A Very Obsessed Fangirl: Revolutions are nice. Dexter Diznee is in the room where it happens people. I try so hard not to be Hamiltrash but people can't go around talking about revolutions and not expect me to quote it. "The Fedex" put into translate comes into El Fedex. GOOGLE HAS SPOKEN.

Okay. This is a fic about social change first and romance second, so there will be no fluff until chapter four AT LEAST. I'm sorry.

We all decided to close early on Saturday. I am just waiving the fee of some hair dye from a lady who owns the bakery next door when Sophie Foster walks in. She's carrying several wooden signs painted over in big bold letters. Across the front of the first sign is written "YOU'RE NO BETTER," in navy blue. Across the bottom, she painted little golden coins in large piles. The other sports the words "WE'RE ALL THE SAME" In a blood red. Sophie obviously picked up the sign before it was dry so the red is slightly drippy. It looks like a bloodbath. I immediately grab at it,

"I want this one," I pull the horror movie of a sign closer to me.

"Yeah, I thought so," Sophie sighs, as the baker lady leaves the store, looking at me slightly warily. Sophie grins at me, her smile glinting sharply in the light of the store.

I wonder how I ever thought I loved her.

She's pretty, yes, but looking at her doesn't entrap me. Her laugh doesn't suck me into heaven, her smile doesn't make me want to claw my way out of hell. The thought of her doesn't swallow me whole as I lie awake at night when my insomnia refuses to let me close my eyes, and that is what Keefe told me love is supposed to feel like. Keefe is a good consultant when it comes to feelings. Empath and all, y'know? He gave me the best advice I've ever gotten. It was a few days after Sophie and I kissed.

"Dex," he had said, "Do you love her, really? I don't think you do. You said there was no spark, but if you loved her there would have been. If you really love someone no matter how much they don't like you back there's a spark. Every time you glance at her there should be a spark, every time you make eye contact you should feel fireworks. The flame of your love sits inside of you like a roaring fire, and her voice should feel like the campfire song. Do you love her, really? Or is convincing yourself you do the way your brain fed you denial? Do you really love her, or are you just gay?"

I mean, he made me cry, and It's not really advice, but I decided to read it as such. I think he just likes Sophie. Oh right. Sophie. She's waving her hand in front of my face, looking slightly concerned.

"Sorry, I was spacing out,"

"Evidently. Ready to go?" I nod. I go to the door, digging around in my pockets for the keys to the shop. I have to pull out several bits of wire, a couple of switches, and a miny wrench before I find the key. Everybody else calls it my pocket trash, but I call it my pocket treasure. I switch the lights out and turn the sign in the window to say we're closed. Ushering Sophie out of the door I lock it shut.

And then we start running. The streets are busy, but the people in them seem to part for the leader of Team Valiant and one of its members. Though, in this district, it is more likely that they are parting for the son of one of the better apothecaries and his cousin. We hold the signs overhead as we run towards the fountain in the middle of the shopping district. A couple of shop owners lean out of their windows and doors to whoop at us. Sophie is screaming, "You're no better!" at the top of her lungs. I run behind her, letting my jarring sign speak for itself. We reach the fountain. Every time I look at it, it makes me cringe. It's a depiction of one of Fitz's oldest Vacker relatives, before his ears got pointy, giving a shopkeeper the first key to the first building in the shopping district. Grady and Edaline are standing with wooden signs like Sophie's, little animals looking angry painted on them. My parents are both holding signs made of cardboard. Painted in the top corner of both their signs is a large vial, tipped over, pouring out the words "You made the money system, and now you'll pay". My siblings don't hold signs, but they painted lusters onto their faces, and are now screaming at the top of their lungs. The other apothecary owning families and the Heks along with other assorted animal trainers stand with other cleverly titled signs circling the fountain. Sophie and I join the rotation. My father starts a chant.

"And now you'll pay!" it's slow to catch within the group at first. And then slowly, one by one, we join my father in his war cry.

"And now you'll pay!" There are some richer looking elves standing around, looking at us warily, but we don't care.

"And now you'll pay!" And that's when I notice the baker lady from earlier coming out of her store, locking the door, and then coming to stand with us. She joins in with our screams, pumping her fists above her heads. Slowly, a couple of people at a time come out of their stores, pushing the wealthy elves out in front of them, and locking their doors behind them.

"And now you'll pay!" The last of the shopkeepers usher the last of the people out of their stores as they come and join us. The street is busy now. There are several rings of people circling around the fountain now, and about half as many better off's watching us unfavorably. Sophie and I are still in the middle ring, closest to the fountain. I grab her hand and pull her to stand on the thin rim of the fountain, holding the sign above my head. The crowd quiets at the sight of me.

"For too long, we've been silenced!" I scream, the crowd cheers. My eyes catch with the people watching, I take a second to hold the eyes of a woman with aqua eyes. "We've done your bidding, we've let you sweep us under the rug until you found us useful! We're not dust bunnies, we're elves too!" I hold up Sophie's hand above us in one hand, and my sign in the other. "For too long you've held us in your hands like little pets that make you potions and cakes! And now you'll pay!"

"And Now You'll Pay!" My people scream to their people.

And now they'll pay.