New Chapter~~ Lalaa~~

Warmth in the Darkness, Chapter 12: Thoughts

Vivienne's P.O.V

Taking her lookalike's directions, once she got home, Vivienne ran upstairs to look for the note in her swimming bag. Sure, it was retarded, but why not? Plus, she wanted to keep it; if it was inside any longer, her mom might find it and throw it away.

Finally, she found the note nestled in between two folds of her hair towel. Heart pumping in excitement, she slowly unfolded the note. Turning the page in a circle, she read everything and looked at every picture there. She frowned. There was nothing out-of-the ordinary or even remotely interesting. Mentally rolling her eyes at her hopes, she threw everything back into her swim bag and dropped the note onto her messy desk. She lied back on her bed, staring at the ceiling. Her thoughts began to run everywhere, starting from Darrion's disappearance, to her life, and finally to her friends.

They're all so nice, she thought. So awfully nice… except for Will. But does he even count as a friend?

Her thoughts turned to the new guy, the mysterious stranger to whom she felt strangely attracted to. It was actually really weird – they've hardly spoken to each other kindly, but yet, she found it hard to remember the times when his intimidating presence wasn't there. How was life before he arrived? She'd asked herself that question countless times.

Then of course, there's that fact that he's incredibly good-looking. But that's something she'd blocked out since they'd become enemies.

Or so she thought.

His smoldering eyes were something she'd never forget in her life, and his kissable lips… She rolled onto her side and silently admonished herself for thinking these thoughts. They were enemies. Nothing more. She glared at the desk, looking at the sad piece of lined paper crumpled there. She should throw it out… clean the room too, cause it was getting on her nerves. Maybe later she will –

Ehh?

Vivienne squinted at the piece of paper from her position. Well what the hell. It seemed like she missed the fricken back of the page. She stood up and through her head rush, blindly reached for the note. She didn't mind the paining pressure – she was used to it. Slowly, the silvery dancing dots faded and she could see the piece of paper she held between her hands. As if squishing her excitement, she slowly flipped the piece of paper to the back. She cocked her head as she saw four lines that were written in her writing.

His eyes burn like the flames of Hell

The fire will freeze with the Obligatorio Spell.

She who spins the tale of hate

Will be the one to seal the fate.

Oh yay, a poem. She hated poems, except for the dark, metaphoric poems she wrote and read online. A poem usually meant thinking, or some sort of inferring, and she was too lazy to do that. Not that she was stupid – she got 90s in English. She just thought that it was too much work.

But don't you want to know? A voice whispered in her mind, dark and velvety.

Vivienne looked at the piece of paper suspiciously. It seems interesting, but… she shook her head. What was the point of it? Is her life really that boring, really that dull, that she wanted this "message from her dream" to come true?

Wake up time, she yelled to herself. Let's not play children's games. Drop the note and leave.

Vivienne moved forward to the trash can and paused. She felt oddly uncomfortable depositing the note into the bucket. Let go, she commanded herself. She did, with some difficulty. The paper fluttered to the top of the bucket. It had twirled around in the air and somehow landed on the side of her doodles. She swore that the doodle of the elephant in the middle looked sympathetically at her, and the monkey beside it looked accusing. Throwing a glare at the accusing monkey, she marched out the room defiantly.

Naps always happened at around four-ish, because of her lack of sleep. So naturally, as the clock ticked its way to 4: 35, her eyes lids drooped as she started writing the second paragraph for her history essay. The feeling of sleep was deliciously comforting, and she craved it so much that she resisted a bit, just so the feeling can keep persuading her until she finally gave in, and the world turned peaceful.

I'm cold. So cold.

Like my whole body is encased in ice. I am unable to move – frozen, like those bugs in amber. It numbs, it licks fire over my body. The pain… the pain. Unable to scream, unable to move away from the cold, unable to shrink away –

Then why not embrace it?

The cold. The pain. The numbness.

It… soothes me.

I'm cold. So cold.

It feels good.

She woke up coughing, her stomach weak from her dream. Now that she woke up, she found herself shivering and coughing like it was the end of the world. She stumbled to the bathroom, pulling open a drawer that was filled with drinks. She took a bottle of water, still coughing and shakily opened it. Taking a gulp, she almost finished it, but choked on a little of the remaining water. Coughing two times as much, she took a smaller sip. Luckily, she didn't choke on it this time. But she kept on coughing and coughing. They brought her to her knees as small silver dots spun and flashed in front of her eyes. She then started to realize that they were getting more constant, and she couldn't stop them. However, her head wasn't fuzzy, and she could think. Why wasn't her mom coming to help her, or even ask about her? She knew it was impossible not to hear the sounds. Maybe she should go downstairs to ask… but she'll probably fall flat on her face if she went down the stairs. Finally, the coughs gradually slowed, and as she pushed herself up and looked at the mirror, she found her eyes were red and bloodshot. Shaking her head, she turned her back on the reflection and stumbled back to her room. Screw her mom. If she wanted to ignore her daughter's pain, then she'll ignore hers. It was as simple as that.

Then she heard footsteps going up the stairs. Vivienne's mouth twisted –a combination of a grin and a grimace. So now she comes. She sat back expectantly and stared out the window. The door opened, and her mom strode in. She looked around, and then laid her eyes on her daughter.

"You haven't changed yet? We're eating dinner soon, so hurry up! And clean your room! Look how messy it is!" With that, her mom strode out, not even asking if she was okay from the coughing.

"I had a coughing fit," Vivienne quickly told her, trying not to have any emotion evident in her voice.

Her mom turned around, just outside her room. "I know." She shut the door.

Hurt, anger and hate clouded Vivienne's mind, and she tried not to trash every room on the top floor. If she did, her mom will have to clean everything up… which was brilliant, in this situation.

Watch your back, woman, Vivienne thought hatefully as her mother's footsteps faded away. If something happens to you… let's just say I won't hear anything.

Unknown Person's P.O.V

"Hey man. Wanna hang out after school?" Keith's voice buzzed through the phone in my ear.

I kept my eyes on him as I answered Keith. "Dunno. Where?"

"The pizza place near here."

I was only half concentrating on Keith's invitation; most of my senses were tracked on him. Every movement, every twitch of a muscle, I watched him, ready if he decided to do anything.

"Who's going?"

"Oh… everyone, man. 'Cept the chicks."

I looked away from him for a while. If everyone was going… did that mean him as well? It would be a perfect opportunity to get to know him, so to speak.

"Seriously everyone?"

Keith paused. "Well except for Will and Mike. Mike's sick and Will, well, you know."

"Hold on, another call," I lied. So he wasn't going. That's fine as well. I paused, pretending to talk to someone. Putting Keith back on, I formed a perfect excuse to get me out.

"Sorry man. My mom needs me to help with boxes and stuff." I tried to sound regretful.

"Aww… come on. Can't you help mommy later?" He mocked.

"Fuck off."

I hung up on Keith and went back to watching him.

When the last bell rang, I knew I had to hurry. His kind's the fast type, and I didn't want to lose him. In the back of my mind, I knew that I could always track him if it came to that, but it was only for desperate measures. To me, it was too annoying to be stuck in half – my brain in one form and my body in another.

As I raced to the front doors, I caught sight of smooth brown hair that just turned the corner. Smiling despite my focus, I changed course and quickly caught up to her.

My soulmate.

I turned her around and chuckled at her startled expression.

"Stop laughing," she complained, pouting.

"Sorry." I grinned.

"Are we going to get my math test now?" she asked me.

I stared at her, not knowing what she was talking about. But that was normal… for me anyway. "No. I just came here to tell you that I can't stay with you today."

Her face fell, but she tried to cover it up.

"Sorry," I said apologetically. I was almost ready to change my plans because of her disappointment… but that's when I remembered that her protection was my top priority. Hers and her friends'. So I had no choice.

"I have to help my mom clean up stuff."

I really hated lying to her.

She sighed. "Will you be here tomorrow?"

I smiled. "Yeah, why not dummy?"

She whacked me playfully. "That's good. And bring me extra food," she added happily.

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, yeah…" I leaned down and pressed my lips to hers. I pulled away after a few seconds, seeing the dazzled look on her face that never fades, no matter how many times I kissed her before.

"Sorry again," I whispered before kissing her again. Then I remembered I had to go. "I'll see you tomorrow," I called over my shoulder as I walked away.

His figure was almost disappearing into the woods when I burst out the back doors. Seeing that no one was watching, I ran as fast as I can, so in a few seconds, I was just beyond his hearing. I growled under my breath as I heard him sucking and drinking. I also heard a small heartbeat speed up before dying down.

My eyes flashed. How dare he hunt from my territory? They were my animals, and my forest. Trying to keep my head, I realized that my suspicions were confirmed by those sounds… which is a good thing.

I was now 100% sure of what he was, and that meant trouble. My lips curled in disgust as I remembered his kind's danger. They're always looking for a new prey, a new play-thing… and when they catch sight of something they want, they almost always get it.

That's when a previous suspicion floated up in my head again. A memory that left me reeling from shock. I recalled sitting in English, a few rows behind him, watching him, when he suddenly lost interest of what Mr. Gyld was saying and turned his head to a diagonal right. I followed his gaze, and found myself looking at my little sister figure. Not my soulmate – she always sits beside me. But her – she was like the little sister that my parents didn't want. She was, of course, captivated by the teacher's jokes – she loved English. But him. He was watching her, like I was watching him, in that same intensity. I didn't know why he was watching her with that unreadable face; all I knew was that she was in trouble. It was always best not to catch their kind's attention if they wanted to live or not suffer from brain damage.

Suddenly, I heard a twig crack from behind me. It wasn't him; I could still hear him walking that way.

Someone was following me.

Fuck.

Coraa Misora's P.O.V

"Coraa! Over here!"

"Coraa! Coraa! Here!"

"Ms. Misora! Can you look this way please?"

"Coraa!"

Coraa ignored the reporters' shouts as she walked to the building, sliding on her oversized sunglasses. Not that she was heartless – no, she was still at the stage of being overwhelmed by her fame. But before Ramane left, her manager told her strictly to not look at any reporters until she entered the building. And just to make sure, she'd even told a story about someone being trampled on or something.

She tried not to sigh as she thought about Ramane. She wished her manager was right beside her in this mess. But apparently she had to go to a meeting with the company, so for the eighth time, she sent someone else. She peeked beside her at the tall, lean sixteen-year-ish-old guy who was protecting her with just his glares. Coraa almost smiled – she had met him earlier, and he was very nice and had a great sense of humour. Apparently he was Korean, and his name was Choi Seung Hyun or something. She searched inside her head to look for the Korean information stored inside. They relied heavily on respect, so the most important thing was to be polite. So since he was older and in the work environment… she should call him Choi Sajangnim… right? But he wasn't that much other than her… Oh, whatever.

But Ramane… it was her tenth meeting in a week, and she usually only had one or two meetings per month. Her heart suddenly dropped. What if… they decided to kick her out of the company? It was too soon for that to be happening… she only just released her first album! She calmed down when she realized that they wouldn't drop her, since she was making money, big time. Then what about Ramane herself? Is she getting yelled at or something, for not doing a good job? Was she in trouble? But Ramane didn't seem to look anxious or anything the last time she saw her.

As if reading her thoughts, the reporters turned to a new issue. "Coraa! Coraa! Where's your manager?"

They peered past the security guards' bodies.

"Yeah! Did she retire? Is she sick? Where is she?"

"She retired, didn't she? She hasn't been with you since last month!"

"Maybe she got fired!"

There was a collection of gasps. Coraa tried not to flinch. Her part-time manager glanced at her and put a hand around her shoulders, leaning down. "Ignore them. Ramane's fine."

Coraa nodded in thanks, trusting this stranger. She then firmly closed off her hearing, making the reporters' shouts sound like one big wave of noise. At last, they arrived at the door which had two security guards guarding it. They nodded at Choi Sajangnim, opened the door and formed a wall on either side with their body. Coraa stepped in without a glance behind her and followed him closely to the hair and makeup room.

"Good job with the interview," Choi Sajangnim said on the way back to SJ Entertainment. "You answered the questions about Ramane-ssi pretty well."

Coraa smiled at him and bowed her head. "Thank you."

She slid off her sunglasses and put her hood up. The interview had been intense at the end – all the reporters had started to wonder why Ramane wasn't present, and they kept asking questions about it. Even the host couldn't stop them. The problem about the questions was that even she didn't know anything about it, so she couldn't lie or anything.

"Don't worry about her, Coraa," Choi Sajangnim said, seeing her worried face. "She's probably fine."

Coraa turned to look at him. He sounded like he knew something about the meetings. "Choi Sajangnim… do you happen to know what's going on?"

His concerned face flickered with knowledge that quickly disappeared. "I don't think you should be worrying about her," he cautiously said.

"And I should worry about myself?" Coraa cut in, despite how rude it was.

He didn't seem to care. "No, no, no…" He looked away for a second. "I don't think it's about what you think it is…" He chose his words carefully. Coraa looked at him, confused. He sighed. "It may be more personal than you think," he finally said.

"Oh."

Choi Sajangnim sat back and sighed again. "I think I might've already said too much… can you make sure that Ramane-ssi doesn't know what I told you?"

Coraa nodded, even though he couldn't see her. "Don't worry about that. I'll keep it a secret." She smiled at his back.

When they got back to SJ Entertainment to drop her off, Choi Sajangnim got out of the car along with her to say goodbye. He grabbed her shopping bags and they walked together in a companionable silence to the main doors.

"Choi Sajangnim… thank you." She bowed to him respectfully in front of the doors.

He bowed as well. "No problem. It was a pleasure working with you, Coraa… and I expect you to win all the Grammys soon." His face relaxed as he smiled. "Please send Ramane-ssi my regards as well," he added as he handed her the bags.

Coraa laughed. "Thank you. It was great working with you too. Maybe we'll see each other soon." She bowed deeper and waited until he went back inside the car and drove away.

With his warm blessing still in her ears, she turned and went through the sliding doors. It was cool and bright inside, with the white interior reflecting all the small lights on the ceilings and walls. In the foyer, there was a white wall in the middle, with two small lights shining on a sign that boasted SJ Entertainment's logo. Coraa tried to hide a smile. She was still obsessing over the fact that she now actually had a place inside the company… as an active artist, too! It was unbelievable.

Her high heels clacked on the white marble floor as she walked past the wall and deeper into the company's office. A big, circular receptionist desk was placed in the middle and seats were lined up in front of walls. The chirpy young receptionist who was currently there looked up, and smiled the moment she saw Coraa's figure approaching her.

"Welcome back, Coraa!" She greeted. "How was the interview?"

Coraa smiled at her. "It was fine, thank you." She shifted the bags so that they rested on the crook of her arm. "Um… can you tell me where Ramane is?"

The receptionist rolled her chair over to the closest computer and began typing. After a while, she finally answered, "She's in a meeting right now at Meeting Room 425." The girl tapped her nails against the table as she scrolled down to check the information. "It should be over now… why don't you go up and see if she's available?" Her gaze then shifted to the bags. "Would you like someone to help you with those?" She pushed herself up and got out of the circular desk.

Coraa looked down at them. "No, it's fine."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. And thank you."

The girl briskly strode to the misty doors that Coraa was about to go through and opened it, smiling.

"Thank you." Coraa nodded to the receptionist.

"No problem. Remember: Meeting Room 425." The girl smiled and let the door close.

Coraa transferred the bags to her other arm as she pressed the up button of the elevator. They were getting strangely heavier by the second. She kept moving them back and forth until the elevator dinged and the glassy door opened. She stepped inside and giving up, dropped the bags on the floor beside her.

By the time she found Meeting Room 409, she was sore. Her feet ached from the high heels, her eyes weren't quite used the bright lights yet, and her arms were heavy boulders. Coraa rolled her eyes and went to find an empty room first. She was lucky – the Meeting Room 418 was empty. She placed her bags in the corner and slid off her high heels. From one of the bags, she took out a pair of converse and put them on, feeling comfortable at last. Then she set off, looking for Ramane.

As she neared Meeting Room 425, she could hear fierce murmurs and whispers. Coraa kept quiet and crept just outside the door, which was opened a crack. Thinking that the meeting was still going on, she kept quiet and listened.

"...don't think you can manipulate me into doing this!" It was Ramane's voice. Coraa tried to keep her breathing quiet and prayed that no one would walk pass her.

"Listen, just because I formed an alliance with you, it doesn't mean that I'm your slave! I'm not looking for this girl for you!"

When Ramane paused, Coraa stiffened. The meeting was over. Ramane was talking on her cell. Still, Coraa felt the need to listen and not to barge in.

"I am not taking orders from you, Jayden! If you need this girl for you 'plans' then find her yourself." Ramane paused. "I don't care how powerful she is, or what good she would do on our side! I'm not one of your small… minions," Ramane spat. Then her voice lowered so much that Coraa had to lean farther in. "If you really say that she's the reincarnation of Morgan Le Fay, and holds the same amount power as that witch, then I won't be strong enough anyway." She paused again before her voice turned mocking. "But I'm just a small, weak, pathetic, useless vampire hunter. What more can I do?"

Coraa immediately pulled back. That was stupid. Ramane was probably talking about a video game or something.

But she doesn't play video games, a voice in her head whispered.

Whatever.

Anyways, there was no point in listening in. It wasn't about her or Ramane's future in the industry. Coraa rolled her eyes and went back to Meeting Room 418 to pick up her bags and put on her high heels. That way, she could formally announce her arrival when she went back to Meeting Room 425, and Ramane could have enough time to wrap up her retarded conversation.

But by the time she slid on her heels and clacked down the hallway to the room, she found that the lights were turned off, the door was open, and the room was empty.

How's your summer? It should be better than mine. xP I spend most of my time planning out the next chapters. ^^ Review please?