CHAPTER ONE: It's Not Easy,
From the moment their eyes met in her freshman year of high school, Yang Xiao Long knew that she was going to hate Mercury Black. She just knew – as he perched his feet up against his desk and tilted his chair until it bashed against the one behind him, as he mindlessly doodled in the margins of his notes, as he scoffed at anything the teacher said— she just knew that she would hate him. He hated her too, of course. Or maybe he just played into her enthusiasm. Mercury was always one to toy with other people, and everyone knew it.
Yang liked to think, in the back of her mind, that it was a destined sort of rivalry. That by the end of year they would have a showdown. A showdown that would outlast all memories of heated banter, or fisticuffs, or even that one time they each actually studied and did work to compete through grades (the teachers still look back on those days fondly, and consistently pat Professor Watts on the back for manipulating their rivalry into a positive school work ethic. Or whatever.)
So she hated him. And he hated her. It was perfect, black and white. Simple.
This, though, wasn't simple. Because here she was, drenched and huddled on a random city bench, crying her eyes out and the only person who stopped to care was Mercury fucking Black.
Yang was always impulsive. She'd buy what she wanted, fight who she hated, and protect who she loved. So she ran when she couldn't fight and immediately found herself drowning in the thunderstorm outside. And she kept running, slipping and thinking until she just couldn't anymore.
She should've chosen a dryer night to get into an argument with her dad. Maybe then she wouldn't be sobbing about little nothings; like losing her tears to the pounding rain, or about how fucking cold it was. It was funny; her long, thick hair usually stuck to her neck with sweat and sizzled as the sun heated it. Now it weighed about 10 pounds more, and instead stuck to her skin with the ice cold rainwater.
Warm clothes didn't really help if they were soaked, and her fiery personality sadly wasn't enough to melt the ice that had formed around her lungs and the soles of her feet. So she sat down and curled up as far as she could, on the right side of a city bench.
She was right next to an old lamppost that didn't even work anymore- one of the ones that half-baked teenagers would lean against for a smoke, since there was nowhere else to go when you smoked for the sake of looking cool. Anywhere else and it would look pitiful.
The lamppost wasn't doing those wonders for Yang though.
It was late, and a Tuesday, (which she had previously deemed the most uneventful day of the week) so nobody was out. Everything that passed by was either an empty taxi or a bird. And based on the weather, it was really stupid bird. Even if someone on the roads at this hour were a good Samaritan, they couldn't possibly make Yang out in the wall of darkness and raindrops, cowering on some bench. If they did, they'd assume she was some homeless burnout or an unwanted rug left for dead.
And yet despite all of this, he was there, curiously gazing at her through an open window of a sleek silver sports car. His eyes, usually consumed with some sort of condemnation towards the world they were forced to look at, were now open and though not welcoming— they were intrigued. Yang didn't know why Mercury was there, or how he saw her, but her first instinct was to wipe her tears and glare. Glare as if he hadn't just seen her so completely and utterly broken.
And he just tilted his head, motioning to the passenger seat and tapping the side of the car as his arm hung loosely out the window.
It hurt to perk up, to straighten her hunched form and look menacing. The rain felt like needles on her skin, stabbing with a force gifted to it by the thick wind. And she was just so tired. So she obliged.
Yang picked herself up with whatever remaining dignity she still had, somehow managing to lift her upper body before her legs could catch up, and ended up stumbling over a patch of weeds growing up through the cracks of the sidewalk. Her eyes narrow as Mercury whistles impatiently, tapping louder onto the metal of the car, fingernails creating sharper sounds every once in awhile. He seemed so casual and innocent right there, even though he was most definitely a sociopath.
She recalled their 10th grade psychology class, where he publicly humiliated the teacher, "psychoanalyzing" her obvious neat freak nature, somehow linking it to a less-than-dignified sexual history. Mrs. Peach was left in tears, pinker than her namesake, and Mercury just smirked. He just smirked, and tapped his fingers against his desk smugly as Yang watched in horror. In absolute mortification of his apathy. She decided then that he had no care for other people's emotions, and would either end up as one of those scientists doing human experimentation for the sake of knowledge (because he was smart) or as a serial killer. Or both.
Yang replayed this memory as she walked up to the car, attempting to engage in a staring contest with the silver haired menace— even though his gaze averted to his rearview mirror, which caught the headlights of another car behind them. Sighing, he meets her fiery gaze again and quirks an eyebrow questioningly, "I know you're going through some shit or whatever, but I don't have all day." He pauses for a millisecond, looking down in thought before snapping back and cutting off Yang's prepared retort. "Or night. Whatever. Just get in."
He flicked the master lock of the car doors on and off multiple times as Yang went through the long and painful process of rolling her eyes and walking around the front of the car to the other side. She winced when she passed in front of the bright and bluish strobe lights, blinking rapidly to regain her sight after momentary blindness. As she wrapped her hand around the door handle, Yang met Mercury's gaze from across the car, noticing a more characteristic playfulness that wasn't there previously. She wasn't sure what exactly prompted this change in his equanimity, but it became apparent when she attempted to yank the door open, only to find it locked in place.
"Really funny," she spat, regaining her balance from the unexpected whiplash of trying your hardest to open a locked door.
"I know," he grinned passively before actually unlocking the door. He exaggerated the gesture, hyper extending his index finger before wrapping it tightly around the switch and slowly flicking it backwards. He was mocking her and she hated it. But in the end she was still not sure whether it was worse than her previous tears-fest on the bench, so she got into the car anyways, slamming the door for good measure.
The interior of the car was sleek, black, and so very Mercury. To be honest, she expected something less expensive from the guy who smoked cigarettes instead of eating lunch and wore practically the same frayed jacket every single day— but he was always full of surprises.
He drummed on the steering wheel as she buckled her seatbelt, before turning to her and sighing. "So, where to?"
She cocked her head, "you aren't taking me straight home?" She had expected a quiet transaction that only enemies could have.
"Well," he inhaled on his first word, exhaling on the follow up statement. It was something he did often when questioning someone sarcastically. "I'd need your address for that, yeah? Also…" He trailed off, which angered Yang, as her fuse was already lit from all the bullshit she just had to deal with at home.
"Also what?" And despite her voice heightening under the guise of a question mark, the retort was most definitely a demand.
"Do you really want to go home right now?" He prodded, extending 'really' out with the addition of about twenty 'e's.
And her lack of a reply was enough of an answer for him. She sighed shakily throughout the silence, only making noise in her head as sloppy breaths echoed around her skull.
"So, now that that's out of the way," he closed the window, cutting off the drowning drone of raindrops on pavement. The only sounds left were the engine's purr, the unending exhale of air conditioning, the lowest setting on the radio, and Mercury's next words. "Where to?"
Yang was, for lack of a better term, taken aback by him. Not by how sarcastic and blunt he was, or by the tinny sounds of Nirvana being played at minimum volume through the speakers. But rather, by how he seemed almost genuine. His face betrayed no ulterior motives, which usually tended to plaster themselves there in bold.
"I…" She wasn't sure whether to answer honestly or not. Whether to give him something that Yang would normally say, or something that she actually needed to say. After moments of debate, she decides, hesitantly, on the latter.
"Anywhere. Anywhere but here or… Or there." She cringed into herself and squeezed her eyes closed as she thought of home.
"Anywhere sounds nice," he stated, looking spacily out the window, pupils barely distinguishable from the rest of his dark irises as they dilated.
That's when it was actually silent. She tuned out any background noise and just stared at him. His voice was as calm and apathetic; as expected of a sociopath (she had to remind herself of how generally awful he was on a regular basis as to not let her guard down around the enemy). But there was something there, something in the way shadows poured over his cheekbones and caressed each pale freckle that emitted a feeling of hopelessness that mirrored her own.
He sits there like that for what seems like a nanosecond before he's tearing through the streets, splitting the oceans flooding them and knocking his head against the seat, welcoming the force of his speed.
Yang wasn't prepared for the sudden momentum, and ended up clinging to the armrests in shock and self-preservation. She quickly let go when she noticed Mercury's triumphant smirk, narrowing her eyes at his satisfaction.
They were like that for awhile- and the raindrops that would've splattered against the windshield at an ordinary speed rolled into the chase, barely even leaving a trail behind. The engine silenced at the high speed, working faster than sound could handle– and any vibrations emitted from it were undetectable at that point. Mercury had increased the volume of his music, and bobbed his head along to the cacophony every time the chorus or riff played.
Eventually they had escaped the confines of the city, and the streetlights stopped appearing in their wake. They both relaxed when they got onto the highway, as if they ripped off the shackles tying them to dimly lit alleyways and wet street-side benches. Despite their "getaway", an uneasiness still blanketed the rivals, and Yang was desperate to kick it off.
She looked at him, and he didn't seem to care about her icy stare, or notice it, since he just kept tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. Yang coughed, in that purposeful way that was really only there to call attention to something. To her.
"What?" Mercury sighed, rolling his eyes to meet hers.
"Aren't you going to ask?" She elaborated after she was met with a raised eyebrow and an increase of speed. He was more impatient than she was, seriously. "Why I was there? Why I don't want to go home?"
"Do you want me to ask?" She answered him with silence and he exhaled before knocking his head on the seat behind him. "I already have an idea of what happened, you're easy to read. I don't really need to ask if I'm not curious."
His apathy angered Yang further, and she seriously had no clue how his parents could possibly put up with him. "Really. You have me all figured out? Try me."
His left eyelid twitched a bit at the offered challenge, and he licked his lips before smirking. "Okay, I won't really have to try though."
"Ha ha. You're so funny."
"I know," he gave her a cheeky wink before sucking in enough air to puff out his torso, which took a lot of effort since he was so lanky. "Okay, so obviously you had a fight with your guardian— since you were the one running, you aren't in control, so it couldn't be a friend or your sister…" he looked to the upper left hemisphere of his periphery before continuing "I assume it was an ordinary argument, something small, or at least not world ending, yeah?" he didn't wait for her response to his confirming question, since he didn't even take a breath as he kept going.
"Someone mentioned a sore subject or a secret or whatever, and you bolted the fuck outta there. Did I get it right?"
Yang sunk into her seat, curling her spine into the crack between the perpendicular pieces of chair.
"I guess I did."
The blonde's lips pulled into a pout. She should have known he'd hit the nail on the head, and then twist said nail into her gut through his condescending and uncaring correctness. He was always right, and even though her eyes were red rimmed, and her hair was soaked, he continued fidgeting and acting as if he was driving her home from school.
He noticed her visible unrest and rolled his eyes, "you shouldn't have asked, if you didn't want me to tell."
"Yeah?" She snapped, jerking her spine straight. Her hair's wetness splattered across the dashboard with the speed. "What are you doing out here, driving around at ass o' clock in the pouring rain? Did your fuck of the night kick you out? I wouldn't be surprised, you're a major dick. Probably compensating for something, yeah?"
Her words exited her mouth with a ferocity and rapidity that harmonized with the bullet-like rain hammering against the car. For the first time in— for the first time ever, Mercury exhibited an emotion outside of boredom or humor. Anger. He looked furious; jaw tightening, eyes narrowing, fists clenching. It was a subtle sort of anger that bubbled under the surface of a cool expression— and it almost scared Yang.
"You really don't know me at all, blondie." He spat, upper lip curling as he recomposed himself. "You think that every single person that doesn't treat you like daddy's little angel, or like the fucking Eye of the Tiger is automatically plotting your demise. Just cause I didn't talk to you on that first day of school doesn't make me Hitler. Don't get pissy when I look at that heart you wear on your sleeve, just because I keep mine under lock and fucking futuristic eye-scan."
They didn't talk again after that, and Mercury drove even faster than before— not paying Yang any notice as he cleared his messy head. Yang looked at him though, shellshocked by his… his entire personality that night really.
Because she couldn't remember a Mercury who'd stop a joyride for a crying chick on the road (especially one who he knew wouldn't have sex with him), who'd be considerate of someone's situation (to an extent). She couldn't even imagine one who'd get visibly angry. He got annoyed, but never triggered.
There was one time though. Freshman year, and around the time where the whole social hierarchy of their class was being sorted out. Cardin Winchester, douche-canoe and resident bully, was pestering Mercury and his friends about joining the "top of the food chain" with him and his buddies.
"Yeah, um sorry we're not very hungry."
"Excuse me?" He had these big red eyebrows that looked like obese caterpillars, and a face so pudgy that he couldn't even furrow them all the way. The corners of his outstretched spit factory of a mouth seemed to have remnants of breakfast (too rotten to be from lunch.)
"You asked if we wanted to be on the top of the food chain?" She stated it like it was obvious. And Emerald was known for that kind of thing— sounding like a moody teenager at all hours, but it worked for her.
"Yeah," Cardin nodded, smirking. His smirk sent layers of skin up the right side of his asymmetrical jaw, like an accordion. The words leaving his mouth were accompanied by a warm stench of a boy's locker room after one too many fuckwads masturbated in the showers. "You'll be all popular and shit, get to push losers around. I can pay you out of trouble too."
He didn't mention that them "joining" his ranks would benefit him more than anything. Though he had all the money in the world, a few gophers that'd do anything for him, and a love of fucking people over— he was far from the toughest in the school.
Cinder Fall, for example, was rumored to have literally castrated a guy after he cheated on her. She played with a lighter unconsciously, and probably had blackmail on everyone in the city. And Emerald Sustrai, despite her temper, knew her way around a knife. And everyone knew Mercury could fight— he showed up to school; knuckles bruised and a new shiner every day. Not to mention that he could outwit anyone. Ever.
Cardin couldn't beat them if they decided to challenge his position, and no one could challenge him if he were aligned with them. Plus he'd have two of the hottest chicks in the school on either side of his bulky form.
"We don't need you for that, peaches." Cinder's voice was like molten chocolate, as if comforting the bully. He twitched at the nickname in disgust— not taking kindly to being treated like a… a girl. Because of course he was a misogynist.
"Not to mention, your idea of fun is kind of tame— total offense by the way." Mercury spoke up with his drawl and constantly moving fingers. "Like we get that you're bigger than a girl who's been in a hospital her whole life, you don't need to push her into a locker. It's kind of lame, yeah?"
He was referring to Penny, who'd just managed to attend normal school after her last round of chemotherapy. She was small and freckled, with a crooked smile that could warm all hearts. Knowing she was sickly, Cardin and his goons still harassed her constantly.
"Like that doesn't prove you're tough, it just proves you're a massive dickhead who's too much of a quivering pussy to actually get into 'trouble'." Cardin fumed as Mercury surrounded his words with air quotes.
He rose to his own defense, as a self-righteous asshole is required to do. "Yeah it's tame," he scoffed. "But it's just a warm-up! I'm not sure if you've heard but, I can do real damage too."
He leaned in closer to the trio, who were already over this massive dumpster-fire of a person. Cardin whispering meant that phlegm would inevitably push its way out through his throat as he choked out more bullshit. Emerald visibly recoiled, Cinder moved her lunch tray about three feet away, and Mercury took a deep breath— like talking himself down out of a mental breakdown. This guy was just so disgusting.
"You heard about what happened to May? Zedong? The emo-ass Asian bitch?" He moved his gaze around as he talked, as if recounting an epic story over a campfire. Every other word was a question, prompting a response that they never gave. And yeah, they knew about May. Everyone did. The night before her big soccer championship game, some guy thought it necessary to plow her into a metal pole with his car, and run off. Both of her legs were broken, and even though they'd heal, there was no way she'd get that scholarship she was aiming towards.
"Well that was me."
And maybe Cardin Winchester expected some sort of pat on the back, for being evil or whatever. But instead, the trio just looked away.
"Yeah, like Merc said: Massive. Dickhead." Emerald spat, her voice sharp and pissed.
"Well! You said you wanted a real feat of strength— that's far from tame!" He tilted his head up, like his monstrous eyebrows would suddenly go through metamorphosis and fly away like beautiful butterflies in a poetic escape to freedom. "I practically crippled her! She thought it was okay to reject me," he motioned to his face as if it weren't the worst thing ever "and now she'll regret it for the rest of her life! Good riddance!"
Yang, who was observing the whole exchange from a table away, felt her heartrate skyrocket as she prepared to absolutely wreck this jerk. She clenched her fists and began to rise out of her seat, not expecting Mercury to speak up. His voice was, well, pretty aggressive, and his face was pretty pissed. She paused as he spoke.
"You really think that we'll worship you for being an ass?" He starts, his hands no longer toying with the ends of his sleeves, or tapping out rhythms on the table. "For being too much of a cum stained fuck-waffle to back off from a girl who, by the way, has enough common sense not to date the human embodiment of every rape-y wet-dream that jacked up frat boys brag about? For laughing about crippling someone for no good reason other than to distract people from the sad lump of actual dogshit that you are?" He breathes in, and both Emerald and Cinder look at him with a sort of… concern?
But he wasn't done with his tirade. He couldn't be.
"To be completely honest, I'm offended that you think we'd give you a standing ovation! That we'd practically let you fuck us with that hard-on you have for being so ungodly abhorrent. Even though you'd totally be a bottom. You think that, because I can break your twigs-for-legs over your own empty ass skull, I'd get off on it? Well you'd be right on that last one. Ignore that." He stopped, to catch his breath that he'd used to let out that stream of savage.
"So what we're saying is, if you value your microscopic dick," Cinder hummed, looking at her freshly painted nails as if Cardin wasn't worth her time of day. He wasn't. "Get the fuck out, peaches…" Her hand spiraled into a gesture towards the door— which he promptly waddled to as fast as possible, wondering what he could've done wrong.
Yang hated Mercury, but she pumped her fist in the air anyway and gave him a cheer. Which he ignored. She died down in her enthusiasm, wondering why the fuck he looked so goddamn angry. It wasn't like Cardin hadn't done shit like that before—hell, the day prior he had trashed Mercury's locker and the jacket inside (which was his literal baby) and Mercury let him off with a kick to his "nonexistent dick". But Cardin brags about one thing he may have done to a person Mercury never met, and he's about to rip his head open with his bare hands like a coconut.
And that was the only time he'd been angry. They were in their senior year and yet she'd seen him truly angry once. And now, she guessed, twice.
A/N: Hey I'm alive! A lot of people liked Nighthawks so here's something in a similar vein. Enjoy!