Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games, or the lyrics used in the story.
"Looking at it now, last December
we were built to fall apart, then fall back together
Your necklace hanging from my neck, the night we couldn't quite forget
When we decided to push the furniture so we could dance
Baby, like we stood a chance, two paper airplanes flying, flying, flying
And I remember thinking
Are we out of the woods yet?"
Charles skidded to a stop, puffing and panting, running the back of his hand over his brow to wipe the beads of sweat forming above it.
"I can't believe this fucking happened!" Jax snarled angrily, a painful red burn across his forearm glinting with sweat. He proceeded to utter streams of curses, pointing and shouting at the sky, and Charles was certain that the Gamemakers would decide to edit out whatever scene Jax was causing.
He'd never seen a lower District so hot-tempered and angry, and Charles was very irritated that Jax was part of the Career pack in the first place. Still, there was no denying Jax's skill at hunting, so Charles tried his best to tolerate him.
Ruby came in close behind Charles, ramming into his back and losing her balance, falling on her bottom, the last of her weapons clattering down on the rocky plain they now called camp. She was breathing heavily, running a dust hand through her blonde locks, the pink tips her Capitol stylists gave her already burned off and barely noticeable.
Charles bent down to pick up her weapons; normally Ruby would have resisted, but she was too tired from running and was trying to catch her breath.
"Did we salvage anything?" Charles called out over Jax's swearing. Two more of the Career tributes climbed up on their small edge of rock that protruded from the rest of the jagged mountain, and Ruby got up to hold her hand out and help the others. "Can we do a headcount to see how many we lost?"
"We lost half our number, Charlie," Ruby snapped, her blue eyes glaring dangerously at him. "There's no point doing a stupid headcount, since it's obvious to see how many died after that stupid volcano eruption."
"I am just saying," Charles said evenly, looking irritably at her, before turning to the rest. "What were you able to get a hold of?"
A small, nimble girl with brown hair said in an exhausted tone, "I got my trident, and this backpack I clearly remember was all our first aid supplies. Cleo got most of the food."
"And almost got cooked in the process," Cleo said harshly, throwing the pack at Charles' feet. "There. I don't know what I got since I was stuffing what I could before my boot got singed."
Charles didn't say anything anymore, and just picked up the packs and the weapons, stocking them in piles and taking inventory of what was left. The three girls were not talking, Ruby's eyes trained on Charles' moving figure, and even Jax finally quieted down after a while, joining the girls on the ground.
Several cannons echoed in the distance, and after the last one, silence.
"Twelve," Cleo said, breaking the weary tension. She was picking at the dirt under her nails, and she looked at Charles, who meanwhile was still standing, his arms crossed.
It was a beautiful sight to watch, the golden, molten lava flowing down the side of what they thought was an ice capped mountain. It was clearly sunset, and the whole world seemed to glow orange and pink, the color of the sky contrasting with the color of the lava, and they knew that the dead tributes would be flashed in the sky in a mere few hours.
Despite such a hopeful, majestic scene spread out before him, Charles couldn't bring himself to appreciate it. In just a snap, the camp they considered safe had been compromised, most of their food resources gone, and even some of their more powerful companions too. Twelve dead, almost half that number his Career mates, strong, harsh, brutish people whose heavy feet were too slow to keep up...
"We'll see who else has died come nightfall," Cleo said in a quiet voice, even though no one was bothering to answer and it seemed as though no one was listening.
The five Careers sat in silence, watching as the grassy meadow below them burned and caught fire, just like the tributes that probably died along with it. They sat, not speaking, even Ruby and Cleo, who normally kept chattering so much it was annoying. Charles didn't say anything, even as Ruby clung onto his arm and rested her head on his shoulder. The sun sank behind the woods that remained untouched by the scorching molten rock, and as the artificial, Capitol-generated stars began to twinkle in the sky, the anthem finally began to play.
The first person to appear in the sky was Ruby's male District partner, Ace, followed by the other District 1 female, Rayla; next was Charles and Cleo's male District partner, Wilcox. Next was the last District 3 male, then their fellow District 4 Career Florence, both of the remaining District 6 tributes, the last District 9 male, both District 10 females, and the two females from District 11 and 12. The small, frail looking District 12 girl was still etched into the back of their eyelids even as the light disappeared, and Cleo sighed.
"Wow," Jax suddenly spoke up, his voice mocking and his words coming out like a snappy grunt. "I can't believe it. Maysilee and Haymitch are still alive."
"Are they your District partners?" the brown-haired girl asked him in a soft, questioning voice, examining the ends of Ruby's hair and picking away at the singed ones.
Jax grunted again in assent. "I thought Maysilee would die the first day," he said indifferently. "And I would have wanted Haymitch dead the same way."
"I understand that they're fellow tributes and they need to die," Cleo cocked an eyebrow at him, "but I don't understand where your anger stems from."
Jax gave her a knowing smirk, his eyes sparkling darkly in the evening light. "That's between me and them. There's nothing you need to know about."
"Jeez, what a schmuck you are," the brown-haired girl teased, placing her hands on her hips and tossing her hair behind her shoulder.
"Shut up, Nori," Jax bit back, his hands clenching into fists, but everyone knew Jax had no intention of laying even a finger on the slight, breezy girl. No matter how tough and brusque Jax was, he was still very dependent on the others when it came to killing, and had zero deaths to his name. His only appeal was his strength and power, and that's what kept him alive despite Charles' dislike.
"Who's going to keep first watch?" Cleo said, interrupting the banter between the two, not bothering to hide her yawn. She got up, dusting the back of her pants, making her way towards a pack, pulling out a thin sheet of insulated fabric. "I've had enough drama for one day, so I'm going to hit the hay."
"I'll do it," Charles answered, his jaw tightening as he looked over his back at Cleo. He did not leave his post at the edge of the turf, his back still turned to the rest of his companions, his whole body still tense from the action, like he was about to break off into a run at any given second. No amount of soothing on Ruby's part calmed Charles down; in fact, it made him more agitated. "It's not like I can get any sleep anyway."
"You're such a wuss," Jax said snarkily, getting up to slap Charles against the shoulder, ignoring Ruby's glare. He dropped down near the supplies, crossing his arms and resting his back against a large rock protrusion, hiding Cleo's figure from sight as she curled up into a ball in between Jax and their remaining resources. "Whenever someone gets killed, you put on this stupid mask of mercy, like you're going to spend the whole evening praying for their souls. I wouldn't be surprised if you did."
"There is nothing wrong with showing a little bit of humanity," Charles bit back, propping up his legs and resting his arms on his knees. "At least I make it a good show, not like you. You're all bark and no bite."
Jax glared at Charles murderously, like he was going to jump at him and strangle him, but instead Jax muttered, "Come on, Nori."
Nori's hands were folded together patiently, but when Jax addressed her, her bright green eyes narrowed and she regarded him with a frown. "For someone from District Twelve, you sure have a lot of anger issues."
"Don't typecast me into what the rest of my District is," Jax cocked an eyebrow, closing his eyes only when Nori stood up and pulled one of the backpacks to use as a pillow, positioning herself at Cleo and Jax's feet.
"You should sleep too," Charles said in a softer, gentler tone to Ruby, who was still sitting with him, her eyes running over his profile as he looked out at the darkness before them.
"And leave you all alone on the watch?" Ruby said, keeping her voice quiet, her eyes casting down to the ground and her cheeks turning pink. Her slim, nimble fingers closed around his wrist comfortingly. "I'll stay up with you."
"I don't want you to," Charles said, pulling his wrist out of her grasp, his hand shooting up to hold the small golden ball on a long chain around his neck. He rubbed it absentmindedly, staring into the distance, but Ruby looked at the pendant with apprehension in her eyes. Charles sighed, finally looking at Ruby, and Ruby averted her gaze from the pendant to his warm, chocolate brown eyes. "Go to sleep with the rest of them."
Ruby bit down on her lower lip hesitantly, before finally, she reached up to press a kiss on his hard, unrelenting mouth, and when she sensed the hostility coming from him after that gesture, she stood up to join the other sleeping Careers, leaving Charles alone.
Charles kept his eyes trained on the blackness, his tough fingers closing around the small pendant that he kept close to his beating heart. He pressed at a latch on the side, and the ball popped open, revealing a tiny, austere bracelet that could belong to a young girl. He pulled out the bracelet and held it in his palm, closing his hand around it.
He knew that playing with Ruby was a good show to put on, and from day one the people at the Capitol loved their flirtations, so he decided it would be a good strategy to keep up with it, even with the thought of hurting someone looming over him.
Cora.The name itself was enough to depress him. He hadn't known her for very long, but for how long he'd known her he knew how much she impressed herself into his mind. Sweet, frail Cora, so fragile she cried at the smallest, most heartfelt thing, and yet strong enough to have killed a Career, to have outlasted even his brutal, violent older brother two Games before this one.
He could still remember the day of her Victory Tour to District 2, where everyone resented her for besting two of the best, most well-trained fighters they had. Even Charles' own family hated her weakness, hated how it was she who won instead of their oldest child, Charles' older brother.
She was so scared, poor thing, as she spoke in front of such a hostile crowd, all of them much bigger and stronger than her. Any one of them could snap her neck in a trice, even him.
But what struck him most about her was her resilience. Despite the fact that she could easily be jumped at any minute by any single one of his family members, as well as the family members of the female from his District, she cleared her throat and spoke, her voice trembling but filled with conviction. She was brave in spite of being scared, and Charles, so unlike his heartless, vicious District, so unlike his broken, harsh family, so unlike his powerful dead brother, wanted to know the story behind the name, the face of Panem's 48th victor from District 10.
When the Peacekeepers whisked her away he was overcome with the urgency to find her, to look for her, to apologize for the way his District behaved. He was ashamed of himself for being from District 2, and at the same time ashamed for thinking that way about her.
He asked for a sign, if there was anyone up there listening like his grandmother told him. He hoped that he would be heard, and he was heard.
His little brother found Cora after her dinner in the Justice Building, and at five years old had inherited the family temper that Charles suspiciously lacked. She was supposed to be preparing to board a train and leave for District 1, but had escaped from the clutches of her escort to breathe and to give herself some time and space to think and recompose herself, only for his little brother to lash out at her with harsh words that filled her eyes with tears.
"Why did you win?" Christian had shouted at her. "Cleon promised that he would come home! Why did you win? Cleon promised and you killed him!"
Charles had heard Christian's high-pitched wailing and intervened, telling Christian off for being unfair. "Kiddo, what did Cleon tell you about picking on someone your own size?"
"YOU'RE NOT CLEON!" Christian yelled at him, and it was only then that he was proud enough not to be.
He ordered Christian to look for their parents - their mother turned out to be picking a fight with Cora's mentor - and turned to the girl half his size, her brown eyes watery and downcast, unable to look up at him. Her hands were fists tight against her sides, and she turned her head slightly away when she spoke.
"If you're going to lash out too..."
"I wasn't going to."
It was the first time she looked up at him, and being so close to her, it was the first time he'd gotten a good look at her in person. She had freckles across her nose, and her eyes were wider and more innocent than he'd originally thought. Her flaming red hair was pulled back away from her face and fell across her shoulders in curled ringlets, and she just looked so frightened. A billion thoughts must have been passing through her head, wondering why a strong, looming teenage boy, family to the dead District 2 tribute that she outlived, was standing before her without any intention of hurting her. He would admit he was wondering the same.
That first meeting, while brief, kept her in his mind. A short but meaningful conversation, but he felt like he'd said more than what he ought, like she knew him better than he knew himself, like she knew him longer than even his own family.
She talked about being a victor and how she both loved and hated it at the same time; she was glad to be alive, but she was upset that so many people were angry that she was, like half the country wanted her dead. She was anxious for the next Games, where she would have to mentor another girl just like her before throwing her into the arena where there were more odds of her dying than living. But what plagued her most were the recent letters of President Snow inviting her to meet with some of the officials of the Capitol, and she knew what those entailed. The death of the boy she'd fallen in love with didn't help make it much better, and she knew that Snow was targeting her for some reason.
All those problems once she spoke of them made Charles' problems very plain, but she had urged him to talk about them, and for the first time in his life, he poured out his resentment for his family, the comparisons his parents always made with him and his tribute brother, how his father was determined to have a victor in the family that in two years' time Charles would be forced to volunteer, even though Charles didn't want to.
He saw the confusion on Cora's face that said she didn't understand, but he didn't expect her to. No matter how many times he would explain that to be raised in District 2 meant you were raised for slaughter with whatever mindset you had, whether you wanted to be a tribute or not, it was your duty to your family and your District to train as hard as you could, and if you were the most powerful, it was your obligation to volunteer.
It was essential, no matter what you thought, but for someone who didn't grow up in District 2, volunteering was suicide, and that's what Cora begged of him not to do.
"I didn't expect to meet someone like you in a place like this, and I don't want you to go through what I went through. What your brother went through. You don't deserve that."
He had no choice, though. After bringing her back to her mentor and watching her leave on the train, he spent the next two years training hard, training well, and thinking about her. The male tribute from his District in the next Games came so close to winning, but died at second place, and it only made the people around him restless, pushing him harder than he wanted, forcing him to bulk up and harden his resolve. He was the next best bet of the District, and against his wishes, volunteered for the 2nd Quarter Quell.
He didn't see her again since that day of her Victory Tour, but being a tribute gave him a bittersweet consolation. He found her in the Capitol along with the new set of District 10 tributes, working as a mentor for them. From the slight, delicate girl he'd met she turned into a nurturing lady, but she still had that same sadness in her eyes that he remembered.
He was given the drill. Practice with the Capitol weapons and re-memorize all his skills. Learn new ones that might help him in the Games. Make connections with the other Career tributes and assume his leadership over them. Work on his character - self-deprecatingly humorous, charming, brave, and quietly flirtatious. Be a victor, and win.
He did everything he could to fulfill all those expectations, and pushed them further so he would amount to more than what he was expected to be. He worked on flirting with Ruby, the District 1 female, who seemed to accept his flirting with grace, and sometimes flirted back. They established a playful rapport, with plenty of touching, teasing, and even kissing, but he knew that to both of them, it was a strategic ruse, and a very believable one at that. It was also more of an advantage for Ruby, who found any form of attention from him satisfying, but to Charles it felt robotic, like he was separate from such motions.
The only time he really felt like himself was when he found himself with Cora. It was an accident, really, that he stumbled into the District 10 floor in the first place, but suddenly it felt more like he was directed to be there, because the moment the elevator doors opened, he saw Cora standing in front of him, a surprised, pained look on her face, momentarily forgetting what she was supposed to do.
He didn't mean to be so hasty, but he found himself striding forward to wrap her in his arms, murmuring how much he missed her. Two years had not been enough to erase her from his mind and now that she was here with him, even if only for a very short while and even though he was heading off to fight for his life in an arena made to kill him, it hardly mattered anymore.
Just like before, they talked. They talked about everything that had happened after the first meeting; Charles related how he fulfilled everything he predicted would happen, and Cora told him stories about the things she'd been doing, like how it warmed her to see that her victory helped the people of her District. Letters from the Capitol stopped flooding in and she lived as normally as she could, coping with nightmares and terrors that would keep her awake at night.
She confessed how sometimes, she thought about Charles. He offered her a helping hand and kind words in a place she assumed there was none, and that made him stand out in her mind from the rest of the Career tributes she'd seen. She also admitted that it was very difficult for her to keep up any sense of normalcy at all, and with a hint of shame and guilt in her voice, told Charles about where she found her security.
"...he's not my anything. And besides, he's six years older. I don't think he sees me as anything more than a little sister."
"But you like him."
He remembered how she blushed at that admonition, and how it vaguely irked him that she did. For two years he had done nothing but train and hope to see her, but within that time span she'd found herself someone else to trust like he did with her in the form of a handsome, older man from District 4.
From her stories she met him too during her Victory Tour, and some other times during the 49th Games. He was a mellow, calm fellow, also a family member of one of the tributes from the Games she won. He too was coping with the loss of family, and he found another kind of protectiveness over her, reminding him of the family member he had lost.
"You really like your Careers, don't you?"
It was a painful way to put it. While Charles could only dream of her, she was visiting someone else, spending time with someone else. Did she forget about him until now?
"I still thought about you."
"But not enough. Not enough to come and see me, see how I'm doing. Not like you're doing with Gil."
That week at the Capitol was one of the best and worst. Mornings were filled with training, and evenings were filled with her. He didn't want to be angry at her for being confused, because he still didn't know all the horrors she faced when she was in the arena, but it was so hard not to be, especially when she assured him all Gil was was a hopeless crush.
Gil. He had never met the man but already how he hated him.
Charles kept faith, acting like a security blanket for her while he was still around. It was difficult maneuvering away from his mentor, his escort, his prep team, his District partners, and even Ruby, just to find a way to spend time with her. He tried to swallow down any feeling of inadequacy for her, like he was battling a competition he knew he would lose. The Games sounded easier to win than replacing Gil.
But even then, Cora wavered. How many times did he have to assure her that Ruby was a strategy, a tool? That everything he had to do was to up his chances at winning, so they could be victors together?
He was so broken, and it was so troublesome that he didn't know which part of him was real anymore. The Charles he pretended to be for the cameras so quickly had to burn down into the Charles he was for Cora, because they were all revolving around the same thing - the Quell. Cora's distrust didn't do anything to help him, how she doubted him every time he was with Ruby.
"It's all for you, how many times do I have to say that?"
"You didn't tell me I'd have to watch you and her together..."
Charles acted like the Career he was, but deep inside he felt like he wasn't doing enough. That even with all the strategies he put up to ensure his victory, it would be those strategies that would cause him to lose her. How everyday he had to remind her that it was all an act, and how still she had her uncertainties.
"You don't trust me."
"You know that I'm confused and tormented, Charles, this is hard for me too!"
In front of the cameras, he was smart, arrogant, conceited. Charming and self-deprecatory, making all the jokes about him and blowing kisses to adoring fans in the audience. He was a true contender for the Quell, a high-ranking bet amongst the Capitol people, a mix of both strength and humanity, knocking on the hearts of the people watching by being competitive, harsh, and steadfast, but being merciful, sweet, and doleful too. Romantic and gentlemanly yet young and vibrant with his obvious partner, Ruby, filled with spunk and sass, that they ended up made a lasting impression on the Capitol.
But at night he buried his face in Cora's lap, feeling her small hands stroking the back of his neck soothingly, both dreading the day he would have to go into the arena.
"Get up, you, I want to give you something."
Charles lifted his head to look at her, and she presented him with a small gold ball hanging from a golden chain. She pressed her thumb against a latch at the side and it popped open, revealing a secret space inside. She then unlatched the golden bracelet hanging from her wrist, placed it inside the ball, and then closed it again, the small click sounding loud in the quiet room.
"I know it would be weird for you to wear a girl's bracelet to the arena, so I asked if I could have the locket made for you, so somehow, you could keep my token with you. It worked for me, frail and wispy as I am. I know it will work for you too."
A part of her, safe with him, and a reminder of why he had to come home. A good luck kiss on his forehead, but Charles wasn't content with that. He reached for her lips, knowing that the next time he would get to do that would be after the Games were finished, when he was just as scarred and tormented as her, and that was only if he won. What if he didn't?
"Don't say that. You will win, you have win, you have to come back to me, remember?"
"When I win, is that what you're trying to tell me?"
He wondered how she was doing now, watching him in the Games. He couldn't promise to watch over her tributes, and he didn't see her again while preparing for the flight to the arena. But he did leave her filled with promises, promises he was only half-sure he could keep, and she made promises of her own too.
Was she keeping them?
"Cora," Charles murmured, letting the golden ball slip from his fingers. He ran his hands frustratedly through his hair, turning to look at the rest of his sleeping Career mates.
Cleo was huddled into a tight ball, only wisps of her hair peeking out from underneath the thin sheet on top of her. Jax's arms had fallen open from being crossed, but his eyebrows were still furrowed tensely, and Charles knew he was having a restless slumber. Ruby's back was turned to him, her slim figure unmoving, and Nori was sprawled on her back, breathing deeply.
When he wasn't on watch and he was sleeping, he would sometimes imagine that Ruby was Cora. Curled up against his chest, sleeping on his arm. She was a poor substitution, but he knew the Capitol would be getting a kick out of it, them seeing it was Ruby, but in his mind, he could pretend.
How did Cora feel about seeing him with Ruby? It was one of the things that kept Charles awake and determined. He hoped that no matter how playful and passionately he could kiss Ruby, Cora would always remember that it was for her. That this was all to lure the sponsors with the promise of something interesting to watch.
At the same time Charles was worried how what he was doing affected her. She promised to remember, but what if it was too much for her? What if right now, Cora was with Gil, finally succumbing to the pain Charles caused her? What if she believed that Charles had forgotten her because of how he was acting for the cameras, for the sponsors, for her?
Did she still even know him, or had she forgotten who he was? After seeing how brutal he could be, snapping necks and slitting them, running his sword through stomachs, feeling his muscles ripple tautly with each kill? Hearing his snarky comments and snide remarks, did she still understand that they were meant for show, or was he turning into a monster she could never forgive?
Now he understood what she meant by the Games breaking people. He'd done so many things he would chalk up to crime, and he'd seen so many others, younger, weaker, frailer than he was, die too, either at his own hands without any mercy, or because they didn't know what to do to survive. If he didn't have his own life to fight for, he would have tried to save them, which burdened him even more – he couldn't do anything to keep them alive.
He was turning into a cursed, wretched person; he could no longer see the world as something so beautiful, he could no longer look at his hands without wanting to tie them behind his back, and he was filled with self-hatred and loathing. He wanted to be severely punished, but maybe being let off the hook would be punishment enough, because what else could disturb him worse than being acquitted for the crimes of taking away the life of someone who deserved to live?
He was afraid that it would affect how he was with Cora; how could he protect someone when he was mentally and emotionally tortured himself? Maybe she would be better off with someone whole and blameless, someone who could hold her together when she was starting to come apart again. Someone who could quell her fears and wake her up from her bad dreams, like he had done that week at the Capitol.
Maybe she was better off with Gil, after all.
No, she's not, Charles thought to himself, his eyebrows furrowing angrily as he closed his eyes, trying to swallow down his irritation, pinching the bridge of his nose and letting out a frustrated sigh. You promised, and you don't break promises.
"Do you promise? You will come home; not if you win,when you win. Promise me."
"I told you I would see you again the first time I watched you board your train, remember? And I did. I saw you again, here. So when I tell you that I will see you again, I will see you again. I don't break my promises...especially for you."
"Hey," a groggy female voice called out, making Charles tuck the gold ball under his shirt. He turned to face Ruby, who was sitting up, rubbing the corner of her eye with a long, thin finger, her blonde hair unruly and coming out of her updo.
Charles offered her a weak smile. "Hey."
Ruby let out a yawn, crawling over to him and offering him her threadbare blanket. "My turn to watch."
"I'd feel more comfortable if someone watched with you," Charles told her, taking the blanket from her and ignoring her obtuse attempt to cuddle with him by pretending she was cold. He didn't want to pretend right now, and he didn't care if she froze over anyway.
"Then I'll wake Nori," Ruby assured him, her lips turning down slightly at his cold shoulder.
"I don't see any point in me sleeping," Charles sighed, leaning against the opposite side of Jax's rock, crossing his ankles and pulling the blanket up to his chin, "since I'm too tired to sleep."
Which was true, to a point. Sleep was far more often plagued with nightmares, of blood and death and Cora. Cora crying over his dead body, Cora kissing some faceless character he could only name as Gil, Cora looking at Charles like she didn't know who he was, unfamiliar, a stranger...
"Try anyway." Ruby roused Nori and they both sat on the ledge, their legs dangling from it carelessly, promising to keep watch until dawn, and then they would start scouring the woods for any of the remaining tributes left alive.
Just a few more, Cora, Charles thought, hoping that if he tried hard enough he would break into her thoughts and dreams, letting her know he was there. Was she huddled in her soft, down bed, thinking about him, worried slightly but knew that he would come home to her? He hoped that she held onto the hope that he would. Like she said, they still had so much to figure out between the two of them, and he wasn't going to let the Games take him away from her. He wasn't going to let her belong to someone else, just because he wasn't strong enough to win.
"When you wake up from this long nightmare, I promise you'll wake up to find me. Then we'll both be victors and no one can bother us, ever. Nothing, not the arena, not the other tributes, not even the President, will stop you and me. Okay?"
Charles' eyes fluttered closed, letting out a soft, distressed sigh, hardening his heart and firming his resolve, that tomorrow things will start looking up for him, that in a few more days, he will be the last one standing.
And then he would be home.
"Okay."
A/N: For Sarah, aka SomeDays...I am FINISHED! This was obviously written for us who know the shenanigans about this whole thing, but also for the readers who come across this silly piece of fiction, I do hope you enjoyed it :D
The song I used for the intro is 'Out of the Woods' by Taylor Swift, and while initially the story was not intended to be a songfic, I ended up listening to the song alongside writing the story, so it turned out to be perfectly tuned together - I was intentionally avoiding that song because I hated the intro, but turns out, it's a pretty good song!
Anyway, please review and tell me what you think! It's probably not what you were expecting but if you came across it, a penny for your thoughts, please :)