Disclaimer: I don't own Newsies, Empress of the World, and/or and other Media references I may make.
((My deepest apologies to you for updating so slowly. I would like to blame it on exams (which are in two weeks!) but I haven't even started studying yet. So, I just have to say sorry and hope you forgive me! Enjoy…))
Emperor of the World
July 31st, Specs' and My Room, 9:00 am
In the morning the sun pours through the window. My sketchbook is resting on the ledge, swathed in sunlight. Specs is rolling over in bed still in his clothes from the night before.
He sees me. "Morning," he says.
"Morning."
He pulls himself out of bed and shuffles his feet as he enters the bathroom. I reach over to the windowsill and grasp for my sketchbook. I pull the pencil out of the spine and flip the pages open. I begin in the corner, keeping the sketch controlled and dark. So far it is just a space of charcoal pencil. I expand, leaving space for the stars. Every star in the sky. Just as I saw it last night, lying with my back against the cool grass, Skittery's hand clasped in mine.
Specs comes back into the room. He throws a face towel at me. "Get out of bed Michelangelo!" He grins and pulls a hat on his head.
Specs tugs at something under his bed and then, with a great heave he yanks his duffle bag out. He opens the drawers to his dresser and dumps his clothes into the bag.
I go to the bathroom and brush my teeth for a very long time. Whatever I can do to postpone packing my bag.
July 31st, Prucher Hall Auditorium, 12:00 pm
It's noon and in two hours we'll be on buses heading home or our parents will have picked us up. Medda, Jack, Isabel, Racetrack and Skittery have all given me their emails. Just like the beginning of camp, the auditorium is full. This time, however, there is a cheerful buzz about the room.
Medda has uncovered a ratty jean miniskirt, which has multiple patches and permanent markered drawings all over it. She has a plain black t-shirt on over it and neon-green leggings on. Her boots are brown and worn-through looking. I don't think I've ever seen Medda wearing the same thing twice. Jack's camera is hanging around his neck on its usual navy blue strap. His jeans have a huge hole in the knee and his shirt is pale green and old looking. Racetrack is wearing a pair of black pants with a purple vest. A very deep, royal purple over a plain white, slightly stained t-shirt. Isabel has on a dark pair of jeans and a fitted pink dress. She's carrying a slouchy white leather bag, which I'm sure she got from Medda. Specs is wearing beige corduroy pants, a burgundy graphic tee and his old bowler hat, which has finally surfaced on the last day of camp. Medda oohs and ahs over it for a few seconds. Skittery has on the same distressed jeans he had on the first day of camp. His shirt is jade green, pulling his eyes out on his face so that I stare at them…
And me. I'm wearing my old, tattered khaki cargo shorts and a striped white and yellow rugby shirt. I don't even play rugby.
Jade is across the room, sitting with a tall Asian boy who is wearing a lot of army print.
None of us are talking much. Skittery's leg is moving up and down nervously.
Professor Denton stands at the podium and presents a little goodbye speech, then he dismisses us to say goodbye to our friends and get our stuff to our vehicles. After everyone files out, we're still sitting in the forty-third row.
Medda looks sad. She pulls a cigarette out from behind her ear and lights it. "I'm going to miss you guys so much!" she exclaims.
Isabel nods and they hug. When they surface, Medda turns to Jack. "And you," she says, jabbing him in the chest. "Have to call me regularly! You hear? Plus, I'm thinking of taking you up on that offer to buy me Nicotine patches."
Racetrack's phone rings and he fishes it out of his pocket and turns away. Jack and Medda are exchanging addresses and Specs is talking to Isabel.
"Hey, Specs," says Race, turning back around. "Do you think you could give me a lift home? I live out in Queens, so if it's not a problem—"
"Of course it's not," Specs tells him, as if he's being ridiculous.
Skittery stands up and stretches. "I'm going to go load my stuff into my car, anyone want to come."
Everyone looks at me. I blush. Hopefully Skittery doesn't notice.
"Yeah," I say, "I'll come."
July 31st, Skittery's Room, 12:45 pm
I am sitting on Skittery's bed, waiting for him while he is in the bathroom packing his toothbrush.
Don't get carried away. His roommate, Snitch, is in the room too.
Snitch is bent over his bed, tucking the sheets under he mattress carefully. Skittery takes a navy blue baseball hat off his desk and places it over his curls. He looks so…boy next-door. And I really, really shouldn't think that.
"Nice hat," I say, my heart beating rapidly, but out of the corner of my eye I can see Snitch making his bed, guaranteeing perfect behaviour on my behalf.
"Thanks," says Skittery. "I totally forgot about it. My mom gave it to me before I left."
Snitch smoothes the covers on the bedspread and, satisfied with the bed's appearance, he steps back and throws a bag over his shoulder.
"See you around," he calls to Skittery. He swings the door shut behind him.
My heart begins to beat so violently that I fear it will jump out of my throat.
"Listen, Dutchy," Skittery says softly, slightly awkwardly. "I've had a great summer, and I kind of have to thank you for that. Without you…" his voice cracks and my heart beats.
Thump, thump. "Without you…" Thump, thump…
He looks at me, eyes sad and pleading. "Without…"
He moves forward, his breathing joining in with the sound of my heart's beats.
His lips come closer. They are peach coloured and smooth.
I close my eyes.
Ecstasy.
July 31st, Seigel's Parking Lot, 2:00 pm
Specs' multi-coloured car is sitting in the parking lot, engine running. Racetrack finished piling his bags in the trunk. Skittery, Isabel, Jack and Medda stand beside the car, smiling.
"See you guys soon! Keep in touch!" demands Medda.
We pull out of the parking lot, waving to our friends behind us. Specs fiddles around with the radio.
"Hey, Dutchy, do you have any CDs?" he asks after a minute.
I pull one out of my CDs from my case…
Music… "Though I was smart though I was right, I thought it better not to fight, I though there was a virtue in always being cool…"
Of course. The Flaming Lips.
I flip my sketchbook open to the page that is filled with emails and phone numbers. Beside Skittery's, in his scrawl, he has written: Remember Emperor of the World?
I smile and close the book.
"So it came time to fight, I thought that I'd just step aside until the time would prove you wrong and you…would be the fool…"
End
((Yes, the wonderful slashiness of Emperor is over. I hope it was a good, non-rushed ending! Please review and give me your thoughts! Will Skittery and Dutchy keep in touch? What about Medda and Jack? Was there really anything going on between Specs and Isabel, I mean, how couldn't there be? Isn't Spot just even the slightest bit mad that Race was away all summer? Wouldn't you be if Race was yours and he just left you for the entire summer? Yeah, exactly!))
Shoutouts:
Two-Bits—Oh! I really didn't mean t make it a cliffhanger just to upset you! I'm so not against you! See! They got back together-ish! Isn't that a good thing?
Erin Go Bragh—yeah, I really love the cliff-hangers! Everyone hates me for them! It keeps people reading though, doesn't it? Admit it, if you read this chapter it's because you really want to know what's going to happen, am I right?
Charlie!Muse: yeah. Whatever. You always thing you're right.
Me: Well, you always think you're right too, so you're just as bad!
Charlie!Muse: No, because I actually am always right.
Me: Are not!
Charlie!Muse: Are too!
(It continues)
Jacky Higgins—And you're right, it was coming to an end and now that end has been reached. It's kind of sad, but good because I finally got this off my plate! It's been in the works forever and it's only fifteen chapters long. Wow, impressive.
Madison Square—Can you imagine Dutchy as butch? I can't. However, I always picture him without glasses, if that makes any sense.
Charlie!Muse: It doesn't.
Me: Shut up.
Charlie!Muse: whatever.
Nakaia Aiden-Sun—Look! It's a bird! It's a plane! It's….Buttons' update? Wha…? Well, it's about time I update I suppose.
Peter!Muse: sorry, we've been keeping her busy.
All Others: Yeah!
Me: I'm going insane!
Iambic Pentameter—I have this disease that involves writing unfortunately short chapters. This one is a nice, comfortable length, however. That's because it's the last chapter though. ANYways, I hope you liked it!