Lyrics to Remedy by Seether (2005)
Early on the morning of October 31, Liby Loud sat a duffle bag on the surface of her desk and began to pack, starting with the heaviest equipment first: The HK416, then the grenade launcher, the MP5 submachine gun, and finally the plastic explosives, flashlights, and other miscellaneous stuff. She threw her tactical clothing - black and tight fitting - on top and zipped it up. She did this without turning on the light; Lacy was still curled up on her side asleep, and Liby didn't want to disturb her.
Done, she picked it up and carried it to the door, where she sat it next to the nightstand. She grabbed the other one from the closet, went over to the desk, and did the same, Lacy's gear identical to her own. Before she was done, however, her bowls clutched painfully and she felt like she was going to be sick.
Nerves. In just a few hours she and Lacy were leaving for Costa Rica and there was a very real possibility that one or both of them might not come back. She spent weeks on end telling herself that she could handle it - she was Mystery Girl, and she could take on anything - but deep down she knew that the odds were stacked against her, and as D-Day drew inexorably closer like an approaching buzzsaw, the terrors of death fell upon her, and she metaphorically prayed that this cup be taken from her lips. Like Christ in the Garden of Gethsemane, however, she was cast on her own, left to face the coming day alone, without even her usual confidence to sustain her. She was anxious, paranoid, and scared; in the week since she captured and then released Hector, she began to doubt herself, and when you doubt yourself, you become overcautious. In the beginning, she wanted to spare as many of the partygoers as she could. But now, feeling weak and vulnerable, mere minutes, really, away from the largest operation of her life (and the first of her sister's), she was planning something that would probably kill a large number of them. It would be safer for her and Lacy, though, and that's what mattered. Right?
Only she didn't know. After hers and Lacy's argument, she started to ask herself questions...like was she really the Good Guy? She did sit a man down and torture him, and while she believed it was the right thing to do...God help her...she enjoyed it. And at the end, as she leveled a gun at his head, she felt nothing. Taking a step back in her mind, trying to see it as Lacy must have seen it, she was a little shocked by her own callousness. She was going to end another human being's life when she didn't have to. She could have gone to Lisa first, but she didn't even think to..she went to the most extreme option easily and without qualm.
Friedrich Nietzsche wrote: Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster. And if you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you. For years, Liby had been trafficking with the worst humanity had to offer...the dogs among men...and when you lie down with dogs, you get up with fleas. Somewhere in her battle against evil, she herself had become evil.
That disturbed her.
But sometimes, you need to be evil.
Presently she looked at Lacy; her eyes were closed and her brow pinched, her pale brown hair down and framing her face. She was so achingly beautiful, so angelic...and here she, Liby, was, plotting to bring her into the heart of darkness.
I can't do this on my own.
Was that the truth, though? Or was she making an excuse just to have Lacy with her?
Frowning, she thought long and hard.
No, she decided, she really couldn't do this alone. She might be Mystery Girl, but even Mystery Girl is not infallible or omnipotent. She needed Lacy.
Cramming the last few items into the bag, she carried it to the door and sat it next to hers, then she went out into the hall. In the bathroom, she stripped and got into the shower, but even the hot water couldn't melt the ice in her bones. She needed to get ahold of herself, because if she gave into fear, she and Lacy would die...Liby could stand that for herself...but not for Lacy.
It occurred to her, not for the first time, that it was her Montoya wanted, no one else. If she really loved her family she would let him have her.
And she would...if she was stronger.
She bowed her head under the water and tried to shove those thoughts away. She needed to get it together. For Lacy.
When she was done, she dried off, wrapped the towel around herself, and brushed her hair in front of the mirror; her eyes were pooled with brooding darkness, and she did her best to avoid them. In her room, she dressed in a pair of black pants and a sleeveless white blouse, then sat at the desk and pulled her socks and shoes on. Faint orange light dripped through the window and the sound of birdsong pressed against the pane. She got up, went over to the bed, and knelt next to Lacy; she stared at her sister for a long time, her chest swelling with love. She reached out and brushed a strand of hair from the sleeping girl's face; she couldn't help herself, she wanted, needed to touch her.
Muttering, Lacy stirred, and Liby caressed her cheek with the back of her hand. "I love you," Liby said softly.
The corners of Lacy's mouth turned up in a dream-like smile and her lips trembled as she silently replied. Liby leaned in and kissed her above her right eye, lingering and letting her warm scent fill her nose.
"I love you," she repeated.
"And I'm sorry."
The alarm woke Lemy at 7:45. It was Saturday, Gwen was coming over, and everything was right in the world.
Oh, wait, no it wasn't.
He slapped the OFF button, laid his hand on his chest, and fought to keep his eyelids from shutting again. So...that happened. Yeah. Just when things were starting to really go his way, ol' G-O-Double D throws him a curve ball and it hits him right in the nuts. As Vince Russo would say: SWERVE! Oh, he was swerved alright, so fucking swerved his backbone snapped into a million pieces, so swerved he looked like one of those blow up doll things you see at car dealerships and shit, you know, swaying back and forth. Put your hands in the air like you don't care...tell me what's the word, word up.
I got the cure for that swerveititus: Think about irrelevant shit. Dreamcast, always thinking, can't face the big stuff when you're facing the small shit.
Like...uh...Vince Russo, let's go back to him: He was in wrestling and since I watched that WWE pay-per-view with Lizy last night -
Too close!
- I'll...go ahead and do a wrestling themed show. This guy worked as a writer for the WWE when it was the WWF and didn't WWSuck. Writer. Yeah. Come on, you know that shit's fake. It's...storylines and shit. You don't' think a man can really take steel chairs to the head for twenty years and no wind up looking like Sloth from The Goonies, do you? It's all a work...which means 'pretend, brah.' Russo had some dumbass ideas that somehow slipped through (he was the one who came up with the 'X on a pole' match, I think) but, hey, we all fuck up now and again, amirite? He left WWF at some point and went to the WCW. You know that episode of Spongebob where SB gets his cousin Stanly a job at the Chum Bucket, and two seconds after Stanly walks through the door KA-FUCKING-BOOM!? Yeah, that was WCW when Russo joined. They put him in charge and he fucked everything up. He put the World Heavyweight Championship on himself - this scrawny, pasty fuck probably couldn't even wear it (bro, this thing's heavy, bro); he...I dunno, man, he did a lot of wack ass shit.
One thing he did that was funny though was shoot on Hulk Hogan. In wrestling, a 'shoot' is something that's real and not scripted. Say you and I are wrestling in front of twenty thousand people. You botch a move and hurt my junk, so I really beat your head in. I just shot on your ass. At this PPV, Russo comes swaggering down to the ring, grabs a mic, and goes all Hogan, ya big, bald bitch, ya fired. He had this thick New York accent and sounded like an extra from a Martin Scorsese movie - you know, the weasley guy who gets strangled with piano wire two minutes in and everyone in the audience cheers because he was on their last nerve a minute fifty ago. Hogan wound up suing. See you in court, brotherrrrrrr.
Oh, and can't forget the time this black wrestler named Booker T was doing an interview with Mean Gene. This dude was talking trash and got carried away, said Hulk Hogan, we comin' for you, nigga! LMAO! The funny part was as soon as those words left his mouth, he whipped his head away like oh, shit, I fucked up...I fucked up bad.
Yeah, that was funny...I should probably stop avoiding what happened.
Anyway, there was this dude calling himself The Shockmaster. He wore a fucking Darth Vader mask covered in glitter or some shit. He was making his debut on live TV and had to crash through a wall backstage. Okay, he does...then he fucking trips and his gay hat comes off. You could see the shame in his eyes.
No, you couldn't, but you know he felt it.
Who was it...the blonde dude...he was doing an interview and messed up. He tried to have the interviewer start over, but "We're live, pal." LOL. God, man, that's gotta be embarrassing, you know, the kind of thing you think about right before you fall asleep even years later.
Lemy had some things like that. Everyone does, right?
One thing he'd be thinking about for a long, long time was -
You know, everyone knows wrestling is a con now, but back in the day...uh-uh, they kept that shit top secret. This one wrestler slapped the shit out of John Stossel for saying it was fake, and this other dude was in a plane crash and wrestled a week later with a broken back because I wasn't on that plane, brah, that plane was carrying my 'mortal enemy' Ric Flair, why would I travel with him? Fuck him. Stylin', profilin', limousine riding, jet flying, kiss-stealing, wheelin' n' dealin' HOMO. But nah, they were actually cool irl.
Sighing, Lemy glanced at the clock. 7:50. Gwen said she would be here at eight-thirty. That was forty minutes away. Four. Zero. Not long at all. He sat up and ran his fingers through his hair. His eyes were grainy and ached because he didn't sleep well and his head dully ached. He tried, man, but...it just wasn't happening.
Getting up, he went over to the dresser, pulled out a pair of jeans, and yanked them on, wobbling and nearly falling like his name was The Shockmaster and this was the biggest night of his career. How the hell could that dude wear a glittery fucking mask and not get called gay, but I ride a pink bike and look at him, guys, he's into dudes! Well...Shocky was a lumbering giant and he wasn't, but still. Kind of unfair, don't you think?
Darth Vader mask. Pfft. You know the mask they used in Halloween? It was a Captain Kirk mask they spray painted white. Crazy, huh? Speaking of Kirk, William Shatner, the guy who played him -
Lizy stuck her tongue down my throat last night, okay?
A shiver ran down his spine at the memory. Here's what what happened. Lizy wanted him to watch this PPV with her. Alright, fine, I'm not that into wrestling anymore (what am I, eleven?), but it's okay, and hanging with little sis is always fun.. Fine. Great. The thing started at nine and ended at midnight; by ten, they were alone in the living room and everyone else was...I dunno...doing their own shit. He was sitting with his elbow propped on the armrest and his face in his hand, and Lizy was sitting next to him, literally on the edge of her seat as two dudes kicked each other's asses in a steel cage. Hands balled in her lap, big eyes, the works.
"Look at him!" she said. "He's gushing blood everywhere!"
That's because he bladed, he didn't say. Anyway, long story short, she asked to sit on his lap. Sure, why not? She gets on and leans back against his chest, just sitting there, then she turns her head to him. Naturally, he turned to look at her too...their eyes met...and then she did it, man, she fucking spang forward like a goddamn cobra or something and smooshed her lips against his. He went rigid with shock, and his mouth parted just enough for her to jam her tongue in.
It took a second, but he recovered his senses and pushed her away. "What the hell are you doing?"
"Kissing you," she said. Her eyes were big and doelike, and her brow was angled slightly down in confusion.
"Y-You don't kiss like that," he explained, consciously softening his tone.
"Why not?" she asked. "That's how you kiss someone you love."
Aw. Okay, that was cute, but this was serious. He started to say something, but trailed off. How did he...do this? Lizy was...you know, she grew up watching her sisters playing tonsil hockey with Dad left and right, and she saw him, Lemy, do it more than once with Leia. It was normalized, you know? "Well...that's how grown-ups kiss...and you're not a grown-up."
Lizy's eyes flicked to her lap. "I know," she said glumly, "I wanna be one, though...so we can do grown up stuff."
Lemy's jaw dropped. Sex...was like kissing...normalized, alright? Dad dd things with the others in front of God and everyone sometimes, and 'everyone' included Lizy. Still, her coming outright and saying...that...was pretty fucking unexpected. And pretty unwelcome, too. She looked up at him with those big, loving eyes, and...he didn't have the heart to say I don't want to do grown up stuff with you. So...he said, "Maybe one day. When you're older."
Her face lit up. "Okay!"
And that was that.
Only it wasn't. He laid awake for hours thinking about it. At one point in the past, he wondered to himself if he could ever...God, he couldn't even think the words fuck Lizy -
ARRGH!
- and...he didn't think he could, he just didn't. But apparently she wanted to and...aw, man, it's a fucking mess in the making. She's six, though, and, you know, your tastes and shit change over the years. By the time she got to the point where she felt that need to breed and really came on, she might think dudes with long hair and headbands were gross. He hoped so, because...what if one day she got into him the way he was into Lyra? He was weak, okay, and he couldn't do that to her. If she turned up at his door wanting him, he'd give in, even if maybe he didn't want to. Loving someone who doesn't love you is a misery, bro.
Then again, in this family, love and sex are so entwined that it's hard to tell where sisterly love ends and romantic love begins. When she said someone you love she very well could have meant it strictly in a familial sense, in which case he'd only have to worry about her wanting his dick, which was bad enough but...that he could handle.
He thought.
Presently, he went into the bathroom, took a leak, then went downstairs. Lynn and Luan were sitting at the dining room table, each with a coffee mug in front of them, Luan in a yellow robe and Lynn in jeans and one of those shirts that's white but has colored sleeves - in her case red. She coached a girls' basketball team at the YMCA on Saturdays. It was her way of hanging onto sports, since she couldn't play it professionally.
"Morning, Lem," Luan said, "already having a hard day?"
Well, my six-year-old sister - wait, what? He glanced down, and his dick tented out the front of his pants. He was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't even realize he had a raging case of morning wood. He blushed and covered it with his hands. "T-The denim's bunched up, it's not what it looks like."
Luan crossed her legs, propped her elbow on the table, and rested her chin in her palm. "It's exactly what it looks like," she said, a hungry glint in her eyes. She licked her lips. "Breakfast."
Oh, God, not her too.
Lynn stared at him over her shoulder, her lips scrunched to the side in thought. "What are you, thirteen?" she asked.
"Yeah," he said.
She nodded. "Not bad. Five? Five and a half?"
Huh? Thirt-
Oh, my dick size. Heh.
"Six,"" he said awkwardly, "uh, and then some. I think."
Lynn hummed. "Whip it out."
Lemy blinked. Really? "I, uh, I really can't because - "
"We know," Luan know, "Gwen." She leaned over the table, her hands splaying on the edge and her eyes flashing with lust. "We just wanna see it. That's all." Her smile sharpened, and Lemy was reminded of a shark or something...this was not the first time one of his female relatives put him in mind of a man eating predator, btw. He looked from her to Lynn, who stared at him with a go-on-we're-waiting expression.
No harm in showing them, right? It's not like they were going to pounce him and rape him right here in the dining room.
Right?
"Go on, Lemy," Luan urged.
"Yeah, dude," Lynn said, "we just wanna see how much you've grown."
Matching smirks ran across their lips, and Lemy's dick throbbed hotly. Okay. You wanna see it? Get ready: Here comes The Shockmaster. He reached into his pants, grabbed it, and pulled it out; it jutted over the waistband like a cannon out the window of a galleon. Lynn's eyebrows shot up, and Luan's mouth fell open in a salacious smile. "Oooh," she said and flicked her gaze between his dick and his face, "you are big."
"Guess Lola wasn't lying," Lynn said.
Lemy started to gri - wait, what?
"Lola told you?"
Luan nodded. "Umhm. And she told us that you want to stay loyal to Gwen. Which is really sweet."
"And really hot," Lynn added with a wink.
Luan licked her lips and stared at it, her pupils dilating. Alright, alright, you got your look. He shoved it back into his pants and hurried into the kitchen before they could strike...and yeah, he kinda had the feeling they might.
He didn't realize he wasn't alone until his father spoke. "Hey, Lemy."
Lemy looked up, and Dad was standing at the counter, a carton of eggs, a pack of bacon, and a box of pancake batter arranged around him.
Following their...talk...they had been spending more time together. On Tuesday they saw a movie, on Wednesday they went mini golfing (Lemy was bad but pops was waaaay worse), and yesterday they hung out and smoked weed again. He kind of felt like Dad was forcing it, you know? Like ugh, gotta go spend time with Lemy before he cries like a little girl again. It was nothing Dad did or said, it was just...probably his imagination. All the stuff he felt, you know, the hurt...that doesn't go away overnight, and maybe he was a little too guarded or something. But...you know...and this might be the biggest bitch thing he's ever said...he kind of enjoyed spending time with Dad.
Lemy glanced over his shoulder to make sure Lynn and Luan weren't going to grab him and drag him to their bed, then looked at Dad, whose brow was furrowed in puzzlement. "You alright?"
"Yeah," Lemy said, and crossed to the kitchen table, where he sat, "just...your sisters. They're like sharks or something."
Understanding dawned in Dad's eyes and he laughed. "Yes they are. When I was your age I'd make the mistake of coming out of my room with morning wood and next thing I knew I had nine horny girls dogpiling me in the hallway."
"That's just kinda what I did,' Lemy said.
"And you made it passed Lynn and Luan?" Dad asked, then whistled. "They're the worst ones."
They were? "I dunno, Lola was...you know…"
Dad reached for a pan in the cabinet above the sink. "She told me."
Remember what I said a while back about loose lips sinking ships? Yeah, well, the SS Lemy was sitting on the bottom of the fucking ocean and his face was red with embarrassment; he kinda hoped she wouldn't tell everyone about what happened.
Dad sat a skillet on the stove and grabbed a couple eggs from the carton. "She said that you didn't want to cheat on Gwen." He cracked one and the contents splashed into the pan with a sizzle.
"Yeah," Lemy admitted, "it...it just didn't feel right."
"If you feel that strongly for her, then...it shouldn't." He sat a second skillet on the stove and tossed a few strips of bacon in. Lemy was kind of expecting him to call him a bitch or something. I guess, you know, deep down, it was kind of like trying to live up to your father's standards or something, only in this case instead of playing football or taking over the family business, it was having a harem of your sisters and/or aunts. It made him feel inadequate...even though he really didn't want it. Strange, huh? The more he examined the contents of his heart and mind, the more he realized just how odd and complex he could be...how odd and complex people in general could be.
Presently Dad flipped the bacon with a fork. "She's coming over today, right?"
"Yeah."
"Good. I was hoping we could do something together. You know, just the three of us. I'd like to get to know her a little better."
The first thing that popped into Lemy's head was an image of them having a threesome, Gwen on her hands and knees with Dad behind her, hands on her hips, dick in her pussy. It literally made him sick, like...not because it was Dad but because it was Gwen.
Perhaps sensing this, Dad said, "We can go out to lunch or something. Whatever you guys want."
Oh, Mr. Loud, you're so much bigger and better than Lemy. Fuck me harder.
A hot flush crept across Lemy's face and a band of anger tightened around his chest. He knew he was being irrational - Gwen wouldn't do Dad and Dad wouldn't do Gwen - but he couldn't help it.
"We don't have to," Dad said and flipped the egg. He grabbed another and cracked it, "I know you guys probably wanna be alone and not have me hanging around." He laughed, and Lemy detected a hint of nervousness. Or thought he did. "Just..keep in mind that I'd like to know her since she's your girlfriend and she's important to you." He chuckled. "She might very well be my daughter-in-law one day."
Lemy's hand curled into a fist. We all know what Dad does to his daughters. Which is fine, because they were all single and wanted it, so whatever, but...I'm being weird, okay. "Sure," he said. "That'd be cool."
"Good," Dad said.
And how, pops, and how.
Just don't touch my girl.
Gwen woke early Saturday morning and spent the first two hours of her day sitting up in bed and paging through the scrapbook. It was thicker now, crammed with pictures of her and Lemy that she printed off her computer, and with his poems. She read and reread each one as the sun rose, his words warming her heart and making her smile so wide it literally hurt. There was a time, and very recently too, that she completed this ritual (and it had become a daily one) with a mixture of hope, sadness, and longing. That was when she didn't think it was real. Now, for better or worse, she did think it was real, and the only thing she felt was overwhelming happiness.
A happiness that was shattered when her mother's voice rose sharply in the hall. "Where are you?"
For a terrible moment, Gwen thought she was talking to her, but then she spoke again as if in reply to someone Gwen couldn't hear. "I should have known." Her voice was dripping with venom so bitter it turned the little girl's stomach. "Are you coming back?"
Gwen cocked her head and tried to listen over the crashing over her own heart. Mother laughed evilly. "Monday morning I'm filing for divorce, you fat queer. I'll take everything. Do you hear me? EVERYTHING!"
Divorce? Needling fingers of dread clutched Gwen's heart, and she tried to move but couldn't.
Mother's voice was farther away now, down the hall. She was pacing as she usually did when she was angry. "You're right I can have it all. Enjoy living in a motel with your BOYFRIEND!"
Did...did Winston leave? That's what it sounded like. A strange emotion filled Gwen's chest, part loss and part...relief?
"Well, that's one headache taken care of. Go back to taking it up your ass."
Gwen's stomach twisted as she imagined what the other headache was.
Angry footsteps pounded past the door, and for a terrible, heart-stopping second, she thought her mother was going to come in and yell at her, but the slamming of a door told her that she went into her own room instead. Whew.
She glanced at the book open in her lap, and her eyes fell upon Lemy's face.
Winston left.
Was it because of her? Did she do something wrong again?
She looked at Lemy's face again. The other day he told her: You're beautiful, Gwen, and perfect in every way. She smiled and kissed him, but deep down she doubted. He might see her that way, but she wasn't, and it hurt every single day. But lately, that pain wasn't quite as stinging as it once was. It was dull...because if Lemy thought she was perfect, well...that's all that really mattered. As long as he loved her, no one else had to. Not Winston, not her mother, not even her grandparents.
Still...she wanted to be perfect for Winston and her mother too.
Sometimes, though, no matter how hard you try, some people just don't want you to be perfect. No matter what you did, how hard you worked, how much sleep you lost, and how desperately you wanted to please them, they were never happy.
Maybe...maybe the problem wasn't her.
Maybe the problem was them.
That revelation, like a bright flash of light, made her blink. She looked down at the scrapbook once more, her brow furrowing in concentration. She tried to be perfect for Lemy, and from the look on his face and in his eyes, she succeeded. She tried to be perfect for her mother and Winston but failed. She did everything she could for them, she went out of her way and worried herself sick, yet it was never good enough. She cooked, cleaned, crept through her own home like a frightened shadow to avoid upsetting them, and how did they treat her? Like garbage, like a 'headache.'
Hot anger rose in her like stomach bile.
Fuck them.
Fuck them both.
Snapping the book closed, she jumped up and went to the closet, then to the door, then to her desk in a confused zig-zag pattern, her fists and jaw both clenched. They didn't matter anyway, only Lemy, because Lemy actually loved her and appreciated what she did for him. When she went to his house after school, she'd make him a sandwich or fold his laundry if his hamper was full of clean clothes. He never asked, she just did it because that's the kind of thing you do when you love someone, and he always kissed her and thanked her. No one else did.
Fine. Let Winston leave and let her mother drink herself to death. She'd see. You think mother kept the house? No, it was her, Gwen, the garbage girl, the headache, the failure. Well...no more. Let it all fall down, she was done doing things for people who hated her.
At the closet again, she grabbed a skirt and yanked it angrilly from the hanger, bending the metal. She dressed quickly, her body thrumming with energy. When she left the room, she didn't try to be quiet; she hoped she disturbed mother. Outside, the day was cold and overcast, windswept leaves skipping across the sidewalk with a dry scritch-scritch-scritch. Harvest and Halloween decorations fluttered in the breeze, and the warm smell of wood smoke drifted from a fire somewhere.
Gwen was dead to it all. Years of repressed anger coursed through her veins like battery acid.
Throw your dollar bills and leave your thrills all here with me
And speak but don't pretend I won't defend you anymore you see
It aches in every bone, I'll die alone, but not for you
She wanted so bad to be a good daughter but they WOULDN'T FUCKING LET HER. She tried everything EVERYTHING and they both hated her regardless.
Sneering, she lashed out and kicked a rock out of her way.
My eyes don't need to see that ugly thing, I know it's me you fear
If you want me hold me back
How many nights did she spend lying awake CRYING because she wanted to be good so fucking BAD and KNOWING she couldn't? How many mornings did she walk to school, sick with nerves trying to pick out what she did to make Winston mad that day? Too many. TOO FUCKING MANY.
I don't need a friend, I need to mend so far away
So come sit by the fire and play a while, but you can't stay too long
It aches in every bone, I'll die alone, but not for pleasure
I see my heart explode, it's been eroded by the weather here
If you want me hold me back
She was shaking with barely contained wrath. She punched the air, realizing vaguely that an old woman walking her dog was looking at her strangely but not caring. The problem wasn't her, the problem was them. Winston was unhappy because of mother and mother was a fucking alcoholic who could barely drag herself out of bed most days. She laid there like a fucking cancerous growth and sucked Vodka from a bottle like a big, drunken, overgrown baby. Oh, Gwen did THIS wrong and THAT wrong. What did she do? Nothing! That's what! NOTHING!
Frail, the skin is dry and pale, the pain will never fail
And so we go back to the remedy
Clip the wings that get you high, just leave them where they lie
And tell yourself, "You'll be the death of me"
Tears fell down her cheeks like cleansing rain. Her chest ached with hatred and disgust, but no longer sadness or longing. She didn't need Winston or her mother. She didn't need their love or approval. She didn't even need her deadbeat piece of shit "FATHER". She had Lemy now.
Sniffing, she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. She was a block away from Franklin now, and couldn't remember how she got here. It didn't feel like she'd been walking that long, but times flies when you're consumed and raging. Her mother didn't love her and her father didn't love her, or else he would be here. Well...she didn't love them anymore either. The could both die.
At the intersection she paused and waited for an orange and white U-Haul to pass. A gust of wind caught her hair and blew it into her face. She tucked it behind her ear and crossed, reaching the other side and starting down Franklin. Foam headstones dotted front lawns while plastic skeletons and fake spider webs stirred in trees. She had her costume ready for tonight at home; she and Lemy were going to a haunted house set up at the fire station on Redwood. He was dressing as 'the dude from Poison' and she was...a surprise.
A warm smile touched her face, and the rage that had carried her here departed like a swift wind. Her step lightened and her face unclenched. By the time she knocked on the front door of 1216 five minutes later, that morning, and everything that went into it, was a distant memory. She was happy now, and that's all that mattered.
Muffled footsteps approached from inside, and the door opened. Gwen smiled brightly...then her face fell just a tick. She was expecting Lemy, but got Lupa instead. The white haired girl crossed one arm over her chest and cupped the opposite elbow in her palm. Plucking the cigarette from between her thin lips, he held it between the fore and middle finger of her right hand. Something about her had always intimidated Gwen. All of Lemy's sisters did that to him (they were her boyfriend's family, after all), but that went double for this one.
Brows lifted slightly, Lupa stared down her nose as though Gwen were something repulsive and not entirely welcome. Gwen felt the urge to squirm but held it in check; it was kind of important to make a good impression and acting like a scared little girl probably wouldn't help.
Lupa took a drag and blew out a pencil line plume of bluish smoke. "Back again," she said.
Gwen nodded, fighting hard to meet the older girl in the eyes but failing. "Y-Yeah. I'm back."
"Hm. You really like Lemy, don't you?"
Well...duh. Didn't she see them cuddling on the couch every single afternoon? You don't cuddle with someone you don't like. Or maybe some people do. Who knows? The world is a strange place and human beings are strange creatures. Was she...testing her somehow? "Yes," she said, "I like Lemy a lot."
Nodding, Lupa took another hit and blew it out. "Good. I like him too. Not like you like him, but he's a cool guy and he really likes you, so...don't fuck him over."
Gwen blinked. Fuck him over? Like...break his heart? No! God, she'd rather jump in front of a bus then hurt Lemy. Lemy meant the world to her...he was her world. He was the only thing in her life that mattered. She couldn't hurt him any more than she could hurt herself.
Lupa watched her with expectant eyes.
"I would never hurt him," Gwen vowed.
For a moment Lupa simply stared at her, then stepped aside. "Alright. Come in. He's helping Dad with breakfast."
Gwen hesitated, then went through the door, the smell of bacon and eggs drifting to her nose and making her stomach rumble. Guess I'm hungry. Loan was on the couch like always, playing a video game and looking like she hadn't been to bed yet. Liena was sitting between her and Lyra, and as Gwen passed by, they both looked up at her. "Hi, Lemy's girlfriend," Liena said. She was apparently the Boss Sibling (kind of like an overseer on a plantation, Gwen thought), but she was really bad with forgetting things...like names.
"Hi," Gwen said awkwardly.
"Hey, how's it going?" Lyra asked, her tone just as friendly as her sister's.
In the beginning, she envied Lyra so much it made her literally sick; Lemy loved her, and seeing her have something so precious, something she herself ached to have, made her hate her guts. The worst part? Lyra had this beautiful gift...and she didn't even want it. The first analogy that came to Gwen's mind two Saturdays ago, after the day at the mall, was starving to death while watching someone else have food...and throwing it away. If only he'd love me instead, she thought with such sharp longing she cried, I'd love him back the way he deserves to be loved. She still didn't particularly...like (?) her, but Lemy loved her now and that's all that mattered.
Did he still love Lyra too?
She didn't know, and part of her didn't want to know.
If he was...she didn't mind sharing. Well...maybe a little, but she would.
"Good," she forced, "you?"
"Pretty good," Lyra nodded, "pretty good."
"Good."
Before Lyra could say anything else, Gwen went into the dining room, where Luan, Lynn, and Luna sat at the table, Luna at the head and one sister on either side. They glanced at her, and she felt a rush of nerves. Luna intimidated her much like Lupa did: Luna was Lemy's mother after all, and if you're not a little on edge around your boyfriend's mom (at least early on), do you really like him? Do you really?
Luna glanced up, and a sly smile crossed her lips. Lynn and Luan turned their heads, and both women's brows raised slightly.
"Lemy," Luna called in a singsong voice.
"Yeah, Mom?" he replied from the kitchen, and the sound of his voice made Gwen's heart jolt.
"Come here."
A moment later, he emerged from the kitchen, his eyes directed at his mother. Luna nodded toward Gwen, and Lemy turned, his face lighting up. Gwen smiled. "Hey, Freak," she said.
"Hey," he replied happily as he came over. He put his arms around her and they kissed chastely, their lips touching and the tips of their noses brushing. Gwen felt like she was going to melt, but kept herself together; she didn't want to wind up a stain on the dining room carpet cursed to forever be trod upon by Louds.
He drew back and she took his hands. "I'm early, I think," she said, "sorry."
"I'm not," he said, and Gwen giggled. "Breakfast will be done in, like, five minutes. I just gotta finish the toast."
"Okay," she said.
While he went to do that, she sat at the table, purposely leaving a space between her and Lynn. She was aware of all three women looking at her, and tried hard to keep her gaze straight.
"What do you do for fun?" Luna asked.
The question caught her of guard. "I draw sometimes," she said and stole a glance at the woman. She wracked her brain for something else, but couldn't come up with anything. Before Lemy, the only thing she did outside of school was either hanging out with Leia and Marsha or sitting in her room wishing she was a better daughter. "That's pretty much it, I guess. I'm boring."
Luna shrugged. "Nothing wrong with that. Luan's pretty boring too and she does okay."
Lynn snickered and Luan shot her older sister a dirty look. "I'm not boring," she said.
"Yes you are," Lynn said. "And your jokes suck."
"Like your coaching?" Luan shot back.
Gwen's heart started to race. They were going to argue, just like Winston and mother, and she was going to be caught in the middle.
"Like you on your knees begging for a spot at the comedy club. Please, Mr. Johnson, gag, I won't bomb this time, slurp, I swear., guzzle."
Luna laughed so hard she hitched, and Luan's face turned bright red. Gwen's stomach twisted, and every fight her parents had ever had came back to her in a rush.
"At least I didn't peak in high school," Luan retorted.
Lynn started to reply, but Luna cut her off. "You're both losers." She looked at Gwen. "Do you have any brothers or sisters?"
Gwen shook her head. "No." She didn't know, honestly, because maybe her Dad had other kids, but even if so, they didn't count. "Just me.'
"You're lucky," Luna said, "sisters are a pain in the ass."
Lynn blew a raspberry. "Yeah, especially when they play their guitar all the time."
"Poorly," Luan added.
"And ruin everyone's first concert"
"And talk in an annoying British accent," Luan said. She crossed her eyes. "Pip, pip cheerio, love, I'm so into England I fucked a fat guy name Chunk just because he was British."
Gwen's eyes darted between Luna and Luan. "I didn't fuck him because he was British," Luna laughed, "I fucked him because I was drunk and horny and Lincoln was fucking Lori. Who else was I gonna fuck? Dad?"
"Lynn fucked Dad," Luan said.
"Once," Lynn said. "He blew his load after ten seconds and cried for half an hour because I'm a pervert wah-wah-wah."
"He did the same thing to Leni," Luna said, "only with her he came as soon as she touched it. He curled up on the floor and cried like a woman. I'm sorry, I can't control myself!"
All three laughed uproariously.
Later, everyone gathered at the table; there weren't enough chairs for Gwen to have her own, but that was okay with her, she was more than happy to sit in Lemy's lap, his arm around her waist and hers around his shoulders. She didn't feed him this time, which she didn't mind, because she was pretty hungry and didn't want to have to alternate bites.
"So," Loan said at one point, her eyes narrowed over her fork, "do you live here now?"
Gwen's stomach lurched - what did I do to make her mad?
"So what if she does," Lemy said.
Loan started to reply, but her father cut her off. "So, Gwen, what do your parents do for work?" He forked a piece of egg into his mouth and stared in her direction but not at her. As far as she could remember, this was the first time he had ever spoken to her. Like Lyra, she didn't like him in the beginning because he and Lemy didn't really get along, but Lemy said they had a talk and were working on their relationship, so she really didn't have a reason to not like him anymore, she supposed. Though to be honest he kind of gave her the creeps.
"My stepfather is the CFO for Intelliprise," she said, "and my m-mother doesn't work."
Lincoln hummed appreciatively. "He must make good money."
"Yeah, I guess," Gwen said and carved off a piece of egg with her fork.
Across the table, Loan sneered. "Little Miss Rich Bitch."
Gwen's hand froze and her heart crashed wildly.
Lincoln turned to Loan, a stern expression on his face. "Knock it off." He looked at Gwen. "Ignore her, she gets nervous around people she doesn't know, and when she gets nervous, she gets mean. And when she gets mean, her video games get taken away."
Loan stared down at her plate like a scolded dog, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Inexplicable tears filled Gwen's eyes and she glanced down at her own breakfast. No, that wasn't it; she just didn't like her. Most people didn't. "M-Maybe I should go."
"No, no," Lincoln said quickly. "Really, it's fine."
Lemy hugged her close.
"If anyone's going it should be Loan," Leia said, "because at least you don't smell like armpits and dirty feet."
Loan growled and stabbed a piece of egg with her fork.
"Don't go," Lemy said and stroked her back, "really, she doesn't mean it. She's just fucked up in her head."
Loan whipped her head up, her eyes burning with furry. "You're fucked up," she said, then turned to Leia, "you're fucked up." Liena. "You're fucked up." Luan. "You're fucked up." Lyra. "And you...you're fucked up too."
Lincoln pursed his lips. "Loan, go to your room."
"My room is fucked up."
Lincoln shot her a withering glance. For a moment they stared at each other, then Loan got up and left the dining room, her fists clenched and her shoulders tensed. When she was gone, Luna snorted. "I think she forgot her meds."
"I do too," Lincoln said with a sigh.
Whether Loan forgot her meds or not, Gwen was suddenly not hungry anymore. Lemy wrapped both of his arms around her and kissed her back. "You okay?"
"Yeah," she said quickly, even though she wasn't, "are you almost done? I need to cuddle."
"Let's go," he said and got to his feet. Gwen felt everyone watching her as they left the room, but she didn't care, and once she was nestled in his arms, everything was right in the world again.