ɢ ʀ ʏ ꜰ ꜰ ᴏ ɴ

“I want to cover a Pansy Division song.” Danny looks over at you from his side of the room. Since you’re getting paid so much more and working so many more hours now, you’ve been able to save up for a mattress pretty quickly. It’s just a single, but it’s way better than the floor. You also insisted on helping Danny get one so he doesn’t screw up his back, especially since he’s on his feet all day at work. He pauses and says, “Are you sure?” You don’t look over at him. Instead, you’re updating The Black & Blues myspace blog to let everyone following know you’ll have new music up soon, and that merch is incoming. You still don’t have desks, but you found some cheap TV trays you can put the monitors on. Then you open myspace, to see if you have any new messages. It’s all grifters who insist they can make your band the next big thing, but you know better. Talent and marketing matter, yeah. But it’s mostly luck and being in the right place at the right time. “Yeah.” Your eyes don’t leave your computer screen. Danny stands to peer over your shoulder. “What’re you doing over here?” You’re in your myspace page preferences. You’ve clicked on the ‘Interested In’ drop down menu, and your cursor hovers over ‘men,’ but you don’t click on it. Not yet. Danny sits down beside you and says, “Hey, you don’t owe anyone anything, okay? If you’re not ready–” “No,” you say firmly. “I think I finally am.” And you click, and you save your preferences, and when it loads your home screen again, there it is on the bottom of the page. ‘Interested in: Men. Relationship status: In a Relationship.”

“I go wherever my father goes for international affairs. It’s quite interesting, actually. I sit in with the kings and queens of our vast countries, and I get to see my friends from other noble houses. Never across the sea though. We only travel through landlocked territories, especially since the Wave Raiser has been aggravated lately…”

“If I had a reason, I wouldn’t have left – I’d still be in bed, thinking about why I wasn’t doing what I wanted. One foot after the other, I guess…”

“Couldn’t if I wanted to. Mum really likes it in Kingston Alley, so I don’t think we’ll be leaving anytime soon. I was born and raised here, but I wanna see the world, y'know?”

“Home is wherever we dwell. In the folds of us, all are welcome, and none are lost. Happiness lies in the home. Our home. Why don’t you free yourself from mortal pain and join us?”

“Well, I’m the king of Miyokav by birthright, so that is my ideal job. What else would there be for me?”

“What… a job? Is that something I’m supposed to have? Ah, I don’t know what that is. Do other people have jobs?”

“Journalist! At a big, flashy newstation, where I get all the good stories. But if I had to be less picky, anywhere I’d get all the information. And attention, too, equally important. Anything but a lawyer.”

“Protecting the fragile human soul as it shuffles through the listless endeavour of life.”

“Simply put, free. No more renewals, no more temples, no more fear. Every nation has lost centuries of safety to forces outside of our control, but no longer. It’s what everybody needs, and honestly? I can do it.”

“Oh, a goal… yeah, okay. I’d need a goal before I can think about what would happen when it succeeds – if it ever does. I can get one of those – staying awake, maybe? I feel awake, but nobody seems to agree. As for what’d happen when I really ‘wake up,’ I don’t know…”

“A whole lot better, that’s for sure! I’ll be a hero! And nobody will give me weird looks anymore! I won’t have to rely on anyone – I’ll be in charge of myself!”

“Better than it ever has been since life severed itself from us. Human love is fickle and rife with misery, and when we welcome all back into our wholeness, there will be none of that needless pain. For it is only humanity that gives what hurts them such a sweet name. ‘Love.’”

1. who are you closest to? how do you feel about them?

It isn’t until you get on the expressway that Frankie asks, “What do you guys want to listen to?” “Um.” You pause, unsure. She asked, but does she actually want you to answer, or just Josselin? Josselin looks over his shoulder and back at you as best he can. “Meara?” They are asking you. “Something upbeat?” It comes out an awkward question. Frankie grins at your reflection in the rearview mirror. “How about some good ol’ fashioned ska?” Your shoulders perk and your face brightens. “I’d love that!” You haven’t listened to it much since high school, but it used to be one of your favorite genres. There were a lot of things you used to do, you used to like, you used to be. Maybe now, without Drake around telling you what you can and can’t do, you can rediscover some of them again. She attaches her phone via bluetooth and soon the music starts blaring through the car. Josselin flinches and tugs at his ponytail a little, and Frankie turns it down immediately. “Shit, sorry. I was listening to KMFDM and you know how I like I loud.” Josselin’s shoulders relax when the music goes down to background volume. He stops pulling, but he still runs his fingers through the hair hanging over his shoulder. She takes one hand off the wheel to squeeze his knee, just for a moment, before moving back to her original position.

You try to curl into the smallest ball you can manage, to cover yourself, but you can’t move and your clothes are gone and there are legs skittering over your skin and your neck is burning and it’s so hot and you thrash in your sheets and when you open your eyes your hands are scrabbling at your face and something is around your wrists and— “Meara!” You know that voice, it’s— “Meara, stop! You’re hurting yourself! Meara, please—“ It takes a second to place yourself when you open your eyes. Your skin burns a little, like the spiders have started biting, but there are no spiders, there’s just the dim room and tangled sheets and Josselin next to you, gently pulling your hands away from your face. “Meara.” His voice sounds so scared and broken. You clear your throat. Blink a few times. “What happened?” Clear your throat again. “I. Um. Just a bad dream.” You can’t hide the shaking in your voice. “It’s dumb, it’s—“ “It’s not dumb,” Josselin interrupts. “You were trying to rip your skin off.”