A quick chapter for y'all.

There, beyond the windows, is a beautiful image of a snowstorm, raging and powerful. The windows are glazed over with frost and as I reach to feel the coolness beneath my warm palm, I come to realization that it isn't snowing. And there are no windows. I step forward into the summer sun only to collide with the concrete floor. A curse escapes my dry lips-I force myself to stand as much as the action displeases me.

"Brady," an angelic voice calls. I don't dare reply. "Brady."

I continue down the dusty old path, hoping, praying, the voices would fade away eventually. They don't.

"Dude," another voice, a new one, calls and I wince. It was him. He, of all people, should not be allowed to exchange formalities with me, let alone speak to me. "Talk to her."

"I don't have to answer to anyone of you," I growl, my back turned to the two.

"Please," the girl implores.

My fists tighten until my knuckles turn a faint white. A subtle wind blows, hitting my face like a slap. The sun is too bright, too warm. The situation was far too complicated for me to comprehend; I push it to the back of my mind and shuffle my feet further. It was quiet idiotic for me to wander the streets of the village, seeing as I have no clue as to where I am heading to. But I had to get away. Escape from those two.

A hand grasps my shoulder and my back is soon pressed against a wall. I glance up and note that my attacker was not the tiny girl, but shockingly, him.

I scoff in disgust and turn to the girl, regardless of my current dislike towards her. "Oh wow, Mikayla. Have you gone so low as to allow red-head over here to do all your dirty work for you?"

Her arms fold across her chest. Classic Mikayla. "Stop it."

"Stop what?" I act dumbfounded even though I know I had just crossed a territory that I wish didn't. "I'm not the one who sucked faces with-"

"Shut up!" Both teenagers chorus, and I smirk.

"Look, what are you doing here?" It was a simple question, but I decide not to answer properly.

"Is that really how you treat an old friend, an old lover? My dear, sweet, Kayla," I release myself from the other's weak hold and take the girl's hands in mine. "I wanted to see my girl again."

"Well, it doesn't matter now because I'm-"

I cut her off before she can mutter the vile name. "You are mine."

"No, I was yours." She corrects. Her words are as sharp as the weapon hanging from her waist-her machete. "But you left."

"You didn't want me." I retort, resorting to childish behavior in true desperation.

She snorted. "Whatever Candace says doesn't mean I agree. And it was your choice to leave, not mine."

Another stab with her words.

"Ouch, that hurts." I fake the amount of pain that I really feel. Then I chuckle sickly because the conflict was hilarious, despite my hurt feelings.

"You're messed up." The red-head comments and I smile.

"You're related to me." Even though I wish he wasn't.

They share a look but as soon as they turn back to me, they notice an empty space. Because I was already gone.