaded for them to give her space. She needed to be alone. She needed to sit down. She needed to breathe. Mordechai was able to read her like a book without her having to say anything. They were doing so good so far, being transparent with one another, full disclosure, and not getting on each other’s nerves. They were treating each other right, like good friends should. They were no longer seeking forgiveness, only support. That’s what she wanted all along. To be someone worthy of his friendship and not because she was Rocky’s daughter. She wanted to be worthy of him because they grew up together and he was part of her world, so why couldn’t she be part of his?

Penelope was never going to be like his Serpent friends. That part, she knew deep down, was not her calling. She might have venom in her veins and sharp eyes that sees what’s happening around her, just like them, but the skin she chooses to wear, after continuously shedding her past, again and again and again, is a different shade, a different color, a different pattern, than theirs. And that’s okay. That’s her decision to make. That will never change that Mordechai held a piece of her heart and from this point on, she hoped he’d handle it with a bit more care. Jade too. They were her best friends after all. And maybe down the road…

Natalia.

Penelope’s eyes fell onto the beautiful woman that led their class senior year. She went from just another Scott Street girl to an incredible force to be reckoned with. Intimidating, smart, and on the surface, admirably strong. A leader through and through. The ‘Supreme’ as Reagan Ramsey put it. Poppy deeply stared into her green eyes, trying to get a read on her. Even today, with them spending more time together than they ever have, she didn’t know Natalia Belmonte, not really. The guard was still up and it reminded her of… well, it reminded her of Charlie. “I’m okay, really. I’ll come in soon. Promise.”

“Yeah,” Mordechai replied, giving Poppy a small smile for support before turning back toward the doors of the building. He could almost swear he could see the gears currently turning in her head as she stared at their token Northie. The look on her face said she was thinking about Charlie again, though he was also fairly sure that that look was always dangerously close to the surface. But Poppy could take care of herself, and being open with each other didn’t mean being physically present for every part of their lives, so if she wanted to calm down on her own he was going to respect that. He nodded to Jade before pausing for another beat, turning his head to call over his shoulder, “I’ll keep a spot warm for ya, Angel.”

He headed for the doors with the other two in tow.

Jade desperately wanted to say something to Poppy. So desperately wanted to say the words that she should have spoken to her soul sister weeks ago: I’m sorry I didn’t tell you what was going on in my head. I wasn’t okay then but I am now., but all the blonde could muster was a nod, a blue-green gaze lingering for a few moments before turning around. Jade really was in a better place. She still had some demons she needed to figure out. Demons of the past. Demons with her present and the family she ghosted for nearly a month (present company not included), but an improvement was made. Somehow, after her oddly cathartic conversation with Natalia, Jade felt like she gained clarity. She understood what she needed to do.

“Yeah…okay, see you inside.” Jade’s voice was as low as it could be at an audible volume. Her gut was twisting into knots, knowing she shouldn’t go inside, but if anyone knew that sometimes you needed time alone, it was Jade. So she followed Key’s lead, looking back once more, an intensely worried gleam in her eyes.

From the minute she had entered her bedroom, all the way through the trip to Blue Hill and ever since they’d reconvened at Adora’s for dinner, Natalia could feel Penelope James’ eyes fixated on her, as if determined to dig into the deepest parts of her soul. The taller woman had purposely avoided her when she could, afraid that the raven-haired girl might catch a glimpse of the secrets she’d kept under lock and key until fairly recently. The impromptu therapy session with Jade had been effective in permitting the Italian girl to release some of the weight she’d been carrying, but it also cemented her certainty that she was not ready to discuss her connection to Charlie beyond what was already said. The more time she spent around Poppy, the more opportunities she could have to poke, prod and inquire about the sensitive topic. So while the others showed hesitation in leaving Poppy behind, Natalia wasted no time in putting some much-needed distance between herself and the shortest member of their party.

Aponi. A word which here means a local bar. In indigenous speak it means butterfly. To the tribe that calls Blue Hill their home, it means sadness, the story of a girl who fell in love with someone she shouldn’t. Legend tells the tale of Aponi as a bright, inquisitive girl who lived off of the land with her family. When the white people first arrived in the growing settlement they had dubbed Edenridge, Aponi was but a child. Enamored with the newcomers and unafraid, she welcomed them with open arms. When the next boat arrived, she was now a beautiful young woman. Amongst the new settlers on this boat was the Carlisle family, headed by Nathaniel and with him came his youngest child, Esther.

Dubbed The Emerald of Belfast Town before her family's departure from Ireland for the new world, Esther was a ravishing visage of beauty. It is said by weavers of stories such as this one that Esther’s eyes were green jewels, stolen from Cú Chulainn during one of the folk hero’s infamous rages. It was these eyes that first caught Aponi’s attention when the assorted Carlisle family climbed off of the boat that brought them to Massachusetts. Having been raised alongside the early settlers for ten years, Aponi spoke enough English to strike up a conversation with Esther. It was a conversation that lasted for hours.

Hours soon became days as whenever either was free of their respective duties, Aponi and Esther were together, talking and unknown to those around them, falling in love. It was on a cold October morning when Nathaniel Carlisle, the newly christened judge of Edenridge entered his barn to pick up some tools for the morning grind. What he did not expect to find was his youngest daughter in the arms of her indigenous lover, in the yearning throws of heartfelt passion. It is said that the rage that Carlisle felt was so strong that his hair turned white. He grabbed the young native girl by her throat and dragged her before the burgeoning township, accusing her of witchcraft.

It did not take long for the Edenites to fearfully agree with the Judge and that afternoon Aponi was hung from the Elder Tree, in succession to being severely beaten. Esther herself was not far behind as Nathaniel immediately put his own child on trial and she too was found guilty. She wept for a lost love as she was placed beside her at the tree and burned at the stake. Esther’s tears and Aponi’s blood are said to have seeped into the ground, into the very roots of the tree and spread their evil witchcraft into the very soil of Edenridge, cursing the town forever with disaster and despair.

Nathaniel was quick to drive the once friendly Indigenous from the land they once called home. Eventually the tribe found its new place at the foot of the majestic Blue Hills, where the reservation stands to this day. The first building built? The Longhouse, to protect Aponi’s Heart.

Mitena stood firm on the stage as she watched the crowd bounce to the music. She could feel the vibrations in her caramel skin as her fellow band queens played their instruments around her, Tena the center of the universe. The girls were perfect for calming the nerves which struck the young native woman every time she took to the stage. Odina was a soothing, almost motherly presence, there to hold her hand and tell her it was going to be ok. Heather was an encourager, she would big the singer up and make her feel like she was the best in the world at what she did. And Ryan, well she was a pocket rocket and liked to motivate through fear. They were an eclectic bunch of girls and didn’t really fit as a band but they were a tribe, they were family.

As their last song finished, Tena had a brief reprieve to quickly smooth out her thigh skimming brown dress and adjust her turquoise scarf. It was a look but the dark-haired front woman was proud of her body. She was always a bit on the thicker side but she was also crazy athletic, having been a mainstay on Salem’s track and field team during high school. Music has taken precedent since she graduated so she didn’t run as much as she’d like to-- but there was always tomorrow, right?

Tena tightened the leather bracelet that she received from her big brother and took a step back up towards the microphone. It was mostly the usual faces in the crowd. She could see Chief and the twins serving behind the bar, Fallon was on the door being glamourous and badass and she could smell Resi’s cooking from there. What on Earth was he making? Jadyn and her ‘boyfriend’ were up on the balcony overseeing the proceedings like the deluded monarchy they likely thought they were. Tena loved her auntie with all of her heart, she raised three children when she was basically a child herself but she really did make some bad choices. There were strangers in the sea of people though, faces that Mitena did not recognise.

She narrowed her doe eyes at a trio that had entered the bar. A platinum blonde, flanked by a rough and ready looking boy and then there was the third in their party. Tall, athletic frame, with wavy, shoulder-length dark hair and the most startling green eyes that Tena had ever seen. She felt the air leave her body in an instant-- this strange girl had literally taken her breath away. She looked like the beauty from a storybook: a princess lost in an unfamiliar land. Mitena wanted to be her safe harbor but she could feel Ryan’s glare burning a hole in her back. She needed to restart the set now or her band mate would start a riot! With her eyes still on the newcomers, especially the green-eyed one, Tena plucked her guitar strings and pressed her lips to the microphone.


As soon as the beat of the song reached Natalia's ears, the woman suddenly froze on the spot. The drum was soon accompanied by familiar lyrics and matching guitar chords, all coming together in an emotional melody that tugged at the heartstrings. She looked up at the stage in disbelief, her green eyes already clouded with tears and blurring the performers’ faces. What the fuck was this girl singing? It was a coincidence, right? It might be. It had to be. It needed to be a coincidence, because the last time she'd heard this song was when--

Before she could stop herself, the memories of that night broke through the box she had locked them in and came to the forefront of her mind: a dark, messy room in the heart of the Southside. A gray plaid shirt being gently removed from a tall man's body by two pale, perfectly manicured hands. Tender fingers caressing and softly tracing lines on bare, tan skin. A moment of silence as brown and green eyes met in complicit understanding. Pairs of lips meeting halfway, bodies crashing into one another. Nude figures fervently intertwined in a desperate search for affection and comfort. Sounds of passion seamlessly blending together... To the melancholic song the girl on stage was performing so beautifully.

It was too much.

Without so much as a warning to Decky and Jade, Natalia scrambled into the crowd of Natives fawning over the singing woman. Her wide, wild green eyes desperately darted around, searching the building for any sign that pointed in the direction of a place to hide until finally finding it at the far end of the room: the ladies' restrooms. Tal rushed inside the restroom and dashed into the stall furthest from the entrance. She struggled to lock the door with shaking hands, panicking more with every failed attempt, but eventually succeeded.

Once safely inside the stall, Natalia pressed her back against the wooden door. Without realizing it, hot tears were streaming down her cheeks, and she covered her mouth with both shaking hands to stop herself from screaming. She didn’t know when she’d taken a seat on the toilet and started hyperventilating, or when her ears had started ringing, blocking out every sound of the longhouse around her. The agony of her heart ripping inside her chest had her doubling over in pain with her forehead pressed against the cool wall. The Italian girl kept her eyes tightly shut, hands still on her mouth, and slowly began rocking back and forth in an attempt to calm down...But it was useless.

Tal was unable to prevent it. The feelings she'd been suppressing for years overwhelmed her once more, and there was nothing she could do to hold back the gut-wrenching, body-shaking sobs that finally escaped her lips.

If she felt it or not, her phone vibrated. Waiting for her was a text from her twin:

Hey, just checking on you. Stay safe, Tal. This storm is bad. Love you.

“We have highballs on for half price.”

Back at the bar, two siblings who went by the name Winona and Tennessee were smoothly and casually serving drinks to most of their village that came to support Red Wolf Road. The woman, dark of hair, tan of skin, held herself in a reserved yet confident manner. While her brother was trying to do flair tricks for the customer that pleaded for it, a big NO in the bartending book (not the flair part, but treating them as if they were entertainers), Winnie was making bank in tips with the amount of people she was flattering with her words.

Glancing up at the balcony, she took note of the signal that Jadyn and her boyfriend had when they were ready for refills. Sighing, she nodded at the customer in front of her and closed his tab while glancing at the person she offered a highball to, waiting for an answer expectantly. Multitasking was key as a bartender. Her brother would get there. One day. As she worked the cash register, she instructed the young man beside her, “Your turn, I went up last time.”

Grabbing the bottle he had just flipped in the air, letting the young girls gawk at his skills, Ten glared at his sister, “You know Auntie’s boyfriend prefers you.” He grumbled while finally mixing the girl’s drink. Cranberry rosemary cocktail. He didn’t like that man who came to their reservation acting like he ran the place. The fact that Auntie was blind to the narcissism was baffling.

“So what? He prefers anything with a—” She stopped herself, smiling at the customer as she closed the tab, before preparing a highball for the customer that finally agreed to the deal. She glanced at her brother once more and rolled her eyes, knowing well enough she spoiled him, even at work. “Fine. But when I come back, all the people waiting, better be served. Got it?”

“Yeah, yeah, got it.”

Up on the balcony, ReyRey polished off his ice cold beer and placed the bottle onto the sticky bar table. He had to give the kid credit, Jadyn’s niece was really quite fucking talented. He wrapped his arms around the gorgeous Native woman as she leaned over the rail to watch Mitena’s performance of the melancholic song. This was a life he could see himself living a bit more. Any time that R2 escaped the reservation to spend time with Jadyn and her people, the strung together moments felt like a downpour of calm washing over him. He was away from the bullshit and the expectations. Here at the longhouse, he was just Rey, chilling with his girl with some good tunes and some good beer. Maybe this was what he wanted after all? A life without snakes.

As Jadyn excused herself to go to the bathroom, ReyRey took her place at the railing. He surveyed the packed bar, soaking in the faces. They were beautiful people, the Blue Hill tribe, and they looked out for one another. What they lacked in finances, they gained in love and respect for one another. As his deep brown eyes traversed the patrons, a small cluster caught his eye. He tightened his grip on the banister and clenched his teeth, the veins popping up in his arm as he recognized several faces from the place he left behind. Jade Taylor. Natalia Belmonte. And…

”Fucking Boaz.”

Mordechai had watched as Natalia ran from their little group and towards the bathrooms, head tilted as he processed all the emotion he’d just witnessed on the usually confident Northie’s face. There was no longer any doubt in his mind that there was more than just some friendship between Charlie and Natalia, as that girl never broke down over nothing, over smaller things. But the moment she’d heard Mitena’s song and seen her face- and honestly Mordechai had been a bit more focused on Charlie’s bracelet on her wrist- the girl’s mask had completely crumbled, leaving her emotions evident to anyone looking as she seemed lost in a memory. Before he could even turn to Jade to ask his friend if she was coming to the same conclusions he was, he felt eyes boring holes into the back of his head, and as if he could hear the venomous hiss of his former leader, Mordechai repressed a shiver and kept his breathing even. It was never good to show a nervous reaction if you knew people were watching, it showed weakness. Instead, he allowed his sharp eyes to trail after the bartender that had begun making her way towards the burning gaze he could still feel. Once she’d reached the owner of the glare, however, he regretted his need to investigate.

ReyRey was on the balcony that oversaw the stage, face turning an interesting shade of red that typically could only be drawn out by Sunshine himself and eyes now deadlocked onto Mordechai’s own. He was annoyed, probably even angry, to have seen Mordechai. The Fates seemed to have a funny habit of shoving him into an uncomfortable situation that he had only just barely begun to prepare for, and he wasn’t quite sure how he felt about this newest slight from the cosmic entity. He’d come here for Poppy and Jade, for Mitena, and ultimately for Charlie, so, at least until Poppy was back and he could point out the newest development in their journey, he’d keep still. Not giving ReyRey any outward reaction to his sighting, Mordechai just nodded to the older man and turned back to the stage, giving nothing away on his face or in his posture that could worry Jade either. Everyone had their own focus now.

ReyRey could wait. Not long, the man wasn’t that patient when he wanted answers, but Mordechai trusted the man would at least wait until the end of Mitena’s set before demanding answers that had nothing to do with him.

Trusted, hoped, what’s the difference?

The moment she was alone her legs began to shake. Her body felt like it could collapse any second now. She needed to get a grip. Like The Little Engine That Could, Penelope thought she could, she thought she could, she thought she could… but could she? Now here she was, the moment of truth, the moment she could turn the page in her story, the moment a secret wouldn’t feel like a lie, the moment she could stop blaming herself for Charlie’s demise, and all Penelope-fucking-James could do was doubt herself. She was absolutely terrified to meet Mitena but why?

Stumbling, Poppy shuffled to the nearest seat which was a log by a campfire. After placing her backpack down beside her, not realizing it was open the entire time, she closed her eyes, and placed her hands on the bark, grasping at it for stability. Breathe, Poppy, breathe. All this progress and for what? For her to fall back into her old routine of crippling anxiety, panic attacks, and depressive episodes? These were things she thought she was healing from. These were things she had convinced herself were no longer an issue. These were things she wanted to leave behind. There were always things on her goddamn mind.

What the hell was she doing?

Throughout her day, throughout her week, throughout her month, she had told herself that she was strong. It was her who led the charge. It was her who took the first steps to meet people that Charlie hurt to provide them with some sort of closure. It was her who got all his broken friends together. It was her who so desperately wanted to seek out this piece of his heart so they could all move on. It was all her and she was so strong. That’s what she kept telling herself. That’s what she wanted to believe.

Was she just lying to herself? This wasn’t going to fix her problems. All this was going to do was show her that Charlie wasn’t the man she loved. He was a complete stranger. She couldn’t do this. What would she even say when she met Mitena? How would she feel? Charlie didn’t trust her enough to tell her about his sister. That has to mean something, right? For all she knew, Charlie had nothing good to say about her. For all she knew, Mitena hated her. For all she knew, this was the beginning of the end for her.

Penelope wanted to so desperately believe that the love she and Charlie had was true. That they didn’t need to say the words they both needed to hear. She wanted to believe that if he were still alive he would kiss her on the forehead and slip post-it notes everywhere to tell her how much she meant to him, using book quotes. Stupid book quotes. He loved quoting books. She missed him so fucking much and she wished this meeting with his sister was under different circumstances. She wished he didn’t shoot up a school. She wished she was the strength he needed when he truly lost himself junior year. She wished they had more time together so that she could say the words she should’ve said freshman year.

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

There was no use in wishing though. He was dead. He could never come back. And his deeds were unforgivable. He killed so many people. How do you redeem a person from committing such a crime? You don’t. She loved who he was, not who he became. She wasn’t here because Rhonda asked her to. No, Penelope knew she needed to let go of him. She needed to move on.

All she could see was Charlie and it made living life so fucking hard because he was supposed to be her future. He was supposed to be her forever. He was supposed to be with her. He always came back. He promised he’d come back. Why didn’t he come back?

Fuck, she hated herself.

To learn to walk again. That’s why she was here. But why was she so scared? Why did she feel so dizzy?

Breathe, Poppy, breathe.

“You know, there’s a lot better seating inside if you’re here to see the band. Red Wolf Road rocks!”

A figure sat down on the other end of Poppy’s log, his wild black hair framed his dark face but the flickering embers of the log fire danced in his eyes. He placed a rucksack between him and the doe eyed brunette, if anything it would make her feel comfortable that this random guy had decided to share her seat with her. The stranger leaned forward and locked his fingers together in front of him. He turned to face the woman and his full, handsome face was revealed. Sharp strong angles, a light tan, and a few battle scars, in some ways, he looked a lot like Charlie. In other ways, he looked like just another reservation dog, just doing his part to survive.

“Not often we get outsiders in town for a gig, you and your gang must be big fans?”

Lazily opening her eyes, Penelope turned to see this boy, who looked around her age, maybe a little older, and silently scanned his facial features. If she was the dramatic type, she would do a double take but instead she sat there and stared. She could see Charlie in him but he was also different enough, especially with those cheekbones, for her to tell him apart and not get lost in her head. Briefly, she wondered if all the residents here looked like this. If that were the case, she was in for a trip. She didn’t know how her heart could handle this. How her heart could handle seeing Charlie’s ghost everywhere she turned. “No, not really, but I’ll take your word for it,” she faintly smiled.

His presence alone gradually eased her nerves and worry. Instead of being alone, she was alone with a stranger. Maybe that’s what she needed. Someone who came to her with kindness but no knowledge of her past, seeing how her friends could be emotionally charged at this very moment, which would only make things worse. Maybe she needed a stranger. Someone who didn’t know anything about her at all or her situation. Someone where she and them had a blank slate. Someone she could have a fresh start with. Someone new!

“I’m looking for a person. I was told she lives here.”

The boy cocked his eyebrow. “So you’re on a quest? Nice,” He took a hold of the bag that sat between them and pulled open the zip before reaching inside. “You’ll probably need some good food then if you’re going to be searching for this mystery girl.” He pulled a bundled up something or other covered in grease or off paper from the carrier and held out his palm towards Poppy. Steam was lightly flowing off of the ball in his hand. “You look like you could do with a munch. It’s good food, honest. Teriyaki Bao Bun. Homemade. Take it.”

Tilting her head, eyes glinting with curiosity, Penelope reached for the bun and asked, “Is this what you do? Offer food to sad, skinny girls?” Surprised at herself, with how lighthearted she suddenly felt, she examined the contents and chuckled, “I’m kidding, by the way. Thank you… you really didn’t have to.” She paused for a moment, before deciding to introduce herself, “My name’s Penelope. Friends call me Poppy. If I’m going to eat your poison, you might as well tell me your name too.”

“Well actually, I kind of do just give food away,” He motioned with his head to a food truck, Resi on the Rez, parked just across the car park. “That’s mine, I’m catering this entire thing,” The boy grinned brightly as he watched her take the bun. He didn’t want to invade her space and something was telling him that she wasn’t overly fond of being in close quarters with anyone, let alone a stranger, so he leaned back ever so slightly. “Forrest, they call me Forrest. Some people Resi. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Poppy.” The man they call Resi reached into his bag again and pulled out a bun for himself, unwrapping the piping hot Asian delicacy, he took a small bite and enjoyed the wonderful flavor before speaking again. “You said you’re looking for someone? You’re not like some badass hitwoman about to murder our chief are you? If you are, I might need that bao back.”

“That would be pretty fucked up if I came in to kill your people like my ancestor, huh?” Penelope nervously laughed, thinking back at her own history that both she and Charlie discovered sophomore year. “No. My dad’s a cop so he’s taught me how to shoot out of self defense but I promise you, all I have is a slingshot.” Rather than answer him immediately about who she was looking for, Poppy took a small bite out of the bun and in complete shock, she cussed, “Fuck, this is good. You made this?”

Forrest nodded his shaggy head in compliance. “Yeah. I always like to try new recipes. Try and theme my food every week to mix it up. This week is Japanese week!” He said excitedly. It was very obvious that Resi loved food, the way his face lit up at its mention and how he worked on the recipes. It was his passion. “Bit weird to see a grown woman with a slingshot but who am I to judge?” The native boy took another bite from his bao before leaning fully back in a stretch. “Also your ancestor? Don’t pay it no mind. Every white person's ancestor has tried to kill us once or twice. Ain’t a thing,” Resi let out a little laugh. “So where is it you come from?”

If only he knew who she was related to. Penelope glanced at the longhouse named after the woman her ancestor killed, as she firmly held her bun. It wasn’t a big deal. He said it himself. “Edenridge,” She turned back at him, simultaneously taking another bite of the bun. This was a really good bun. She was surprised she could keep eating it in one sitting. In front of a stranger no less. “Oh,” she covered her mouth while chewing. “To answer your question from earlier, today I found out my dead friend has a sister and his sister lives here. So yay, fun stuff. Finding out answers and… yeah. Fun stuff,” she glanced away, peering down at her shoes.

“Heavy,” Forrest nodded his head ever so slightly before polishing off the rest of his food in one big bite. He looked into the flickering flame and began to do some quick mental maths before the light bulb went off in his head. This girl was from Edenridge. That hellhole was the birthplace of the tribe. He knew a few people down there from his dealings with Jalyn. Like that dude Oz, he was a sick guy in a good way. He knew of only one person on the reservation who had admitted to a relative down that way and that particular kin was no longer of this world and had joined the Great Spirit. “You mean Tena? Mitena Strongbow?”

Woof. The sudden mention of the girl’s name made this whole situation no longer a theory but actual reality. Poppy’s eyes began to well up. Diverting her attention from her feet to the bun, she saw her hands begin to shake. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Placing the food down, she jumped up and walked a short distance away to calm herself.

Breathe.

With her back facing him, she whispered, “Oh so it’s true. She does exist…”

He felt bad. This was obviously a lot for this poor girl and he had already made it ten times worse for her but honesty was always the correct way to go about things. No matter how much the truth hurts, a person would feel worse for not knowing. That’s what the chief said and he was the boss. He had been chosen to lead the tribe for a reason. “I’m sorry if that’s hard to hear, Poppy. She’s like the lead singer in the band. That’s her onstage right now, you can hear her.”

“She has a pretty voice…” Penelope softly acknowledged. She needed to get her shit together. She was doing so well up until today. The tears gradually went down her cheeks like raindrops on a window. She needed to be like her father. A man that could take all the punches, soak in all the pain, and still feel determined to protect people. She needed to protect Mitena. It didn’t matter if Charlie never told her about her. It hurt, it hurt a lot, but Tena’s life was endangered and no James would let something like that go.

Frustrated, she wiped her wet face with her sleeve, like Charlie brushing her tears away. She had put Charlie’s jacket on when day turned into night and the chill made her shiver. It wasn’t something she wanted to leave behind in Edenridge, when she needed Charlie now more than ever. His coat was huge but his coat was hers. Just like how Mordechai’s sweatshirt was huge but his sweatshirt was hers.

Turning back to Resi, Penelope pushed her hair back behind her ear and disclosed, “Someone has gotten ahold of her brother’s journal and has been bringing up the past. Mitena might be endangered… I was sent here because C—” saying his name when she needed to stung and she didn’t know why. “—Charlie’s mother is worried.”

She did it and the pain deeply sat in her chest. She was used to it though. Penelope should be used to the pain by now. It was becoming part of her new normal. “So what if my best friend never fucking told me he has a goddamn sister? That doesn’t matter right now. I need to get over myself and just see her.”

Wow. These white folk had some serious issues. Resi got to his feet to match Poppy and took out a few more buns. He put them down on the log before her and took a step back. “You know, it seems like you’ve got a lot going on. I don’t know this Charlie guy though by the sounds of it we’re probably related, Tena’s mom is my Mom’s sister… anyway… you better get in there if my little cousin is in trouble. She’s a bad bitch but if you’re here to help then no doubt she’ll need it.” Forrest placed his hands in his pockets before taking a step back and motioning with his head to the buns. “Take them with you when you go, they’ll last the trip.” He looked down at her bag and noticed a book sticking out of it: On the Road by Jack Kerouac. “That’s a good book.”

It was at that moment, Penelope pulled out her phone and found herself rushing to him. Intensely, she looked up at him with her big, green eyes, “You’re related to Charlie?” The tears kept coming but she wasn’t going to hold back from saying what was on her mind, not like she did in the past, “Can… can I have your number?” This was such a random occurrence but if she could make up for her past mistakes for not being there for Charlie, not in the way he needed her to, maybe just maybe she could make up for all the pain she caused him. Through Resi. Through Tena. Through his family on the Res. Through mama Rhonda. Through Charlie’s spirit. Maybe just maybe this was how she would turn her pain into something good. “Please?” She desperately begged her acquaintance, not really one to boldly ask for someone’s number like this. It was a new dawn, a new day, and a new life. It was time to start something new.

This was something else. When Resi sat down he did not expect for any of this to happen. The look on her eyes though, that was something he could understand. He had his fair share of pain, so did everyone but this girl, Poppy, her name, there was so much in her that it radiated from her being. She needed this. “Yeah of course,” he took a hold of her phone and input his digits for her before handing it back. “I usually head your way every few weeks so if I’m in town, I’ll be sure to hit you up ok? I don’t know what I can do to help but I’ll try.”

“Thank you, Resi,” Penelope, her face wet from tears, held her phone close and shyly glanced away, a little embarrassed at how emotional she got, “This really means a lot… um,” She heard the song nearing an end and cleared her throat, “I should get going now,” she goofily saluted before robotically making her way to her bag and all the buns, “Thanks again for these. You really didn’t have to.”

“It’s what I do,” Forrest picked up his own bag and turned on his heel, beginning to walk towards the darkness. He stopped in his tracks, half silhouetted in shadow and half lit by the flames. “I’ll be seeing you Poppy. Go give 'em hell,” He offered her one final smile before disappearing into the shrouded car park and heading back towards his truck.

The flashing of lightning and the boom of the thunder were growing louder and louder as the evening drew on, only matched by the resounding pound on the window of the heavy rain. Salvador could see that a few of the local buildings had suffered power outages but he had managed to brave going out into the storm for a few minutes to isolate the power to Swerve Arcana. He had disconnected it from the Edenridge grid so that if the worst happened, Swerve could be a beacon of light, a nerdier batcave for the assembled Justice League.

Sal wouldn’t even be in Eden if not for the events of the previous year. He didn’t want to be in the hotel business like his parents. He was supposed to be in Stanford, studying engineering. That was where he was supposed to be. He had a knack for it. Yet one night in Miami changed all that and now he was here with his father and sister, opening the first Encanto that wouldn’t have his mother’s finger prints on it. Salvador had chosen to defer for a year after his mother’s death but the way things were going, it was starting to look more and more likely that he may not end up going back.

The reason the Montero heir was messing around with Swerve’s electricity was because the group had decided to host an impromptu movie night and Salvador had offered his services to get everything up, running and connected. It was partially because watching scary movies in a raging maelstrom seemed like an awesome idea but it was also because he felt the need to impress that pretty Stacy girl. ReyRey would know how to do it properly, he oozes cool. Cousin Rico had that charm and Max had a vibe. Sal didn’t get those genes like the rest of the family.

“And we are live from Swerve Arcana in sunny Edenridge, Massachusetts!”

“Cool,” Avery came out of the break room with two giant bowls of popcorn. She had already brought out other snacks that could give someone diabetes if you over indulged. An assortment of candy, brownies and cookies her mom made, and cans of sodas of everyone’s choosing. Pretty legit set up they had thanks to her parents always wanting to be stocked on junk. She loved her parents to death but they lacked self control. Too much of a good thing could get you killed. They were at the age they had to think about these things. Were they going to? Of course not. They were kids at heart and gave no fucks. Stressed her and her sister out. Avery wasn’t going to complain though because it was going to be dinner for all these nerds stuck at Swerve with her.

There was a blanket laid out on the floor and a blanket meant for warmth (the ones she used in her dad’s office), a butt pillow, and four beanie bags, three claimed by Bron, Marco, and Katie. Katie was here lurking this whole time and it was discovered that Stacy was her sister, so that was pretty neat to find out. Avery knew Katie, not Stacy but she hoped that would change now that Stacy found her way here. Swerve could use more regulars.

By process of elimination, she imagined Rosie was going to take the beanie by Bron. Rosie would not waste an opportunity like this to snuggle up close to a hot babe and as her good samaritan, fellow raging lesbian friend, she would allow it. Speaking of Rosie, she was going through her dad’s movie collection (all unceremoniously in a box) in the other room, deciding what spooky scary movie they’d watch tonight. Stacy was fiddling with the fuzzy blanket on the ground which left the butt pillow and the small patch of blanket beside her open.

Bringing her attention to Sal, catching him staring at the girl on the blanket, Avery proclaimed, “I call dibs on the butt pillow,” before placing one bowl of popcorn on the blanket. This was her gentle way of suggesting the spot by Stacy was all his. She knew a lovesick puppy when she saw one. She brought the second bowl to Marco, before calling out to Rosie who was still in the main area, going through the movies (or should be), “You good RoRo? What options we got?” They were just about ready to kick this movie night off.

And as it just so happened, Rosie was not, as she should have been, going through the movies. Her mind was elsewhere. Anywhere Bron walked, Rosie’s eyes followed. She had to make sure, above everything else (yes even the possibility of no electricity) that she saw where the blonde bombshell was sitting so she could aptly take the spot next to her. But she had to be cool about it. Rosie made a fool of herself in the first impression.

This was her redo. It had to be her redo.

“Right..The movies!” Rosie took a quick through the box, astounded at the amount of male-appealing movies. Not that she was complaining because there were a lot of hot heroines in those films. She just wished there had been more variety that were more to her liking. She did enjoy some adult anime from the home of anime, but probably not meant for a movie night. “There’s a big selection - most of them are superhero movies. Like anyone’s surprised.” Rosie laughed, wondering what they should go for. Dark Knight Trilogy? Maybe Phase One of the MCU? That was always a safe bet. “Sooo…what are we in the mood for? Marvel? DC? Maybe some lesser known, proud nerdom flics? Got Star Wars in here too.” Rosie turned her attention on the group, looking at Marco. “Well? You probably have the best all around tastes. What ya feeling?”

“Hey Danny. I hoped to catch you but the storm must be interfering. Just wanted to call so you knew I am somewhere safe. I’m at Swerve. Looks like I might be here until after the storm. I hope you're safe too, babe. Love you!” Marco hung up, frowning that he didn’t get to talk to Danny for even a couple of minutes. He missed his boyfriend, especially with the storm. Hopefully he was safe somewhere. Didn’t matter where, either.

“Marcoooo!” Rosie repeated out to the lost-in-thought Brady.

“Huh?” Marco returned to the main area and saw Rosie point to the box of movies. She repeated what she said and he just shrugged. “I’m good with whatever!” Marco admitted, taking one of the bean chairs, as did the other, less-abrasive blonde, Katie, who Marco was happy to know was her sister.

“Jesus fuck--” Katie cursed, looking directly over at Avery. “Aves, doesn’t your dad have any non-mainstream films? Maybe something not too PG? We’re all adults…more or less. We want blood! Or at least I want blood. Give me some horror or maybe Alien? If you got that.”

“He does, but it wouldn’t be in that box,” Avery shrugged and strolled to the door, “Dad keeps the horror shit in his office.” Why? She didn’t really know. Was it censorship or was he simply possessive over his horror film collection? “It’s weird he’s okay with ecchi being out, and even horror comics, but his spooky movies are locked tight.” Right next to his booze. “I’ll be back and grab a couple of films.” She pulled out the keys and twirled it in her fingers. “You kids behave now.”

Bronagh finished texting her boy in Pinehurst, a smile on her face. She missed him and she knew he would be worried about her in this storm. Tommy was so sweet when he wanted to be. Putting her phone down, she glanced around the room at the group that had gathered in the walls of Swerve. They were definitely not her usual crowd but they would do in a pinch. Her soft green eyes fell upon the girl sitting on the floor as she slyly watched the boy fiddling with the fuse box. Those two had been giving each other the eye since they had all walked through the door and that was saying something considering Bron was still shirtless and showing off her boobs, though the other girl, Rosie, she had very much enjoyed a handful of her chest full of wonders.

Pulling herself to her feet, Bron picked up a loose denim vest that sat on a nearby table and placed it over her modesty; the brand on the breast read “OZZY”. “I heard booze.” Flicking her blonde mane over her shoulders, the youngest Milligan hurried after Avery. Alcohol was just what this party needed. If they were going to be stuck all night then they needed to make it memorable.

“So you’re a mind reader, I see,” Avery scanned the thicc girl in all the right places up and down, wondering how she translated the horror collection to the booze cabinet. Avery could’ve sworn she didn’t say that part out loud. “How old are you?”

“Old enough, my befreckled bestie of the evening,” Bron placed her hands in her newfound jacket pockets and walked close behind Avery towards the office. “And yes I am a mind reader, I know exactly what you’re thinking right now.” Her soft green eyes took in the comic book girl's figure. It was curvy in a different way, far more natural than Bron’s more athletic build. It was enviable to most for sure but it was hidden beneath some khakis and a black loose dress shirt though the crop top showed a toned stomach and some big ol biddies. Avery was nerdy hot and Bronagh was into it, at least for tonight.

Hiding her amusement behind a faint smile, Avery glimpsed at the blonde babe beside her looking at her with her big, caramel eyes. Sweet, voluptuous thing she was, and not the usual clientele at Swerve. She exuded confidence, both sexually and mentally. Her walk had an extra bounce to it, which was nice to watch. Her hips swayed from side to side and with that glint in her eyes, Avery could see it a mile away. Through her prolonged eye contact, her open body language, and how she crept ever so closely the further they walked away from the game room, she saw a motive.

Avery wasn’t your average nerd. She had a ladies’ man for a best friend and for those who knew her in highschool, they knew she’s been around the block. Getting a read on the situation was elementary, pursuing anything beyond flirtatious comments, now that was a challenge. It wasn’t that Avery was bad at the game. If anything, she was a smooth criminal in the dating field. After highschool, her morals started to kick in and she found herself unable to sleep around without thinking of every reason why this person wasn’t right. It was a curse. She hated it. For now, while they were alone, she’d play along. She didn’t want to be a buzzkill. “And what’s that?” She tossed the store keys high in the air before snatching them back into her hand, like a baseball.

“You’re thinking that I’m smoking hot and that if you weren’t madly in love with some girl who you consider unobtainable that you’d lock this office door with us inside and we’d be doing something incredibly bad but also oh-so-good while the kids played their games and watched their movies.” Bron overtook Avery and span on her heel, leaning against and blocking the office door with her body. She parted Oz’s vest slightly to reveal more of her cleavage, running her fingers down her breast to her toned stomach whilst licking her top lip. “And I would rock your world sexy.”

This was one of the bolder encounters Avery has ever experienced. Everything that was Bron was pure, unadulterated sex. Not her usual cup of tea, but much appreciated. With an unchanging expression, Avery watched her, her blue eyes following the blonde’s fingers run down her glowing, delicate skin. The girl had a good body. She’d give her that. If it wasn’t for the fact that she was wearing Oz’s vest, maybe this advance would’ve been harder to dodge but that vest was a clear reminder of where they were and what they shouldn’t do.

Bronagh slid her hands into her back pockets and smiled brightly. “So what kind of booze does your old man have in there?”

“Beer and juice in the mini fridge, hard liquor in the cabinet. Mom likes fruity shit, hence the juice,” Avery directed, before making her way to her father’s desk, sitting on it, and crossing her arms, “Nothing against you, Bron. You’re stupid hot and I full heartedly believe you when you say you’ll rock my world,” Avery complimented, her smile grew at the warm presence that validated her existence. At least from this encounter she knew that she was a catch and that one day, she’d find a girl just for her. A girl that enjoyed her company and would want nothing more than to be with her.

Leaning a bit on the desk, watching the other woman saunter around the office to fix herself a drink, Avery casually explained, “I’ve outgrown one night stands and shit. You said it yourself. I’m stuck on a girl I can’t have. She actually rejected me today. But hey, she was open to a friendship, at least,” Avery shrugged at her luck and disclosed a piece of her heart, the lonely part, the one that never really had a special someone, just fleeting moments, “Doesn’t change I want something with substance, you dig?” This wasn’t a rejection per say, it was more an open door for them to get to know each other first but Avery wasn’t dumb. She knew Bron was looking for a good time, not a long time.

“I feel you baby, don’t worry,” Bronagh didn’t feel any shame or sting from Avery’s rejection; quite the opposite actually. It was nice to see that true love and wanting still existed in the world. What she had with Tommy, whatever it was, was her own thing. They were open to sleeping with other people as many times as they wanted as long as they came back to each other. It worked for them. “Offers there though, you wanna taste, I’ll be your main course.”

As she fixed them both something from the hard liquor cabinet, Bron warmly smiled at the other girl. “You know Clay talks about you all the time? I can see why. My cousin is an idiot but he has a good heart. So if he trusts you…” the blonde handed the other girl a glass and offered up a toast. “Then I can already tell I lucked out when I found the only unlocked door on this street.”

Salvador nervously tapped the wall as he looked at the seat next to Stacy. Fuck should he take a shot? She was so beautiful but what message did that send? Trying to flirt with some girl your first day in town? Then again he had spent the entire day trying to bring together a group of strangers so that he could join them in a game of DnD. Weird ass day. Sal made his way to the girl on the floor and took the cushion next to her. “Mind if I sit here?”

Stacy was finding it difficult to truly understand how…different most of the people here were. In the time she had spent here, talking to them (as much as she could), Stacy was still in awe in how unique everyone was. Most of them were loud and obnoxious, so it was no surprise how her sister bonded with them so much. She was just like them, but they all seemed so nice. Even the one who was…exposed. She honestly tried to not look directly at…them, but they made that a next to impossible task.

So the brunette kept her eyes forward. As she did, however, her phone vibrated in her pocket. Taking it out for a brief moment, she saw it was from Dylan. Immediately the smile that Stacy had on her face disappeared. Dylan’s face appeared on the screen.

Stacy froze. Every part of her body went numb to the point that she didn’t realize she had let it go to voicemail. She didn’t want to think about what would happen, what Dylan might do. But she didn’t want it to show. Katie would see and she knew how Katie felt about Dylan. He wasn’t the kindest of boys, but Stacy loved him. She loved him so much, but he had a temper. She tried…she wanted to make him not be so mad at her all of the time. And as a result, she had just made things worse.

As she felt her heart beat so fast and her stomach felt like it was pulling her down into the dark place any time she thought about Dylan’s vile side, she didn’t even hear when Salvador had asked her something. She absentmindedly mouthed “Yeah..” And when she realized, she came back to Planet Swerve. “Oh no, I’m sorry!” Immediately she looked to him. Of course, one look from him and the worries about Dylan seemed to fade away. She couldn’t place it, but whenever she gazed on his face, most, if not all of her troubles didn’t seem so bad. “Go ahead! Nobody’s sitting here. Or at least I don’t think so. They probably would have claimed it by now, right?” Her blue gaze looked to Sal for the answer.

“I’d imagine they’re all just fighting each other off to try and sit next to you, so while they’re doing that I’m just gonna slide in and steal you….I mean steal the spot for myself.” Such a smooth fucking operator, Sal; where was Rico or ReyRey when he needed them? One of his cousins would know exactly what to say to a girl in this situation. The young Montero was enamored with the young girl he now sat beside but based on the way her phone had been blowing up and the image of a guy’s face he had just seen, she definitely had a boyfriend. Though her reaction definitely wasn’t one of joy when he appeared on the screen, if anything it was fear. “So, I’ll take it that this isn’t your usual crowd?”

Stacy half-laughed. “Is it that obvious?” She said with a partial blush, looking at Sal. “My sister is the token nerd of the two of us. I mean, I don’t mind some of the stuff, but I don’t get super into it like Katie does.” Just thinking about how heated some of her conversations have gotten with her friends was enough to make the girl shiver. “But I like the movies. Hemsworth is a hunk.” Stacy giggled.

Logic would tell Sal that he had now bore witness to two red flags. Not only did Stacy obviously have a boyfriend but she also wasn’t really into the nerdy shit that the rest of them were. Logic would tell Salvador that he had been barking up the wrong tree and picked the wrong sister. Logic would say that but at that moment, Sal was not using logic. If his lothario cousins had taught anything to the geek it was to just go with his gut, consequences be damned and his gut was telling him to talk to Stacy.

“The movies are cool, not massively accurate but that’s ok, I’m not some kind of die hard.” Yes Sal, go straight for the nerd talk with this drop dead gorgeous girl who's actually willing to talk to you. “You know I just moved here? Like literally this morning and I actually said to myself that they need to make a movie or a show about this place. Most haunted places in America some call it. So many stories, have you heard any of them?”

Stacy made a noise of visible confusion as she tried to think of any. This really wasn’t her area of expertise. She loved reality television. She liked cheesy romcoms and the occasional Keanu Reeves movie, but when it came to spooky folktales about a town that was apparently cursed, it showed on her face as she frowned at not being to come up with much. “Katie is the one who would know more about it, but she told about one. The Basilisk.” She had to admit that particular story, myth, urban legend, or whatever you wanted to call it, was her favorite. “Like, apparently this person, sometimes depicted as female, sometimes as a snake person, once took out an entire bar full of people with nothing but a metal milkshake straw. Pretty crazy, right?” She could actually feel herself getting excited the more she thought about it.

“Well that’s badass,” Sal was extremely intrigued by this Basilisk character. They were mythological snakes and his family ran the Serpent gang. Coincidence? Absolutely not. “I did some research into the scary stories of this town when I knew I was going to move here. You wanna hear one?”

Now he had her curiosity. Stacy didn’t know a lot about Edenridge. Her brother pretty much made that impossible. Part of her didn’t understand why. Stacy would be lying if she didn’t say she was curious about it. Ever since she and Katie were sent to live in Pinehurst to live with their uncle and the cousins that lived on the adjacent houses in a cul-de-sac, Stacy always wondered why there and not with Misha? She didn’t ever bring it up because it felt like an issue that Misha never wanted to talk about because he never mentioned it. The few times they got to see him wasn’t enough. Stacy was selfish in thinking this, but part of her was tired.

But with all of these thoughts going through her head, centering around her brother and Edenridge, she wanted to know more. Even if it was just one horror story about it. “Yes please!” The brunette earnestly said, leaning a few inches closer to Sal, giving him all but her undivided attention to the Mexican boy. There was just something…calming about Sal. Something she couldn’t put her finger on. She almost felt like she was safe in a room of mostly strangers with him nearby.

“Ok!” He smiled enthusiastically as the room became alert to Sal as he prepared to tell them a tale. Marco, Rosie and even Katie offered the new found Edenite their undivided attention. Getting to his feet, Salvador hit the dimmer on the wall and turned the lights right down before taking his seat back next to Stacy. When he had met Dallas earlier that day, she had informed him that the group she was a part of that Sal himself was trying to join, had a few sacred rites. They didn’t just play Dungeons and Dragons or online JRPG’s, they wove tales and told stories, all of which must be done in the dead of night. “I submit for the approval of the Midnight Society, The Hauntings of the Rose Motel.” He began using his scariest voice.

“When the Rose Motel first opened its doors in 1903, many believed it would be the boom period that Edenridge needed. Little did anyone know that the hotel was a cover for a sadistic serial killer known only as the Magus. In every room, a death trap designed to maim, torture and eradicate everything that a person ever is, was or could be. Every suite told the story of a lost soul. He had secret tunnels that lead all under Edenridge where he would store the bodies of the damned. Some even believe that there is at least one corpse under every home in town. Then out of nowhere, poof, he was gone and the motel passed from person to person, no one ever managing to uncover the Magus’ secrets despite the fact that the Magus was said to have left behind an apprentice to carry on his diabolical work. The Rose Motel fell into disrepair and became home to drug pushers, the homeless and high school parties. Which carries our story to 1987.”

Salvador grabbed his phone during the pause in the story and quickly searched for something. A grin crept up upon his face and he lifted the phone up for everyone to see; the smiling image of a young woman “Siobhan Heather O’Brien was seventeen and had her whole life ahead of her. Cheerleader. Prom Queen, a Foundling. By all accounts, she was a sweet, kind natured woman. She didn’t want to venture to the Rose Motel that fateful October night but her younger brother Brendan was desperate to go to a party there and being the good person she was, Siobhan didn’t want to let the youngster go alone. At first it was just like every other party, booze, drugs, sex but nothing wild. Then the lights went out and the cops showed up. Everybody ran and Siobhan found herself in the manager's office. Nobody knows exactly what happened next but the prevailing theory is that Siobhan found herself in the arms of the Magus’ apprentice. He then proceeded to drive hooks into her wrists and chain her to the wall. He skinned her alive and left her there, escaping through the Magus’ hidden tunnels. Siobhan’s body was found a day later, the police and her younger brother Brendan who led them back to the more to find her. The poor boy would forever be traumatized and would grow up himself to be a serial killer himself, drugging and murdering prostitutes. Every room tells a story and some say that on any given night, when the teenage revelers descend upon the Rose Motel, you can see Siobhan standing in the window of the manager's office, warning them to leave lest a fate similar to hers befalls them. As for the Magus apprentice, it’s said he lurks in the tunnels, wandering and waiting for some poor soul to open a hatch and descend into his pit of darkness so that he can continue his masters work.”

It was not just Stacy whose attention was hooked by every word the boy next to her said, but the ears of Marco and Katie honed in on it too. Katie in particular had been eavesdropping on the conversation ever since Salvador had approached her sister. Katie was so naturally protective over her younger sister (they were separated by five minutes), so she had big sister eyes ever since the boy took the seat by Stacy. She didn’t like Dylan, but Stacy was too emotionally sensitive to hear the truth. Sal seemed like a nice person and clearly a fondness for stories that really stuck to your gut. Katie found herself intrigued the more he spoke.

Following Salvador’s final word, a huge flash of lightning and a boom of thunder rattles the very walls of Swerve Arcana. From beneath the large projector screen that the gang had set up earlier, a floor panel shot off across the room like it had been fired from a cannon, crashing into a standee of a clown for an upcoming horror release. A soaking wet figure emerged from the newfound hole in the floor, groaning and surrounded by a monstrous sound of what can only be described as the devil's white noise.

While Katie, Rosie, and Marco were looking over at the figure, a mixture of intrigue, slight panic, and anxiety (respectively from the three of them) on their faces, Stacy gasped so loud it sounded like a shriek, jumping in the butt pillow she sat on and had unknowingly wrapped her arms around Sal, almost clinging to him as some form of protection. She was shaking, the combination of the horror tale and the outside weather amping her panic to 100. “Who is that? Is it Magus?” A panicked Stacy asked.

The shrieking banshee that was Stacy Čapek set alarms fast in Avery. In a matter of seconds she grabbed her father’s revolver out of his desk, gestured for Bron to follow her, and the two girls hurriedly made it back to the game room.

Bronagh balled up her fists as she charged behind Avery. She was nowhere near as adept a fighter as her cousin Adam or her boyfriend Tommy but she had taken enough private lessons from her boy toy that she was comfortable and confident enough to whoop more kinds of ass than that Cold Stone Austin guy from that wrestling show.

Before barging in, Avery peeked through the crack only to see a familiar silhouette. With annoyance written all over her face, Aves mumbled, “Fucking really, Oz?” She kicked the door open rather unceremoniously and undimmed the lights. “We have a front door for a reason.”

Blinded by the sudden illumination, Oz covered his eyes like a creature of the night suddenly being exposed to blazing hot sunlight. He hissed as he backed away slightly. Once his dark eyes had adjusted, the heavy metal god bared his teeth and turned his hands into claws. “Boo!” He let out a howl of laughter before peeling off his wet jacket and tossing it over into a corner. “It was locked! The fuck are you little morons doing in here anyway?”

Bron’s soft green eyes widened at the stranger, whom she recognised from her days in school. He was a year below her but everyone in her class knew about the crazy Meeks head who seemed to have a cult of nerds that worshipped the ground he walked on. Even now, four years later, he was still a ducking basket case.

“I was about to get me some fucking pussy Oz!” Bronagh screamed. “Prepare to die you absolute basket case!” Throwing off the jacket that she now realised was his, the blonde barged past Avery and the youngsters wrapped up in each other’s arms on the floor with her fist raised high as Oz backed away towards the rear wall.

“Oh shitsticks”

The time was 1 AM. Penelope laid alone staring up at her ceiling, listening to the soothing rain and watching the shadow of her hand gingerly sway around, sheltered by the moonlight cast. Her mind drifted in and out, thinking of a time when life was simpler. High school changed everything for her and her friends. Or to be more exact, the party that Allison died at changed everything.

They were still tight as thieves, maybe not through their openness with being vulnerable to one another, but if something happened, they’d all drop everything for each other, without hesitation. She hoped that part would never change. What she could feel was the growing distance. There was always the ashes in her necklace that were once her sister as an option to rant to but she was still trying to accept the fact that Maxine James was dead. And now? All her friends were moving on, growing up.

Penelope could feel them drifting further and further away toward their own island while they left her behind in the land of make-believe. Their land where they were happy, young, and dumb. When they were children. Mordechai was falling deeper into the serpent world, Jade was finding her stride at school, making an assortment of friends, which meant both had little to no time for her, and Charlie… he was constantly stuck between a rock and a hard place, forcing himself to be alone in his head, living silently inside.

She could feel it all and was constantly left in a state of bewilderment. Her dad would never let her be out too late past curfew unless it was a party and he knew what time she’d be home. The only place she was permitted to go at any time was Rhonda’s. Her mom texted her often and drove her to and from everywhere, out of fear she’d end the same way her sister did. Through suicide. At least that’s what the death record says. Somehow, all those she trusted with her whole heart believed she couldn’t take care of herself beyond these walls she called home. Most nights she hated this feeling. The feeling of being a placeholder in everyone’s lives. Someone just there and in the way. She hated not belonging. She hated feeling useless.

Turning her body around, Poppy reached for her phone and opened her text thread with Charlie. He still hadn’t told her he was home. That’s part of the reason why she hadn’t fallen asleep yet. She was waiting for him to know that he was safe. She did this often and most of the time, he’d either come over or text her he was home. They’d talk for a little and then they’d say their goodnights. They had a routine. She was getting anxious because it was getting later than usual. That and he hadn’t texted her much all day. He at least checked up on her once. Not today. She was nervous. This reminded her of all the times she and her sister were worried that instead of Sly coming home it would be one of his brothers-in-arms bearing bad news. Your father didn’t make it out alive tonight. While she still had this concern, her energy was becoming more and more focused on Charlie, who she knew needed a win, lest he give up, being swallowed by excessive grief, falling apart from the inside out.

With a sudden sound coming from the room parallel to hers, in the house over, Penelope finally got the signal she needed to let relief wash over her. Let Down by Radiohead was playing from Charlie’s record player. Getting up with her phone, she went to the window to look out for him. The curtains were closed which caused her to frown. Glancing from his window to her phone, she texted: Hi, Choo Choo Charlie! You okay? I missed you!

Charlie faceplanted onto his bed, his long arms hanging over each side. It has been a day. Between the usual rantings of the teachers telling him that his grades were slipping and his fellow classmates making their usual snide remarks about him being a murderer, he found time to almost spend with his friends, almost.

When school let out Charlie was straight on the corner, slinging ReyRey’s latest batch of Blue Hill products. It all started fine, hell Charlie even managed to square himself a blunt when Natalia Belmonte swung by Haze street for a puff. She was becoming much more of a recurring customer than he expected and more than that she was starting to become a friend. Charlie had hoped to finish early so he could make up some lost time with Poppy but the Kingsnake had a request of the Carlisle Street boy and it involved sending him to unfamiliar territory.

Borrowing a push bike, Charlie rode out to the infamous Rose Motel for a deal. He had grown up on stories of monsters and magic emanating from its decrepit domain. This wasn’t a typical deal for Charlie Jay. He was the premier weed seller in Eden but this time, ReyRey had him selling heroin, the first time he had ever done so. Needless to say, the deal went massively south and the young boy narrowly avoided getting his head blown off by a crackhead with a gun. Still, he got away with the money which made R2 happy. After taking his cut, Charlie crept into his home and placed it in his mother’s money jar, a routine he always did and went straight to his room.

He reached out to his phone which he had dropped on the floor when he hit the mattress and read the message from Poppy. Shitsticks! He had forgotten to message her. God he really hated this job but it was helping out his Mom, that’s all he really wanted to do. Flipping over to his back, Charlie quickly typed a response: Hey! Sorry work was crazy. Missed you too!

There was no response from Penelope. Not immediately. After a few minutes of silence, one who didn’t know her well would assume she had fallen asleep. Charlie knew her like the back of his hand. With his music covering up the sound, there was a faint noise of his front door being opened and closed, a little rustle downstairs, and small steps making their way to his bedroom. From outside, Penelope stood by his door, her hair damp from the rain but her pajamas dry, thanks to her raincoat. She had hung up her coat and taken off her shoes before making her way to Charlie’s room. She was now just wearing her black shorts, a big murder apparel shirt that said True Crime and Chill, and her father’s Edenridge police academy hoodie. Over her shoulder, her backpack hung.

Knock, knock.

This was her warning that she was coming in. Quietly, she cracked open the door and loudly whispered, “Are you decent?”

“He just got home, he's decent sweetie!” Rhonda had listened to this game being played by her baby boy and the neighbor girl for so many years now. She knew that Penelope was coming through her front door even before the young James for herself did. Ronnie was comfortable with it. She spent so much time living in darkness now but rather than dwell on that fact she came to appreciate all the things that she could hear, that she could smell and taste. None of which were limited to physical sensation. Rhonda knew that love was no longer on the cards for her, who could love a blind single mom with a son who sold drugs to keep the lights on? None of that mattered because it didn’t take clear eyes to see that Charlie and Pops were soulmates and Ronnie was going to encourage that love wholeheartedly. “When you go home in the morning, tell your Dad thanks for the old vinyls he got from Mr Ramsey! Night kids!”

“Night mama, I will,” Poppy watched Ronnie disappear into her bedroom with a warm smile on her face. Even with all her struggles, Ronnie was a rock on this street, in this town, and for her family. Poppy’s mom came by to check on her often but really, Pops knew that her mother needed Ronnie more than Ronnie needed her. For someone who experienced many hardships, from her boyfriend committing suicide to going blind, Rhonda Decker never succumbed to her inner demons. She continued to lift spirits up and give people the support they needed. The woman that raised her Charlie was a testimony of survival and perseverance and Penelope adored her. Penelope aspired to be just like her one day. A lover, a fighter, and a badass machine. Without a doubt, Penelope considered Rhonda as one of her role models. Her other ones would be her father and Mr. Beau. All who were pillars in the Edenridge community.

“Night Mom!” Charlie called back. Springing to his feet and in a single movement, he had made his way to the door. “Hi,” He helped open the door and stood to the side to let the young girl into the room before closing the door behind her. He didn’t need his Mom to hear his records playing, she needed her rest. Charlie peeled off his Serpent jacket and hung it off the back of the bedroom door before kicking off his Doc Martens. “How was your day?” He asked as he made his way back into the bed.

Penelope shrugged as she shuffled to Charlie’s desk, placing her bag on top of his chair and took out her large binder, “Uneventful,” she muttered. Opening up the binder, shuffling through it to get to her history notes, she continued, “Got to hang out with Danny at the library for a little and treated him to some ice cream. Other than that? Same-o. Same-o.” Placing the opened binder on his desk to her extensive notes, color coded, with key words bolded, she pulled her backpack off his seat and crossed her arms, “We’re probs going to have a pop quiz tomorrow in Mr. Hargreaves class. Were you able to do any homework? You can copy my maths. Though no promises that I got the answers right. Math is not my forte.”

“I…..yeah I haven’t even started it,” Charlie lamented. His role as a Serpent had pretty much eaten up his free time. Where a normal fifteen year old would be hanging out with his friends or studying, Charlie Jay was running from the cops and clients, selling ReyRey’s gear and trying to make sure that he and his Mom had a roof over their heads for another month. Charlie reached under the bed and pulled out a box of books. He began to rifle through looking any with a blank page which was insanely difficult considering the young indigenous boy’s penchant for journaling every thought. Finally finding one, Charlie sat up on the bed and took a pen from the bedside table, yawning wildly as he did. He hadn’t slept properly in days. “So, what are we learning about again?”

“We’re still in the early 1600s, our most recent chapter was about the peace treaty between the Wampanoag Indians and the Pilgrims, and just the overall establishment of the Plymouth colony…” Penelope’s voice trailed off as she carefully watched Charlie. He looked awfully tired, exhaustion emitting from his very being. This was becoming more of a common occurrence than she would like to admit. Ever since Allison died, sleepless nights were almost a habit for her friend.

“Aah the Wampanoag! My people!” The Wampanoag were the original settlers in the place that stood before Edenridge. Many of them had died out and it was very much a lesser known tribe in modern times. The only real Wampanoag that Charlie knew personally was his half sister and that girl Topanga and her family who lived in Eastbrook. “You damn whities!” he shook his fist in false anger.

Smiling at his joke, but still concerned at the little details she could see, like the bags under his eyes, Penelope made her way to his bed. Sitting beside him, seeing right through his humor, Penelope frowned and gently traced the back of her finger against his cheek, “You haven’t been sleeping lately. I can see it. I can feel it.” Her frown turned into a deep pout, clearly concerned for his well-being, “We can do homework in the morning before school, but maybe you should get some rest?” She removed her hand from his face, interlocked her fingers together, and laid them on her lap. She loved this boy and it hurt seeing him kill himself to take care of his family.

Once upon a time, Charlie would do honest jobs for people on the southside, like mowing her father’s lawn, but that didn’t pay nearly enough and he refused to take handouts. He drowned himself in serpent activity because that to him was the best solution. It pained her to see him unwilling to ask for help. All she could do was give him support and be a constant in his life, no matter the weather. Come rain, come shine, Penelope would support him and his choices. She’d hate herself if she ever made him feel alone and worse than he already felt. She’d hate herself if she couldn’t provide the one thing she knew she could give and that was her love. She’d hate herself if she was the reason he didn’t want to see tomorrow. She’d hate herself…

Regardless how messy things got for them, she knew she’d always be here. She always knew she’d be by his side. Whatever he wanted, she’d do. Whoever he needed, she’d be. That’s how much Charlie meant to her. That’s how much she loved him. And as much as she refused to believe it, she knew that’s how much he could hurt her. A life without Charlie was unbearable.

“I’m ok, Pops,” Charlie softly smiled at the green eyed girl. He could feel the tiredness weighing his face down but he had to keep going. The money he was getting from these all-nighters was doing wonders for him and his Mom. She’d had her medication every week for the last three months because of Charlie putting in the grind and graft for the Serpents. He couldn’t stop now. “You worry too much about me, you know? You can’t kill Charlie Decker!”

“But Charlie can kill himself,” Poppy curtly countered. Absentmindly, she tightened her grip on her clasped hands and her right leg subtly started to bounce. Catching herself, she quickly stood up and turned to him, “Lets lay down for a little bit, please? I’ll set the alarm and everything. Even if you can’t rest your mind, can you at least rest your body? For me?” While she waited for his response, she took off her hoodie to reveal her black true crime shirt and tossed it on her backpack on the floor. “I can wait if you want to write your journal entry, but after I just want it to be you relaxing on this bed here,” she added.

Her green eyes that spoke to the soul of nature matched the soft dewy mist of the night’s storm, displaying all that was being contained on the inside. Her underlying sadness. Her clear awareness of all those things he didn’t want to say out loud. Penelope while sheltered watched and listened, she felt deeply. She was highly attuned to the feelings and emotions of those around her, and her mother was worried that because of this part of her, she would have a difficult time setting boundaries. When push came to shove, those who loved her, or said they did, would end up taking her for granted, walking all over her. Her mother was probably right but that wouldn’t change how Poppy went about life. She cared. What was wrong with that?

He hated when she did this. Charlie, for all his flaws, was unable to say no to Penelope James. “Ok ok, we’ll take a power nap.” Even when she was telling him off, which she did often, Poppy was still trying to be nice and caring and so deeply loving. She knew that he needed to write in his journal. It was more than a routine for Charlie, he needed to write. For him, getting the words out and onto paper meant that the fire in his brain that he could never put out wouldn’t burn him alive. It was always going, constantly moving, forever running wild like a bison stampede. It just never stopped. The journaling was a railroad crossing like the one dividing the North and South of Edenridge, it was a pause for his madness.

Getting off the bed, Charlie made his way over to his desk and opened up his current journal. It was already halfway full and he only started it a month ago. He took out the pen that Poppy had gotten him for his last birthday and pressed it down onto the yellow page:


Once he was finished, Charlie took off his mustard coloured flannel and climbed onto the bed next to Poppy. He lay down next to her, reaching out and lifting the arm off the record player so that it stopped playing. “What dreams may come.”

Instead of responding immediately, Penelope laid on her side, holding her teardrop necklace in her hand and against her chest. The feeling of melancholy washed over her as if she was feeding off of Charlie’s energy like a parasite. She really did worry too much. It was hard to not love someone like Charlie. It was hard not to worry.

The idea of death being like sleep and our dreams becoming our heaven or hell, or whatever we imagine it to be… where there is no time, no fear of death, only a dream. It makes the afterlife seem more like a wish than anything. Something we make again and again and again, into eternity. If their life was a dream, why did the dream consist of so much pain? Why did she feel everything, everywhere all at once? Why? That was the whole problem, wasn’t it though?

Dreams weren’t about her or him alone. Dreams weren’t about their families or this little town they called home. Dreams weren’t innately selfish. They become it because that’s what it means to be alive. Everyone who’s ever been and ever will be, they were all part of the same cosmos of infinite dreams. Really, she’s not one to remember her dreams but she is one to remember how they made her feel. If life is a sleep, then love is its dream. Love is hard to forget.

Was she afraid to die? She didn’t know. What she did know was if the whole world disappeared and it was only her, only Charlie, where neither were reminded of all things that were broken, that’s all she would need. That would make her life a perfect dream.

“Charlie?” Penelope whispered, staring at him with eyes wide open.

Turning onto his side, Charlie looked down into Poppy’s eyes, lost as always in their beauty. He dwarfed her by far. At this stage he barely fit into his own bed. At six foot three he was the tallest boy in class and Penelope was one of the shortest. To see them together was like watching a cartoon and even now, in their own private world, if Ronnie walked in with her curled up so cute and him hanging out of the bed, she would laugh. Thank God she was going blind. “Poppy?”

“I’m not too much am I? Sometimes I wonder if things would be better if I went instead of Max. You’re always busy, Decky and Jade too…” Penelope looked away from her friend, curling her body even more. “I feel like a waste of space most nights.” This would never be a dream. This was her reality. Penelope James hated herself.

“Poppy no,” This was breaking his heart. He hated the fact that she felt this way about herself but he knew, just like he always did, how she felt. Penelope had lost so much when Max died and the sad reality of their situation was beating her down. They were Southies. The world didn’t care about them. In high school, they were changing, evolving into who they were going to be as adults. The four of them had been friends essentially since diapers but the hallow halls of Edenridge high had opened them up to new worlds and through every door they took, the rope connecting them got a little longer. “Decky and I have work and Jade is Jade, you know? She’s mad. We all love you and cherish you as you are, you’re our angel.” Charlie cupped her small face in his hand. “Without you, we’d fall apart in every sense of the word. I definitely would. I’m barely hanging on as is and you keep me going. To dream, it’s an awfully big adventure and I can only go on that adventure with you Penelope James.”

The water had built in her eyes the more he comforted her. When he cupped her face, tears were trailing down her cheeks. Learning to live with this massive hole in her chest wasn’t easy but she was trying. Each and every day she was trying. She thought tonight would be a good night. One where she didn’t get sad. One where she didn’t fall apart. One where she wasn’t a burden. It wasn’t. It never was.

Here alone with Charlie, the immense feeling of grief overwhelmed her and she couldn’t lie to him or pretend to be okay. She was never good at keeping secrets from him and pretending was more exhausting than not. Poppy wanted him to know that he was her reason just as much as she was his. She wanted him to know that if she lost him, she wouldn’t be able to push forward like she has to with Max. She wanted him to know that in her dreams she saw him. He was her wish. She wanted him to know many things but some things were better left unsaid. “Swear to me,” she gently placed her hands on his chest, inching closer and looking deeply into his crystal-thimble brown eyes, “Swear to me, where you go, I go. No matter what. You’ll take me with you.”

”I swear,” Charlie pressed his head against hers, the rain now the only soundtrack to their world. ”But if the worst happens and I go before you, remember me as a time of day.”

Stood in a power stance with her head down and her feet apart, Tena plucked hard at the strings of her Stratocaster before easing her dark gaze into the crowd and allowing her sensual hard rock voice to howl into her microphone. They were eating out of the palm of her hand. The other girls were vibing with their own respective instruments and they sounded like they actually practiced more than twice a month. She scanned the room for the girl she saw earlier but couldn’t pick her out amongst the raucous tribe living their best under the lights of Aponi’s Heart.

At the conclusion of their cover of Hozier’s ‘Take Me to Church’, Mitena leaned against the microphone and smiled brightly as applause rained down upon her and her friends. “Thank you so much, guys. We’re gonna take a little break now but we will be back shortly with another set. Go top your drinks at the bar with the lovely Echohawks or go get your grub on with Resi On the Rez out in the parking lot! Fuel up people, we only get louder from here!” Once she had leaned her guitar against one of the amps, Tena picked up the beer that was sitting on top of it and polished it off in one swig. Rock and roll was thirsty work.

After tossing her bottle into the recycle bin by the stage, the young native girl turned to face one of her bandmates, the bassist Odina. “Hey girl, I’m gonna hit the bathroom real quick. You mind grabbing me something from Resi’s truck? And also just see if Illara is okay? Thanks, boo.” Wow, she really was turning into Auntie Jay.

Jumping off of the small raised platform they called a stage, Mitena squeezed her way through the crowd. This might have been the band's biggest audience yet! This was fantastic. There even seemed to be some offcomers from outside the Reservation, though Tena couldn’t help but wonder if those people had been dragged here by her aunt's boyfriend. ReyRey seemed to have the vibe that any perceived slight against him and he would raise Blue Hill to the ground. The tribe had worked hard to build the community and they didn’t have much. The fact that they willingly worked with Rey to get funds just or stay afloat, that really made her uneasy.

Making her way towards Aponi’s ladies room, the talented vocalist didn’t actually need to use the bathroom, she just wanted to use it to cool down. For some reason it was the coldest room in the entire building and her skin was on fire. Pushing open the somewhat heavy oak door with two hands, Mitena was greeted by a welcome sight: the girl with the green eyes. The tanned songstress’ mouth fell slightly agape as she watched the stranger wash her hands and face in the sink. Her soft doe-like eyes followed the contours and curves of the white girl’s body. Her blue jeans hugged her lower frame perfectly, accentuating a pert bum whilst her low cut black tank showed off an athletic and toned physique. Tena’s gaze danced upon the light freckling all over her porcelain skin before being drawn back into her eyes. Great spirit, she wanted to lose herself in those eyes. She had come to the bathroom to cool herself down but seeing this girl there, a raging fire had been ignited inside her. She had to say something, anything! She wrote songs for goodness sake, she was supposed to be good with words!

“Hello there.”

Once the triggering song had ended and she had collected herself with the help of a few pills, deep breaths and vape puffs, Natalia exited the safety of her stall and ventured back to the restroom to freshen up. She took to occupying the sink next to the paper towel dispenser, and quickly busied herself with washing her hands and face. Over the hustle and bustle from the longhouse outside and the stream of water from the faucet in front of her, the Italian girl failed to hear the sound of the bathroom door opening and closing. It wasn’t until she heard a female voice nearby that the girl’s attention was abruptly diverted away from her jumbled thoughts, and Tal’s eyes moved from the sink to the mirror in front of her.

Was she in the twilight zone?

The reflection in the glass belonged to what was probably the most stunning woman Natalia had ever laid her eyes on. Silky strands of dark brown hair framed a beautiful, square-shaped face with inviting pink lips, a cute button nose and a pair of soft brown eyes, their chocolate color being emphasized by the turquoise scarf draped over the girl’s shoulders. The beige dress hanging over her body accentuated the tan skin brightly glowing underneath; its lack of sleeves brought attention to her strong arms while its short length revealed a pair of thick thighs and toned legs. But it was the way this girl was looking at her, with a perfect mixture of curiosity and the same alluring wonder she was sure was reflected all over her own pale face, that had Natalia unable to do anything but drink in the sight in fascination.

Realizing she’d been silently staring at the woman for longer than what was appropriate, Natalia awkwardly cleared her throat and turned to face her. “Hey,” she somehow managed to respond awkwardly through a dry mouth, shutting off the faucet in front of her. “I was, um, I was just leaving. In case you, um, needed to use the sink… or anything...” Stumbling over her words like a clueless idiot? Really? God, if Reagan saw or heard the way her former disciple was behaving in front of this gorgeous woman… She needed to get a grip on herself.

Mitena struggled to even comprehend the words that the stranger was saying, she was so enamoured with the offcomer’s beauty. She could barely speak, but Tena could definitely write a thousand songs about this girl. ”Soooo….I can tell you aren’t local.” The porcelain skin was a dead giveaway. Blue Hill very rarely had non indigenous visitors save a handful. Her eyes tracked the young woman’s face and whilst taking in just how stunning she really was, she noted sadness in her diamond-filled eyes. Something wasn’t right. The way she rushed through the crowd and even the way she was looking at her now, like she was some kind of ghost. ”Did something happen? Are you okay?”

Natalia blinked for a few seconds, taken aback by the sudden change in subject. She gave a quick glance at herself in the mirror and noticed that she, indeed, looked as shitty as she felt, and suppressed the urge to slap her palm on her forehead. What a perfect time to put absolutely no effort into what she looked like! Of course, the one time she encountered the most breathtakingly beautiful person ever was the one time she was dressed and looking like she belonged on the set of Night Of The Living Dead.

“Yeah! Yeah, I’m fine,” Tal lied without missing a beat, throwing in a dismissive wave of the hand for added flair. There was no way she was letting this stunner of a woman see or hear about how fucked up she was inside the head. Her earlier meltdowns with Jade and in public were enough displays of vulnerability to last her a few lifetimes. Instead, she decided to circle back to the woman’s first question. “We’re um, we’re visiting the rez for the night, some friends and I. Someone mentioned there would be live music here by the locals and we, um, we figured since we were already here we could, um, we could come check it out," she rambled nervously, beating herself up for losing the signature Natalia Cool and Collected Boldness right now when it mattered and attempting but failing spectacularly to make up for it with her next sentences. "The band's amazing, by the way-- I'm not sure if you know them, but you probably do considering you look like a local and they're local too... The girl that was singing was… Her voice was fucking gorgeous."

That final phrase brought a wide and bright smile to Tena’s face. She couldn’t tell if the bathroom stranger was playing an excellent game to get in her pants or she was just as clueless and as rambling as the native herself which made her infinitely more attractive to Mitena immediately. "Yeah I hear she’s quite the catch. Track athlete, rock musician and quite the dab band when it comes to gardening.”

"Oh, that's, um, that's pretty cool," Natalia babbled again, unsure of what else to say considering the breathtaking smile she had just been gifted with had served to fluster her further. "Well, um, if you see her, let her know she's awesome." Not like it mattered anyway. Tal wasn't interested in that girl-- no matter how amazing her voice was or how good she was on the track. Her attention was solely on the stunner standing in front of her.

Taking a step closer to Tal, the doe-eyed beauty noted a sprinkle of something on the Italian’s cheek. ”You…uh…missed a spot. Let me help.” Tena rested her hand on Natalia’s warm cheek and like she had been struck by a bolt of lightning sent down by the Great Spirit, her body filled up with fire. She gently licked the top of her free thumb and with her other hand dabbed away the smudge on the newcomer's face.

As the distance between them became shorter, Natalia held her breath without realizing it. Her heart was pounding hard in her chest, its loud beating filling her ears. The woman's gentle touch on her cheek brought her a peace that was short-lived, as her next actions sent Nat's hormones into a frenzy. Transfixed, her green eyes watched in awe as the girl slightly opened her mouth, brought her free thumb up to her lips and let the tip of her tongue slide down the surface of her thumb. Immediately, a shiver ran down the Belmonte girl's spine. Her mind had begun to entertain all the different places in which this mystery woman could use her tongue when the girl upped the ante by dropping the first pick-up line.

"So I don’t spend my time picking up hot girls in bar bathrooms….much. But, forgive me; I just have to say that you have the most incredible eyes I’ve ever seen.”

"You say that as if you haven't seen your own reflection in the mirror," she replied with a teasing, slightly bashful smirk. Secretly, Natalia let out an internal sigh of relief. At least able to return a cohesive compliment in her mesmerized state.

Tena’s tongue danced across her lower lip before she eased herself back and away. "Sorry, I… What’s your name?”

"Natalia," the pale woman answered breathlessly, forcefully tearing her eyes away from the girl's inviting mouth to fully focus back on her face. "My name's Natalia Belmonte. What about yours?"

"Natalia,” She mused. "Beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” There was something eerily familiar about the newly named Natalia. She reminded Tena of not someone she knew but someone she had read about. There was a girl in her brother’s book; an Italian who hid from the world behind a veil of beauty. He had said she had stars in her eyes and Natalia certainly had that. Miss Belmonte would forever be her Stargirl no matter what came next. In Charlie’s book, there were two girls in the story that Charlie’s protagonist was in love with. One was innocent and pure and heartbreaking; the other was bold, charismatic and magnetic. It was the second girl that Natalia reminded her of and if she was anything like that, then Tena knew that she was about to fall hopelessly and deeply in love herself.

She took Tal’s hand into her own under the pretense of a handshake when in reality she just wanted to touch her more and feel that electricity and pray that Natalia felt it too. "Mitena Strongbow. But everyone pretty much just calls me Tena.”

The unexpected response had Natalia blinking fast in disbelief a few times, the compliment she’d just received being pushed aside in favor of obtaining confirmation of what she’d just been told. "Come again?" she heard herself asking impulsively, a slight hint of panic in her voice. Had she heard her right? She couldn't have heard her right. Because if she had heard her right, and this girl's name was indeed Mitena, then she had been blown away and utterly captivated by none other than Charlie Decker's sister… The girl she’d vowed to convince to steal Charlie’s letters from and get rid of forever.

Just her luck, right?

”Mitena” She repeated. “Lot of people want to say Tina but it’s Tena. Teh-nah. Don’t give into temptation…well maybe not that particular temptation,” Tena’s eyes began to wander again, soaking in more of Natalia’s beauty. She had never felt like this before. She didn’t know this girl but she immediately felt like she did. Natalia was no more than a random person that Mitena had met in a bathroom only a few minutes prior, but the native girl felt like she had known the Stargirl her entire life.

As much as Tena wanted to continue talking and learning about this mysterious stranger, there was a shiver in Natalia’s voice that told her that something else other than exploring their chemistry was on her mind. “I get the feeling you want to say something. Did I come on too strong? I’m sorry. I just… You’re just… I don’t know, I saw you and I felt butterflies. Is that weird?”

“Oh no, no, no, no! It’s not you!” Tal was quick to interject, cupping the hand Mitena had previously given her with both of her own and making eye contact to make sure the Native girl could see she was being truthful. She felt like an asshole for making Tena doubt her fearless (and effective) approach to coming onto her, but the Italian girl’s mind was partly still caught up on the topic of Charlie. “You have nothing to be sorry for. You’re fucking gorgeous, and I’m really attracted to you even if it sounds really weird because we’ve just met and all. It’s just…” she took a deep breath, bracing herself to drop the news on this poor woman who had probably only wanted to flirt with her and would now possibly be getting her night ruined. “You know how I said my friends and I were here for the night? Well, the reason we’re here to begin with… Is you. We came to Blue Hill looking for you. Because… Because of the letters. That Charlie wrote.” There. She said it. The cat was out of the bag.

"Charlie?…”

Tena searched her mind feverently. Why would they be looking for her? Charlie had been dead for two years and as far as she knew, her brother hadn’t told anyone that she even existed. He was very honest in their correspondence about the state of his life and where he was mentally and the stress of introducing everyone that was a part of his heart to his long lost sister was a lot. Mitena did not blame him for this but she couldn’t hide her sadness. She wanted to be involved in Charlie’s life more than she was but she would respect his wishes.

She had heard rumblings from Resi about some creepy letters in Edenridge. He often popped down there with the food truck to earn some cash from the townies and would come back with stories. The last little while he had mentioned mysterious letters exposing secrets but Tena hadn’t given them any mind. What could they have to do with her, after all? Now the picture was getting clearer: the letters were from her brother, his journals that he wrote in so dedicatedly. In their own talks, Charlie had alluded to knowing stuff he shouldn’t.

This brought Mitena back to her present situation-- and the girl holding her hand and warming her soul. Why would she and her friends be coming looking for her? Had Charlie finally acknowledged her as his sibling in one of these mysterious pages and now the reporters were coming to find her? Take advantage of her? The sister of a school shooter, to find out more so they can sell it to Netflix for a shitty documentary. Was this a game? Did Natalia even like her?

As a thousand thoughts ran through her head, one particular one began to shine. Tena looked at the pale brunette and drank her in. How had she not seen it? The freckled skin, the sharp angles…


This wasn’t just a random white girl. This was the girl, from Charlie’s book, the other girl. The girl with galaxies in her eyes. She stepped out of the pages and swept Mitena up in the same black hole of beauty that had ensnared her brother. Wrapping her fingers with Natalia’s, finally settling on the notion that the Italian came to do her no harm, the indigenous girl tilted her head softly and looked deep into Tal’s eyes.

”Well if you’re here for me, then I guess I better be yours. Take me to your friends.”

There were so many books to choose from; many she had read plenty of times because of Charlie. In the end, Gavriel, her partner in English class, and she decided on The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky. Surprisingly, that wasn’t a book Charlie suggested to her nor was it a book she read until this book report assignment. Both Rye and Poppy let Jane pick their book. It was obvious to them the librarian’s assistant looked at the list and picked a random one. “It’s a good book,” Jane smiled before disappearing into the labyrinth that was Edenridge’s library.

Poppy didn’t know if she believed her or not, getting a feeling Jane didn’t read much, but she was willing to give the book a go. Why not? Once upon a time, her sister would tell her: You never change your life until you step out of your comfort zone. What better way then through reading? Three days had passed where the acquaintances gave themselves a deadline to finish their chosen story, and now here she was back in the library once more waiting for her partner-in-crime. Or well, literature. Partner-in-literature.

Sitting on one of the sofa chairs in the public library, Penelope was re-reading one of the more memorable scenes in the book. The gang were playing truth or dare. Charlie Kelmeckis had been dating Mary Elizabeth for weeks now but when Patrick asks him to kiss the prettiest girl in the room, Charlie kisses Sam. The room goes silent. Charlie had just kissed another girl in front of his girlfriend. 'Oh that’s fucked up,' Patrick auto-responded. The room was in a complete state of shock. Could you blame them? Their friend just made his girlfriend, their friend, feel like shit. Before Sam left the room, she glared at Charlie and hissed, “What is wrong with you?”

Things spiraled a bit after that… as teen coming-of-age dramas usually do. The reason why Poppy found this scene so impactful was because no matter how hard anyone else tried, Charlie would always love Sam. It felt relatable. She felt like Charlie. The Wallflower. Someone whose heart would forever and always be taken by one person, even if that special person would never see her in that way. Not really.

Closing the book, Poppy glanced at her watch wondering if Rye remembered their scheduled homework date. While she waited, she leaned her head back against the sofa and closed her eyes. Her body, heart, and eyes felt heavy. Lately, she wasn’t getting much sleep. From her Charlie, not book Charlie, working himself to the bone to Maxine’s birthday and angelversary being a couple weeks ago, she was going through the motions. Some days she was numb to the pain, other days…

Penelope felt empty, lacking, like there was this absence that could never be filled again. Not many people knew how it felt to lose someone as close as a sibling. Alexandria Davies knew… Jamie O’Hara knew… but Poppy didn’t know them well enough to seek understanding and support. They might understand the despair and overwhelming sadness and how indescribable it all was but that doesn’t change that they were light years apart from someone like her. This meant they weren’t people she could easily reach out to. And maybe, to a degree, they wouldn’t understand her fully. They grew up on the other side of the railroad tracks. It would be silly of her to think a Northie would understand her. Especially Scott Street royalty.

Grief was something she was learning how to deal with day by day and if she attempted to describe it, she would say it felt like a blur. The world kept moving around her, her friends kept moving around her, life kept moving all around her, and she was standing still. From the moment she and her friends went to the car to see a sleeping Max in the parking lot, only to realize she wasn’t sleeping she had no pulse, to the day they said their goodbyes and Max was turned to ash, nothing felt real. Or maybe it felt all too real and it was easier to handle her days as if they blended together.

If she did this, she wouldn’t process how long Max had been gone. If she combined yesterday with today and today with tomorrow, like a dream, then their last moments together wouldn’t replay in her head over and over and over again. Those last moments were on the same day Poppy had met up with her friends — Indie, Owen, and Ely — at this library right here to go over final touches of Max’s surprise party. Their last moments were only a day before Max’s birthday. Their last moments were hours before the town cried: Suicide. Their last moments…

“Poppy? You good?” Rye asked, trying to break her out of whatever reverie the smaller of the two had been stuck in. He couldn’t blame her for it of course, wouldn’t even dream of it. In fact he had walked in already halfway through an apology for his tardiness before he realized she hadn’t even noticed his arrival, his own spaciness in action. The past few months had been rough to say the least, between keeping up with Niles while he healed, keeping up with Danny in the Game, and sorting out this relatively new dynamic between he and his mother and the Phillips family, Gavriel was finding sleep in small doses and passing out in other people’s beds more often than his own.

When he wasn’t passing out in someone else’s bed, dollars to donuts there was someone passed out with him in his own. Two nights ago it had been Charlize Holliston from the junior class, as he’d taken her home once again from a party and they were both too tired to part by the end. Last night it had been a worse for wear Decky Boaz that had passed out on him after the doctor’s son had cleaned him up and given him some pain meds. Why the guy had decided to come up the apartment’s fire escape and knock on his window like it was that scene from the Amazing Spider-Man instead of just buzzing up was a question for when they weren’t both half dead from exhaustion. If it hadn’t been for the alarm Decky had on his burner to return to his Serpent job, Gavriel would have completely slept through his library date with Poppy.

So yeah, if her life was anything like his right now then a bit a spacing out was the least that he could expect from their time together today, and he hoped that she forgave him his faults as easily as he would hers. Realizing he was spacing out exactly as he’d worried about, the curly haired boy blinked his sleep deprived eyes a few times and shook his head, gently placing his thirty ounce thermos on the table in front of her, making sure not to set it on any books on accident as he offered up, “It’s an almond milk caramel mocha with six shots of espresso~,” god bless his mother’s soul for buying a high end personal espresso machine for their house, Rye can make his drinks exactly as he likes them and never needs to go out for his morning fix. “feel free to have some!”

“Oh,” Snapping out of her daze, burying her grief deep, very deep, Penelope perked up and reached for the thermos, “Thank you, I’m sorry…When did you get here?” Blushing in embarrassment from missing his arrival, Poppy glanced away from her homework buddy, took the lid (cup) off and poured her some coffee. She didn’t need Rye worrying about her. She was already causing trouble for her friends who had more important things than dealing with her and her emotions, she didn’t need to bring someone else into her pain. “It’s just, I didn’t hear you and I feel like I would’ve heard you…”

“Probably would have on a good day,” Rye answered honestly, plopping down across from the southie and dropping his backpack off of his shoulder to the floor. “But it’s not looking like one of those. I mean no offense but I walk around like a herd of elephants on wood floor when I’m exhausted,” He and Poppy may not know each other very well yet, but Rye has spent time with all of Decky’s friends and despite the fact that the girl was never around for anything Serpent related, she ranked at the very top of Decky’s list. Were they close enough for him to tell her she looked just as shit as he did right now? No, but he could certainly let her know he’s aware of her state and not judging her at all.

“You wanna start a club? ‘Baggy Eyed Bed Heads’, what do you think? It’s an exclusive one, too! So far it’d be you, me, Niles, and Decky,” He rambled disconnectedly before taking a sip from the thermos she’d pushed back towards him. He tried not to think about how he and Niles had had the bruising under their eyes since December, or how Decky has had them for as long as he’d known the other Jew no matter how much coke or speed was running through the guy’s system. “We could all chill out, bring some pillows and make a fort, watch a movie to forget our problems and pass out for a full twenty four hours, how’s that sound?”

Poppy smiled at his suggestion but it was veiled with gloominess and cynicism. “I’d like that. A lot actually,” she responded, trying to sound hopeful. She knew better though. She knew Decky had a high chance bailing because work demanded his time, just like it demanded Charlie’s time. This wasn’t like Max’s angelversary, a date set in stone that all those that loved her would try to be there for her. No, this was just a hangout, with no importance besides spending time with friends. Hard to make time when you are too busy surviving.

“I don’t really know Niles, like at all… would he even like someone like me?” She tried to change the direction of the topic, really not wanting to disappoint Rye in saying that his idea would be for nought. It was a waste of energy getting your hopes up over something that was never guaranteed. Her friends, as much as she loved them, were unreliable. She learned the hard way when Charlie didn’t see her after the game, the same night Allison died. She learned the hard way that it was better to go in with no expectations, then to hope, pray, or make a wish that something good was going to happen. It never did happen. Not really. She learned the hard way that nobody needed her. The invisible girl. Penelope James. All those that said they did were lying to her face because time and time again, they left her behind. They always left her behind. Nobody needed her. No one ever does.

“Well frankly my dear, if he doesn’t, I don’t give a damn,” Rye joked to her before rolling his eyes with a sad smile. “Niles is Niles, he doesn’t really like anyone. Hell, pretty much our entire first year hanging out was either sitting in his room or in the on-call room at the hospital and just reading in silence. I feel like he’d definitely get along with you and the other southies, unlike Danny who absolutely could not vibe. But yeah, Niles, I doubt he’d actually do something like that, even for me. He keeps his cuddly side on the downlow. But hey,” Rye propped his chin up in his hand as he fiddled with the loose bits of paper caught between the metal spiral of his notebook. “It would be nice, yeah? Sometimes nice thoughts are as far as I’m able to get.”

“Yeah,” Poppy steadily nodded in agreement. “It is a nice thought and I get that, knowing people that wear a mask to protect themselves but really, they’re the coolest people you’ll ever know… I get that.” Oddly anxious, Poppy brushed her hair behind her ear and grabbed their chosen book from the table, thanks to Jane. “So Perks! They made a movie for this, do you think we should watch the movie to compare and contrast it with the book? What did you like?”

“Oh we should absolutely watch the movie. Logan Lerman’s eyes? Emma Watson’s everything,” He leaned back from his hunched position and pretended to swoon before adding, “I literally put it on my watchlist last night after I finished reading, you can come over to my place and we can watch it,” the boy took another gulp from his thermos before fiddling with the front of his paperback. “I kind of liked how out of sync Charlie was with everyone, even when he was in the moment having fun. Some people just can’t help being disconnected or too grounded, the need to pull back from the crowd and observe isn’t strictly ruled by anxiety, you know?”

While he wasn’t much like Charlie if you asked any of the people that ’know him’ from all the parties he attends, the mentality of the boy in the book managed to strike a few cords in Gavriel that the young boy would have preferred be left unstruck. He was well aware that he made himself the center of attention while also having no emotional investment in basically any interactions that occur at a party, much more afraid of becoming the center of attention through something he had no control over. He liked that he was finally able to read a book with a mindset he could connect with, but it also had him looking at his own mental state and wondering where his own masks ended.

“Mostly, it just made me sad because all of the shit that went down in the book is viable to happen in real life, especially in places like Edenridge where drama and despair seem to keep every street corner company.”

She agreed completely with Rye’s sentiment on Charlie. Book Charlie. Not her Charlie. The main protagonist was extremely thoughtful which put him in both good and bad places. She could relate to the narrator because it was like everything moved around him in slow motion. When Rye related the book to Edenridge, Poppy rewarded that comment with a frown. There were several hints in the book of Charlie’s trauma and then at the end, after Charlie learns to be a wallflower but not a doormat, he embraces life rather than use it as a coping mechanism of letting things wash by him. He lives, he discovers, he pushes onward, becoming one of the people he’s so used to watching. He becomes a character in the story.

“Like rape,” she whispered as Rye nodded solemnly, grabbing her cup of coffee and gingerly drinking it, as she thought about Mordechai. Her best friend. “Or the fact that no matter how hard he tried to move on, Charlie couldn’t. Charlie’s heart belonged to Sam.” Her Charlie’s smile appeared in her mind… god, she fucking hated herself sometimes. “It would always belong to Sam. But as the book says, from Mr. Anderson to Charlie himself, we accept the love we think we deserve. We always do that because most of us, well… we believe we fucking suck and life is just shit, after shit, after shit, only making us realize we were right along. We do suck.” Poppy’s eyes widened when she realized she said too much. She immediately reverted back into her shell. “Sorry… sorry I was having a moment.”

“Please, moment away,” He offered in response, waving her worries off as he stared at her, a small sad quirk of his lips being all his face gave away of his feelings on the matter. He had a feeling Poppy had the same person in mind with the first part of her comment as he did. Decky held himself well, but especially in the bedroom- both safer and more vulnerable in the dark- there were quite a few triggers that Rye has learned to avoid, or work with Decky to nullify even a little bit if they could. The other boy hasn’t said anything outright to Rye, but it wasn’t like this was his first experience with victims of childhood sexual assault either. Cleveland was no Edenridge, but one of things that was comparable between the two places he’s lived is that the crime is fucking ridiculous and domestic assaults happen like crazy, and Rye’s childhood best friend walked around every day with the same look in his eyes as Decky does. They always flinched the same way too.

“Your commentary on the human disposition should be part of the report. Well, maybe a little more well worded for Mr. Beau’s sake, but it’s not necessarily wrong,” he ran the pad of his thumb up the side of his book, watching the pages separate and come back together as they shuffled off his finger. “’We accept the love we think we deserve’ doesn’t just mean being with someone you don’t actually like, or not being able to be with the one you do; it’s about sabotaging any of those chances to get the real love, like you said, or about letting your sense of self disappear for the sake of those around you. If you’re like…permanently changing yourself for someone, your personality or your looks or your speech pattern, whatever it is, you’re accepting the love that you thought the original you deserved. But that’s not you anymore, is it? It’s stale love, expired with the last persona you put up or shed,” And yeah, he knew he was calling himself out for the way he’s acted since arriving in Edenridge: The life of the party, the class clown, all the stupid things he does with Danny on a damn near daily basis- none of that was the Gavriel Shomer of Cleveland. That anxiety ridden wreck has been locked in the closet ever since he himself came out of it and lost his dad to his homophobia. But Poppy doesn’t know any of that, to her this is just an in depth look into the book and its meanings for the sake of this book report. “So in all honesty, most people don’t even accept the love they think they deserve, they except the love that they thought they deserved. You pickin’ up what I’m puttin’ down?”

“Sorta, I don’t know. Your wording is tripping me up, honestly,” Penelope chuckled, her mood while still somber was shifting ever so slightly from this intellectual conversation. “So we’re stuck on our past self, rather than evaluating our now and thinking, hey. This is where I am and I should consider who loves the present me. Like… instead of clinging to your childhood and not being able to let it go because those were simpler times, those were times you found it easier to love yourself, you should learn to love the person you’re becoming?” Love was complicated and it all returned to one obvious thing: we needed to learn to love ourselves before we could love anyone else. Subconsciously, Penelope grabbed onto her teardrop necklace, deep in thought. She was stuck on the concept of love and how her peers went about it. Has Rye ever been in love? Were they too young to believe in love like that?

Rye snapped his fingers and pointed at Poppy. “Exactly!” He began, “People are always changing, so unless you believe that no part of you will ever be lovable and you just have to go through your life accepting what attention people pity you enough to give, there’s no way to really know what love we deserve. It just has to feel right for whatever stage of your life you’re currently in, because the second you start making your way to a new stage, the second you start developing beyond what you- at the time- consider your true self, your view on what you deserve is gonna change,” Rye leaned forward in his seat as he got talking, already feeling a bit bad that Poppy was getting the full-on ramble part of him that he usually kept at bay in social situations. “That’s people’s main problem: they don’t adjust with each stage of life, so their love and their concept of how they deserve it, it… well it’s like never getting new clothes or shoes as you grow up. A grown adult in kids clothes doesn’t work, everything would be stressed, threadbare, and ripped. That doesn’t work and neither does a growing person with a static concept of love.”

“It’s hard to adjust,” Penelope countered, crossing her arms while doing so, “When life takes away things that keep you whole.” Her mind was back on her grief. It’s only been a year since Maxine ‘committed sucide’. She felt like love was far out of reach when she was too busy learning her rewired brain and what she needed to do to create a new normal. A new normal without her sister. “We change because we have to, not because we want to. Adjusting is easier said than done. There’s far too much pain in this world to be able to say, okay, those are my new shoes, goodbye old shoes. Throwing away those old shoes is like throwing away a piece of you. It hurts, like a bitch.”

“I never said you had to throw them away,” Rye volleyed back with no heat in his tone. “Shit man, my ma’s got my baby shoes in storage. Holding on to things you’ve outgrown is fine,” he assured, looking around the library so he had another moment to gather his thoughts before continuing. “Sometimes things just don’t fit anymore through no fault of anyone, and all you do when you keep trying to put them on again is stretch and tear them more until there isn’t anything to hold on to. I mean, what would you rather have? A slowly fading feeling that you can carry with you until you’re ready to let go, or a tattered memory you can’t even seem to remember clearly? It’s the same thing with love, because if you perseverate on the what-could-have-beens you don’t leave any time for the what-can-still-be’s.”

As Rye explained to her his point of view, Poppy grabbed her pen and started fidgeting with it, eventually she was tapping it against her notebook, mildly irritated. It wasn’t his fault what he was saying made her feel like he was telling her how to live her life, when she didn’t even know if he lived. She didn’t know Rye like that. He was a brilliant boy, she’d give him that, but fuck this was annoying. It wasn’t even the fact that it sounded like he knew better than her that was getting to her. What was pissing her off was the more he talked, the more she questioned her friendships. Was she, Charlie, Decky, and Jade outgrowing each other? We’re they all going to stop being friends because the past was the past and was better left on a shelf or locked in a closet? Out of sight, out of mind? “What makes you such an expert in love? If you don’t mind me asking.” she retorted, trying her best to bury her feelings.

She didn’t even know if Rye lost anyone like she did. Was he so in his own world that he didn’t realize it was insensitive to act like she could take in his advice and just be okay with herself and her life? To be okay with the constant changes presented to her, like finding her sister dead in a car after going to a literature convention with her friends? Was he so insensitive to notice that everything he was saying, and so dismissively too, was awful things to say to someone deep in grief? It was like he was telling her to get over Max, and her friends growing up, and just move onto the next day. Unbothered and loving herself. Keep her love for them but be okay that Max was gone, having left this Earth without her, and her friends were growing the fuck up also leaving her behind.

What the fuck was this shit.

Oh wait, that’s right. Allison’s death overshadowed Maxine’s. Rye might not even know that Maxine James was her sister. But he should’ve, right? He spent so much time with Decky…

Jeez, she was really getting in her head now.

“I get what you’re saying but some people just aren’t ready to let go, and that’s okay too.”

Rye tilted his head as he stared at the slight downturn of Poppy’s moving lips, eyes narrowing as he realized he missed something in her tone during the conversation. He really wished he was better at discerning that sort of thing, but between the fluorescent buzzing of the library lights and his own ringing in his ears, he was relying heavily on lipreading while he kept his music a bit louder in his earbuds to block out the noise. But he’d done something wrong, he could feel it deeper than the shallow worry his anxiety was giving him. Somewhere- maybe when he’d compared the book to Edenridge?- this conversation stopped being about the book report. JP had just been teasing him the other day about his ability to miss as many cues in a conversation as a stormtrooper misses Jedis, so maybe he should have taken the hint and paid a bit more attention.

“Ok, ok,” the boy fretted, raising his hands in a sign of peace before reaching up to his ears and pulling the buds out, his eye twitching as he tilted his head against the buzz-ringing that filtered back into his ears. Cracking his neck to relieve a bit of his sudden tension, Gavriel put his earbuds down on the table and folded his twitching fingers together in front of him. “My hearing’s been fucked recently, I’m working on two hours of sleep in like forty hours and I haven’t really talked to anyone about philosophical shit since the last time I hung out with JP, and he knows how I talk,” he clenched his jaw and sent another glance around the library, this time out of anxiety more than an actual need to stall for time. “But I think I pissed you off? Like, I don’t know what I said—”

“Okay, shit. Fuck. Breathe, Rye,” Penelope dropped her pen and also raised her hands in surrender as a sign of peace. Was this what Mordechai was talking about? She heard him talking in passing about how Rye got but she never experienced it before. Not like this. “Bring it back, my turn,” his mouth snapped shut when she looked at him in a way that said zip it before explaining her trigger, “Two weeks ago was the first time in a long time I was able to spend time with all my friends, you know who I’m talking about. They made time for me not because they wanted to spend time with me but because it was a year since my sister died.”

She felt her own anxiety building up as she allowed herself to be vulnerable to a boy that was her partner in English class. Not a best friend. Not even a friend. Just a boy she had to do a book report with. “This really has nothing to do with you. I just am in no place to be okay with what’s going on right now. Night after night I’m left alone thinking Mordechai, or Charlie, or fuck, Jade might follow suit. They might die. They’re already drifting away from me and I have no control over that. And maybe I’m just a little fucked up in the head since I can’t seem to ever think straight. The one person that was always fucking there for me, even when she wanted to strangle me, was my sister. And she’s dead. She’s fucking dead. So I’m sorry for reading too deeply into your words I just can’t fucking accept that the people I love no longer want me in their life like the way things used to be.” At this point, Penelope was hugging herself and heavily breathing. Fuck why did she have to go and say all that shit? “I should go. This, we’ll just try again another day.” Standing up, Poppy quickly began gathering her things.

“Wait, shit- Poppy no,” Rye stood up too, staying on his side of the table so they both still had their space, unsure of how to go about comforting a girl he only knows through stories from a mutual friend. “I’m sorry, I know you said it doesn’t have to do with me but- just, I’m sorry I did what I always do and kept talking until there was a problem. I should’ve had my headphones out, I should have been looking at your whole face and not just reading your lips. If I’d have been paying attention, really paying attention, I never would’ve kept going,” He threw his hand up to scratch nervously at the back of his head bringing his anxious gaze back to her only to see that the girl had frozen in place while he rambled once more. As he watched, tears fell from her eyes and hit the open page of her notebook on the table, soaking into the blank paper. They never had written any of this down for the report.

“See, I’m doing it right now,” He pointed out, his shaky tone attempting at a bit of levity and falling flat. What was he supposed to do? He certainly couldn’t calm her down the way he calmed people he was closer to, and he honestly didn’t have much practice with comforting people he barely knew, especially when he was the one to trigger them in the first place.

‘Hug her, you idiot,’ the voice inside his head that has been sounding like JP more and more every day spoke up. ‘I hug you when you need support.’

“Um, d-do you want a hug?” Rye asked awkwardly, going to open his arms before stopping himself, dropping them back to his sides until he got a response. Some people didn’t like to be touched when they were crying, he doesn’t know if she wants him as close as he is to her now across the table, let alone in her personal bubble. As the sleeves of his jacket fell over his fingers, he realized he had taken Decky’s jean jacket off his floor this morning, meaning the serpent had Rye’s old hand-me-down from his father. He’d have to get this back to the other boy, and when he did that it would be a perfect chance to ask him what the hell is going on with Poppy, someone the serpent talks about all the time but apparently has barely seen lately.

Penelope didn’t really register what Rye was saying because at this point, she had hit a massive low and was choking on her tears and wiping her face, embarrassed, “I-I’m sorry,” she weakly responded. “I don’t m-mean to be a burden. I-I just want them to know I really l-love them. I love… love them more than I love m-myself. I’m s-sorry.” This is why she was supposed to take her antidepressants. To prevent this. A public breakdown. She forgot to tell her mother she needed a refill and now she was crying in front of someone who didn’t deserve this grief. “I’m so sorry…” She really was a burden and this is why when all was said and done, she’d be alone. She’d always be alone. No one wanted to carry her. Not even Charlie.

“Hey, no you’re not a burden. I should know, I’m the king of being a burden on others,” He joked, edging away from the table so she could access him if she so chose. “Decky literally talks about you all the time, I don’t think there’s been a time I’ve seen him when you didn’t come up. He always looks so stupidly happy when he talks about you and the others, even when he’s literally passing out on the spot, I don’t know if that helps, but he’s definitely not forgetting about you, not by a longshot. And I’m sorry I can’t tell you about the others since I don’t know them well, but,” He shifted on his feet and tried to keep his breathing steady as the anxiety kept his heartbeat vibrating. But this he could do, being honest he could do. “You don’t ever have to tell me you’re sorry for having feelings or insecurities,” He assured before explaining, “I was trying to offer you a hug because you look like you really need it, but I don’t know how much you like contact outside of Decky and the others.”

“... I’d like a hug please.” Poppy breathed, unable to breach the distance between her and the other boy. She didn’t know if she was a hugger or not, she knew at least with her friends, she needed to be reminded they still cared, whether it be through word of mouth or them holding her hand… but with Rye he was all she had right now and she desperately needed someone to hold her before the weight of the world became too heavy and she couldn’t hold herself up anymore. “... Please.”

“Yeah, of course, I’m told I give exceptional hugs,” Rye conversed as he stepped forward. “Though it’ll be weird being the tall one in the situation for once,” He wrapped one arm around her shoulder and cupped the back of her head with his other hand before pulling her close, guiding her head onto his shoulder before wrapping both arms fully around her and holding her tight, thinking of how JP and Decky and Danny and everyone that has guided him out of bad attacks held him against them. And like his mom, he gently rocked them side to side in their place, keeping the girl secure and physically stable in his arms in an attempt to get her mentally closer to stable as well. “Is this helping,” He asked quietly after a small moment for his own heart rate to finally slow as the hug helped him through some of his own anxieties. “At all?”

“Mhm,” she replied, wrapping her own arms around him and tightening her grip, almost desperately. This was strange mostly because if she looked up, she’d be inches away from Rye’s face, unlike any of her other friends. She had tall friends. Especially Charlie. Her standing next to Charlie was quite funny since he was the tallest person in their class and she was one of their shortest. Inhaling in and exhaling out, her eyes closed, she smiled, “You smell like Decky…” to some people, the smell of smoke, leather, and sandalwood would not be a pleasant smell, but to Poppy that smell reminded her of home.

“Yeah this is his jacket, I had to patch the dumbass up last night, he got in another fight,” Rye said with a quiet laugh. “He’s fine though, woke up and got around on his own.”

“This book must be a real good book,” Anya leaned up against an archway that led to a hallway, which led to another area of the library. She munched on granola, her sharp eyes observing the emotional duo that was making more noise than they probably realized. “You going to make library lady come out of the hole and be like why you cry? Why the noise? Why a book lead to this?” Anya grinned a toothy grin glancing at Perks of Being a Wallflower, “I glad you liked. You be okay. No more tears. No more tears. Book says this moment, we infinite. Remember that most.” She didn’t read the book, Faye actually read it to her but they didn’t need to know that.

“Thank you, Jane, we were just about to leave,” Poppy pulled her head back and made a face, “You’re all wet because of me.” She looked at his shirt and the soaked spots she made. She’d cried way too much.

“That’s fine,” Rye sniffled in reply once he’d finished laughing at Jane’s interpretation of this scene and the book. Ugh, crying people always made him teary, and all of this was super depressing. “It’s karma for all the people I’ve cried on. But hey, it doesn’t have to be Perks of Being a Wallflower, but do you wanna come over to my apartment and watch a movie? I’ve got some Disney movies that I got from Niles’ little sister for my birthday. Or I think my ma got Netflix last week so there’s probably some good stand up or other comedy…”

“Perks is fine!” Poppy chirped, feeling the overwhelming sensation she had once felt a moment ago gradually taking its exit. “Lets worry about movies when we get to your place. Plus! I can use this opportunity to finally get to know you, seeing how… we hang but we don’t really hang. I mean I feel like we’ve already learned so much already.” Although her eyes were still watery, she was beaming. The release of emotion was exactly what she needed seeing how she hadn’t even cried on her sister’s death day. It was also nice to tell someone all the things she was bottling up. Poppy wasn’t good at holding things in. Look where it got her? Literally falling apart in front of someone unaware of anything that’s going on with her. “Thank you, Rye. For not pushing me away.”

Crunch, crunch, crunch.

Rye’s eye twitched a bit as he smiled at Poppy through the noise of Jane’s granola now added in. “Of course, Poppy,” He answered before he began to turn in order to gather his things up from the table. It was then that he realized his earbuds has fallen to the ground, dragged by the cord after the phone in his pocket when he stood up. Winding them back up and into his hands, he lifted them up to Poppy’s view and asked, “Do you mind, for the walk? I’ll keep them low so I can hear you, I just can’t really do without them much longer.”

“Do what you need to do, Rye, and, to be honest, I had no idea how bad you were seeing how, well, this is the most we’ve ever talked. Ever. I’ll be more conscious moving forward.” Poppy gave Rye a thumbs up and proceeded to turn to the crunching noise where Jane was watching them with her intense gaze. Were her eyes always this striking? They reminded her of snake eyes. Leaving Rye’s embrace, Penelope finished packing her bag before swinging it over her shoulder, “Let’s go homeboy, oh and one last thing,” Poppy gently nudged the boy’s arm in a faux punch. “Next time we talk about philosophy let's avoid the topic of love. I barely understand it so I have no right to talk about it. Capeesh?”

“Well shit, if that’s the benchmark I should’ve kept my mouth shut from the beginning. I don’t stick around anyone long enough for love,” Rye replied while mockingly rubbing at his arm where she’d punched it. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

His response was rewarded with a chuckle and lighthearted simper.

Maybe they could be friends after all. Sure, they had a bumpy first half, but now she was heading to his place to watch a movie.

PROGRESS!