MW: Quickest update for this story yet. Give everyone here at BFTLandMWandSEK a round of applause. It's summer, and I was in the mood for writing. Especially if it's writing this wonderful chapter. It's short (18 pages!), but a lot of stuff happens.

So let's go and appreciate the people who reviewed this chapter. Give it up for FrostyTheBookLover, DeadlyShadows-KuroOni, Hammsters, MastermindKakashi, and Lyasa. (I always find it funny how the minute summer hits review count just plummets. Oh well, you guys have a life and I don't). Onwards with the chapter.

Chapter Summary: Investigating closed schools that could possibly be hunted? Sounds like an anime episode! Or HetaOni. Whatever floats your boat.

Warnings: Coarse language, violence, blood.

Disclaimer: I still own absolutely nothing but the OCs.

~Chapter 5~

Kiss Me Like I'm Gay

"Sometimes life has a cruel sense of humor, giving you the thing you always wanted at the worst time possible."
―Lisa Kleypas,American Novelist

The Fangirl: December 28th

I leaned into my little corner of the car, glad that Ari was the shield between me and the Turk who refused to talk to me. Sadiq has not met my stare since he stormed out of the cafe yesterday. It seemed like being in the same room as me made his lungs forget how to breathe. Overly dramatic bastard. He and I went through the exact same hell. I would trust him with my life, yet he thought I was going to stab him in the back.

I laid my forehead against the car's window, letting the vibrations rumble through my brain. Countless trees zoomed past us in a white and green rainbow. The icy road was at an incline, taking us up a winding mountain. France and England insisted that the high school was close by.

We've been driving for the past hour and a half.

A tense breath blew out from my nose as I glanced at each member of our team.

England was driving, his eyes cool and calculating as he moved the steering wheel with grace. At least, until he realized that he was "in the colonies" and would swerve the car back onto the right side of the road. Then the car would take ten minutes to drift back into the left lane and the process would repeat itself. His little show annoyed everyone but the Frenchman riding shotgun, but he was not one to talk. The minute our trip started, France pulled out two dollar romance novel with a sexualized Scotsman on the cover and had not put it down since. From the faces he made while reading, I could only presume that he found the entire narrative hilarious.

Ari's past time was a little more constructive. He was forced to mediate between Sadiq and I, hushing his pops when the Turk muttered insults beneath his breath and blocking the leg I would lash out in response. He had been dealing with our little war since last night and the car ride was only making his temper worse. About twenty minutes ago, Ari finally reached into his backpack and tossed Sadiq a sewing kit. "Do something useful with your time," he had ordered.

Since then Sadiq had been intently embroidering a piece of cloth with an adorable little smile on his face. Apparently embroidering was better than facing reality and admitting that I did not make a contract.

I pulled my feet onto the gray car seat, hugging my knees to my chest.

Or, at least I didn't think I did. A small part of my mind was nagging at me, telling me that I was forgetting something. I didn't know what. I remembered lying on the living room couch before my memory blanked out. I first figured that I must have fallen asleep, but now I was not so sure. Maybe someone did hit my breaking point. Maybe I did make a contract. But Himaruya offered me a contract all those years ago and I turned it down. I swore that I could never go on his side. So what could have made me change my mind? Knowing Himaruya (whatever body he was in now), it would have been a dirty trick.

I shifted, feeling a sudden weight in my coat pocket. I tried to ignore it. I played with my nails and counted the trees outside the window, but each distraction only made it heavier. I felt like I was about to scream when I finally gave up and pulled it out.

The pocket watch was cold in my hands, chilling even the blood in my veins. I shivered, turning it around in my hands. I was as smooth to the touch as I remembered it. It felt as important as I remembered it. I clicked it open. The white clock face greeted me with all its brilliance. Each number was an intricately designed Roman numeral, which was circled by two equally complicated clock hands. The electric clock on the dashboard told me that the time was the same. I ran my fingers down the face, feeling a little bit calmer. Is this why Sadiq used to always look at his? For the split second of calmness it had to offer?

My fingers slipped off the clock. I small black line peeked out from the minute hand, one just barely noticeable to the human eye. Scrunching my brows together, I held the watch closer to my eyes. It was an extra clock hand. It lacked the designs of the other two. Instead, it was nothing more than a slim black line. It pointed to a spot just shy of the Roman numeral for two. Sadiq's watch also had a hand like this, except his indicated the number of cycles that were left.

Here's a scary thought: I had no idea what mine indicated.

There were no cycles here. It could mean anything and by the sinking feeling in my gut, I knew that it couldn't have been anything good.

"We're here."

I pulled my eyes away from my watch as I clicked it shut. The road was starting to even out as it extended to a familiar wrought iron gate. France had to hop out of the car to unlock it before we could drive on. A thick fence of trees lined each side of the road, the impenetrable canopy dropping over the road. The trees ended as suddenly as they started. A white expanse stretched over what would normally be a grass lawn, surrounded the castle-like building I knew to be the school. I pressed my nose against the window as I took in the sight. Everything from the brown bricks to the looming bell tower was how I remembered it.

And how my dreams remembered it.

I gulped and leaned back into my seat.

England drove us to the front steps of the school before turning off the engine and unlocking the doors. France and I pulled our doors opened and tumbled into the snow. "Freedom!" I cried, landing face first into the ice. Water seeped through my jacket and pants, making me immediately regret my decision. I swore, shooting back to my feet as I brushed off the snow.

Sadiq laughed hoarsely as he leaned his arms on the top of the car. "Really didn't think that one through, jackass," he said. His voice was light hearted enough, but the nickname was enough to know that he was still mad at me.

"Would it kill you to be a little nicer to me?" I snapped back.

"Maybe." My glare wiped the smirk from his face. "Okay, fine. Sorry. Is that better?"

I rolled my eyes, noticing that Ari was standing by France and England, admiring the school's exterior. I held my nose up to Sadiq. "Somewhat. You don't sound all that sincere."

He strained a grin. "Maybe a present will make it better," he said. "Catch." He tossed me the piece of cloth he had been working on earlier. "I made it just for you."

That was nice of him. I unraveled the white cloth, revealing a fine square of embroidered flowers surrounding a pink cursive word: jackass. I clenched it in my hands, feeling the anger pop beneath my skin. I sent him my deadliest glare. "Fuck off, dick-"

France laughed and clapped his hands. "Let's get started!" he announced, unaware of the reason why Sadiq and I looked ready to kill each other. His eyes shifted between us before all of his mirth dropped from his face. "Really? Can't you two just kiss and make up already?"

"Like I would ever..." was all Sadiq would say before he crossed behind the car and started up the steps of the school.

I wanted to scream. But you would ever! You kissed me before I returned to my world. You pretended to kiss me on top of the bell tower. I kissed your double in order to save you. Why are you pretending that all that never happened? Why couldn't you just believe me?

I knew that France, England, and Ari were staring at me, waiting to see what I would do. I swallowed my frustration. Sadiq was about as stubborn as I was. If he wanted to be mad at me, he was going to do so with all of his relentless might. Screaming would get me nowhere.

I still couldn't help but to imagine how good it would feel to sock him in the face.

With a pissed-off mutter, I buried my hands in my pockets and stormed towards the steps. "Let's just get this over..." I stopped at the base of the stairs. My feet planted themselves into the ground, refusing to move. I ordered them to budge, summoned all of my will power to propel myself up the stairs, but none came. I gulped and looked up at the school. It was the same school as before. I should not be half as afraid of it as I was.

Yet I could not get myself to move.

I heard Ari step towards me. "Sherry, is something wrong?"

Was something wrong? I couldn't tell. I knew that I could move if I wanted to, just not in the direction of the school.

From the top step, Sadiq noticed my distress. Concern flashed over his face for a split second before it was replaced with a cocky visage. "What are you doing down there?" he called out. "Get your ass moving!"

I couldn't reply. My mouth was dry. I could only shake my head. I did not want to go in there. Not again.

France read my mind. He started towards me, saying, "Maybe you should wait in the car."

"I wouldn't recommend that," England replied, the disproval plain in his tone. "If Himaruya were to catch her alone—"

"You're being stupid," Sadiq groaned, marching back down the stairs. I started to step back as he drew closer. Ari placed a hand on my shoulder, one that Sadiq ripped away when he reached me. With a disgruntled mumble, he hoisted me over his shoulder and carried me towards the school.

I snapped out of my haze. "Put me down!" I yelled, pounding my fists on his back. I would have kicked his chest as well, but he kept his arm over the back of my knees. "I can walk!"

"Then why didn't you?"

Ari ran up to his side, saying, "Pops, you're over reacting!"

I could feel Sadiq whip his head to Ari. "She's the one who's over reacting! It's just the school!"

France and England were coming up on his rear now, but they did not say anything. They couldn't. I didn't give them the chance.

I dug my nails into the skin around his hips, the part not protected by his jacket. He did not yelp, but by the pressure he added to my legs, I knew that I hurt him. "It's not just the school!" I shouted. Sadiq kicked the front doors open with a loud bang. Clouds of dust kicked up around him as he took me inside. "I died here. Multiple times. I had to worry if I was ever going to see my family again. I was violated. I was—"

He dropped me. A jolt of pain shot up from my tailbone, causing me to yelp. Sadiq grabbed the front of my jacket and pulled me forward. Our faces were so close that I could see the small swirls in the gold irises. They would have looked beautiful if his eyes were not shaped into two narrow lines of hatred. I felt my blood run cold. I have done many things to this man, but this was the first time I had ever seen him looked so furious with me.

"I was violated," he hissed, low enough for only me to hear. "I was caught under contract with a man who insisted that he loved me. I thought that I was going to hurt the men I love. I thought that I was going to ruin the life of a little girl. I thought that I was going to lose my soul. Don't you dare ever tell me that I don't know how it's like. But I'm not going to stand around and let it scare me. I'm better than that. Aren't you?"

"No." I winced, bracing myself for the punch I knew he was going to give me. "I'm scared and the only person who can make things better for me is too busy chasing after some strange imposter girl."

He didn't punch me. Instead, his eyes widened. He looked years younger, almost childlike. "What?"

I frowned and yanked his hand off of me. I kept my hold on his wrist tight, as if to show him how strong I really was. "Remember when you pretended to kiss me in front of Ari?" I demanded, rising to my feet. Seeing the height difference between us shorten made my words seem more powerful and myself feel more competent. He drew his mouth into a tight line. "You did it because you said he was an unnecessary distraction. Do you want me to kiss you in front of Agatha? She's an unnecessary distraction—"

His glare was sharp enough to cut me. "You don't understand." His words bit at my skin.

"Then explained it. Please enlighten me as to why you have an obsession with some girl when everything we both are afraid of is happening again—"

He grabbed my shoulders. "Because I can't kill you again!" I forgot what I was going to say. The stark fear in his eyes was enough to silence every part of me. Sadiq stared at me for a long moment, breathing heavily, before looking down. His hands tightened on my shoulders as he began to tremble. "No, not you. Her. I killed her last time. I let her die. Just knowing for one moment that I can redo everything I did…" He placed his forehead on the crook of my neck. "I just don't want to kill her again."

The pressure built up in my chest. "Are you so concerned with her that you will let me die?"

He looked up at me. There was a single trail of water going down the side of his right cheek. "I wouldn't let him kill you."

"Then why can't you believe me?" I asked. "Sadiq, I don't remember making a contract." He looked away, sewing his mouth shut. I placed a hand on his cheek, forcing him to look at me. "Are you going to leave Agatha alone? I need you with me."

He pulled my hand away. He shyed his face away from my eyes. Without another sound he walked away, leaving me in his dust. I was stunned, helpless to do nothing but watch him walk away. His hands sunk into his pockets, like he was going to take out his pocket watch before he realized that he had none to check. I had the watch now. He did not turn to glance at me.

I sighed and looked down. Of course he wouldn't choose me. I wouldn't choose me.

France appeared at my side. He placed a hand on the small on my back, flashing a charming smile. "He's just scared, Sherry. Turkey will come around eventually."

England joined us at my other hip. A scowl contorted his face, twisting it the same way his arms were twisted over his chest. "Let's just hope the bloody git doesn't mess everything up before then," he muttered. A tense breath left him as his shoulders sagged. "Why don't we get started already? I would like to return to the town before my shipment of flowers arrive. Turkey!"

England's shout echoed against the walls until they reached Sadiq at the other end of the corridor. If the sulking man heard, he did not let on. The sound of his own name did not even make him flinch.

England sighed, telling us he'll go grab him before dashing off in Sadiq's direction.

He was barely ten feet away when Ari chose to speak. "I thought you and Pops had a father-daughter relationship," he said, taking the spot England unoccupied.

I shrugged, looking down at the melting snow on my boots. "It's complicated."

"I'm really good with complicated things."

I could not help but to smile. "It's hard to explained," I told him. "I want him to have that kind of a relationship with me, but I feel like that's not quite it, like it's much different than that."

One thing I loved about Ari was his uncanny ability to understand me. He nodded in that calculating sort of way, gnawing on my words and what I meant by them. The moment before he replied was anything but awkward. "I understand. Just promise me one thing." His eyes gained a sort of fierceness I never knew he had. It was the kind that was found in rabid dogs or boiling water. "Don't hurt Seychelles."

Sadiq and England were returning. I could feel France's expecting eyes on my spine. I did not feel comfortable answering. Why Seychelles? What happened when I wasn't here?

England was ten feet away when he started giving us orders. It was too dangerous for us to be going alone or splitting up into groups. We would stick together. At Ari's suggestion, we decided to start with the bell tower. "It was the last time we saw Himaruya," he said. "There's probably some clues there."

Our walk across campus was a soundless one. France tried to get us into some small talk, but we all brushed him away. My argument with Sadiq had killed all of our zeal. I spent the time engulfed in memories. Down the hall that way would take me to Seychelles's old dorm. There was the door to the underground bar. A staircase that was too rotted to climb was the one I ran down a few cycles to evade Germany. Everything I looked at was from my memories, except it was decaying. The school was dying. My memories, however, were still fresh in my head.

Six years and they were still thriving.

The stairs leading up to the tower were as long and daunting as I remembered them to be. We trudged up the stairs, dreading what we would find at the top. Sadiq faintly mentioned the possibility of a trap. Ari rambled why we should take the risk anyways until we reached the hatch door to the top. France, England, and Sadiq had to combine their strength to push both it and the snow that laid on top of it open. When they did, a waterfall of the white powder cascaded on to us.

The cold chill danced down my skin, making me yelp. I shook it off like a dog, cursing my decision to go without a scarf. If I had one, then maybe I wouldn't have to deal with the snow that was melting down the length of my back. "Jesus Christ!" I trotted up the last of the stairs, hoping to return the warmth to my blood. "I fucking hate the—"

I stopped dead in my tracks. The wind was colder up here, but the world was more beautiful. I moved like a stiff puppet to the edge of the tower, looking out at the earth below me. Every inch glistened in a layer of snow. The forest around us was dotted with little specks of exposed green. It was enchanting in that Christmas story sort of way. I leaned against the nearest pillar, feeling the calmest I've felt all day.

"Shit, it's cold!" Sadiq hugged his arms to his chest, rubbing his hands up and down them. His gaze shifted from the bell suspended a few feet above us to the snow covered stones below. "That's great. If there were any kind of clues, it's covered now."

"Then we should start digging," England replied. He held France's hand, guiding him onto the top step.

Ari burst from the trap door, a boyish look of content on his face. "Man it's hot up here," he said, unzipping his jacket. "I thought they said it was going to be below zero today. It feels more like ten above." He paused, realizing that we were all glaring at him. "What?"

"I know you have 'ice' in your name, Kid, but resist the urge to show off," Sadiq said.

For once, Ari looked like a little kid. "But I wasn't…"

I snickered and looked back at the view. I immediately frowned. Another car had pulled up into view while I was not looking. Three people who were nothing more than mere smudges against the snow were climbing out of it. "Um…guys?" I didn't wait to gain their attention. I pointed a hesitant finger at the front of the school. "I think we have company."

They rushed to my side, nearly sliding off the edge. I felt all of them stiffen at the sight. "Who is it?" I asked, praying America was not among the answers. It wouldn't surprise me if he was the one who followed us back here, ready to get his revenge on Ari and me.

"It's too far away to tell," Sadiq replied, squinting at the sight.

England shook his head. "No it isn't. The guy on the driver's side is Spain," he said, pointing to a figure in a red coat. "I would recognize that arse anywhere."

"What are they doing here?" France asked.

"I don't know, but I don't like it." Ari bit his thumb nail, thinking. "I think we should prepare for the worst."

The men sprang onto the idea like moths to a porch light. I switched my attention between their strategizing talks and the people outside. Their dot forms wandered around our cars for a few moments before walking up the stairs and into the school. Who would be with Spain? He was a nice guy, even if he was a little sudden at times. Whoever he was with, did they know we were here? What were they going to do? Were they in league with Himaruya?

I did not realize that I had pulled my watch out until I was looking into its creamy face. The mysterious third hand had not moved from its spot, yet I knew that it was ticking, waiting for the right moment to inflict its damage. I asked it why Spain was here.

I waited for the answer.

None came.

The Fanboy: December 28th

I pointed the screen of Liechtenstein's phone towards the floor, shining the soft light on the old wood. The layer of dust that should have remained undisturbed was streaked with zigzagging foot prints. A few streaks of cleanliness mingled with them. There must have been a scuffle. I aimed the light further down the hall, revealing a clear path. I whistled, drawing Lars and Antonio's attention. "I found the trail," I announced, turning off Liechtenstein's phone and placing it in a safe spot in my purse. She had a touch screen, one that I was afraid would break in my hands.

"Wonderful work, Pocahontas," Lars said, patting my back. "Now will you explain why we're following them?"

"Only if you can paint with all the colors of the wind," I replied. I still did not want to reveal Sherry's presence to Antonio, so to ensure the secrecy, I decided to keep it a secret from Lars as well. He would understand. He did the same thing when he was in my position back during the days of THE WAR. My Sherry was his Mathias. It would be selfish for him not to see the relation.

Antonio moved from the trophy case he had been observing. "I would like to know as well," he said, that large smile of his taking up the majority of his face. "It's not like you to keep secrets."

Did he suspect? His eyes looked as vacant of all seriousness as always, yet I could not help but to feel as though he was acting.

Sayaka was the better actor.

I rose to my feet, feeling my knees crack with effort. "Call it a hunch," I replied. I wasted a moment adjusting the purse hanging from my shoulder, seeing if either man would say anything. Neither did. I sighed, adding, "Okay, I overheard Seychelles yesterday talking about a 'special contract' and with how suspicious the whole group has been acting, I feel like they're a pretty good place to start."

Antonio raised a brow. "How are they being suspicious?"

I shrugged, searching my head for an example. My eyes darted along the entry hall of the school, noting how dark the gray light seeping in from the long windows left everything. Lars spent the car ride over describing the school to me when it was in its glory days. He said that it was a year and a half ago when everyone's bosses closed it down for good. It looked it too. The walls were cracked and colored in a distinctly green shade of mold. Even the wood floors beneath us looked ready to collapse at the wrong step.

It wasn't until Lars stuck his lighter to the tip of his cigarette did I conjure an example. "Remember the night the police station blew up?" I asked. "Don't you think that it was a little bit too convenient for Turkey to have run in there?"

Antonio looked unconvinced. "Then why aren't we investigating Switzerland as well?" he asked.

"Do you want to risk getting your ass blown off?" Lars demanded. I felt a swell of relief. If he knew I was hiding something, he did not let on. I would say by the legitimate fear in his eyes he actually did not want to run into Switzerland.

Antonio shifted an annoyed look between the two of us. He settled it on me. "Well when you want to tell me the truth, you can do so," he said. Any scorn that mixed itself in his voice evaporated, leaving behind a visage of pure hurt. "I'll listen." He sounded like he was about to cry.

I felt my resolve weaken in my chest. Maybe he did want to tell me that Sherry was here, but the true creator really wouldn't allow him to tell me the details of the plan. Maybe the knowledge that she was here was ripping him apart like it was for me.

Or maybe he was expecting me to forget my duties to my family at the drop of a pin. That wouldn't surprise me.

I rolled my eyes and started down the path in the dust. "Same goes for you, Bucko."

I faintly heard Lars snicker before following after me.

That killed whatever hopes of conversation I had. I did not talk in fear of Antonio looking for a way to pry apart my argument. Antonio kept his mouth shut just to be stubborn. Lars's was occupied by the killing machine between his lips. For a while, I tried talking to Liechtenstein. A strange part of me still believed that she was somewhere in the corners of my brain, observing like she used to. I called out in my head her name a few times, but each one was answered with silence. Where was she? If Himaruya really did have her in his clutches, I'll rip his lungs out of his chest.

I bit my lip, looking down at the rotting wood on the ground. With each step dust jumped into the air and fell to the ground like the snow outside. When I was little, Mom told Jerry and I that it was pixie dust and if we did not dust it away, then we would never be able to gather enough to fly to Neverland. I wondered if in this strange, fantastical world Neverland exists, along with Peter Pan and his lost boys. Peter wouldn't have trouble killing people, especially those who hurt him and his friends. He would regard the murder like a childish game, indulging himself in the role of the hero.

I wished I was him. Maybe then I would have the courage to take the knife out of my purse and stab Himaruya. I should. Would Sherry want me kill someone or rip their lungs from their chest? I warmed my hands in my pockets. No, she wouldn't. She was better than that.

I continued following the trail, letting the wan light from the outside illuminate the way. We turned down one corner and went down another. We climbed a staircase, found out that it was rotted half way up, went back down, and followed the trail down another corridor. Lars pointed to a bathroom and told me a quick story about how he hid weed in the tampon dispenser. I asked him why he was in the girl's bathroom. He only laughed.

"Did you do anything serious when you were at this place?" I demanded.

Lars shrugged. "I left the serious stuff to Liechtenstein and Antonio. I didn't need to do much."

"He spent nearly every day stalking Alfred and Mathias," Antonio said. I raised a brow, noticing the small smile on his face. He looked happy enough, but there was something mockful in the way he said it. I did not understand why until I looked back at Lars.

The Dutch man held his face towards the ceiling, his eyes watching the wisps of smoke permeating from his cigarette. They swirled into exaggerate shapes in the air. Lars was not one to reveal his emotions often, yet this one was as plain as day. He was hurt. The very thought of his brother in such a position drove him insane.

I chose not to reply, fearing Antonio would take another chance to grind at Lars's nerves. Instead, I occupied myself with my own thoughts. Something was wrong with Antonio. It was not like him to keep secrets or purposefully hurt Lars. Why was he reacting this way?

We walked on.

It wasn't until we went down what Antonio called the science wing did I notice the orange blob lingering in the corner of my eyes. I walked a few steps, unsure if I was imagining it or not. It stayed with me for the next few yards, always remaining as palpable as before. It wouldn't hurt me to see what it was. I turned towards it.

And stopped.

I stared at my reflection at the window. Instead of seeing Liechtenstein's wide-eyed face, I saw myself. I saw my same head of orange hair brush the nape of my neck, the same pair of glasses balancing on the bridge of my nose. I wore the same red shirt and same baggy jeans. My mouth fell open and my reflection mimicked it.

What in the world...

"Larry, what are you looking at?"

I ignored Antonio's question and stepped towards it. A loud part of me demanded that I step away, but I barely heard it. My instincts told me to trust it. It was myself I was looking at and I would not hurt me. Carefully, I reached out a hand towards the window. My reflection followed suit, placing his palm in the space beneath mine.

I gasped.

The instant I made contact with the glass, a frigid chill unlike any other consumed the length of my arm. It froze me in place, icing my mouth shut before I could think to scream. The hairs on my arms pricked as it tore through my intestines. I stared into the terrified glint in my eyes. My reflection only moved when I did, yet I felt like it was pulling me in, shoving me back into a place I once knew.

The Fanboy: Saturday

"You're not an adult." I turned and marched away from Sherry, fuming over her words. She called me selfish. That was rich, coming from an attention whore like her.

Thoughts like those were coursing through the wires of my brain as I ran up the staircase. They did not cease until my foot hit the top step. I stopped, taking the breath I did not realize I needed. I placed a hand on my pocket, feeling the outline of the blade. I pulled my knife on Jerry. In a single breath, I had ruined my relationship with my brother.

My knees lost all their strength. I gasped, bracing my limp body on the wall. Why did I get scared? He was my brother. Nothing he ever said would ever harm me. Maybe the better question was why I let his confession scare me. I should have taken rein of my emotions the moment I realized what was happening. If I had, perhaps the world wouldn't seem to be crashing down around my ears.

Numbly, I straightened every agonizing string in my spine. I knew that my body did not want to move, yet I was still able to find it within myself to drag my feet across the hallway floor. I was pretty proud of myself for doing it. But whatever good feeling that had surfaced within me vanished the instant I reached my bedroom door. Standing there, I thought about swinging the door open and announcing my apologies to Jerry.

I already knew that he wouldn't accept them.

I shuffled away, moving towards the next best spot: Sherry's room.

I never told Sherry this, but her room was like my sanctuary. Whenever a bad nightmare struck me, I knew that I could easily smuggle myself into her room and spend the night wide awake with her. Even when she was away at college, I still spent time in her room. I would lie on her bare mattress during the heat of the school year and work out the puzzles in my head.

Her mattress was not bare today. It was covered in unmade sheets embellished with the occasional pillow or stuff animal. I closed the door before laying on top of it all. A particular knot in the sheets dug into my back. I ignored it, only tried to clear my head. I forced my breathing to slow, yet my head was still ringing, still assaulted by every sense.

I groaned and pulled my glasses off. The world turned blurry. With my sight gone, the buzzing in my head had no choice but to die off. I pinched the bridge of my nose, taking long, exaggerated breaths. If I did not have such a dependency on those knives, this might have never been a problem.

I read a psychology book once. My school used to have a psychology elective until the teacher retired three-odd years ago. The principal insisted that she would find a replacement soon, but none had yet to appear. The textbooks were still at the school library, their blue spines lined up on an orderly shelf. Towards the end of my junior year, I checked one of them out. I did it on a whim, not a lot of thought put into it. I absorbed the tidbits of knowledge the black letters inside had to tell me, not caring what they were.

Then I reached the abnormal psychology section.

Imbalances in hormones lead to the deterioration of the brain. Anyone with the wrong set of genes can be triggered and thrust into schizophrenia. Anything could be a disorder as long as it was distressful, dysfunctional, and deviant. The body I lived in- I was -suddenly seemed much more fragile, much more illogical. It almost made me afraid to step outside when I knew that I was putting myself at the risk of developing some sort of abnormality.

I felt sick as I read more and more, finally reaching the last section: anxiety disorders.

PTSD: Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

Symptoms: flashbacks, mood swings, panic, nightmares.

I knew that I fit most of the requirements, yet I did not want to admit it to myself. I did not want to say that I upset the delicate balance of my mind. I wanted to believe that once I took care of Himaruya for once and for all, the nightmares would go away and I could be at ease. Reading that soldiers in wars mostly make only partial recoveries made needles prick on my arms. I wanted to be normal again, not depending my sanity on a pair of knives.

I focused on my breathing. I wasn't crazy. Not yet at least.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone. It was a mechanical motion, one that I had done many times before. No thoughts had to flit across my brain as I called the first number on speed dial. A sense of security rushed through me when Sayaka answered the phone. "Hey Sayaka, it's me again."

"Is something wrong?" she asked, a tinge of concern in her voice. She knew from the years we've been together that I only called when I was cycling through one of my moods.

I placed a hand on my forehead, exhaling a tense spout of air. "Yeah. Are you free today?"

"I'm just finishing up rehearsals. Let me pick up my notes from the director and I'll be over there soon. You're at your house, right?"

I told her I was, gave her a heartfelt "I love you" before letting her hang up. Every day I think about how she is too good for me and every day she does her best to confirm it.

Drowsiness pushed my eyelids down. Feeling more quelled then I had been before, I allowed them to shut out the blurred world completely.

The doorbell rang.

I opened my eyes and yawned away the rest of my sleep. I still felt tired, but the prospect of talking to Sayaka made me alert. I sat up and rubbed the sand from my eyes. Should I tell her that I got tickets to Chicago now or wait for a more romantic moment?

"I'll get it!" Sherry yelled.

I frowned, listening to her open the door. If she started telling Sayaka about the argument before I could tell my side of the story, I would not hesitate to hit her. I swung my legs off the bed, feeling the carpet tickle the web between my toes. Would it be too much trouble to go into my room and grab a pair of shoes or would Jerry-

Sherry screamed.

I didn't think. I grabbed the first thing that felt like my glasses and jammed them onto my face. I've heard screams like that before on the Romanov.

In the middle of a battle.

I flew from the bed, my temples pounding. I banged the door open with a crash. "Sherry!" I ran down the hallway, pulling out my knives in the process. I didn't know who or what was down there, I just knew my sister was in trouble.

The door to my bedroom peeked open, revealing Jerry and his bedhead. "What's going-"

I shoved him back into the room, pulling the door shut behind him. I held the knob on my side as he struggled with the one on his. "Stay in there," I ordered, feeling the knob squirm beneath my palm. I would have waited to make sure that he did not try to follow me, but I could hear the unfamiliar male voices that mingled with Sherry's whimpers.

I ran to the staircase, prepared to throw my knives when...

The Fanboy: December 28th

"Larry!"

Two hands pulled me from the window, releasing me from my trance. I stumbled back, my head swimming, before hitting my back against something hard. I placed a hand against my forehead. What was that? It seemed so familiar, yet I knew that it was the first time I had ever seen it. Unless it was...

Someone twisted me around and the face of the person I banged into appeared in front of me. Antonio's eyes were wide and his body shook with tremors. His breathing was as laborious as my own. "Are you alright?" he asked, his hands flying to every inch of me. They checked my cheeks, my sides, my hands, anywhere I could have been hurt. "What happened? Did the false creator get to you? Did Alfred or Roderich..."

I shook my head. I swallowed the pool of spit in my mouth, trying to wet my parched throat. "I wasn't hurt," I said in a small voice. I was afraid to speak any louder. If I did, Antonio might have heard the tremble running through me. "I... I was just remembering something."

His eyes grew to the size of dinner plates. His hands found themselves on top of mine. "Remembering? Remembering what?"

I looked down at them, seeing the way he passed his thumb over my knuckle. That was something only lovers did. I should tell him to stop before he got the wrong idea. But Sherry and her fate was a more pressing matter. "I remembered what happened after my argument with Jerry," I explained. "My sister's in trouble."

Antonio paled.

Lars, who was standing off to the side, raised a brow. "You have a sister?"

"What do you mean she's in trouble?" Antonio asked. He spoke to me gently, yet I could feel the pressure crawl along my skin before piercing its hot fangs into me .

I shifted my feet. "I heard her scream, but you guys pulled me out of it before I could remember anything else."

Antonio shook his head. "No, Larry. You're wrong." My stomach dropped as he looked down at my hands. He played with my fingers, pulling them apart and counting each digit. "You couldn't have remembered that since you have nothing to remember. All of your memories are completely intact."

"But-" I bit my tongue. I couldn't let him know I knew the truth, not yet. I found something else to say. "But I remember Sherry-"

"No, you didn't. I don't know what you saw there, but it was not your memories. Your sister is fine. Don't fall for the false creator's trap."

There was nothing else I could do but nod. I felt sick. I knew he was lying to me, lying straight to my face, but I had no way to prove it. I knew that those memories were mine. I knew Sherry was here, and if she was here, she was not okay. What was at the door that made her scream like that? I didn't know, but I had every intention of finding out.

I pulled my hands away, keeping them as far from Antonio as possible. Antonio watched them slip away, his face cracking at the sight. He quickly looked away, hiding his face behind his bangs. "Larry, I..."

"Aw, cute little love birds!"

I jumped, startled. "What the frack was that?" I asked, twisting my head around in circles. The voice was feminine, but it was unfamiliar to me.

I turned to Lars, but he only gave me a shrug. "I don't know where that came from either."

"Umm... guys..." Antonio pointed to something behind me. He did not sound afraid. Rather, his voice wavered with uncertainty.

I turned around. In hindsight, I should not have been surprised by the pair of transparent breasts that appeared in my face. Strange things like that had a tendency to happen to me. But in the moment, the sight of the buxom woman was enough to make me scream. I scrambled backwards, knocking into Antonio's chest once again. "What in the ever living frack-"

Antonio placed both of his hands on my shoulders, giving them a firm squeeze. "What Pangaea are you?" he asked in a formal voice.

No wonder the woman looked familiar. She had the same plump, dark body that I saw all those years ago. Her floor length gown was a bright green. Her eyes were an even brighter shade of blue. Her hair flooded around her frame in bright yellow and green tresses, mimicking a sweeping cape. She hovered a few feet in the air, her body bobbing up and down like a buoy in the ocean. When she spoke, her voice was infinitely large, each vowel bouncing off the walls. "I am Ghost Pangaea."

I threw my hands into the air. "I'm done!" I yanked my shoulders out of his hands, intending to walk away from this crap. "I am so down with all the weirdness this world has entitled-"

"Larry!" Antonio grabbed my hand, holding me in place.

Ghost Pangaea laughed again. "Aw, you two are a cute little bunch of love birds!"

I rolled my eyes and yanked my hand away. "Heck, no. I am not in love with him."

She raised a thin brow, aiming her eyes at Antonio. "And you?"

His eyes drew me in, their green fire steady in the wan light. He reached for my hand again, wrapping his strong fingers around mine. I started to untangle us, but his words stopped me dead. "I never will stop loving you."

"Then why are you lying to me?" I wondered. Outside, my mouth twitched, refusing to function properly. It felt like my spit had turned into the world's strongest glue.

Lars was the one who rescued me from the awkwardness. He ambled to my side, his arms knotted over his chest. "Why are you here, Ghost Pangaea?" he demanded. The bright tip of his cigarette danced with each opening and closing of his lips.

She shrugged. "I don't really know. I just got a little excited," she said. "There was a group of people who passed through earlier, but a lover's squabble had just passed so it wasn't all the cute, but those two-"

A group? "Do you know where they went?" I asked, coming closer to the ghost. A far corner of my head decided that it would be best to just ignore everything Antonio had been trying to tell me. Maybe if I did, it might get through his thick skull that I wasn't interested in being in a homosexual romance with him.

"I think it was the bell tower-"

I looked at Lars. "Do you know where that is?" I asked.

He gave me a crooked smile. "Of course I do." He held out his hand. "Shall we go, Princess?" Maybe it was just to keep our little joke going, maybe it was just to slap Antonio in the face. Either way, I grabbed his hand readily and sped off with him to the bell tower, leaving Antonio and his freaky little ghost in the dust.

If we had taken the path Sherry and her friends left us, we would have made it to the winding staircase within a short few minutes. Lars insisted that we (Antonio trailed after us with a pitiful pout curled on his lips) took the path he wanted, which lead us to plenty of rotten staircases and impassable hallways. In the end, I pulled out Liechtenstein's phone and followed the dust trail once again.

The crisp draft that seeped through the cracks in the walls intensified with each creaking step upwards. The stone walls that circled around us were ice beneath my fingers. I huddled into my jacket, watching as each exhale turned white in the air. Still Lars, Antonio, and I climbed the staircase of the clock tower, each weighted step of the foot taking us an inch closer to Sherry.

"What are we going to do when we reach them?" Lars asked. He had abandoned his cigarette a long time ago, focusing his attention on the constant tying and retying of his stripped scarf.

"Just do what I say," Antonio replied. He had pulled his own scarf up to his nose, the red tip of it peeking out over the deep green fabric. "I don't think they'll harm us though."

"I have to get a chance to talk to Seychelles," I added.

Lars chuckled, though it sounded more like a hoarse breath. "If all of this is about trying to get into her pants—"

I gagged. Trying to get into Sherry's pants? "No, that's in—"

Luckily, Antonio cut me off before I could I could add the last syllable. "I've just had my heart broken by your straight nonsense," he drawled. "It would be greatly appreciated if you would resist bringing it up in my presence."

I rolled my eyes. "Stop being overly dramatic—" I stopped, quickly hushing the both of them. Before they could think to say anything, I pointed to the top of the stair case where a trap door leading into the outside lied. Snow was piled on the last steps to the top. From my angle I could see the outermost rim of a large, brass bell.

We did not have to say a single word. Antonio shuffled to the front, leaving me in the back with Lars squished between us. He placed a grand smile on his face before he straightened his back and raised his chin. He looked like one of those perfect American fathers on the old fifties Coca-Cola coasters.

I could not mess this up, I decided. Not now, not when my sister was in the equation.

When Antonio reached the open air, he beamed at the people on the top. "England! France! I haven't seen you two in a long time!"

My nerves buzzed, as if there was electricity jumping from one bundle to another. My lungs burned as if I had been holding my breath, but I forced myself to ignore it. I knew by now that my suffocation was a side effect of my panic. I jogged past Lars, pushing my way to the top. I needed to see her. I needed to know what was…

The wintry air slapped my face and bit my nose. I shut my eyes for a moment, then forced them open again. France and England were standing side by side beneath a colossus bell, poised with the uneasy stance a diplomat would wear. They wore it well. Their expressions were so consuming that I almost did not see the two teenagers lingering at a pillar behind them. Iceland stood in front of Seychelles, his face blank as he held an arm between me and her.

I gulped. Sherry was Seychelles. I had to get to Seychelles.

England grimaced. "Lovely day, isn't it Spain?" he said in his posh accent. "Say, what are you doing here?"

As Antonio started to reply, giving him a lie fabricated on the spot, the ill feeling returned to my gut. The atmosphere of the scene was too heavy for it to have been accidental. The way Sherry's companions were arranged was strange as well. Iceland was standing in front of Sherry, as if to protect her, while France and England were standing as if to protect him. But they had no weapons to protect themselves with.

The snow crunched behind me.

The other day, Iceland and Sherry ran into the café with Turkey.

I whipped my head around, only to be met with a dark, moving figure. "Antonio, watch-" A pair of hands- Lars's -pushed me to the side. The cold met my torso. I rolled on my side, cutting a clear line through the snow until I hit a pillar. I groaned, feeling my head spin. It was a surprise attack. They knew we were coming.

I slipped my hand into my purse, pulling out the steak knife. The feel of the plastic hilt cleared my head enough for me to process what I was seeing. Turkey and Lars were hand-in-hand, both trying to use their strengths to overpower one another. Antonio stood a few feet away, holding his body in a fighting stance as England and France approached him. "We don't want to fight you" was what he was saying before Turkey kicked a leg into Lars's chest, sending him flying into the blonds.

They fell to the ground with a great crash. France and England ended up beneath him. Lars fought to sit up, a murderous glint in his eyes. He started to his feet, but France grabbed his arms and pulled him back down. They engaged in a wrestling match, the two medium size men against one giant. Their limbs tangled with their grunts and yelps.

Antonio looked down at them before looking back up at Turkey. "We mean no harm," he said, showing Turkey the emptiness of his palms. Turkey glared at him, taking another step forward. "Turkey—"

Turkey lashed out first, aiming a punch at Antonio. He let it strike him. His head flew to the side, his body swaying from the force. A thin trail of blood appeared from his nose. Antonio stumbled back, holding his arm to his nostrils. "Turkey, I order you to stop fighting."

Turkey ignored him, running in for another hit. Antonio raised his hands in defense, catching the punch.

A scream pierced the air.

I seemed to be the only one to hear it. I looked back at Sherry and Iceland, only to find Sherry on the ground, trying to hold herself up while clutching the area around her heart. She coughed and hacked between breaths, unaware of Iceland as he crouched to her side. "Why now?" I heard him ask as he patted her back. "Why are you in pain now?"

I stared at her, unsure of what I was looking at until I saw her hack up a wad of bloody spit. The crimson was paler than normal, but it was still sharp against the snow. The red against the white glared at me.

I had seen this before, a long time ago, on the Romanov.

Mathias had just lost his contract.

And now I was going to lose my sister.

"Sherry!" I rushed to my feet, the soles of my shoes sliding in the ice. I scrambled to get back on both legs and, when I was, nothing else mattered to me more than getting to Sherry. I ignored the wrestling happening beneath the bell and the boxing right beside it. I ignored the hostile glare of the silver haired boy. All that mattered was getting to my sister before Himaruya got his claws around her.

That silver haired boy was the only person standing in my way. He snapped off the ground, bulwarking himself between me and her. "Get away!" he ordered. I stopped in my tracks, a few feet left between us. "Don't you dare come any closer!"

My panting filled my ears. I could barely hear him, but the glare he sent me was enough. I saw his eyes flickered to my hands. I looked down and saw that I was still holding my knife. He thought I was going to hurt her.

I gulped and dropped it, hearing it crunch into the snow. Iceland raised a brow when I raised my hands in the air. "I mean no harm," I said. Even though every inch of my body felt fragile, my voice was clear and strong. "I just need to talk to her."

Iceland looked back at my agonizing sister as she coughed another spout of blood. Her body trembled in pain. I wanted to push Iceland aside, but I knew that I had to play by the rules. He looked back at me. He was skeptical, but more willing to listen. "Why?"

I didn't ask myself if I was giving away too much information. I didn't wonder if Antonio, who was still screaming his order as he dealt his own kicks and punches, would hear. I just let it slip out of my mouth. "My name is Larry Sue. Sherry is my sister."

The world stopped.

For a long breath, I stood still as a numbed feeling washed over my body. My breathing slowed to the rhythmic inhales and exhales of sleep. I knew that I could not have blinked an eye if I wanted to. Everyone around me froze in the same manner, except it looked like their numbings were quicker than mine. Maybe the transformation seemed slow to them. I didn't know. I could only see the fear standing stark in their eyes. The only good I could see was that Sherry had stopped her labored breathing. She seemed normal now, caught in her crouched position on the ground.

Stillness laid over us like a blanket, its folds suffocating our lungs.

Sensation surged back to me first.

It was quick, like a whip lash, my breaths returning to panic pants, my body tipping with my lost sense of balance. I stumbled, catching myself on the side of a pillar. I gritted my teeth, pushing myself straight. Sherry was right there, I just had to take a step-

Slow clapping filled the air.

"Good job, Larry-boy." I did not need to turn to know that Mathias was there, standing among us. I looked at him anyways, unsurprised to see his in his pure white suit. What caught me unawares was the presence of Roderich and Alfred.

They all wore the same white suits, though Alfred and Roderich accompanied theirs with a pair of smart glasses. Roderich had black hair that was greased in every which way. An unnatural looking mole dotted itself by the corner of his lip. His whole being looked unnatural, save for the frown that always manifested on his mouth.

Alfred was his polar twin, always beaming with fake laughs and artificial grins. His hair was the same color as corn, his cheeks warmed with a healthy glow. His eyes were the same color as opened skies, though the very sight of them made me feel trapped.

I tightened my fists, three years' worth of anger flooding to me. I bit it back, reminding myself to keep my cool. I looked to the side, seeing that Antonio was also frozen. He gave me a look, one that told me that I had to take charge now. I commanded my body to stand upright, wearing the facade of power. If I did not acknowledge my fear, they could not use it against me. "Wow, I got all three of you in one place," I said. "Man, don't I feel special today."

"It's so nice to see you again," Roderich said, always the proper gentleman. He regarded the snow with the same cold eye he regarded me. "If only it was in a warmer place."

I shrugged, leaning against the pillar. "I figured that you would be more comfortable in a temperature that matched the empty space you call a heart."

Alfred laughed. "Dude, you are still hilarious," he said, daring to approach me. I looked down at the ground, noting the place where my knife laid in the snow. I was lucky; it was close by. "But seriously-" He slammed his hands to the empty pillar space at my sides, trapping me between him and the stone. Alfred leaned in until his face was a mere inch from mine. That cheeky grin still showed on his face, but it seemed more like a threat. "Enough with the witty banter. What do you really want to say?"

I refused to gulp. I challenged him with my eyes, crossing my arms over my chest. "Fine then. What are you doing here?" I said. I slid my foot into the gap between his feet. "Why is my sister in pain? What did you do to her?"

"We didn't do anything to her. You might want to ask-" He ended in a howl, my foot sliding behind his and knocking him to the ground. He fell back first into the snow, his head a foot from my knife. I sprang onto him, straddling his chest as I reached for the weapon. My fingers brushed the hilt.

Alfred flipped us around, pushing my back into the snow. It was warmer than the claw-like hands that wrapped around my arms like vices. Alfred grinned down at me, laughing again. "Man, this is so fucking gay. Are you gay for me, Larry?"

I kicked my legs, which prompted him to dig his knees into my thighs. I hissed, but said nothing. Whatever I said would be used against me.

Alfred turned his grin at Antonio. "Hey Aluino! I think your boyfriend's gay for me!" I saw Antonio's eyes darken with anger. Alfred laughed at him again. Then, without so much as a warning, he smacked his lips against mine.

.

.

.

It was disgusting. I tried to turn my face away, struggling against his bounds again, but he held me in place and his mouth remained steady against mine. I knew what he was doing. He was taking advantage of Antonio's paralysis. Alfred was only trying to mess with Antonio's head.

And it was disgusting.

Alfred pulled away, a string of spit hanging from his mouth. I gasped for air. I turned my head to the side, spitting the contents of my mouth. It was only my own spit, but it was vile. I screamed swears between spits, my legs shooting up again, my arms struggling against his hold. "Fuck you!" Spit. "Fuck you!"

Alfred ignored me. He did not bother to wipe the spit string away as he sent Antonio another award winning smile. "Man, it must suck to have to stand to the side and not do anything," he jeered. "Are you sure this imposter guy knows what he's doing?"

Roderich stepped forward, his presence strong enough to silence his brother. It didn't silence me. My words cut aching scratches in the meat of my throat, but I did not stop.

Roderich pressed his hands to his ears. "Goodness, Mr. Sue," he shouted, his volume barely higher than mine. "I believe you've made your point clear by now. Would you please give it a rest?" He waited for me to stop. I didn't. He sighed and motioned with his hand. A force pressed down on my lips, clamping my mouth together. Unable to scream, I focused more of my attention on struggling against Alfred. It was fruitless and I knew it. He still had his inhuman strength to wield against me.

"That's much better," Roderich said. He looked at the people frozen mid-step. Their eyes glimmered with their feelings and I could see a variety of them ranging from pure hatred to pure fear. The only eyes I could not see were Sherry's, who had kept her face low the moments before the freeze. "I think nearly everyone here is thoroughly confused as to what is going on here."

He walked to Turkey, who was frozen in the middle of a left hand swing. Roderich placed a hand on his cheek, smoothing it down the side of his stubble. "So you're the one our father went crazy after," he said in an almost absent manner. "You are quite handsome, Sadiq Adnan, though your personality does enough to make you ugly."

He turned to France and England. France had been pushed to the ground, Lars on top of him, as England's arm hooked itself around the Dutchman's neck. "And I see that the shining stars of the community are here as well," he said coldly, nudging England's arm with his foot. "It's a shame you two had to get involved in all of this nonsense."

His eyes skimmed over Lars, refusing to acknowledge him.

They landed on Iceland instead. "And, of course, we have our pawn: little Iceland. If my father knew that making you straight would make you cling to this cause like a leech then I'm sure he would have left you alone. We don't like people like you- people who use other's pain to their own entertainment." He patted Iceland's small shoulders. "I hope you've finally found a brain smart enough to match your own."

Alfred pulled my arms over my head, holding them down at the wrist with one hand. He used his free hand to grab my hair and force my head towards my sister. "You might want to see this," he said, low enough for only me to hear. I would have torn that smirk off his face if I could.

Roderich and Mathias approached my crouching sister, regarding her with distant eyes. "And finally you: Sherry Sue. I don't believe we've met before." The force that held her in place disappeared. Her shoulders slumped as she almost fell to the ground, but she held herself up. Sherry lifted her head, revealing the most hateful look I had ever seen. Yet, among the animosity, there was fear. Fear that was marked by the two mute trails of tears cascading down her face. Roderich held out his hand. "You may call me Erwin."

Sherry glared at it. I saw the muscles of her neck flex with her swallow. She stood. She moved as if her skin was china poised to break at the slightest touch. Roderich's face lit up with humor as she tried to raise her chin against the trepidation coursing down her body. "Tell your bitch to get off my brother," she said in a voice barely scraping above a whisper.

Roderich smirked. "Are you sure he's your brother? He could be one of our traps."

"If he was a trap, you wouldn't have told me so," she said, gaining her strength. "Now tell America to get off Larry and release my friends."

"I cannot do that."

"Because you're a bitch as well?"

I chuckled against my closed mouth, but I quickly stopped. Roderich lashed his hand at Sherry, snatching her neck in his hands. The sound of her choking made a new sense of panic surge through my limbs. I wrestled in his grasp, cursing, thinking of only helping her, seeing only how he pushed Sherry towards the edge of the tower, forcing her to lean her upper body over the edge.

"Tell me," Roderich said, "Are you afraid of heights?"

She responded with a choke. She scratched her nails on his hands as her eyes switched between his murderous gaze and the drop beneath her.

Roderich held her like that for a long moment before tossing her back onto the tower floor. She hit the snow with a thud, her face buried in the white. She was a few yards away from me, too far out of my reach to do anything to help her. "You are very lucky my father wants you to stay alive," he said, wiping his hands against each other. "Very lucky indeed. Luckier for you, you and Mr. Sue have invitations to visit him in his domain..."

The world around me started to fade away. The feeling of Alfred holding me, the frigid air, the sound of Roderich's voice disappeared with each changing moment. The edges of my vision framed itself in black, spreading like a virus across the whole picture. When there was only a small dot of light left, the ground under me disappeared and I found myself falling

and falling

and falling

and falling

a

n

d

. . .

MW: Short, but filling chapter, am I right? I feel like I should have a lot to say about this one, but I feel like it really speaks for itself. It's the chapter five game changer, ending with a wonderful cliff hanger. It great how each installment follows a pattern. Or does it? Also, who liked that gay kiss I mentioned Larry was going to have this chapter? I bet you all thought it was going to be from Antonio. Don't fight me on this one.

So review if you feel like it. I'll update whenever I get the next part done. Feel free to check out some of my other less known stories. Thanks for taking the time to read and have a wonderful evening.

No Notes

Thanks for taking the time to read this! Good night! Don't let the bed bugs bite!