SIMON

It's pathetic, but I carry around my wand with me, tucked in the bottom of my backpack. Almost three years without magic, and it still calms some of the anger I feel whenever I think about everything that happened those last few years at Watford. I just never knew it would come in handy.

I start testing it out slowly, and it's like flexing a muscle I'd forgotten to use in ages.

No, it feels like getting an arm back. It feels like a fucking gift and a curse all at once.

Penny's singing in the shower the first time I try a spell. She's a terrible singer, off pitch from the get go. Normally I raise the volume of the television as far as it can go until she runs out of the bathroom, hair coated in conditioner and clinging to a towel.

"Are you deaf?" She would ask, blinking quickly against the burn of shampoo.

"If you keep singing I will be," I would shoot back. It's our regular routine. It would be comforting if not for the fact that my ears bleed a little each time she starts.

Today, I go for something a little different.

Now that I know what to look for, I feel my magic constantly. Crashing against the inside of my skin, swirling around like a tide pool, deeper than the depths of the ocean. And I start to understand what magic is like for other people. A never–ending flame in Baz, a bottomless well in Penelope.

"Open Sesame." I whisper, and watch as the bathroom door swings open a few inches. The wood doesn't splinter and it stays on its hinges, so I consider it a success. "Open Sesame." I try again, louder this time. It pushes forward a bit more. There's sweat doting my forehead, and my arm quivers with the strain of it, but it's the good kind of ache. This time when I say it, it comes out a little less than a shout, and thick with magic. And the door flies forward, banging against the tub and making Penny shriek.

"Baz! Micah! Whichever of you children is doing this, stop," she yells, and the door slams shut. I'm sort of gasping, sucking in more air than I need because it feels like that's the only way to shove my magic back down. It doesn't go down easily, not by a long shot, but it takes less of me to get it to do what I want than before.

"Simon!" Baz races into the room, flustered. "Are you not ready to go?"

"Go?"

He groans, stretching his lips over his fangs. "You said you wanted to be there when I signed the papers for the flat."

I don't remember that, but I haven't been paying much attention to anything lately. "Go on without me. I promised I would help Penny get school supplies."

"Did you now?" Penny steps out from the bathroom fully dressed, dragging a brush through her hair and wincing at each knot. With Baz's eyes on her, I shoot her my most pleading look

Don't rat me out Penny, please. "Right, I forgot." She lies smoothly, and I don't think Baz notices the way she squints at me. "Give me a few minutes to get my shoes and we'll be off."

Baz sniffs. "I would have assumed you would like to join, Bunce, what with you not allowing me to make any choices on my own."

"I'm sure you can handle signing a few documents. Of course I can come and hold your hand if you'd like."

He sneers at her, which only makes her laugh. "I'm leaving."

She waits until she's sure he's gone before whirling on me. "Lying to the boyfriend? Highly suspicious."

"It's not technically a lie," I reply, reaching down and grabbing my tail so I'll have something to do with my hands. My wand pokes into my back, but if I move, she'll see it. "We can go and get supplies. But we'll need to make a pit stop along the way."

"All right, Simon. You're making me nervous."

"Come on," slipping my wand into my back pocket, I pull her up from where she laces her shoes. "I can't think of a better way to show you what's going on. I'll explain once we get there."

She's nearly boiling over with questions by the time the cab pulls up in front of one of Julliard's performance halls. "What are we doing here, Simon?" She asks as I pay the driver. "How did you even know where this is?"

"Baz brought me here once," I take her by the elbow and tug her forward. She allows herself to be pulled but yanks away from me as soon as we enter the theatre. "Come on Penny, we're already here, might as well go all the way."

"If this is some sort of sacrifice, I'm going to be incredibly pissed."

"If I planned on sacrificing you, I would have done it ages ago for unlimited scones." She's silent as she considers what I've said, before nodding begrudgingly.

She goes up the stairs to the stage with me, and it really is incredible. It feels as if the rows of chairs stretch on for miles, thousands of people watching. I spent a lifetime having people scrutinizing my every mistake, but up here, people would only see the good.

I can see why Baz loves it.

"You have five minutes Simon," Penny folds her arms around herself, bouncing on her toes to keep warm. The air conditioning is cranked all the way up, and it makes me shiver. "What's going on?"

I don't answer, hesitating slightly before blowing out a sigh and taking out my wand. "Simon…" her eyebrows knit together with confusion.

Ignoring her, I feel around for my magic, balling it up and directing it towards my wand. "All That Jazz!" For a second, I'm afraid nothing will happen. That this morning was a one time thing and I'm just as magickless as always.

And then a single note rings through the theatre, a violin hovering in the air and bow moving across the string. Penny gasps, a hand flying to her mouth as another violin joins in.

And then another one.

And another one.

And then a supersized version of a violin. Cello, a voice that sounds a lot like Baz's supplies for me.

Soon, an entire orchestra is playing a song that sounds pretty familiar. If I close my eyes, I can see Baz standing in the living room, his face a mask of concentration as he draws the bow over the strings. His fingers moving faster than I can see them.

He's never more beautiful than when he's playing.

"Simon," Penny steps forward, touching my hand. It startles me, and a wrong note rips through the song. "You were right," she sounds stunned, and that in itself is astonishing. Penny is rarely ever surprised. But I guess I've made a sort of habit of doing just that. "Your magic…"

"It's back," I finish for her when she can't. She whips around and around, taking it all in, before turning back to me, a beam breaking out across her face.

"This is incredible!" She screams, clapping her hands together excitedly. It makes my heart sprint and the song picks up space to match it. "Simon, why aren't you elated? This is the best news we've gotten in years!" She throws her arms around me, squeezing tight.

I hug her back for a second, before gently disentangling myself from her. "Simon," she cocks her head to the side, her expression falling, "what's wrong? Maybe elation is a bit of a stretch, but I don't think expecting a tiny bit of happiness is too much."

"I think I have to go," I say shakily, and then it dawns on me. The reason why I can't enjoy this, why I can't think of my magic without overwhelming sadness, is because I always knew deep down that it meant I couldn't stay.

"Okay, " Penny frowns, "we can head back to the apartment, talk about this there. Have you told Baz yet? Because I'm sure he'll love it."

"No," I shake my head, swiping angrily at my cheeks, "I have to go home. Back to England."

"What in the world would give you that idiotic idea?"

I back away from her, because I can't let her excitement touch me. If it does, I'll have hope that this will all work out. And then it'll be that much more devastating when it doesn't.

"Baz and I, we work like this. No magic, no danger because of me. When I–when I was the Chosen One...there was a death sentence lingering over the both of us. We just never knew who the executioner would be."

"That wasn't because of magic, Simon. It was because of everything else. The Mage," her voice cracks, "the war, the –"

"Insidious Humdrum?" I growl. "The dead spots? Everything The Mage did," this time we both cringe. "It was because of me and my magic, all of it. And Baz was hurt over and over again because of it. There's no dimension where magickal Simon and vampire Baz can be together."

"You're wrong," Penny says firmly, but she's shaking too. "You can't leave Simon. Not now, it'll kill him. It'll kill the both of you."

"No, it might hurt us, but this is the only way I can make sure he stays alive."

BAZ

"Bloody idiots," I seethe, slamming the door shut and scowling at the driver as I throw the money at him. "Fucking assholes." The driver stares back at me, (offended by my language, or the fact that he has to fish a five from the floor, I don't know. I don't care very much either) before peeling away from the curb, nearly clipping a parked car.

I add him to my list of people to curse, swallowing back a snarl when a petite, blonde woman walks up to me.

"Tyrannus Pitch?" She asks sweetly, stumbling over my name like most tend to do.

"I go by Basilton actually," she flinches away from my tone, jagged and annoyed, and I have to remind myself that she's not the reason I'm currently in such a foul mood. (Well, not the sole reason anyway.)

...

"I'm not understanding the problem," I fumed an hour earlier, glaring at the bald-headed man in front of me as he fiddled with the papers in his hands. "I want to buy this apartment and you need to make a sale."

"It's not that simple," he stammered, shrinking away from me as I bared my teeth. Just because I was feeding from Simon didn't mean the urge to drain those who annoy me ever truly went away. "I was only planning on renting."

I glared at him, standing and pacing along the floor. It was something to do, something to keep me from lunging across the table and sinking my fangs into his neck. It also had the added bonus of increasing his obvious anxiety. "Really? Because I heard the tail end of that conversation you had with the earlier couple. You didn't seem to have any problem discussing sale prices with them."

"That was different," he chewed nervously on the end of pen cap.

"How so?" I asked coolly, holding onto the back of my vacated chair and leaning forward. "Is it because I seem like the type of fool who would agree to renting an apartment at an inappropriately high price? Or because while the other couple was prehistoric, my boyfriend and I are just young and naïve enough to fall for your shit?"

"Neither," he nearly screamed, cowering in his seat. I almost took pity for him (almost). "But-"

"But nothing Mr. Casey. Either you plan to sell me this apartment, or I'll do you one better and buy the damned building." I wouldn't. (Even if Father would give me the money, which is so ridiculous a notion that I won't even think of it, there's no way Simon and I could take care of a building. Simon would, I don't know, do something ridiculous, probably dealing with food.)

But Mr. Casey took one good look at me, at my grey suit (Penelope makes fun of the sheer amount of suits I own. I think it makes me look professional. Simon says it makes me look like a Bond villain. I think he likes that) and my characteristically disdainful expression, and he was trembling.

"Very well, Mr. Pitch. Here," he thrust the papers out to me, and I had half a mind to rip them up. Throw them back into his face. And then bite him.

I did none of those things. Instead, I signed the papers, made sure the funds were properly transferred and left the flat, now my flat, feeling both smug and irritated.

I planned to return to Micah's and complain to Simon, but just as soon as I'd flagged down a cab, my phone rang.

"Yes," I snapped, holding a hand up to the driver when he began to pull into traffic.

"Tyrannus Basilton Pitch?"

"This is he."

"Excellent," the woman squeaked, "I'm Stephanie Kane, and I'll be your peer advisor this year? I thought it would be nice if we could meet before classes start; make this transition as easy as possible for you by showing you where everything is?" She had a grating voice, the type that turned up into a question even when it wasn't meant to.

"That really won't be necessary."

"Nonsense," I didn't think she could muster anything above a squeak, "I'm free, and you're in the city, right?"

"Well, yes-"

"Then I'll see you in fifteen." The phone cut off and I was left staring at the screen, appalled. And then I turned to the driver. "Do you know the address of The Peter Jay Sharp Theater?" He nodded mutely. "Outstanding, let's go."

...

Hence my snapping. It seems that everyone this morning seems hell-bent on aggravating me. "You're Stephanie, yes?" I manage to be somewhat polite and she runs with it.

"Yeah, but most people call me Stephie, or Steph, anything's fine."

"Great." When it's clear I don't plan on saying much else, she takes a tentative step towards me.

"Well, it's nice to finally meet you?" She says, giving me a quick hug. I stiffen, but don't push her away. "I've heard so much about you, everyone around here has?"

I frown, inching away from her and smoothing my hands down my jacket. "Really? How?"

"Someone leaked your audition video, you were incredible? Especially for someone with no classical training?"

I run my tongue over my teeth, grimacing slightly when my fangs poke into me. "I had private tutors but my other…studies took priority."

"Of course?" She's so short that she has to crane her neck all the way back to smile at me. "Well, we're glad to have snatched you up now? Should we start the tour?"

I feel a headache coming on, but she's taken the time out of her schedule to play tour guide, so the least I can do is humor her. "Please."

"Cool," she bounces forward, glancing over her shoulder, "well come on then, slow poke, we've got a lot of ground to cover?" I shuffle towards her, my shoulders slumping forward (being with Simon has been murderous on my posture) and adopt what I can only hope passes for a friendly smile. "First stop, my absolute favorite performance hall on campus? I played there my freshman year in a showcase and it was the best feeling in the entire world?"

I very rarely get to speak with anyone other than my father about music, and my curiosity begins to outweigh my general reluctance. "What instrument do you play?"

"Instruments," she corrects, her shoulders straightening and her voice becoming less perky, more assured. "I started playing the cello when I was five, the harp when I was eight, the alto sax and the guitar when I was thirteen, and I actually just started the piano."

I nod, my respect for her tripling in seconds. "And here I thought I was impressive."

She snorts, holding the door to one of the more popular performance halls open for me. "Please. I've never heard anyone play Tchaikovsky's Violin Concerto like you. You've got all the violinists shaking in their boots." She pauses. "Or black loafers I guess."

I chuckle before I can stop myself. Maybe she won't be as infuriating as I thought. "Only the violinists?"

"I'm untouchable here Basilton, but I think you may have worried some freshman?" She teases, elbowing me lightly.

"Baz," I say, making the decision quickly that maybe this girl won't make for a terrible friend (and it's not like I don't need some. Simon, Bunce, Micah on occasion, and a few guys from uni back in England make for a small circle). "Most people call me Baz."

She nods, and her smile looses some of its sheen, becomes more genuine. "Baz, cool." She starts to say something else, but then stops and tilts her head to the side, listening. Now that I'm paying attention, I can hear it to, faintly. "No one should be in here?"

It doesn't take me long to recognize the notes. Beethoven's Fourth. My favorite piece to listen to, and one of my favorites to play when I haven't practiced in a while and need something to loosen my limbs and get me back into the music.

"Come on, normally my advisees don't get to see me banish people from my hall, but I already knew you were special."

"Your hall?"

"I really hope this backtalk won't be a normal occurrence Baz," she laughs, pushing into the hall.

I follow after her, but grab her shoulders and whirl her around when I see what's happening.

"Make a Wish!" Bunce cries, and the music screeches to a halt. Stephanie tries to turn around and I tighten my grip on her shoulders, watching as the instruments hover in the air for one final moment before floating back to where they came from.

"Um, I like you too Baz, but I think you're going to have to let go," Stephanie bats at my hands, whipping around before I can stop her. Her eyes dart around the stage, and her confusion is palpable. "Who are you?" She calls.

Penelope looks as if she wants to flee, and Simon…

Simon's all wrong. His face is flushed, and his eyes are red (from crying most likely). If I breathe in too deep, I can taste the salt in the air, and it's coming straight from him.

"We just wanted to get a look at where Baz'll be spending her time," Penelope says, bounding down the stairs and pulling Simon along. "And now that we have, I think we'll be off."

"You know them?" Stephanie asks, turning to look at me. "Well, of course you know them," she bangs her forehead with a laugh, "what with the whole British thing. And it's not like you have a super common name or anything."

"Yes, this is Penelope Bunce and my boyfriend, Simon Snow."

Stephanie slaps her hand to her forehead again. "Boyfriend? I totally misread some signs! Good thing we got that out of the way." I would blush if I could, but I haven't had anything to drink in the last two days. "Hi, I'm Stephanie?" She shakes both their hands before they have the chance to offer it to her. "I'm Baz's peer advisor."

I watch Simon carefully, expecting a laugh, a smile (the usual Snow nonsense). Instead, his eyes meet mine for a second before moving away like I've burned him. "Nice to meet you, Stephanie." Penelope says, throwing a concerned glance over at Simon.

"Yeah," Simon mumbles.

"Say Stephanie," I start, "would you mind if we reschedule this tour?" Simon's eyes dart up, and he gives the slightest shake of his head. I keep going, squinting at him. "I should head back with them."

"No," Simon says, and it makes me tense up, "stay. This is important."

Stephanie looks from Simon to me, and she frowns. "It can wait?"

"No, it can't. Penny, let's go." He takes her arm and begins pulling. They've disappeared before I realize what's happening.

"I'm really sorry Stephanie-"

She shakes away my apology. "I don't even know them and I could tell that something was up. Go, we can do this some other day."

By the time I get to the curb, they're long gone.

By the time I finally get a cab, they're probably back at the apartment.

By the time I'm standing in front of Micah's apartment, I'm ready for the world to end.