(Author's notes: I am so sorry that this chapter has been two weeks late. My pregnancy has been difficult these last few weeks and my anxiety spiked around Thanksgiving. I just couldn't do anything. I didn't write. I didn't draw. I could only take care of my family and get through each day.

But there is some good news. I had my big ultrasound last week and we're having a boy (This will be boy number three, so no girls in his family). My sons were so funny because they really wanted a baby sister. My four-year-old burst into tears.

Because my anxiety usually stays bad around the holidays, I'll be changing my posting schedule. I'll be posting a chapter every other day on Tuesday, but only for a month or two. I hope that by February I'll be better and can write more.

Thank you everyone for your support. I hope you are enjoying the story. I know the Tokyolk arc isn't as action packed as the other parts, but I really like going into Gladstone's character. I'll see you in two weeks.)

Twisted Strings of Fate

Chapter 34

I never stood a chance. She was always right there, watching. I don't get to make choices. Things never go as I think they will.

Gladstone struggled against the steel-like grip, but with what little knowledge of brawling he had collected through his life, he couldn't do anything to get free. With the noise of the singer and the crowd, nobody would notice he had been taken unless they looked for him. How long would that be? A few minutes? More? Would they think he just wandered off until they realized that something was wrong?

"Hey, what's going on?" a man asked from behind.

"Mind your own business," one of the Beagle Boys growled. "Beat it, if you know what's good for you."

"Stop them!" a voice shouted over the noise still echoing from the shark tank area.

"Oh, the jig is up," another Beagle Boy said. It was strange to hear gangster vernacular in a Japanese accent.

"This way," the deep voice of Gladstone's captor growled, pulling the half-goose through a side door and up some stairs.

Going through another door, they came into a large room filled with screens, sound equipment, and lots and lots of buttons. The screens showed multiple sections of the aquarium, but it was mainly focused on the shark tank where a singer was bowing after their song. The large speakers in the room were blaring out the sound of thunderous applause.

"What's going on here?" Two women and a man were sitting at the screens, and at the arrival of the Beagle Boys, stood up.

One of the Beagle Boys began barricading the door while the rest pulled out a smattering of weapons from ninja stars, to katanas, to ordinary switch blades. None of them held the weapons in any artistic form like true warriors, but there was no doubt that they knew how to hurt people with them.

"Get down on the ground if you know what's good for you," a Beagle Boy said to the three in a threatening voice.

"This is a dead end," another grumbled. "How are we supposed to get out?"

"You there," Gladstone's captor yelled, indicating one of the women. "Is there another way out?"

"No. This is just the recording studio," she said with a trembling voice.

"Way to go, brother. Now what are we going to do?"

"I'm thinking. I'm thinking."

He didn't have long to think when the recording studio's door squealed before being ripped from its hinges, revealing Scrooge McDuck and his entourage, at the forefront a metal duck holding the twisted remains of the door.

"Can't you wait a few more minutes?" Charity pleaded, looking through the crowd for any sign of Drake.

"There are a lot of other contestants waiting their turn," the woman who was directing the karaoke contest said. "If he's not here, he's disqualified."

"Then move both of us back, just a few singers. Or at the end," Charity reasoned. "As I said, there's an emergency."

"One of which you will not give me the specifics," the woman said with a suspicious expression. "The rules are clear. If he misses his slot, he's disqualified. And contestants can't be switched around. The song order is already in the computer, and nobody is to tamper with it."

"But—"

"There are to be no exceptions. If your friend doesn't show up in the next five seconds, he's disqualified," the woman said, looking at her watch. "And…that's it. Looks like you're up."

Charity paled, her eyes widening at the audience still keyed up from the last singer. She could already imagine the crickets chirping and the blank stares she would get as she would walk on stage and not be able to sing a note. She needed Drake to be here, not only as moral support, but also to spur her courage on. She needed Launchpad and Fenton to look at, to pretend that the room wasn't filled with people who would rip her apart if they didn't like her song.

"Well…are you going on? Or am I canceling you as well?" the woman asked, not caring one way or the other.

Charity would be as happy as punch to just walk away from the contest, but she did promise Gladstone. And if it wasn't for the fact that Gladstone was a decent person who only pretended to be half-way decent person, she would have left him high and dry.

"No, I'm going on," Charity croaked, her throat tightening.

"Lovely," the woman said blandly, holding open the curtain for Charity to walk through.

Charity had played games against gods and won, she had saved herself from an ex-billionaire—who was only a millionaire right now, but still impressive—and kicked a psychopath in the crotch—sorry Jim—she wasn't going to let a wimpy karaoke contest get her down.

"Just one second," Charity said, reaching for the trash can and heaving a few times to empty her stomach. When there was nothing left, she wiped her beak against the curtain. "Sorry about that," she said to the woman before walking on stage, exuding confidence she quickly built up inside.

"This is Charity Loveatte singing Broken and Beautifuli by Kelly Larksong," the woman at the computer announced in a microphone.

It took the audience a moment to realize that they actually cared about the name coming over the speakers. There were whispers and mutterings before the crowd's cheering grew level by level, phones flashing and waving to catch some video footage of the lovebird.

Charity realized that even if she didn't know anyone in the audience, they knew her. They had seen her at her toughest and knew where she was vulnerable. They may see her as an actress playing a fictional character and had no idea of who she was. They didn't know it was her that was dragged through the underworld, didn't know just how messed up her life was. To this crowd, she might be an internet sensation, but the curse, her love life, her suicide attempt, they didn't know that was real.

And in a way, that comforted her. Whatever happened next, it might be real for her, but this audience only saw an extension of a persona.

The music started up, soft but upbeat, the beginning lyrics appearing on the small screen in front of her as well as the larger one behind, but she didn't need the words. This was her song, the music that kept her going when the curse was too much.

She picked up the microphone and sang:

I never held my hand out and asked for something free
I got pride I could roll out for miles in front of me
I don't need your help, and I don't need sympathy
I don't need you to lower the bar for me.

She relaxed, feeling the music enough to move her hips and dance a little on stage, which brought her a round of cheers from the audience. Her smile brightened.

I know I'm Superwoman, I know I'm strong
I know I've got this 'cause I've had it all along
I'm phenomenal and I'm enough
I don't need you to tell me who to be.

As she came to the chorus, she changed her tone, remembering how alone she was. She wanted Launchpad, Drake and Fenton there. Why weren't they there? What happened? She knew they hadn't abandoned her, but she couldn't help but feel forgotten.

Can someone just hold me?
Don't fix me, don't try to change a thing
Can someone just know me?
'Cause underneath, I'm broken and it's beautiful

And as she sang the words that gave the song its title over and over again, she put her whole heart in it, having felt just as she did when she first heard the song. She was broken. The curse had fractured her heart, turned her into something not quite whole. But despite all that, despite the injuries and sicknesses she suffered through, she knew she was beautiful. Well, she always knew she was beautiful on the outside because so many people had told her, but when she sang this song, she felt beautiful on the inside. And she knew she was beautiful because she was broken.

I'm broken and it's beautiful!

Before the Beagle Boys could react, Mrs. Beakley ran out from behind Gizmoduck, grabbing the massive man who had Gladstone in a headlock and threw him to the ground in a perfect Judo move. Mr. McDuck wasn't too far behind her, swinging his cane and disarming several of the ruffians of their blades.

Gizmoduck strode in, grabbing whatever weapons he could, his metal suit preventing his hands from being cut as he bent the blades. However, the dozen or so Beagle Boys in the room didn't just have weapons to fight with. Three of the men were large enough that they must have been professional sumo wrestlers by the rolls of fat and their garb. These three charged Gizmoduck, forcing him to stop in his tracks.

Only a few seconds behind the others, Drake and Launchpad rushed in, the pair working together as if they had done it all their lives. As the Beagle Boys crowded around Scrooge's group, Drake and Launchpad picked off the smaller thugs to whittle down the numbers.

Fenton, in his new suit, felt so small in comparison to the three large men. For once, he wished he had the bulk of his old suit. Just as he felt his feet sliding back, he heard a song pouring out of the speakers that made him slip a bit in his stance. The Gizmoduck program in his contact lenses zoomed in on the screens in the room.

"It's Charity," Fenton said, realizing they had left her behind, left her alone to face that audience by herself. "We promised to be there for her."
"We're kind of busy," Mrs. Beakley grunted as she gave a Beagle Boy a roundhouse kick to the side. "She'll handle it."

Engaging one of his weapons, Fenton zeroed in on each of the sumo-sized Beagle Boys and gave them a dose of tranquilizer. The three flinched at the prick of the dart but they weren't affected. Of course, each dart was loaded for an average-sized person, not for an extra, extra, extra large. He prepared to dart them again but wasn't certain how much their bodies could handle of the drug. If he gave them too much, it could be dangerous.

Before he could decide, one of the Beagle Boys grabbed him by the shoulder and his upper thigh, lifting Gizmoduck in a classic professional wrestler move and throwing him. Fenton tumbled through the air, and if it wasn't for the Gizmoduck suit engaging an emergency maneuver to extend his retractable limbs to stop himself in midair, he would have rammed into Drake and Launchpad. The pair had ducked in anticipation of having Gizmoduck fall on them, and looked up in surprise.

"Someone needs to go watch Charity," Fenton said as he brought his retractable limbs back. That had been an odd sensation with the new suit, one he would have to get used to.

Drake dodged a punch before giving a kick to a Beagle Boy. "Then go. We can handle this."

Right at that moment, the three sumo wrestlers charged Gizmoduck, Drake and Launchpad. Fenton, determined they could take another dose, fired off three more darts. For such large men, they were surprisingly agile; either that or Fenton was a bad shot because he only hit one of them. As one staggered to the ground, Fenton braced Gizmoduck to take the brunt of the charge, protecting Drake and Launchpad.

"No, you two go," Fenton shouted, pushing back against the Beagle Boys.

"But—" Drake protested.

"You could get hurt and thus hurt Charity," Fenton rationalized. "I'm protected by my suit, so I will stay behind."

Drake clenched his jaws, remembering how he had froze back at Torataro's office. There was no way he was going to let Gizmoduck show him up again. Even if he wasn't dressed for the part, he was still Darkwing Duck. "I'm a hero, too. I'm not going to run away."

"Idiot," Fenton spat, pushing the Beagle Boys back but only a few feet. It was enough that he could lay a few punches to the thugs, giving him a few seconds before they recuperated. "Do you think I like it this way? If I could, I would trade places with you, let you be in the suit and stay to fight." The Beagle Boys loomed over him, and he slammed his elbow into one's gut and performed an upper cut to the other. "But that can't happen. So just go!"

Drake was so stunned by Fenton's words that it wasn't until Launchpad pulled on his arm that he moved, racing down the stairs and back into the dancing crowd. As the two pushed their way to the front, Charity's words grew stronger.

We're walking on the ocean, turning water into wine
We bury our emotion and pretend that we're just fine
The only way to live now is to know you're gonna fly
Don't listen to the lying liars and their lies

Charity fed off of the crowd's excitement, however, she almost faltered in her singing when she felt a stinging across her knuckles, feeling as if she had smashed them against a wall. She knew that bruises were forming, but she kept singing, praying that the boys were fine.

What was happening to them?

I know I'm Superwoman, I know I'm strong
I know I've got this 'cause I've had it all along
I'm phenomenal and I'm enough
I don't need you to tell me who to be.

Men and women were braced up against the stage, cheering her on. She almost felt like a superstar at the attention. Yes, it was exhilarating, but at any moment, she could break apart. Why did she have to be alone right now?

Can someone just hold me?
Don't fix me, don't try to change a thing
Can someone—

Her voice caught as a familiar face broke through the crowd. He was jostled around as he fought to get through before a wave of bodies slammed him against the stage. His breath was knocked out, but she felt the pain in her stomach.

Drake gave her an encouraging smile as he stopped fighting the audience, perfectly fine where he was if a little squished. Launchpad appeared out of the crowd not long after, having no problem moving through the crowd. It may have been because of his height or the fact that some people had recognized him.

Charity smiled, faltering the rest of the line of the song before picking up where she left off, putting more of her heart into the words.

'Cause underneath, I'm broken and it's beautiful

Gizmoduck was able to tranq one more of the sumo men before he ran out of darts. Unable to use any of his other weapons in such a small space, he was down to hand to hand combat, wrestling the last of the three large Beagle Boys.

Scrooge and Mrs. Beakley were taking care of the rest of the gang with the help of Gladstone, who had eventually crawled off the floor where he had been discarded as a hostage. The green-clad half-goose rolled up his sleeves and positioned himself like a boxer as he fought the smallest of the villains. And for one who dressed like a dandy, he didn't have a bad right hook.

All this time, Charity's voice came out smooth and sweet through the speakers, a strange theme song to what looked like a scene from an action movie. In the end, the Beagle Boys littered the floor either unconscious or groaning. The three people who were working inside the recording studio came out of their hiding places and called security. Meanwhile, Mrs. Beakley found several feet of electrical cord and used it to tie up the bodies.

Fenton, breathing hard, felt the sweat slide around between his feathers and the metal suit. It was different than the old suit in which he controlled it with hand and feet gestures, sometimes voice commands. But this new suit required him to move and use his muscles. It was different; it made him feel more like a superhero. It made him feel stronger, not as Gizmoduck, but as Fenton.

Strong enough to let his rival go ahead of him, to have Charity all to himself. He could see it as he stared at the screens. He had several views of the shark tank, the audience, the stage and Charity from the different camera angles. Her eyes were shining brightly as she sang, locked on Drake and Launchpad.

I'm tired
Can I just be tired?
Without piling on all sad and scared and out of time
I'm wild
Can I just be wild?
Without feeling like I'm failing and I'm losing my mind

Even if he couldn't be down there with her, he was going to listen to as much of it as he could. And her voice was beautiful. He had never heard her sing before, but it was better than he imagined. And he could hear her in the words. The song fit her.

From behind, one of the Beagle Boys, a younger brother, slowly stood up, a knife in hand. Keeping one eye on Scrooge and Mrs. Beakley, who was tying up his family, he stalked Gizmoduck with the intent of taking out the most dangerous of his enemies. However, he didn't even come close before a hand grabbed his wrist and wrenched it behind his back, and another hand covered his mouth before he could scream in pain.

"Shhhh, don't ruin the performance," the voice of that dratted goose whispered in his ear. "This tin man may have a heart, but he won't appreciate if you disturb him."

Fenton had been all too aware of the surprise attack. Gizmoduck had informed him of the on-coming knife, but relaxed once he saw Gladstone had taken care of the threat. All he needed to do was just listen.

He closed his eyes.

Can someone just hold me?
Don't fix me, don't try to change a thing
 Can someone just know me?
'Cause underneath, I'm broken and it's beautiful

As she finished the final chorus, Charity set the microphone back on the stand with a shaky hand, leaving part of the song unfinished. She didn't feel like repeating "Broken and it's beautiful" over and over again. Her legs were weak enough as it was. And she didn't think she could make it backstage.

Instead she threw herself off the stage, trusting Launchpad to catch her, which he did. His large arms enclosed around her, and she wished he was wearing his aviator's jacket and not the posh clothes so that she could breathe in the familiar scent of leather that she associated with her friend.

"Let's get her out of here, Launchpad," Drake said over the applause she was getting.

Flashes from cellphones and cameras went off all around them, and Charity felt herself being carried off, not even given a chance to walk. Not long after that, the announcer called out the next singer, and the audience focused away from the lovebird and her entourage.

Launchpad carried Charity back into the lobby of the aquarium where there were only a few people. He set her down next to one of the fish tanks.

"Where did you guys go?" she asked worriedly. "Did something happen?"
"Well, you know that hit that was put out for Gladstone?" Drake said, sitting next to her. "There were a few unsavory types here that wanted to collect on his head."

"Is…is everyone okay?" Charity asked. "Where is Fenton?"

"I'm sure he's fine," Drake said, waving off her worries. "You'd know if he wasn't."

Charity rubbed the knuckles on her right fist where the bruises were just starting to form.

Drake cursed under his breath. Fenton was right. He had no business getting into a fist fight while Charity was under this curse. He gently took Charity's hand, raising it to his beak and kissing her knuckles softly.

Charity's cheeks warmed as the soft feathers of her hand rustled under Drake's breath but she didn't pull away. This was the first time Drake had done anything this forward since she had berated him back at McDuck Manor. And what she said was true: she was tired of fighting against her emotions. In fact, with the adrenaline pumping through her system, she might feel brave enough to do something forward right now, especially as the two of them was dressed as they were, as if they were on a fancy date.

"You were great," Drake said, putting her hand down.

"I was?" Charity asked, pushing away thoughts of dating Drake. "I really did a good job?"

"Well, you might have done better if you sang the Darkwing Duck theme song, but…you were amazing," Drake said with a big smile. "I'm sorry for running off. I hope you didn't freak out about going on stage."

"I threw up," Charity admitted.

"Gross," Launchpad said before getting an elbow in his ribs by his best friend.

At that time, the man who had announced the contest strode up to the trio, his gaze showing that he wanted to talk to them.

"Terrence Terrin. It's a pleasure to meet you, Charity Loveatte. I'm a huge fan of your YouTube videos. Those are some amazing visual effects. I look forward to see what else you have planned," he said with enthusiasm, holding out his hand to shake. "I must say, I did not expect you to show up at my party. My son was the one who let you in, and he made the right call."

"Uh…thank you," Charity said, unguarded. "This has been a wonderful evening. We have enjoyed ourselves."

"And Launchpad. It's a pleasure," Terrence said, gripping the large hand. After that, he turned to Drake, his hand offered but his face turned to uncertainty. "And…I'm afraid you don't look familiar."

Drake frowned before realizing he didn't want to be recognized from the movies.

"He's Dar—" Launchpad began before Charity interrupted.

"He's our director," Charity said much louder than she needed to be. "This is Drake Mallard. He's an actor who has helped us with our theatrical needs."

"Then it's a pleasure to meet you, too. You are an artist," Terrence said, grabbing Drake's hand.

Giving Charity a crooked smile, Drake accepted the praise he didn't deserve. "I do my best, but it's Charity that deserves most of the credit. She's the…writer." His crooked smile turned sly. "She's a fantastic writer."

Charity's smile nearly broke as she wanted to give Drake the evil eye.

"Well, all of you have created something wonderful," Terrence said, giving a sparkling smile to the three as if he understood that something deeper was going on. "Although, I couldn't figure one thing out. Is that really Scrooge McDuck?"

Charity laughed. "Yeah, that's him."

"Really?" Terrence said, chuckling. "How did you get that grumpy miser to be in your films?"
Charity looked to Launchpad and Drake, hoping one of them had an acceptable answer.

"His nephews are helping us," Drake stepped in. "They film everything, made the website, picked the charities and do a bunch of other things. It's kind of a family project for them."

"Fascinating," the terrin said. "I just had to comment on the song that you picked, Charity. It was a good choice for the character you play. It really touched me." And he was sincere, not at all flirtatious.

"Well, my character is based off of my own experiences," Charity said, a half-truth. "I really liked that song because it helped me through some tough times."

"Ah, I understand," Terrence said. "And that particular video, both my wife and I appreciated. We both have been struggling with depression for several years, so it was nice to see a heroine that has both physical and mental struggles. It was nicely portrayed."
His honest and revealing words struck a chord in Charity. Since she found out about the YouTube videos, she had felt violated. She hadn't wanted her life to become entertainment for the Internet, but for the first time, she wondered if her story would actually be inspiration to some people. Were there more people like Terrence and his wife that felt the same way?
"Well, I have to go. The interlude will be ending soon, and I must fulfill my duty as judge," Terrence said, shaking their hands one last time. "Let me know if you want a copy of your song's recording. It would be wonderful if you could work it into your story."

Charity waved goodbye before her shoulders sagged. "Is being famous this exhausting?"

"I don't know," Drake said, putting his arm around her. "In my entire career, I haven't been this famous. The Darkwing Duck movie was supposed to be my big break."

"Well then, you're welcome. You're now a famous director," Charity groaned. "I'm going to hell for all these lies." However, her back straightened and her eyes brightened as she saw a group of ducks heading their way, at the forefront was Fenton.

Drake quickly put his arm down.

"Charity…you…you…," Fenton said, stuttered. He looked flushed and a little sweaty, but he was smiling. "Tienes la voz de un angel," he finished in Spanish.

It took Charity half a minute to work out what he said, and she blushed at his compliment. "Thank you," Charity said. "I don't think I've ever sang that well before."

"And you probably never will," Gladstone said. "You're welcome."

"Are you going to credit your luck to everything?" Goldie asked smartly.

"I don't have to answer that," Gladstone said. "Especially not when the question comes from the person who was absent from my rescue."

"Oh, please," Goldie said, rolling her eyes. "If you have to count on a little old lady to save your butt, you're really in trouble. Besides, Bettina was there to make sure all you boys would be safe."

Mrs. Beakley held up her hand, and Goldie gave her a high five.

"Oh, snap," Charity said with a grin. "Anyway, I'm not going back in that room until they're ready to announce the winners, not that I'm counting on even ranking in the top three. I was great tonight but so were a lot of other people. However, to replace the food that I upchucked for Gladstone, I'm going to go eat if anyone wants to join me."

"Again, gross," Launchpad said but ready for food. "TMI."

"I second to both of what you said," Gladstone said.

The whole group followed, and after eating their fill, they returned to the dolphin room where the string quartet was still playing songs. The dance floor was emptier than before but there were still plenty of dancers who didn't want to watch the karaoke contest.

For an hour, most of the group danced while some watched. Charity had a new partner for each song, even asked by a few strangers who were more gentlemanly than those at the club. Launchpad danced with Mrs. Beakly several times since he was the only one tall enough not to make things awkward, although Drake dared once. A few times, Scrooge and Goldie even went on the dance floor.

"You know, Scroogie," Goldie said as she danced with the elderly billionaire, "if we measured everyone in this room by certain standards, those three young men are a lot richer than you are."

"What? What daft standards are you talking about?" Scrooge muttered, not liking the thought of anyone richer than him.

"Have you forgotten?" Goldie said with a big smile, one finger playing with the feathers on his cheek. "Weren't you the one who said there was no one richer than someone who was loved by a fine woman?"

Scrooge's cheeks reddened. "Aye, I may have said something like that," he admitted.

"You could be rich again, you know," Goldie said.

"I know," Scrooge said, looking away. "I would like that, Goldie. I would. Perhaps if I could trust you."

Goldie's eyes widened before she looked down. "So, you're still mad about that, are you?"
"And you wouldn't?" Scrooge asked, then walked away even before the song ended.

If anyone noticed the frostiness between the two, they didn't say anything.

After a while, the quartet stopped playing and called out to the dancers, "They'll be announcing the winners of the contest in five minutes. Mr. Terrin would like all his guests to return to the lobby."

Suddenly, Charity's stomach clenched as nervousness overcame her. It was just as bad as when she went on stage. Oh crap. Am I going to throw up again? She had told herself that she didn't care if she won or lost, but her stomach said differently.

As they entered the lobby, it was crowded but not so much that walking from one end of the room to the other was difficult. They found space by the prehistoric shark display where they could hear Terrence make his announcement.

After making a few jokes, Terrence held out a paper and read the names of those who won third place. It was twin girls that must have been teenagers. Charity remembered them. They sang a cute duet in what sounded like Korean. After that, second place was announced which was a male bear who had sang an opera piece that had left the audience quiet the entire time.

And as Terrence readied to announce who came in first place, Charity felt as if time wavered, speeding up and slowing down in ripples, and her hearing didn't quite work. She grabbed a hand on her right and one on her left, not knowing who was standing next to her. Suddenly, everyone was clapping and a few turned to look at her.

She saw Gladstone smiling brightly and saying something to her, but she couldn't understand him. He pointed to where Terrence stood, pushing her forward.

"Get the painting," her ears finally picked up and all at once she could hear the thunderous applause and people congratulating her. Feeling as if her feet were made of sludge, she went up to the front where the table of prizes had been moved. It wasn't fair. She didn't deserve to win. It had been Gladstone's luck that had gotten her up there. She didn't want to win. Someone else deserved it.

But it was to save Gladstone's life, and that was enough.

"Well done," Terrence said, shaking her hand one more time. "Pick whatever prize you would like." He spread his arm as if he were a gameshow host.

Charity looked back at her friends in the audience, and she could almost see the hunger in Gladstone's eyes, his desperation to have that painting. She turned to the table, seeing the painting that had been expertly mounted behind glass to keep it preserved. It sat between a large gem on a satin pillow and a hideous oni mask with crystal eyes. The painting was beautiful, showing a woman standing on a cliff overlooking an ocean. There were Japanese words in one corner, perhaps a poem to go with the painting. She understood why someone would want it.

As she reached out for it, she felt something vibrating at her side. It took her a moment to realize it was her phone in her purse. She had kept the accessory slung over her shoulder where it wouldn't bother her, and only at that moment was she reminded of it.

She reached again for the painting, ignoring the phone but it vibrated again. For some unexplained reason, she felt inclined to look at her phone. Taking it out, she found two unread texts, both from the unlisted number.

Take the mask.

Charity frowned at her phone. She did not trust Aphrodite. Why would she want Charity to have the mask?

She reached for the painting and her phone vibrated again, more than likely with the same message.

"Fine," she muttered, knowing she was being pulled around like a puppet. She grabbed the ugly mask.

"Nooooooooooooooo!" Gladstone's voice shouted from the crowd.

(Author's notes: Of course, the lyrics to the song belong to Kelly Clarkson AKA Kelly Larksong, whose name was so easy to change for this fandom.)