“What is the most ridiculous thing you have ever believed?” Dante questions, arms extended straight out at his sides as he wobbles along an elevated brick wall, struggling to balance himself.

Retreating my hands from my pockets, I pull out my small cigarette box and a lighter.

After retrieving a cigarette, I light it and shove the box back into my jacket. I do the same with my lighter.

As I remove the stick from my mouth, light smoke mixes with the crisp, snowy air around us.

Lifting my head, I meet Dante’s gaze as he comes to a hault.

“What do you mean?” I ask, feeling slightly confused.

He lowers himself so that he is sitting, feet dangling from over the edge. His mitted hands fall into his lap as he awkwardly fidgets with them.

Glancing at his fingers, he begins, “Have you ever had a moment where—“ Pausing, he bites his bottom lip. “Where realization hits you, and you’re just like, ‘holy fuck, I’m an idiot!?’”

I snort, the corners of my lips ticking upwards, but I quickly sober my features.

“Yeah,” I respond, placing the cigarette back into my mouth.

He huffs out a breath of air, and I watch while it disintegrates.

A moment later, I return the question. “Have you?”

He grins and nods. “Oh, yes, plenty of them, but I have to admit, the most disappointing moment was when I realized Santa isn’t real.”

Tilting my head, I furrow my brows and stare up at him judgingly. “You believed in that shit?”

His attention shifts to me. “You didn’t?”

I shake my head.

“Well, Aaron, I wonder how we came to be then.” he muses, his grin dimming just a little.

Leaning against the wall, I stare ahead of me, at the snow-covered streets and the roads masked with ice.

“One fuck-o and one fuck-up.” I mumble, feeling numb. “Sounds pretty perfect to me.”

A chunk of snow falls onto my head when Dante kicks the wall, and I decide it is safer to not be within his vacinity.

“Huh?” he breathes, his face contorted into an odd expression of perplexity.

“You tell me,” I shrug, taking the cigarette out of my mouth again and dropping it onto the pavement.

Squishing it beneath my shoe, I sniffle.

Christ, it’s cold out here.

Hopping down from the wall, Dante lands with a faint thump before approaching me. “Actually, I would like to reverse that.”

I peek up at him once. “The hell is that supposed to mean?”

He plops down onto the bench behind me, and I eventually turn to face him.

Twisting his head around, he stares up at me.

“Tell me about the dumbest thing you ever thought of, whether it’s sappy or not.”

My jaw locks, and I can feel my walls going back up.

“I’m not a sappy person.”

He frowns and rubs the back of his head. “Eh, I don’t know.”

“I’m not.” I argue, my voice sounding more defensive than intended.

He dips his head down but continues to watch me expectantly. “Am I getting to you, Aaron Jacks Alore?”

I cringe. “Don’t say my full name, weird-ass.”

With a sigh, he crosses his left leg over his right. “Would it be better if I sang it? Aaron—“

I cut him off before he can continue. “I swear to fucking god, Upton, keep that shit up, and I’ll rip your vocal chords from your throat, then strangle you with them.”

“Ah,” he closes his eyes and rests his head against the back of the city bench. “Making threats now? What are we, enemies to lovers?”

A shiver racks my body.

“Don’t repeat that ever again.” I warn him, the idea making me queasy.

“Why, are you still stuck on Cassie?”

The hairs on my arm stand up, and my chest tightens at the mention of her.

“Don’t bring her up.”

“Why not?” he questions, interest piqued.

My heary cracks as I truthfully tell him, “I don’t want to speak about her.”

He fumbles with his lip again for a moment before a look of realization fades over his features.

“Because you’re not over the ‘us’ that you two shared.”

He is not wrong, but I am not telling him that.

Rolling my eyes, I take a much-needed step back and groan, “Fuck off.”

A smile takes over his face. “That’s okay. I am content with my Nattie anyway—oh my gosh, she bought this new perfume, and on my soul, I could drown in it.”

An uncomfortable, warm feeling mixes with the familiar, anxious sensation in my chest.

“Yeah?” I prompt him to keep talking, grateful that the focus is off of me.

“Oh, heck yeah,” he nods, smirking. “She smells like Heaven. I love her with everything in me.”

“Are you guys together yet?”

His face falters. “No, but I’m waiting for the right moment. She deserves it to be perfect, considering she is, and I’m not ready yet.”

“How come?”

“Uh,” he shifts around awkwardly. “You know.”

“Nah, I don’t.”

“Pretend you do for my sake. Save my dignity.”

“Okay,” I let out a heavy breath. “That makes sense.”

“Thank you. But one day,” he vows. “One day we will be each others.”

I can’t help but laugh at his seriousness.

As if they aren’t already.

They look at each other as if one is holding the stars, and the other is the galaxy to place them in.

Natalia is the sun that brings out the glow in Dante.

He has always been himself, but he never truly started living it out until she came along.

“What’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve believed, Rayburn?”

Rayburn looks across the booth to see George Hanwood staring at him intently, waiting for his answer. Henry, beside Rayburn like a statue, has his attention on his wine before him, but his head is cocked to the side, waiting to see how Rayburn will answer.

Rayburn rubs at his eye bags, a bruised purple against his pale skin stretching across his sharp bones. “I’ve been told many things that I’ve found to be wrong and just plain stupid, but the primary one that comes to my mind is…that love always lasts.”

George blinks at that—it seems he wasn’t expecting an answer to come out of gloomy Rayburn’s mouth. “Ah, okay,” he takes a look at Henry’s empty glass and stands up, “I’ll—I’ll get some more wine.”

Rayburn doesn’t care for George’s clear escape, he’s too busy trying to ignore the heated gaze Henry is bestowing upon him.

“What made you think that was ‘ridiculous’?”

Rayburn turns to Henry’s quiet words, mouth set in a growing frown. “That’s none of your concern.”

Henry’s green eyes are sharp, pointed and picking to find out the answer to his question. “You are my concern.”

Rayburn avoids his gaze and looks to where George is coming back with a bottle of wine. And a woman.

“Be careful with words like that, assistant. Some people might get the wrong idea.”

Henry scoots closer to Rayburn, making the latter gentleman uncomfortable. “Maybe the idea they’re thinking is the right idea.”

“Would you like to be fired?” Rayburn hisses.

Henry gets the clue. He scoots back to where he was as George and his lady sit down. “No, I don’t think I would.”

Rayburn sips at the wine freshly poured into his glass. He should’ve said no to this invitation; he doesn’t even really know why he agreed in the first place.

His mind is making too many dangerous decisions, he’ll have to buy more pills to make that stop.

(You do not know how hard this was for me to write. I hate Rayburn after he and Oswald split up. Btw, Rayburn’s 24 in this scene and a very famous magicker. He’s one of the top 5 actually. He’s in charge of the overuse and misconduction of magick in the district he’s in.

Anyways, thanks for reading and have a good day! 💙)

“What’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve believed?”

Hmm. How about 10.

1. That I could be myself. That people would except me for what I am.

2. That I was normal. That I was just another sheep in the crowd.

3. That everything is perfect. That the whole fucking world wasn’t BS.

4. That I would find a friend. One that stayed by my side.

5. That when people called me stupid, They were kidding.

6. That when someone died, They weren’t really gone.

7. That I was smart.

8. That depression was fake.

9. That I would never grow up.

10. That I was loved.

I’m sad, but I smile. That’s my life.

“What’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve believed?” She asked with a grin, hungry for an answer. I just smiled nervously, not knowing what to say. “Um, I uh am not sure,” I sat anxiously and started to tap my foot repeatedly on the ground. I quickly thought up a stupid but believable answer. “Um, I, uh, used to think that monsters were under the bed, when, uh, I was a child. But I don’t anymore, just, uh, you know, back then.” I started to fidget with my hair uneasily. I lightly smiled and laughed quietly. She spread her eyes out wide and annoyingly smiled back. I knew she thought I was insane. But I mean it’s because I am, so I can’t blame her. You might wonder why I’m insane. Well instead of monsters under the bed, there are demons. Torturing me every night with their evil smiles of jagged and sharp teeth. They would kill my self esteem and watch it go down the drain. I mean at this point I’ve gotten used to the constant whispering and screaming. The constant pressure from them. The constant pressure from people who have no idea about what happens to me. The fear that surges through me no matter how far I hide under my covers. The questions like, “Why don’t you talk anymore?” And “Are you ok?” “Oh I’m fine,” and “I’m good,” I reply with a smile, but as soon as they can’t see my face my fake happy expression stops and turns into my real face. The hurt face, with plenty of scars and open wounds. The tears that represent an untold story. When I’m not sobbing you can see a sparkle in my eyes. A sparkle that shows I’m just holding in my tears from the world. I know I’ve lost most of my friends, most of myself, and most importantly all the people that used to care about me. Emphasis on the words, “used too”. If you are worth something to someone else you will be loved but because I’ve lost myself no one thinks I’m worthy. That’s until I actually do something to prove myself. The only thing is I shouldn’t have to prove myself! I should be loved just the way I am, but nooooo, that’s not true. That won’t ever happen, because you’re worthless, Aria! The sparkle appears more than ever now these days. People used to ask, “Why do you give so many hugs?” And I would reply with, “Because you never know when you won’t be able to hug that person again.” But now they all ask, “Why don’t you hug anymore?” And I would reply with, “Because no one wants one from me anymore.” And that’s the truth. I’m just insane, and worthless. And I can’t shy away from that anymore.

“What’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve believed?”

That my voice was heard. That I wasn’t just a whisper in a room of people. That I was brave and not afraid of change.

Alas, I am wrong now like always. (I am nothing)

I believed she loved me. I believed he wouldn’t betray me. Both stories included love, One after another ended in a shove. (I am nothing)

I lost trust in people, Yet I keep opening up. I wish I could shut me down, And keep it from coming out. (I need to be something)

“What’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve believed?”

When you said… “I will never be like your old friends.” You said you’d stick with me till the very end. (I was nothing)

Yet here we are. And I hope you think about me As much as I do you. I miss you too much.

I believed you loved me too.

What a sweet lie.

“What’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve believed?”

Tough one. Let me think.

Most ridiculous thing?

Probably when I believed I’d be okay. Years of anger piling up on me. Bury it, watch the ground. Don’t let it bubble up. Sound the alarms, slam the doors, build walls.

As soon as I see the

STORM.

Run and run. But I can’t hide. Past will chase me, A shadow, a beast.

I don’t know how to talk about it. Small things will trigger me.

Words said before. I won’t mention it. But I’ll let you know- That words hurt.

Get mad and I talk so fast. People think I’m rapping. Pull my hoodie low and grab the mic, go to singin’.

Rapping writes, feeling my feelings. Jot them down- Then I erase.

Want ‘em to feel the vibe. Touch my shit and I lose it. Correct me and I put facts.

Don’t touch that, no.

I see the small things, go crazy. I see the big things, blow it off.

People pissed ‘cus I’m honest. People pissed, I’m straightforward.

Tried living by what I was told to be. Didn’t work, fuck it all, I don’t care. Hate the way you look at me.

Some poor, cold thing. This ain’t a dog commercial.

No sad music here. No teary eyed pups.

Nah, bub. Don’t try to give me sweet-treat words.

Don’t try to sugar coat, cover the pill in peanut butter.

I might not be a dog- I might not bark. I don’t give warnings.

No, not a dog. But bitch, I bite.

I wonder if they knew how it affected her. If they even cared. Surely, when you they people through so much they must feel something… but is it ever remorse? Or do they just revel in her misery, her anguish, her pain. Life was never kind to her, not really. When she was just a little child her so called friend tarnished her innocence and then commandeered her brother to take part in her dirty work. Torturing her. She was just a kid. She fought her way out only to be stalked by a monster of a man hiding himself behind the face of a young man ready to court her. She was almost none the wiser until things turned creepy and she trusted her intuition and was right. He still shows up from time to time. It makes her nervous. But he hasn’t made contact since, like the police told him he shouldn’t. She rushed into marriage. Everyone knew it, talked about it, judged them for it. But they were two young dumb kids caught up in the moment. And they did love each other. Or at least she loved him. He wasn’t always kind to her though. He beat her up with his words , and wouldn’t let her dress in certain ways. She gave him two sons, she also lost two of his babies. One unknown and one a daughter. And she thought despite everything that it was them against everyone else, because that’s how they started. But that wasn’t the case. He shattered her little world when she found out he let another woman’s head between his legs which only led to other things. Broke her down when she was already out from losing her daughter. Started blaming things on her.. And pushing her further and further down and til she thought there was going to be no way out . She hooked up with a dad from her son’s school because she was starting to finally feel like she wanted to feel again. And it was nice while it lasted but she wasn’t wanting a fling. Her first real kiss happened when she was in high school with her first real boy friend. And she always thought about him. Was always curious about where he was and how he’d been. And was always trying to find him to no avail, until then. Hidden away by another name she found him. Finally. So she hit send on the little friend request button and decided to let fate decide. What a whirlwind that created. Connecting almost right away with things and all these feelings coming into play. But he was taken, yet told her she was his choice anyway. Making plans, endless conversations and late night communication. Cultivating a connection she’s never felt before. For him to put her in her place and take it all away. But she was in to deep. She loved him. She was far to invested to just let him be. He was to important. But it stings a little when she knows how effortlessly they fall into their rhythm without even trying. How easy it is to just be herself . How could something so effortless be so horrible? Sometimes you can only fight something so long til it demands to be real. Life has a funny way of making things happen. Yet, it was like she was just never enough for anyone. Because no one chose her. Not really. No one ever stayed. Her own family even treats her as if she’s nothing. Like she’s lesser then dog shit scrapped off of their shoes onto the curb. Always pushing and pushing , knowing exactly what buttons to press because she made her loneliness and lack of love commonplace. So they dig in with their claws and rip her apart knowing it will crush her because they know, they see how hard she tries just to be alive and have relationships. And they see just how she is left by everyone she’s ever loved. So I wonder if they know how it affected her. How each eruption, turned into another implosion and another crisis. Another battle with herself in her head where there was already far to much noise. I wonder if they cared, they couldn’t. Because each and every time they seen her break they came back to knock her down again. She’s crying out for someone to see her, to choose her, to love her. But there is too much noise in the void, she was shouting so loud she lost all her will, all her voice.

Whats the most ridiculous thing I believed I used to believe that she was nice That we could be friends I used to believe that it would last forever and ever never falling apart I used to believe that a wall protected our friendship A wall that would never allow anything to get in the way I used to believe that friends lasted forever that she would remain our friend forever I was dead wrong I was so dead wrong

“What’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve believed?” My collage room mate Halie suddenly asked me it wasn’t unusual for her to ask me random questions like that she did it quite often and it was just one of her personality quirks “I don’t know I never really thought about it before” I said with out looking at her “Oh come on you can think of something” she said I did turn to look at her then she was sitting crosslegged on her bed looking at me with her head tilted slightly her blonde hair in pigtails her baby blue eyes wide she was dressed in her sleep wear which consisted of a white t-shirt and boy boxers I sighed “I don’t know just stupid kid stuff like Santa and the tooth fairy stuff like that” “Oh come on you can do better than that” “Well when I was really little I had a clown puppet hanging up in my bed room but it made a scary shadow on my wall at night and I was afraid it would come to life grab me and carry me away” “Really for me it was just that I thought my grandma never ate at least I never saw her eating when I was a kid I mean once I hit pre-teens I saw her eat and was old enough to know that just because you don’t see somebody do something doesn’t mean they don’t” “Yeah and by the time I hit age 8 I realized how silly my fear was” “Ha what childish beliefs” I nodded in agreement “childish beliefs”

“What’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve believed?” Vince shifted uncomfortably onto his back and pulled his torn plaid blanket up to his chin with his unshackled hand. The question caught me by surprise, so much to the point that I was unsure if he was asking me or one of the others. I waited a moment for someone to respond, but no one did. Vince’s head lolled to one side, and I felt his gaze settle on me like dust on an old wardrobe. Despite my better judgment, I returned it. “That someday we may make it out of this mess,” I said with a light sigh. My heart hammered in my freckle-stained chest at the thought of the hundreds of kids stuck inside the warehouse. I should have done something. I could have gotten them out… “You’re thinking of them, aren’t you?” His voice was soft enough to be lost within the cool, chilled breeze of the autumn night, but somehow, I could only hear him. I could only hear the sorrow laced between each word he ever so carefully spoke. There was something about the quiet sound of his voice that calmed my heart - brought me peace. I couldn’t describe it. I could feel the apology seeping through his words, one syllable at a time. But he’s the bad guy, I reminded myself. He’s the reason you can’t sleep at night. Ripping myself out of the trance he’d put me under, I peeled my eyes away from his icy gaze and turned my vision towards the rustling leaves waltzing above our camp. At last, I responded. “I’ve never stopped thinking about them.” Almost immediately, Vince sat up and shifted himself to where he was sitting directly in front of me, his back to the fire. The flames made his blonde hair white, his tan skin speckled with red. It wasn’t far from the image I had seen while escaping the warehouse just a week ago. “Then what are you going to do about it?” Any trace of softness or sorrow in his voice had been burned by the flames dancing behind him. Anger rushed through me. How could he be so insensitive? So cruel? Had he finally become his dreadful father? Angry and a bit dazed, I spat back, “You are a COMPLETE moron, Vince Katz. Do you have no sympathy for the hundreds of children you left to die in the stupid warehouse that, oh, I don’t know, you told us was a safe house? I cant even begin-“ “-Izzy-“ “-to understand how someone could be so selfish and as evil-“ “-Izzy, please-“ “-as your selfish little-“ “IZZY.” Somehow, his hands had ended up on my shoulders, and my finger was pointing right in his face, which had a mouth hanging half open in amazement and wide eyes plastered onto it’s surface. “Are you done?” He remarked after a moment of electrified silence, in which I only answered with a dramatic slump back onto my sleeping bag. He stayed in his spot, his back to the fire. Vince looked away for a moment, running a hand through his tangled hair. My arms were crossed in front of my chest, my heart still pounding in my chest from the anger I felt towards Vince Katz. “I didn’t mean it like that, Izzy. You know I didn’t.” His voice was just above a whisper, but I could have heard it from a mile away. “Do I, now? What makes you so sure?” He grinned. “Because I’m Vince Katz. I know everything.” I let out a sarcastic laugh, shaking my head in the process. “Then I suppose you knew that your father was going to set our people’s safe house on fire, too? Now that, kind sir, is why you are just like your father. A murderer. A killer. A fool.” I spit out the last word like poison, and it was only then that Vince’s confidence wavered. But it was only for a moment. Vince stared at me with his icy blue eyes, and a cold breeze passed between the two of us - cold, dark, and electric. “I didn’t know, Izzy. I don’t know how I can convince you otherwise.” I gave him a half-convinced look. Vince looked away, and then slowly returned his gaze. “But If I do know one thing, it’s that…” his voice - his confidence - quavered, “that above all else, I wouldn’t have ever let them hurt you, not even for a second.”