Memories of my old life are fragmented. Talking to Ryona helps. For a long time, I didn't remember anything at all. Past? Mysterious. Name? Unknown. I still don't remember it all, I even had to make a guess at my name. I was right, turns out, but I could've chosen something else for myself. "Unicorn Sparkles" would have been fun, could have saved myself some drama. Raina Peg'asi? I don't know her. Even when I had no clue who I was, I had the urge to run away, to hide, to get as far away from the Andromeda 6 as I possibly could. I've always had that desire to go as far as my feet could take me, I was just waiting for someone to run with.

Vexx Serif. His name feels like a curse word, a forbidden phrase, a secret I must keep hidden away. Our encounter in Nos Vega had left me reeling. A hate-filled man I had no memories of left a dent in my soul. He told me the most horrible things, none of which sparked a memory for me at the time. I felt disconnected from the girl he was describing to me. A useless little brat of a person, an entitled princess, one so lonely and sad that I was putty in his hands, molded to his whims, and I gave him everything he wanted. Everything. I was no princess, and I was no fool. Right?

It's still embarrassing to admit, but when he vanished into the night, leaving me alone on the cold streets, all I knew is that I love him. It was absurd, impossible, yet undeniable. Even his name was a mystery to me at the time, but the feelings bubbling up inside of me weren't. It drives me crazy. Why do I feel this way? Is there a good reason? Was he kind, charming, or adventurous? Was he funny, was he a dreamer? Did I really not see it was all just a game? Blind to the cruel reality of it all, just because he's good-looking? Was I desperate, settling for the first guy who looked my way? Do I like red flags? Speaking of red flags…

"I hate this fucking music," Damon growls under his breath. I slide into the empty seat next to him at the bar and he orders me a drink. The notorious Krill Bomb — this nasty concoction of blueberry, lemon juice, and… crustacean-based horror. Shrimps is bugs. I only drink it as a little challenge I have with myself. I gulp it down, I keep a straight face, I prove Damon wrong about me, for this one little thing. It's lose/lose for me, though, because I know he knows I can't stand it, and he knows that I'm just doing it to - ugh - impress him. He watches as I drink it, moderating my expression and form. 10/10, I survived again. The glass slams down. Flawless victory. It's not long before the warmth fills my chest, a heady buzz taking control of me and flooding my senses. God I love this song. Does Damon like to dance? No, stop. Be quiet. I step outside, hoping the cool air clears my head.

I think I understand why Damon likes these so much. They might not taste good, but they pack a seriously potent punch. Maaaaybe downing it in one gulp wasn't the best choice. I float through the streets of Cursa, lost in a haze, with not a single care in the world. People turn as I walk past, but I glide past, invisible, unstoppable, a ghost. I just want to be alone, to have some time to think away from the loud cacophony of the club, away from Damon and his provocative jabs.

"I thought I told you to lose the crew."

"Vexx…" his name escapes my lips like vapor, a toxic mist suffocating me. My gaze fixes on the barrel of his rifle. I thought I'd never see him again. The ability to breathe escapes my grasp. Don't do it, Raina. You'll only make things worse, my last brain cell tries to reason with me, but the alcohol wins. My hand flies from my side — it would feel so good to slap him, if only he weren't so much faster and stronger than I am. He seizes my wrists and slams me against the wall, the concrete scraping agasint my sweater. It's not even really my sweater, it's Calderon's. One of his moms knit it for him when he first joined the Guard. I don't have much to my name, anymore, but I love this sweater. It's so big on me, a warm hug from a cold man, and his scent is intoxicating.

"You've got some fight in you. Is this what you wanted, Princess?" Vexx's eyes seem to glow with hatred as he leans in close, his voice an oddly seductive rasp piercing through my thoughts. No, it's not what I wanted at all. Dark desires lurk within everyone, even you. Something Damon once told me echoes through my head. Vexx is my darkest desire, but not like this. Tears well up in my eyes as every single painful feeling I've felt since I woke up on the A6 fights for dominance in my mind. Something changes in him, for a moment. His eyes turn soft, his brows furrow in what has to be mock concern. I brace myself for his snide words, the painful sting of his condescension, how I was so easy, all over again. "I'm… Raina, I'm…. so…" he hesistates, frustration etched onto his face. His grip on my wrists loosens, his thumbs tracing gentle patterns on my skin as he presses his forehead to mine, our breath mingling. His fingers lace in between my fingers, a tender gesture at odds with the uncaring fascade from earlier. Words tumble out of his mouth and scatter. A coherent sentence fights to find its way to the surface in vain. Our eyes lock, I can sense the depth of his inner turmoil, a glimmer of vulnerability and regret pairing bitterly.

A dark figure detaches from the alley, looming behind Vexx. Before I can even react, Vexx has him pinned on the ground with a blade to his throat. Damon. Shit. "Vexx, don't —" I start, but Calderon moves faster than my words can travel, his gun pressed to Vexx's temple, freezing time. "NO." It wasn't a plead, it wasn't a question, I wasn't begging. I was commanding, a command that echoed through the alley ways. The strength of my cry was sure to catch attention, attention that we didn't need. The Andromeda 6 crew had a bounty on their collective heads, and as for me? I shudder to think of what the K'Merii would do if they got their hands on me.

Damon brushes himself off, eyes narrowing at Vexx. "You?" Vexx blows him a little kiss, a wicked smile dancing over his sharp features. I roll my eyes, fighting the smirk from growing over my lips, as well. His playfulness is infectious. That's something I love about him, I recall. Seeing him tied up like this pains me, but I don't want to see what he'd be doing right now if he were freed.

As we return to the ship, I keep stealing glances at Vexx, finding his eyes locked on me each time I do. I don't think he's taken his eyes off me for a moment. His intense focus unnerves me. I can't help but wonder if this was part of his plan; his capture seemed too easy, as if he wants to be here with us, heading to the ship full of people he's been contracted to murder.