Taygete bathed in the light of the setting sun, the chill, mountain air grazing her skin with the evening’s final bite. At last, she escaped the noise. But this peace would never last, and Angelli would soon have to return down to the land below—for now she was queen of the mountain.
A small mewling cut through the silence as a small cat appeared, taking notice of Angelli. A suitable first subject for her reign. To commemorate the occasion, Angelli set her phone to record as she beckoned the cat closer. Cautiously, the cat approached. Instead of offering reverence, the cat delivered a scratch and a hiss before scurrying off.
And so it was treason.“Fuck you too then, you little bastard,” Angelli scoffed, treating the fresh marks on her hand. At the very least, Catherine would enjoy the moment. She sent the recording to her, followed by a snapshot of the sunset. Angie was never really the kind for sentimentality. Never really the kind to consider the world around her, as Cat would eventually find out. But she was learning. She was trying.
Her detached mind shifted into gear along with her motorcycle, riding back down the trail and into the city. The noise reared its ugly head once again, and the rare moment of peace was shunted into the back of her mind.. The Galleria rose above the street, towering higher and higher as she drew closer. There was something odd about the mall and the power it held over people. It was a symbol of damn near everything she hated, yet it brought her a strange catharsis by being there. Maybe it was the glamour and pretty lights. Perhaps she was no better, falling for its charms.
She eventually found a suitable parking space among the clusters of cars in the lot and strolled in along the crowds passing through. She deftly swept past women attempting to spritz her with sample perfumes and offer her various makeup supplies. Angelli may have had her reputation, but these women were fearless. Relentless. She managed to escape unscathed by grabbing a random man as a human shield—unfortunately for him, he now had the combined smell of “No. 14 Elle McLaren” and “No. 18 Pastel de Urinario”—his displeasure reflected in his screams of agony.
With the worst of the cosmetics department behind her, Angelli made her way into the food court via the escalator. She piled a tray with a slice of pizza and a cup of cola, and actually paid for it this time. Cat wasn’t too hard to spot, even with how inconspicuous she thought she was being. Angelli set her tray down and sat across from her while she was distracted by her phone.
“Watching one of your old videos again?” she asked, brushing aside a stray lock of hair. “Careful not to fall in love with yourself now.”
Of all the people that he could finally talk to, he didn’t expect to meet one so neurotic. Still, beggars couldn’t be choosers. Apprehension was a natural reaction for anyone seeing a such a ghastly sort such as himself, and to that he gave credit. John watched as Cherry barraged him with questions and disjointed ramblings, only offering a shrug in return.
“Still can’t get a name out of you, can I?” he asked. “Very well. I think I’ll just call you ‘Happy,’ since you’re such a ray of sunshine. From the looks of it, you don’t seem to like a lot of things.”
Cherry’s attempt to prod John’s shin was futile, as her foot passed through him without resistance. He looked down and then back at her, as if bewildered by her method of rationalization. “If I can’t even remember my actual name,” John went on, standing up. “Then I’m afraid I’m not going to be good for explaining why you can see me. Hell, I’d like to know as well. But to answer your question, what I
really want is a solution to my predicament. I don’t very much like being a shadowy bogeyman, y’know.”
John leaned in closer, venom seeping into his voice. “And do you know what it’s like to be invisible, intangible, and immortal all at once? It’s boring. Dreadfully boring. What
I want is an end to it all. I need someone to help me revert to who I was before I became like this… or find a way to actually kill me. Right now, you’re the only person I can work with. So what do you say, Happy? Of course, it wouldn’t be right if I didn’t offer anything in return. If you help me, then in the meantime I can be your eyes and ears wherever you need me to be. You’d be surprised the kind of dirt you can get on people when they think they’re alone.” Finishing what he had to say, John stepped back giving Cherry room to breathe.
“You have nothing to lose.”
Star watched on as Isaac stirred about hopelessly in his own pain, rebuffing his groans with looks of disappointment. She knew what lip service sounded like when she heard it, and Isaac was only going to learn the hard way. Star leaned back in the booth as she imparted her last bit of wisdom.
“Yeah, I know all about your history with Herse,” she said. “And I would think that all the blood that was spilled would be enough to keep you from going back. Look, you’re a grown-ass man now, and I’m not going to try and run your life for you. But take it from me, there are better places to end up than a ditch riddled with bullets. You have the liberty of choice, which is a lot more than any street rat that crawled out of Herse could ever say. If you don’t care about yourself, then think about the people that do. Don’t choose to be stupid.”
After saying her piece, Star left the booth and disappeared back into the nightclub. Aurora came along and began to wipe down the table.
“Miss Star isn’t angry at you,” she assured Isaac. “She just worries for you, even if she doesn’t outright show it.” Aurora gathered the empty plate and mug placed them on a cart. “I was… in a similar situation once. At the time, I endured with what I was going through, as I thought it was the best option for my future. Miss Star found me and told me that she could help me, but I would have to say that I wanted to. That it would have to be my choice. I was stubborn at the time. Uncertain of what would happen to me. In the end, I made my decision and I’m glad for it. I’ve been here ever since.”
For someone as reserved as Aurora, this may have been the most she had ever shared with a former coworker, let alone a patron. Chances were, something about Isaac’s story had resonated with her. “If you’d like another drink, come up to the bar,” she said. “I’ll take care of your tab for tonight, just don’t tell Star.” She then left Isaac to tend to the other patrons.
