Chapter Text
Lord Huron
“I am not the only traveler
Who has not repaid his debt
I've been searching for a trail to follow again
Take me back to the night we met”
September 2012
It happened instantly.
Truthfully, it was felt instantly.
The girl was seated on the floor, wearing a simple navy turtleneck, her long legs wrapped in tight black pants, crossed in front of her. Her slender back rested against the wall in a dimly lit hallway; the only deserted place in the otherwise crowded mansion. The only quiet place in a house overflowing with loud music, drunken laughter, and staggering idiots partying. Hard.
Right there, among empty bottles and the thick vapor of alcohol and sweat, her gaze was fixed on the wall across from her. A high ponytail of dark blue hair framed her sharp features; furrowed brows, defined cheekbones; until she noticed the other woman stumbling at the top of the stairs that led into the same hallway she had sought refuge in.
The second she lifted her head, and their eyes met, blue sky meeting stormy sea, it happened.
A rush of blood to the head. It barely lasted three heartbeats, but it was enough.
Violet knew.
There was no denying it, even though she’d never experienced this before. Something shifted, and it would NOT shift back.
She was hooked.
It was made for movie screens.
Cliché. Stupid. Completely unreasonable.
But when you know, you know.
She quite literally felt like falling.
Most people would’ve denied it. Because who knows what the future might bring, right? They would’ve felt it, and immediately reasoned themselves out of it. Because feelings are just unpredictable.
Because we remain, at the end of the day, the helpless subjects of waves of emotions. They come and go like the tides. Slaves of moon cycles and ticking clocks
Surely it was just the heat of the moment.
We all know emotions are whimsical creatures, and we instinctively protect ourselves. It’s only natural. We’re only humans after all. But Vi wasn’t most people. She didn’t lie. She didn’t hide from anything. And most importantly, she never lied to herself.
What would be the point?
Just because you feel something doesn’t mean you have to act on it, or talk about it, or even show it. But you can acknowledge it. That’s fine. No one’s going to dig into your brain and discover the pathetically romantic, love-novel-worthy crap that brews in there.
And you can only master what you own up to.
She knew because of the sudden, overwhelming silence.
Because holding her gaze was as easy as breathing… and as unbearable as a deep cut.
Because of the roar of her heartbeat vibrating in her chest, the sudden weakness in her knees, and the aching swell in her chest that didn’t feel like fear; but something far worse.
If her frontal lobe hadn’t been working overtime, inhibiting her every impulse, her body would’ve already surged forward; drawn by scent, by touch, by instinct.
Maybe she would’ve just fallen to her knees, surrendering to the absurdity of it all.
She was seeing so much in these irises that she was invaded by an army of things she couldn’t name.
She didn’t need to.
Those seconds lingered.
And lingered.
And lingered.
Endlessly.
She could swear an entire eternity was sealed within them, rooting her to the sticky floor, etching a mark that would outlast her own lifetime.
Surely, time had stopped. The world beyond these walls must have collapsed into silence and ash.
Except it hadn’t.
The woman’s gaze slid back to the wall, silent, hands still resting on her knees; probably assuming the stranger would just move along. So calm. So composed.
How could she be, when Vi was having a fucking epiphany; raw, sudden, and pathetic enough to make her hate how much she pitied herself.
It didn’t matter.
There was something about the way that bubble of warmth wrapped itself around the most beautiful person she'd ever seen; something sacred, almost. And it had reached her too, whether the other woman wanted it or not. Now, Vi wasn’t sure she could leave it behind.
The bass from the party still thrummed through the mansion, echoing from two floors down, but Vi barely heard it. The shouting, the laughter, the music…they were all irrelevant noise. She wasn’t here for that. Never had been.
She only realized how deep she’d fallen into it when her fingers began to tremble around the glass in her hand. Rum and Coke. Half-full. Forgotten.
That reaction was unacceptable.
So she sat down. A few steps away, near the top of the stairs. Just outside the orbit of the other girl’s peace. She stretched out one leg, bent the other, propped an arm on her knee. And stared at the wall, too. Right next to her.
The woman still looked utterly unfazed. Like she couldn't be more bored if she tried.
The silence thickened again. Not awkward. Not cold. Just full.
Vi took a deep breath and closed her eyes.
She was a paradox made flesh. A hurricane of stillness. Chaos flooding in perfect harmony.
How could something so dizzying, so immense, feel so soothing? How could the tight knot in her throat be the only thing keeping her grounded?
Nothing seemed to exist but the sheer need to answer those damn questions. Two forces crammed into a space too tight not to clash
She used to be loud. Used to be a cocky asshole with a big mouth and a tendency to hit first and talk later. She wasn’t like that anymore. Life has its ways of grinding down the sharp edges.
Vi had accepted it. Or learned to, at least; because what choice did she have?
And maybe silence had grown on her. Comfortable. Safe. Like armor you wear on the inside.
But the thought of never hearing this woman’s voice? Unbearable.
She wasn’t the smartest girl in the world. Never claimed to be. But she’d never felt this dumb.
Fuck it.
Her voice barely rose above a whisper.
“You hiding?”
Cerulean eyes turned toward her again, one brow rising in silent question; and then, the faintest curve of a smile tugged at her lips.
“I don’t know,” she said, voice soft and lightly accented. “Doesn’t it require someone to be looking for you?”
God.
Her voice was low, gently drawling. Like velvet, sliding right into Vi’s ears. And that accent; fuck. That accent was going to kill her. It twisted in her gut and shot straight to her spine. Her cheeks flushed before she could stop it, and her eyes widened just slightly.
Her vocal cords might as well have been ripped out; words just got stuck somewhere between her throat and her pride.
The gorgeous woman had both brows raised now, clearly waiting for some kind of response.
Get it together, you moron!
“No,” Vi said quickly, gaze dropping as she shook her head. “Only for people to be looking at you.” To her relief, her voice came out steady. Grounded.
“I guess you’re right,” the woman responded in an exhale.
So…not much of a talker either, uh?
“So, who dragged you here?” She didn’t really care about the answer. She just needed to hear her voice again. Needed more of it.
The woman let out a small laugh. Vi nearly groaned.
This had to stop. Please; don’t ever stop.
“Actually, a friend of mine is part of this fraternity,” she said. “And another friend was desperate to come, but wouldn’t show up alone. So…” She trailed off, her brow furrowing just a little.
“Oh God. That sounds like a terrible line from a teen drama, doesn’t it?” she added, a little snort escaping her.
It was Vi’s turn to laugh.
“Well, guess this happens in real life too,” she said, still grinning. “Why didn’t you want to come?”
She wasn’t sure why her mouth only seemed capable of forming questions tonight. Maybe because anything else felt too dangerous. Too exposing.
“I’m not big on socializing, I suppose,” the woman answered, her tone quieter now. “I just don’t… seem to fit in at events like this. My friend Mel told me to give it a try, but…”
She shrugged. “Why would this time be any different?”
“Yeah, I get that. I only started coming to these not long ago, but…It’s always the same, right? Whether it’s TV or real life. Clichés stacked on top of clichés. Rich kids partying hard, fucking around while totally wasted. Pretending it matters.”
She paused, realized how bitter she sounded, and softened her tone a little.
“You’d think things would evolve, right?”
Truth was, she hated this scene. Not the chaos itself, but the entitled swagger that came with it.
But business was business. And these parties were good for business. Since she’d started crashing college events, she’d made more money than she cared to admit.
It hadn’t been too hard to find a student contact willing to give her a heads-up when something big was in the works; especially once the right people knew what she had to offer. She showed up whenever she could, careful not to draw too much attention.
“Well, considering the first fraternity was founded in 1776 and probably involved just as much debauchery and hazing, I’d say… you’re right again!” the breathtaking woman said, grinning now.
More.
Vi tilted her head, intrigued. “Oh really?”
“Yes. Although, like most things, it’s not all bad. The original purpose was to pursue knowledge and share it with other brilliant minds. The motto was ‘Love of learning is the guide of life.’”
She paused, then added, more softly, “It’s never just good or bad. Reality doesn’t work that way. It’s rarely Manichean, if ever.”
The way her eyes lit up when she spoke, animated, passionate; was honestly dazzling. If Vi thought she’d looked beautiful in the shadows, she was fucking radiant now.
“Wow… It’s kind of amazing, being able to see the good in things. Maybe you could teach me how? I could really use it.” The smile that came to her lips was unfiltered, involuntary.
And then came the reward. A real laugh. Not a snort, not a chuckle, an actual laugh.
Vi swore it wrapped around her like heat. She felt herself melting on the spot, silently praying it wasn't glaringly obvious. She tried to play it cool, but the woman was staring at her now. With genuine interest. It was intimidating as hell.
“I am all about boring facts. I highly doubt you’d find any lesson from me interesting.” Her voice remained light, but beneath lingered a resignation that Vi found troubling.
“There happen to be circumstances when I absolutely love boring facts. Don’t underestimate me.” Vi replied, her voice dipping into a raspier, more serious register.
Instantly, the atmosphere between them thickened, charged with an intensity that pressed heavy against her chest. God, the way their eyes locked was so powerful Vi felt dangerously close to tears. And she never cried anymore.
Vi swallowed thickly, her heartbeat pounding so loud in her temples it drowned out everything else.
It felt like it was pumping molten gold; dense, burning, and unbearably precious.
“Wh-What circumstances?” The incredibly beautiful woman stuttered; actually stuttered; and Vi thought she might lose it completely.
If they’re delivered by a stunning woman with eyes as wide and clear as the summer sky. If her voice sounds like an angel with an accent that makes me want to steal her breath, taste her tongue, trace her perfect, graceful neck and bury my lips into her skin… If they make her smile in a way that brightens her entire face, rendering every beautiful thing in this world and the next dull in comparison.
But she couldn't say that. First, because it was unbearably corny and embarrassingly sentimental. Second, because she didn’t even know this woman. Yet here she was, right in front of her, lips parted, holding her breath, waiting expectantly. There was something there, undeniably potent, sending shivers cascading down Vi’s spine.
“What are you majoring in?” she asked, blatantly sidestepping the question.
The woman appeared momentarily taken aback but recovered swiftly.
“History, with a minor in Philosophy.” She answered simply.
“Hmm. Why?” Vi couldn’t seem to stop herself from pressing further
Clearly, the angel hadn’t expected this follow-up either.
“Oh. Well… because I find it fascinating, for starters,” she explained earnestly, her expression turning thoughtful. “I believe knowing the past is essential to understanding the present and anticipating the future. Philosophy demands critical thinking, forces you to reflect deeply. History grounds you in time, reminding you where you come from; not to trap you there, but precisely so you can move forward. Remembering is crucial if we’re to avoid endlessly repeating the same terrible mistakes, isn’t it?”
“Isn’t that the definition of insanity or something?” Vi teased softly, gaze unwavering.
The stranger's eyes widened slightly, locked irreversibly onto Vi’s blue-grey ones, as if unwilling; or unable; to break away.
“It is,” she admitted, a soft surprise blooming into unmistakable pleasure on her face. “According to Einstein, anyway. Doing the same thing over and over again, yet expecting a different outcome.”
“Okay, so obviously you have an above-average IQ and you’re passionate about learning and all that, but... there must be something you do just for fun, right?” Vi wanted more. Inexplicably, desperately more.
“Shooting”
“Like…guns?”
“More like rifles. It runs in the family. And I happen to be an excellent shot.” She replied confidently. It suited her. Damn, it was hot.
“Holy fuck, that’s something I’d really love to see!” Vi exclaimed, completely honest.
“Really?”
“Hell yeah!”
“Well…who knows, maybe someday you will…” she teased softly, her smirk bordering on seductive; or at least, Vi interpreted it as such. Honestly, everything about this woman was seductive.
“I hope so. Anything else? Besides the shooting?” Vi pressed further. She wasn’t even pretending to be subtle anymore.
“I play the piano” The softness of her voice alone was music.
“Oh, I can totally picture it. Your hands…” Woah, woah, Vi, stop there! Shut up!
“I mean, I could just imagine… your long fingers…on the keys” she added awkwardly. Smooth, Vi. Smooth as sandpaper. Vi shut her eyes, cringing inwardly, oblivious to the woman’s reaction. Her silence was terrifying. Had she messed this up?
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”
“No, it’s alright, really. Long fingers are actually…quite helpful” she murmured gently.
“Damn you’re interesting…” The words slipped out before Vi could stop them. She felt herself spiraling, helpless against it.
“Am I?” The girl’s voice was shy, yet her smile carried an unmistakable hint of playful confidence. Was that cockiness Vi detected? Another fucking attractive trait.
“Yes,” vi admitted quietly, cheeks burning, and it wasn’t due to the alcohol. She hadn’t touched her drink since first laying eyes on her. She desperately wished she could keep her composure.
“And now I also know I was right all along.” Vi continued, forcing smugness into her tone as compensation.
“About what?” Oh, that accent…
“You shouldn’t be hiding.” Vi’s voice softened, sweet sincerity bleeding through despite her best efforts.
“And how would you know that?” The marvel laughed incredulously
“Isn’t it obvious?” Vi raised an eyebrow playfully
“I’m afraid it’s not”
“Hmm,” the pink-haired woman hummed thoughtfully. “Well, it's because of, you know…” She paused dramatically, thoroughly enjoying the way those deep blue eyes watched her closely, expectantly. “My superpowers,” she finally whispered, conspiratorial, knowing exactly how silly it sounded.
The girl’s laugh that followed was easily the best sound Vi had ever heard.
“Oooh, so you're secretly a superhero who’s finally come to save me from my misery? Took you long enough,” she teased back, her eyes sparkling.
“Exactly. Guess there’s no point hiding it anymore.” Vi feigned seriousness, cleared her throat dramatically. “I’m Batman.”
“Well, that’s unfortunate, really” she replied smoothly, eyes glinting with mischief. “Because, as a matter of fact, Batman doesn't have any superpowers. He relies solely on his strength and very expensive gadgets to fight evil. So…” Her grin widened adorably, and her face softened, highlighting her delicate features even more; those striking cheekbones, the subtle gap between her front teeth, and that irresistible dimple above her chin.
“Oh man…” Vi pretended deep disappointment. “Couldn’t just let me have this one, could you?”
“Sorry.”
“You really do have all the answers,” Vi mused softly.
“I most certainly don’t. Like, I still don’t know why you thought I shouldn’t be hiding, considering you don’t even know me.”
The playfulness had vanished, seriousness filled her gaze now. Vi could see the curiosity in those blue diamonds; so vivid it felt solid, like she could hold it in her hand. Tangible; like a gemstone carved out of light
“I’m warning you, my real secret is boring compared to being a fake super-powered Batman. But if you insist…I guess I’m just observant,” Vi admitted with a casual shrug. Her new companion didn't respond, clearly hoping Vi would continue.
“Alright, so from what I've noticed, the best things usually take a little effort to uncover. But once you do, it’s a reward. The fact that I found you here, instead of downstairs with some random guy’s tongue down your throat, says a lot already. You seemed calm, patient, lost in thoughts I probably couldn’t even begin to understand. Honestly, someone would have to be blind not to notice you're different. And being different is beautiful. Beautiful things shouldn't hide away.”
Wow. She’d really rambled on, hadn’t she? God, that was cheesy. Vi felt immediately self-conscious, words never having been her strongest suit, even less so since the days when she never shut up. Carefully, she risked a glance upward to gauge the other woman’s reaction. The woman appeared genuinely stunned, taking a moment to process Vi's words, eyes unwaveringly fixed upon her. All Vi could think was how mesmerizing those eyes were.
Eventually, the woman cleared her throat softly, and Vi had to strain slightly to hear her quiet response
“It would be a girl’s tongue…”
Wait, what? Oh. Oh.
So, the incredible person she’d just met was into women. A beautifully tormenting realization. Vi managed only a gentle smile, exhaling softly, unsure how else to respond. Dreaming was fine, but reality needed acknowledging: this woman was brilliant, clearly privileged, destined for great things.
Vi was just trouble, working in a garage and dealing drugs to support what little family she had left. They belonged to entirely different worlds. So she’d settle for basking in the other woman’s light for as long as she could. She’d savor the presence of this tall, kinda quirky, definitely nerdy woman—until it ended. It was fine.
“So… you’re quite surprising yourself.” The woman finally broke the silence. Her eyes were uncertain, shy, yet radiant.
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“So what about you? What do you do for fun?” she asked Vi.
That was an easy one.
“Boxing. And mechanics. Cars too, I guess—but mostly bikes. I started learning when I was really young, and now I’ve got my own. Built it from scratch. Took me a while to get it running exactly the way I wanted, and to make it look good, too. But now? It’s perfect.”
“You-you ride a bike?” Pretty face was visibly impressed.
“Yeah, I do. Ever tried it?” Vi suddenly pictured slim arms wrapped around her waist, driving through winding mountain roads on a sunny day, a vision she couldn’t shake off.
“Oh no! Never. But…I think I would like to.”
“Does it scare you?”
“Not really. Not if I trust whoever’s driving.”
“Hmm. Who knows, maybe someday you will.” Vi teased, echoing the woman’s earlier words. The genuine smile she received in return made her heart skip painfully.
“What are you studying here?” the girl asked next.
Oh no. Now she just wanted to throw up.
The thick wad of bills in her inside jacket pocket felt heavier than ever—like it was mocking her. Shame settled in her solar plexus like a slab of lead, quiet and immovable. She couldn’t say it. She hated lying—but she couldn’t speak the truth either. What would this brilliant woman think if she knew why she was really here? Would she still look at her the same way? Would she ever want to talk to her again? Some risks just weren’t worth taking.
So she deflected. Again.
“We already established you’re pretty smart. Why don’t you guess?” Vi offered lightly, masking her unease.
Blue eyes lit with amused curiosity.
“Hmm. Alright,” she hummed thoughtfully. “Keep in mind, this is purely based on stereotypes from our short conversation and…physical appearance. Though, now that I think of it, that feels judgmental, so…maybe we shouldn't play.” She frowned adorably. How could someone this classy be this ridiculously cute?
“Oh, come on!” Vi laughed warmly, desperate now for theories. “Give it a try. I promise I won’t be offended.”
“Fine,” the woman sighed dramatically, taking a deep breath as if about to leap off a cliff. “Perhaps Art? Or something sports-related, because you’re obviously very…um…” Her voice trailed off into a shy blush that made Vi’s heart flip.
Violet Lane would willingly suffer through hell and back to witness that blush again and again; but she'd never admit it. Not even under torture.
“Yeah?” Vi prompted with a playful grin, determined that the sentence had to be finished.
“It’s just-well, you are obviously…in great shape.” She finally managed, clearly struggling to maintain her composure.
She could get used to this. She wouldn’t.
“Thank you, stranger.” Vi couldn’t resist winking, delighting as the other woman quickly looked away, visibly shy. “But why Art though?”
“I don’t know… I guess I picture you as kind of a free spirit. Sort of.” The beauty kept her gaze on the ground. What a shame.
“You keep flattering me now!” Vi teased gently
“No, I didn’t mean- I just…”
“Oh no, don’t worry about it. I like it.” Another playful wink, rewarded with a quick, amused glance from the captivating woman in front of her.
“So…was I even close?” Blue eyes sparkled mischievously, lips curving into a charming smirk.
“Well…” Vi hesitated, torn between truth and evasion.
“Caitlyn?” another voice interrupted from down the hallway. “Caitlyn, are you there?”
Both women stood abruptly, feeling like teenagers caught in mischief. Another woman approached gracefully, her white dress striking against her dark skin. Relief flickered in her hazel eyes when they landed on the slender, definitely taller woman Vi had been speaking to. Caitlyn, apparently. Beautiful. So proper.
“There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you! Everything alright?” The newcomer glanced briefly at Vi before returning her attention to Caitlyn.
“Yes, Mel, everything is fine.” Caitlyn replied, a note of irritation in her voice; or was Vi imagining it, projecting her own frustration?
“You just vanished, and it’s been a while. I was just checking in. Who’s your friend?” Mel’s gaze shifted fully to Vi, prompting Caitlyn to turn as well, clearly realizing she didn’t even know Vi’s name.
“Looks like someone was looking for you, after all.” Vi exhaled softly, smiling faintly. “I was just leaving anyway. It was great meeting you, Caitlyn.” Her eyes lingered deeply, memorizing every shade of blue, every subtle reflection for later recollection.
“I hope you both have a good night,” she finished softly, bashfully averting her gaze.
She turned on her heels and fled.
Down the stairs—too loud, too fast—through the half-empty room that blurred as she passed.
She didn’t stop until the air hit her face. Until she’d put distance between her and the house.
Until her hands were gripping the helmet tucked in the top case of her bike.
Then it hit. The bubble had burst. And suddenly, she couldn’t breathe.
It felt like being punched in the gut—but deeper. Like her ribs were folding inward, like her lungs forgot how to hold air. She had lost it, up there. Completely. Reality didn’t settle back in; it slammed into her, without warning. A wave, all weight and no mercy. And Vi hadn’t been ready for the violence of it.
She slipped on her helmet, started her old Triumph, and rode into the night.
Streetlights slid over the curve of her black helmet like distant memories, and slowly; almost reluctantly; Vi began to feel like herself again. And yet, her head was full.
Caitlyn, Caitlyn, Caitlyn.
Like a heartbeat, not in her chest, but everywhere. In her hands. In her throat. In the hollow ache just below her ribs.
She couldn’t believe how profoundly stupid it was. And still—God, it felt so right.
If she stopped thinking, if she just let it be, it felt like she’d stumbled onto the one thing she’d been chasing all along, without even knowing it. Like reattaching a missing piece she never knew was gone. Now, all she had to do was bury it deep. Hide it like some sacred treasure no one could ever find. And keep moving.
And, of course; figure out how the hell she was supposed to see her again.
******
Reaching the South Side didn’t take long; not that Vi was really paying attention to the road anyway. It was late, and Powder and Ekko would surely be asleep by now. But Benzo wouldn’t be. He was a night owl. Sure enough, as she crossed the threshold of the small, worn-down house, a faint glow seeped from beneath the door to his study. She knocked softly and entered without waiting for a response.
The room was small. Four cramped walls, dominated by a large desk in the center, a coffee table and a worn-out chair nestled in one corner, and a tall, overflowing bookshelf in the opposite corner. Old jazz music whispered quietly in the background. Everything felt even smaller with the broad-shouldered man seated behind the desk, smoke swirling lazily from the joint between his thick fingers. He was busy counting money, barely glancing up when Vi took the seat opposite him.
“How’d it go?” Benzo asked in his characteristically gravelly voice.
“Uneventful,” Vi lied flatly.
She pulled the bundle of bills from her jacket, wrapped tight with a rubber band, and tossed it onto the desk. Benzo eyed it appreciatively, passing her the barely smoked joint. Vi accepted gratefully, taking a long drag. God, Benzo always had the best weed—perfect for calming her restless mind.
“Any words?” she asked again, caught in her own echo, like a damn broken record playing in an empty room.
“Nah. Loris is still on it. Between the two of us, we’ve got eyes and ears everywhere. We’ll hear something before he even makes a move.” Benzo spoke in that familiar, stony voice of his, quiet, but carved from concrete.
“I don’t like it. Not one bit. We’re missing something. I can feel it.” Vi was tense.
There had to be a reason Silco was waiting to make his move. It reeked of something worse. A bad omen, heavy and silent, like the stillness before a storm.
“Ain’t nothin’ more we can do right now, kiddo. We’re watchin’ him. We’re ready. Powder is, too. You can’t let that eat you alive. You’ve got enough on your plate already, don’t ya think?”
“And Sevika?”
“Jesus, kid. Am I gonna get the same damn questions every night?” He sighed, irritation creeping in. “We’re in this together. You know the drill.”
But she couldn’t help it. She was looping. Terrified. It could all go wrong in a second. One second was all it ever took.
“Alright, alright. Jeez. Guess all that cash isn’t putting you in a better mood, huh?” Vi raised her hands in mock surrender as he began counting the money she'd brought.
“Wish you didn’t have to do this shit, Vi, but damn... All this money’s filling the safe quick. Keep this up, both kids might even get to college.” Benzo cracked a satisfied, crooked smile.
“That’s exactly the point, old man.” Vi sighed wearily
“I’d rather think about that than about the fact he'd put a bullet in my head if he found out.” Benzo tried to sound casual, but Vi heard the sadness beneath.
“Vander did some shady things too.” Vi offered weakly
“He never made you do ‘em.”
“Benzo, we do what we gotta do, alright? That’s just how it is. It’s not like he’s around to see it anyway.” She paused, eyes narrowed at the smoke curling from the end of the joint. “Who the hell knows what he would’ve thought.”
She was tired now. Bone-tired. And the joint was almost gone anyway
“Come on, Vi, don’t bullshit yourself. We both know exactly what he'd think.” His voice softened, stern yet gentle.
“And yet, here we are.” She concluded sharply, standing abruptly. She extinguished the joint in the ashtray and left without another word.
Upstairs, she took a long, hot shower, finally collapsing onto her small bed with a heavy sigh. Her mind immediately drifted to Caitlyn; the conversation replayed again and again. Brief in reality, but endlessly detailed in memory. The graceful curve of her legs, the gentle swell of her chest, lips perfectly shaped, and those hauntingly blue eyes. Her silky voice echoed softly in Vi’s thoughts. For the first time, she wondered earnestly what Caitlyn might have thought of her; probably just another random girl at a frat party. Still, she hadn't seemed bothered by Vi's presence. That was something, at least.
She would see her again. That was just a fact now.
Even if it meant lurking from afar like a damn stalker; because let’s be honest, there was no way she had the balls to talk to her again. Would she even remember the weirdo who sat beside her for five minutes in a stinking hallway during some frat party? Vi wasn’t even a student there. She only had one reason to come back to campus. Well… now there were two.
Those rich idiots paid good money for weed, pills, coke…whatever made them feel interesting for five minutes. Sure, there were plenty of other places to sell. But most of those spoiled brats had no clue about market prices, so... Sometimes, she bumped it up a little. No harm, no foul.
She sold good shit. She didn’t have work the next day, but she’d have to restock; those fuckers had drained her dry. She’d go see Mylo in the afternoon. After that, maybe hang around one or two of her usual spots. The regular junkies always found her eventually. The key was knowing when it was time to move.
She always struggled to sleep. She hated the nightmares. The sweat. The thoughts twisting and crashing into each other in her already tired brain. But at least now, she had something to dream about. Yearning for a woman she’d barely met would probably count as pathetic; trivial, even, compared to the shitstorm they were all living through. But Vi couldn’t care less.
Her mind was hers. She could do whatever the fuck she wanted with it
******
At 5:24 am, Vi’s eyes abruptly snapped open. A nightmare, probably. But thankfully, she couldn’t remember it. Sleep wouldn’t return now; it rarely did. Resigned, she got up, dressed quickly, and headed straight to the kitchen downstairs. Cooking always comforted her, simple meals she knew she excelled at. Late-night cooking shows were her refuge on sleepless nights, providing a soothing distraction from darker thoughts. Benzo handled the grocery shopping, something for which she’d always be grateful. The two teenagers inevitably added their preferences; mostly sugary snacks high in calories; but thankfully, there was usually enough variety.
She brewed hot cocoa, hating the bitterness of coffee, and began preparing breakfast. At precisely 6:30, like every weekday morning, footsteps echoed in the hallway as Powder and Ekko woke and got ready for school. Soon enough, they joined her in the kitchen.
“Hey, sis! Damn, smells amazing!” Powder greeted her warmly, stepping into Vi’s waiting half-hug
“Gotta get some sugar in that twiggy frame,” Vi teased, poking her stomach
“How long’ve you been up?”
“Oh, not long. I always sleep like a rock,” Vi winked.
“Okay, shut up if all you’ve got is bullshit. Too early for that.” Powder rolled her eyes.
“Always a ray of sunshine.” Vi replied dryly, earning a chuckle from Ekko.
“And I don’t want to hear a sound from you either, schoolgirl.” The silence she demanded came easily. She didn’t say another word until they both finished their breakfast.
“So, what you up to today?” she asked Vi.
“No work today. Just some errands, then probably taking it easy.”
“Hmm. Right.” Powder mumbled suspiciously, eyes narrowing
Vi had managed to keep her activities hidden from them so far. But she knew her sister wasn’t stupid. She was, in fact, a literal genius. A traumatized one, sure; but that didn’t dull her perception. Which, for a sixteen-year-old, was damn impressive.
Vi only wanted to provide for her. Protect her.
Powder didn’t need to know the risks she took every day. She was all Vi had left. Her only purpose. There was nothing she wouldn’t do for her. Even if it meant lying. Mostly by omission, anyway.
Vi hated lying. To anyone. But when the truth cut too deep; when it had already carved her open; she genuinely believed hiding it was the only way to survive it. Powder didn’t push. Vi knew the day would come, eventually. But until then, she’d keep dodging it. Something she happened to be very good at.
When Powder left the kitchen, Ekko lingered. Vi seized the moment. Ekko was a computer prodigy. There was almost nothing he couldn't achieve online, whereas Vi barely knew how to open a browser. She’d asked for his help before, but never for something personal. Still, she trusted his discretion.
“Hey, Little man. I need a favor.”
“Sure. What’s up?” Ekko replied casually
“I just need you to find someone for me.” Vi's voice might have betrayed her tension because Ekko immediately eyed her warily.
“What’s the catch?” he asked cautiously
“I don’t have much to go on.” She attempted a casual tone.
“Shoot.”
“Just so we're clear—we’re talking seriously low-profile shit here. You feel me?”
“Yeah, I feel you. Now quit stalling and spit it out.”
“Her name’s Caitlyn. College student, History major, Philosophy minor. She’s about my age”
“What year?”
“No clue…”
“Fuck, that’s not much” Ekko sighed heavily
“Told ya.”
“Physical description?”
Something practical Vi, not “gorgeous”, “stunning” or “breathtaking”.
“Tall, lean build. Long dark blue hair. Cerulean eyes, sharp cheekbones.”
“Cerulean?” Ekko mocked gently, making a face
“Blue dude! Like a bright sky or the ocean, just… blue!” Vi’s frustration rose.
“Like Pow’s hair?”
“Do we really have to do this right now?” She hissed quietly, trying not to raise her voice.
“Okay okay, jeez. Since when do you talk like a fucking dictionary?” his brows furrowed, amused.
“Sorry pal. Think you can find something?” she asked more calmly
“You know I can. When’s it due?”
“No rush.”
“Alright. I’ll let you know when I find her.”
“Thanks, Ekko.”
“You got it,” he answered warmly, giving her a genuine smile she gratefully returned.
Powder’s head poked back into the doorway.
“What are you two plotting?”
“Nothing,” Vi and Ekko answered simultaneously. So much for subtlety
“Okay…Movie tonight, dickhead?” She turned toward Vi.
“I’ll be there, reluctantly as ever, asshole.” Vi smiled broadly, feeling genuinely lighter for the first time that morning.
******
After brushing her teeth and tossing her gear into her gym bag, she decided she needed to move.
The tension had been coiling up inside her for too long; it had to get out, one way or another.
And since she wasn’t in the mood to fuck some random girl into oblivion, a run and a punching bag would have to do.
It felt amazing. The burn. The sweat. The brutal rhythm of fists against leather. It made her feel powerful again. You didn’t get arms like that without commitment; at least three times a week, two hours minimum. Heart pounding, muscles aching, heavy weights lifted until failure. Anger released in waves, in sweat; hot, sticky, uncomfortable. But purifying. Then: a quick shower at the gym. And a drive home. Just enough time to grab a bite.
In the early afternoon, it was time to see Mylo and restock. But it wasn’t just about picking up narcotics.
The guy was one of her closest friends. He’d lived with her and Powder for a while, back when Vander was still around. Now, he was just like her; scraping by, playing the game, staying alive. Except he was alone. He worked at a pawn shop and kept a foot in the drug trade that ran through the south side; the same ghetto they’d grown up in. Whenever Vi dropped by, they always took time to sit, smoke, and catch up. It was routine. Familiar. Maybe the only part of her life that hadn’t completely changed.
Vi navigated the grimy district streets, past crumbling buildings and shadowed corners, arriving at Mylo’s familiar black door—paint peeling, vibrant graffiti covering its surface. She knocked, paused, knocked twice more, paused again, then finished with a single knock, signaling her arrival. Phones were too risky.
A click, and Mylo’s goofy face appeared. His brown hair stuck out chaotically, as always. He ushered her quickly inside, immediately enveloping her in an uncomfortably tight hug before stepping back.
“Hey man! How you been?” Vi greeted him warmly.
“Same as always, you greedy fool! Already out of supplies?” He sounded simultaneously incredulous and pleased.
“What can I say? Business is booming. You know how I roll,” She smirked proudly.
“Best damn dealer around,” Mylo acknowledged with a wink. “Sit down, I’ll roll us one.” He gestured toward his battered couch.
Settling onto the worn cushions, Vi watched him skillfully prepare a joint.
“So, what’s the word out there?” She asked casually.
“Nothin’ much lately. Shit’s been quiet. Apart from that blaze near the Fissures—ya know the one? The warehouse? But that was, what... two months ago now? Since then, not even a sneeze.”
“Dunno about you, but I’m feelin’ kinda sick over here.” Vi muttered it, half a joke, half dead serious. She wouldn’t have said it to anyone else. But Mylo? He got it.
“Yeah, I feel ya. Motherfucker Supreme’s been way too quiet lately. Keep it up, and some other crook’s gonna try his luck; make a move, take the reins. And that? That’d be bad.”
So yeah. Her friend shared her worries. Which, frankly, made it even worse
“It’s like… the bastard’s crawled into some hole, plotting shit with his goons. And… we both know what he wants. So I don’t know if I’m just being paranoid or… Fuck, I don’t know. But then again, what could I even do? We prepped as much as we could.” She let out a sigh. Heavy
“Powder knows?”
“Hell no. She’s not scared of him”
“That little dumbass! She should be.” Mylo muttered, taking a long drag and exhaling slowly toward the ceiling.
“Don’t you think I know that?” Vi shot back soflty.
“How’s she doing otherwise?”
“Great, actually. Grades are solid, therapy’s consistent, she’s stable. Fuck, Mylo, what if he…”
“Listen to me. He might have the cops in his pocket and a bunch of ass-licking pups sniffin’ around him,
but if that one-eyed prick ever comes near one of you; you won’t be alone. There are still people loyal to you. And he fucking knows it. Just stay the fuck off his turf. You hear me?”
“My eyes are always open, man. And I got more than just one pair.” She didn’t even know who she was trying to convince, him, or herself. She lit up, and already the smoke was helping. A little.
“Yeah, but… come on. We know the guy by now. He’s smart as hell. And patient. Powder’s still young. Could be years before he makes a move. He’s in no rush.”
“What’s your point, wanker?”
“Live a little.”
He shrugged. Simple as that.
******
Life had a strange sense of humor. Ever since Ekko provided Vi with those precious details a few days ago, she’d been trapped in a surreal haze.
Her full name was Caitlyn Kiramman, twenty-one years old. She had a social media profile but never posted anything herself, leaving only a few pictures tagged by friends—each one effortlessly stunning, each one driving Vi further into her quiet obsession. Caitlyn had spoken at a university conference, allowing Vi the guilty pleasure of hearing her voice again. She felt like a creepy stalker, but there was no fighting it.
She needed to breathe to stay alive, right?
Well; she needed to know that girl too.
Same thing.
Same goddamn thing.
But here’s the best fucking part.
Her mother, Cassandra, was President of the Congress.
And her father, Tobias, just happened to be one of the top neurosurgeons in the goddamn world.
Yeah. Definitely not much.
The Kirammans were only one of the wealthiest families on the entire damn continent.
Which meant that, in her right mind, Violet Lane, twenty years old, mechanic in a shitty garage by day, drug dealer by night, with no parents and not a cent to her name, would’ve given up in a heartbeat. No hesitation. She’d have grabbed a shovel, dug herself a hole deep as the Mariana Trench, buried her goddamn delusions in it, and moved on with her life in the South Side, where dreams didn’t come true.
So no, she clearly wasn’t in her right mind. Because this? This wasn’t the plan at all. She wished it was. She really did. That had to be it, then. She was losing it. For real.
Because right now, she was at some university outdoor event in a park near campus. She’d rushed there straight after work. Why? Because she knew there was a chance she might be there.
It was 6PM on a Friday. The sun was still high. There were food stands, music, and a few early drinkers already nursing their first beer.
She carried only a small stash. Her real motive tonight had nothing to do with business. She stood off to the side, under a small tree, hands shoved deep into her jacket pockets, and watched. Snippets of cheerful conversations drifted toward her. Summer was nearing its end, but the city stayed warm well into the fall. She kept her hood up, always aiming to blend in, to stay out of sight. Half an hour passed.
Then she saw her.
Her long hair was loose tonight, cascading like a dark waterfall over one shoulder. She looked so goddamn elegant, Vi had to fight the urge to bolt. She was even more beautiful in daylight. Of course she was. She stood with her friend from last time, Mel, and some tall, broad guy with brown hair Vi vaguely recognized from the fraternity. She was the only one in the group without a drink, but her serene smile made her eyes glow. She hadn’t seen Vi yet. She was still far enough.
And that, somehow, brought Vi a pathetic wave of relief.
But at the same time, she was dying to speak to her again. Say what, though? What could she possibly say? She couldn’t let this woman get to know her too well. And she had no hope; none; of ever having more than this. So she just stood there, filling her starving soul with the sight of her. It was pathetic. But what else could she do? She’d hit a wall. An impasse. She should go. Before she got caught staring.
She was still locked in that quiet ache when a sudden tap on her shoulder pulled her violently back into the world. Startled, she spun around, facing a nervous, skinny blond guy.
“Hey,” he said softly
“Hi.”
“I, uh… I heard you could… provide stuff?” The poor guy was clearly uneasy. Vi didn’t recognize him.
Which meant someone had pointed him her way.
“What d’you need?”
“Weed. Couple of Mollys, if you got ‘em”
She handed him his request discreetly, quickly exchanging the goods for cash before he disappeared back into the crowd.
When Vi turned back, Caitlyn had vanished from view, leaving a pang of bittersweet relief. This was probably for the best. With resigned resolve, Vi strode decisively toward the nearest stoplight, ready to cross the street and leave.
As she waited for the green light, she felt a light tug on her right forearm. She turned.
And the moment her eyes landed on the person behind her, she thought she might pass out.
“Caitlyn?”