What Goes Around Comes Around
July 5th, Adalia May
Since his charitable donation to Helping Hearts, Levi Ackerman has had some good karma—in more ways than one! Sources at Ackerman Enterprises verify the riveting romance between their founder and Old Marley native, Karma Adornato. Ackerman and Adornato can be seen here entering the Marley Theater for their public debut.
"We're excited to see where this goes. Mr. Ackerman must be infatuated if she managed to get him back in the public eye," says Julie Frye, Human Resources at Ackerman Enterprises.
Moviegoers witnessed the whirlwind romance unfold firsthand. "There was some moderate PDA, but it was sweet. Who knew Ackerman had a soft side?" says Daisy Lapelle, classic film enthusiast. "Stocks are on the rise now—I feel confident reinvesting in AE," says Walter Milston of Milston Entertainment.
Perhaps Ackerman isn't the villain we thought him to be. Or is he? Marley Today captured this snapshot last night of presumably Connie Springer fleeing from Ackerman. Bystanders report a "heated tension" between the pair, but AE denies the claim that this was Connie Springer, saying the man was "merely a lookalike." Regardless, this wasn't exactly the Scout reunion we'd been hoping for. What will it take to reunite these former comrades?
"Shit."
Karma looked up from her bowl of oatmeal to see Levi scrubbing his forehead. He grumbled a few more choice words before tossing the newspaper on the coffee table like a poor poker hand.
"What's wrong?" Karma set aside her bowl and joined him on the couch. Jean peeked his head up from the cat tower, not wanting to miss the drama.
"The press is still pushing for a Scout reunion. Yelena's ripping me a new one," he said, silencing the vibrating cell phone that Yelena had forced on him.
"I'm sorry. It's my fault for inviting Sage and Ja—Connie. I had no idea he was one of the Scouts."
"You couldn't have known."
There was a tense pause, and Karma was tempted to change the subject. To discuss last night's almost-kiss. But Levi's expression was strained, deep lines etched in the downward curve of his lip. Now wasn't the time for trivial romance.
She listed her head. "Can I make you some tea?"
"You've never made me tea before."
"I know how you take it, though. Two tea bags, three sugars."
"Alright," he said, rubbing his forehead again, staring at the wall.
Karma hesitated to leave him. "Levi." She placed a gentle hand on his upper arm, expecting him to shake her off. But he didn't. His head tilted slightly toward her. "It'll blow over. I promise."
His eyes lifted to meet hers. "It won't, but I appreciate the sentiment."
Karma gave him a half smile before fixing a pot of tea.
"Here." She watched him take a sip, catching the exact moment when contentment struck him. His tense shoulders deflated. His lips perked.
Instead of fixing herself a cup, Karma picked at her stick-on nails. There was so much she wanted to ask him, but she knew the more sensitive topics required delicacy. She watched him dodge another phone call from a furious Yelena. He had 33 unread messages. "I know you don't want a reunion, but I could see from that picture that you love them," she said.
"You didn't toss it, did you?"
"It's the only time I've ever seen you happy. How could I throw that away?"
"You put it in a garbage receptacle. Even you're smart enough to figure that out." Levi set the cup and saucer aside. "Doesn't matter how I feel. They hate me."
"How can they hate you when you bleed yourself dry to give them everything?"
Levi stared at the steam rising from the kettle. "Believe me, it's for a good reason."
"That's complete bullshit."
"Thanks for trying. You make a convincing fake mistress."
Karma's mouth snapped shut.
"Speaking of which"—Levi checked his watch—"we're scheduled for an appearance at Marley Town Square. Is that what you're wearing?"
Karma glanced down at her pajamas, frowning. "No."
Ackerman's Mistress: Hit or Miss?
July 15th, Adalia May
Levi Ackerman and his mistress, Karma Adornato, have been gracing the public with their sparkling romance for two weeks now, though we have yet to capture any PDA. You can see them spotted here at a local cafe. Or here prancing through town in one of Ackerman's many sports cars. What we wouldn't give to be Karma!
However, some Marley Today readers have made their distasteful opinions known. "[Karma] is Old Marley scum. Why would he ever go for someone like that?" says user girly_elle3. "She's not even pretty," agrees jellybeanzz, "[Levi] should drop her and find someone who's actually on his level."
Will these love birds continue their affair? Or will Ackerman tire of digging through the trash?—
Karma shut off her phone, scowling at the black screen. Between the crude articles and hurtful comments, she was feeling the negative side of fame. This must be how Levi felt. For years, the Marley Today had portrayed him as a villain. The Big Bad Boss who's disfigured on the outside and abhorred on the inside. The man who had everything but lost everyone precious to him.
Karma leaned against the counter, fingernails in her scalp, no appetite for a midnight snack. Two weeks had passed since that almost-kiss. The memory of it was like trying to trap smoke with her hands. It kept fading and escaping her in whisps. She sometimes wondered if it had actually happened at all. But in comparison to Levi's stress from the media and his company and the persistent buzzing of his phone, her feelings were paltry. So instead of talking to him about it, she nurtured her fragile heart in silence.
Tonight was one of those rare instances where Levi allowed Jean in his bed. As he rolled into the kitchen, the fat cat was nestled on his lap. Karma smiled at the mental image of Levi and Jean curled up in bed, fast asleep.
"What's wrong?" Levi said, noting her distress.
Karma scrunched her hair tighter, threatening to rip it out. "I hate being under the spotlight. I don't know how you put up with the media for so many years. They're ruthless."
"Let me make you some tea."
Karma's fingers relaxed. "Do you know how I take it?"
"One bag, one sugar."
She smiled.
Levi finished the cups of tea with a final clink of the spoon and passed her one by the rim. She loved the way he held his drinks. There was something so Levi about the mannerism.
"It's all bullshit anyway," he said, testing the temperature of the tea with his tongue. "Don't let it interfere with our peace."
Levi was right. Their midnight snacks were the only time his phone wasn't blowing up with orders from Yelena or tabloids looking for interviews. In the dimly lit kitchen, where scars were harder to see, they weren't a war vet and a fake mistress. They were just Levi and Karma.
She didn't want to disturb the tranquility of their late night ritual, but she couldn't help the tears that welled in her eyes. The hate comments alone would be one thing, but combined with her suppressed feelings, she'd done her share of crying. But never before had she cried in front of Levi. "It's bullshit, you're right. I don't know why I'm crying over it."
A single tear rolled down her cheek, and Levi swiped it with his finger.
"Thank you," Karma said, lips barely moving.
"Come here." Levi opened his arms. Karma sank to her knees and accepted the first hug he'd ever offered her. Careful not to squish Jean, she got as close to Levi as she physically could. She breathed in hints of sweet shampoo from the hair at his nape, enjoying the feel of his cotton pajamas against her chin, where the tears were making little puddles. Levi leaned forward to bridge the space between them. She felt his cheek against her neck. His nose pressed into her hair.
Of all the touches they'd shared for the sake of the fake romance, this was the most intimate. More intimate than those kisses on her neck and collarbone that she often thought about. Because there was no one around to see it. This was a touch meant only for her.
They were silent for a long while—maybe minutes—before he spoke into her shoulder. "Pisses me off that these media dipshits are getting to you."
Karma's fingers chewed into the fabric stretched over his back. "I get it though. You could do a lot better than some random refugee from Old Marley. Maybe you should find someone more suitable to court a war hero."
She felt him shake his head, his hair brushing across her ear. "I'm not interested. If you decide this fake dating thing is too much, I'll call the whole thing off."
"No, I want to do this. You deserve to have a better public image. I just need to suck it up and deal with the fact that not everyone is going to like me." Present company included.
With a deep inhale, Levi broke the hug. Karma stayed on her knees, breath hitching when Levi swiped the remaining tears off her cheeks.
"I like you." He said it so casually that the impact of his words didn't hit at first.
"You do?"
He lifted one shoulder. "And the cat."
I love you, she wanted to say as his tear-stained fingers pulled away from her cheek. She'd known her feelings ever since he kissed her in that movie theater. He hadn't kissed more than her hand or cheek since then, and, of course, there were always cameras around when he did.
Karma swallowed back her feelings before they could spew out. Instead she said, "I like you too. You're one of my closest friends."
Levi handed her the tea she'd abandoned. She didn't drink. She stared into it, catching the reflection of her eyelashes. "Why were you so reluctant to court Annie Leonhart? As someone who's used to the spotlight, she could've handled the criticism with a lot more grace."
Levi exhaled against the rim of his cup. "Annie was responsible for the deaths of many of my friends. They were called 'Squad Levi.'" He stared into his tea too. "Oluo, Gunther, Petra, and Eld."
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought her up."
"That's alright. I'm glad you know." Levi finished his tea. "Wicked Moron's recital is tomorrow night, right? Suppose I should go in case the press makes an appearance. And, knowing how you are with him, I might need to rein you in."
"Don't worry, I won't leave you for him. I'd never sabotage our fake romance."
"I wouldn't blame you if you did. I know you're in love with him."
Karma shook her head. "I'm not in love with him anymore."
Did she imagine it, or did Levi just smile? It was so brief, but so beautiful. "I'm glad I can count on your fake fidelity." He started to wheel away. Just before the hallway shadows engulfed him, he met her eye. "Goodnight, Karma."
"Night," she managed from her place on the kitchen floor.
Once he was gone, the willpower holding in her emotions snapped. Tears flowed endlessly. She kept the sniveling and hiccuping to a minimum, not wanting to alert him.
What we wouldn't give to be Karma! What a load of shit. She would give anything to be the Karma they thought she was. To be curled up beside him right now in that king size bed of his. To fall asleep to the sound of his breathing against her neck.
How she wished that hug would've lasted forever. She desperately clung to the memory of it, praying that it too wouldn't turn to smoke.
Karma swiped the tears off her cheeks with a new resolve. He would hear her play tomorrow. She would convey her feelings the only way she knew how.
Karma had overcome her stage fright, but her palms moistened nonetheless as she waited backstage for her name to be announced. Levi was beside her, tucked in the shadows of the curtains.
"Lighten up. You look like you're about to donate a kidney," he said. "You'll do fine."
"Thanks."
The auditorium lights dimmed and booming speakers announced her name and the title of her original piece, "To the Rescue." It was time to take the stage, but Karma's feet were cemented to the floor planks.
"What are you doing?" Levi nudged her with his elbow.
"Will you listen to my song?" she said, almost whispering.
"Of course. What kind of question is that?"
"I mean, will you really listen to it?"
Levi looked at her like she had in fact asked for a kidney. Karma hesitated, then bent to peck a kiss on his cheek. Crimson dress billowing, she scurried onto the stage before he could react.
Karma bowed, loose pieces of her updo falling into her vision. The crowd showered her with applause as she took to the piano bench and adjusted herself. Her wrists glided to the keys. With a single chord, the auditorium melted away.
The world was trembling beneath those red feet. A man with binoculars gasped—the Eldians had arrived. They fought like spiders on silk threads. Like gladiators. Bones crunched, muscles rippled, and the world stilled, holding its breath until the steam of its sigh swallowed up the horizon. It was over.
It was over.
Now the gladiator sat across from her, scarred and battered, hiding behind a wall of newspaper. A key cover slammed. They fought in a windstorm. She sprinted through streets and alleyways to save him. They shared a dinner of mush. The cat nestled between them. He watched her play from the shadows. He didn't kiss her properly. They murmured over sweetened tea. He wiped her tear. He held her close—
The chairs folded in waves as the audience stood to commend her performance. Pretty faces glistened with tears. This was her moment. She should be reveling in the raining confetti of praise, but as she bowed, her mind was far from the blurry hands and whirling whistles.
"Levi?" She stepped around a pulley system and sandbag, cloaked in the musk of aged timber. Once her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she found him. He was looking at her strangely. Like he didn't recognize her.
"Did you like it?" she said, fidgeting with her stick-on nails again.
For a weighty moment, Levi was silent. Then his head creaked side to side like a rusted weathervane. "I told you I don't like music."
Of course. Why had she expected anything else? He was a gladiator, after all—showing weakness could prove deadly. To admit that her song had affected him was to admit defeat. Even still, his words were a snakebite on her heart.
Karma's fingernails bit into her palms as they watched Wickham Moriano's performance. He played his most popular Etudes and Preludes. Once he'd finished the night off with Ballad of the Birds, Karma heard her name through the speakers again, beckoning her to take a final bow.
She finally relaxed her stiff and achy fingers, and walked onstage to stand beside her idol. She should've melted to goo when he flashed her a dimpled smile and he rested his hand on her back. When they bowed together, she should've ogled at the way his cinnamon curls bounced back in place.
Waiting for them backstage was a lively after party with exclusive guests and exquisite finger foods, swiftly assembled by the stage crew during her and Wickham's spotlit stint. With a hand on her lower back, Wickham guided her to the refreshment table.
"You were excellent, Miss Karma," he said, pressing a kiss to her hand for the third time. "I chose well. I am honored to have performed with you."
Karma sought out Levi. He lingered against the wall next to a rig system, within earshot, studying Wickham with unrestrained resentment. Maybe if she flirted a little with Wickham, she could make Levi jealous. She wasn't entirely sure what it would accomplish, but hurt clouded her rationale.
"And I'm so honored to have performed with someone like you, Mr. Moriano," Karma said in a saccharine voice, batting her lashes.
"Please, we're acquainted enough for first names. Wickham is perfectly alright."
"Then you can drop the 'miss.'"
"Karma, then. How lovely." Wickham clasped her hands between his own, swallowing her dainty hands in warmth. "If I interpreted your song correctly, you're in love. Am I right?"
Karma studied their entwined hands. Her voice dropped a note. "Yes."
"I didn't realize you and Mr. Ackerman were that serious. I'm afraid I'm too late." Wickham smiled sadly. "I apologize for being untoward, but I had planned on asking you to dinner after tonight's performance."
In her peripheral, Karma saw Levi's wheelchair land beside her. She smirked and honeyed her voice. "I'd love to go to dinner with you. Mr. Ackerman doesn't mind. Do you, sweetheart?"
That did it.
Levi shot up onto his left leg and gripped her waist as much to balance himself as to claim her. "I mind."
Wickham was significantly taller and broader, but Levi was much more intimidating, fixing the man with an acrid glare.
"I didn't mean to interfere—"
"And yet here you are. Interfering."
Karma couldn't believe her attempt at flirting had actually worked. Levi's raw jealousy seemed too genuine to be an act. He had to feel something—there was some undercurrent of emotion reserved just for her.
The eyes of the refined guests swiveled their way. Murmurs stirred. They were making a scene, but Levi didn't seem to care. Wickham, however, was quick to ease the tension.
"Apologies." He dipped his head. "Karma, I look forward to seeing you thrive in music school. Until then." He turned and left, shaking hands with people as he passed.
Levi thunked back into his wheelchair. "That guy is a complete ass. I don't get what you see in him." He met Karma's eye over his shoulder. "Let's leave."
"I want to stay. This is my after party."
"How can you want anything to do with that pompous, womanizing dickhead? He was practically drooling on you. Come on." He grabbed Karma's hand.
"I'm staying." She yanked her hand free. "There aren't cameras around, so I don't have to play the part of your mistress. There's no reason for me to leave with you. Why can't I have this?"
Levi grabbed her wrist and pulled her away from the milling party goers, lowering his voice. "You told me last night that you weren't in love with him."
"I remember."
"Then what was all that bullshit about you being in love? He just fluttered his lashes and you changed your mind?"
"No you idiot." Hot tears warped her vision. She tried to hold them in, but they spilled gracelessly down her cheeks. "I know you only have one working eye, but how blind can you be?"
There was a momentary lapse in Levi's usual composure. Had Karma blinked, she would've missed the subtle twitch of his brow. He cooled his voice. "You're not honestly in love with me?"
"Believe me, it's not by choice." She swiped her runny nose on the back of her hand. The tears tumbled like pearls from a broken necklace. "I should be in love with Wickham—he actually likes me."
Levi had no response. He didn't chase after her when she burst through the exit doors and hailed a taxi.
Karma was a storm. She tore into the penthouse, red dress scattering sequins like debris, and slammed her bedroom door like a roar of wind. She buried her face into the pillows and cried, streaking the white fabric with black mascara and gold eyeshadow. She was glad to have left her mark on something that belonged to him.
She'd loved Wickham before, she could do it again. Her music program was just two weeks away, and there would be ample time to forget about Levi while being taught by the most beautiful piano teacher to exist. She could forget the almost-kiss. Forget the hug and conversations over tea. Forget it all.
Perhaps this is what happened between him and the Scouts. One look at that photo and she knew they shared everything together. Their meals and laughter. Their fears and desires. Did he mock their laughter? Dismiss those fears?
I told you I don't like music.
You're not honestly in love with me?
As she scrubbed away the tear tracks, a knock rapped on the door.