Author's Note: Welcome back to this joint. I hope you all had a great weekend. This chapter has been edited. While proofreading the previous version for Ao3, I realized I could also replace the current chapter with this revised version. Just made sure the dialogue and structure had more flow.

Disclaimer: Don't own a thing.

Warning: Suspense. Fluff. Drama

Tattoo

ஜ۩۞۩ஜ

Chapter 4: Tranquility and Turbulence

"Cultivate peace within, and you become a beacon of tranquility in a turbulent world."

Happiness sparkled in her dark coffee-colored eyes as she bounced in her seat, her golden locks cascading in luscious waves with each jitter of excitement. A small smile morphed into a wide grin, revealing her pearly whites. This 16-year-old girl was ecstatic—her boyfriend was finally going to reveal the magic trick she had been longing to see.

It was rumored that he was the best at magic tricks, and today, she would discover if the rumors were true.

"Please, please, please, Spud!" she pleaded endlessly, unleashing her most dangerous weapon—her puppy-dog pout. She clasped her hands, quivered her bottom lip with practiced precision, and widened her eyes with exaggerated innocence. "Come on! I want to see your magic trick, now!"

Arthur "Spud" Spudinski shook his head stubbornly, avoiding her gaze as if it were the plague. He recognized the power behind those eyes. One glance, and you were doomed. That was a lesson he'd learned long ago. "Nope," he said, placing extra emphasis on the 'p'. "Stacey, you refused to share your chocolate bar," he whined.

Stacey Wintergrin gaped at him, her arms flailing in outrage. "But Spud! Oh Henry is my favorite! Nobody touches my favorite!" she exclaimed, showing no shame over her exaggerated love for chocolate.

You'd think she'd be the type to avoid junk food based on her figure, but not at all. Stacey didn't hold back when it came to snacks. She used to conceal that part of herself back in middle school—had to, to maintain her image as a cheerleader. But by high school? She dropped the whole fake act. Now, she was her authentic, bubbly, sharp-tongued self. That's how she met Spud. And that's how she became his girlfriend.

Spud chuckled under his breath, enjoying her dramatics. "Stacey, your reaction is priceless!" he laughed, pointing at her reddening face.

Stacey puffed out her cheeks, mildly annoyed. "Hey, you'd react the same if someone tried to take your Doritos!"

In response, Spud's head snapped up. His expression turned serious. "Hey, that's different."

"Nuh-uh, it's not," Stacey countered, hands planted on her hips.

"Yes, it is," Spud shot back, sticking his tongue out at her.

Stacey turned away with a huff, her nose in the air.

They were always like this. Constantly bickering over the most trivial things, then reconciling as if it were nothing. That was their thing. And despite all their quarreling, they'd somehow managed to stay together for three years.

With a dramatic sigh, Spud set aside his pride and moved toward his fiery girlfriend. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her against his chest. "Fine, Stace. I'll show you a magic trick," he murmured into her neck, placing soft kisses there.

Stacey melted instantly. Spud had that effect on her—one touch, and she was a goner. "Heh, okay. What's your magic trick, oh great one?" she asked playfully, giggling as he continued to kiss her neck.

Spud whispered something in her ear that made her cheeks flush.

"Damn, Spud," she laughed, still flirty. "Freaky much?"

Just as they were about to escalate their PDA game, their drama class teacher cleared her throat—loudly. Clipboard in one hand, the other resting on her hip, she glared at them with disapproval.

"Spud and Stacey. Where are your three teammates—Trishelle Carter, Rose Tyler, and Jacob Long?" she demanded, tapping the clipboard. "They're thirty minutes late."

Spud and Stacey exchanged blank looks. Spud knew Jake and Rose went to find a lost bracelet, but Trixie? That was unusual. She was never late. Her grandma didn't tolerate tardiness when it came to school.

"I don't know," Spud muttered, scratching his head.

The teacher sighed. "Since you're close with them, you can deliver their homework," she said, handing him three assignment sheets before moving on.

Which meant… Spud had to talk to Trixie.

That was going to be awkward. They hadn't really spoken in a while—not since high school began. Still, something told him this wasn't just about homework. Something significant was about to unfold.

Weird, right?

ஜ۩۞۩ஜ

Trixie Carter staggered into the bathroom, the door slamming shut behind her with a sharp crack. She pressed her palms to the cool porcelain sink, trying to catch her breath. She couldn't stop shaking.

The blast.

The looks.

Rose's face, pale with shock as her precious iPhone fizzled in a shower of sparks, right after that purple beam shot out of Trixie's hand.

Jake's eyes, wide—not with concern, but disbelief. Distance.

Like he didn't recognize her. Like he wasn't sure she was even safe to be around. The way they had backed away from her—not one of them stepping forward.

No one.

Not Rose.

Not Jake.

Trixie's knees buckled slightly as she caught herself on the edge of the sink, her stomach curling into knots. She'd held it together in the hallway. Barely. But now—now she felt like she was crumbling from the inside out.

What the hell is happening to me?

She looked up at the mirror—and screamed.

Her reflection wasn't her.

At first glance, it seemed like her usual self: purple-tipped curls, smooth mocha skin, Hershey-brown eyes. But no—those weren't her eyes. They were deep, violet—so dark they looked like wine-soaked amethysts. They glowed faintly, flickering like a candle in a shadowed room.

And her smile?

It wasn't friendly. It was confident. Mysterious. Almost... amused.

Then the girl in the mirror stepped forward.

But Trixie didn't.

The mirror rippled like water.

"Hey there, sunshine," the reflection said, her voice silk and smoke, smooth but with an edge sharp enough to slice through bone.

Trixie backed away from the sink, panic bubbling in her chest. "Oh hell no."

Her reflection cocked her head and stepped fully into view—and that's when Trixie really saw her.

She was beautiful, but in a haunting, mythical way. Ethereal. Like she didn't belong in this world.

Her curls were longer, fuller—twisting and hovering around her like they had their own mind. Her skin shimmered faintly with constellations that disappeared the moment you tried to focus. Her figure was elegant but strong, cloaked in an iridescent black robe that flowed like liquid starlight. Around her neck hung a heart-shaped charm, pulsing with soft violet light. A wand rested behind one ear, wood polished and ancient-looking, like it had been carved from a tree that remembered everything.

And those eyes.

Those impossible, glowing violet eyes were locked on Trixie.

"Trixie," she said softly. "It's me. Your inner conscience."

Trixie burst into a laugh—sharp and too loud. "Oh. Oh, okay. I'm officially losing it. That's it. Send me to the loony bin. I'm hearing voices. Seeing magical clones. I probably need holy water." She gripped the counter, her knuckles white, as her breathing began to quicken. "No no no, this can't be real—this ain't real," she whispered, voice cracking.

Her knees gave out and she slid to the cold tile floor, hands clawing at her curls, trying to stop the surge of thoughts.

"What's happening to me?" she whispered, tears finally slipping free. "Why me? Why now?"

And for a moment, she just sat there.

Shaking. Shattered. Broken.

Then—a voice. Soft. Steady. "You're not broken, Trixie."

Trixie looked up through the shimmer of tears, breathing hard.

And that's when she really felt it.

The air had changed—thickened, pulsing with an electric charge. Cosmic. The kind of presence that made the tiny hairs on your arms stand up and your bones whisper warnings to your blood.

Inner's aura.

It wasn't just magical. It was colossal.

A slow chill ran down Trixie's spine, not from fear, but reverence. This wasn't some schoolyard hex or flashy spell work. This was ancient. Elemental. Like the universe had cracked open and poured something impossible into this girl's form.

Trixie had felt raw power before.

She'd stood beside Jake mid-shift—his energy flaring like wildfire when he transformed into the American Dragon. She'd felt Rose's pressure, too—razor-sharp and hauntingly beautiful when her Huntress instincts kicked in.

But this?

Even their energies—combined—couldn't touch the sheer gravity of what she felt radiating off Inner. It wasn't just strength. It was depth. Limitless. The kind of force that could bend the stars if it wanted to.

Trixie gripped the edge of the sink tighter.

And Inner?

She just stood there, watching her quietly. No flexing. No theatrics.

Just presence.

After what felt like an eternity, she stepped closer to the mirror, crouching down to meet Trixie's gaze. Her expression had shifted—less smug now. Calmer. Still powerful, but gentle.

"You're awakening," she said. "That power you felt in the hallway? That's been inside you your whole life. Waiting."

"Why?" Trixie croaked. "Why didn't I know?"

Inner said, "It's been buried deep. Suppressed. But now, the seal's cracking. And you're feeling the aftershock."

Trixie's heart thundered. "Suppressed? By what? Why?"

Inner smiled, slow and knowing. "That's a story you're not ready to hear. Not yet. But I'll tell you."

Her glowing eyes gleamed with intensity.

"Midnight. The park near your block. Come alone."

Trixie wiped her eyes, still trembling. "How do I even know you're real?"

Inner tilted her head. "Do you feel real right now?"

Trixie didn't answer. Because honestly? She didn't know anymore.

Inner stepped back. "Midnight, Carter. Don't be late."

With a snap of her fingers and a gust of violet smoke, she vanished from the mirror, leaving behind only a faint shimmer of starlight.

Trixie stayed on the floor for a long moment, staring at her own reflection.

Her real reflection.

Just a sixteen-year-old girl who had no idea who she really was.

ஜ۩۞۩ஜ

Jake stared blankly at his English textbook, eyes scanning a sentence for the sixth time, only to realize—again—he hadn't read a single word. His pencil tapped rhythmically against the desk until—snap. The tip broke. He didn't even flinch.

Miss Hargrove was rambling about literary symbolism, but to Jake, her voice sounded like it was coming from underwater—muted, distant, irrelevant.

All he could see was the moment in the hallway.

Trixie.

Her hands trembling. Her eyes glowing. That beam of bright violet light shooting out of her palm and striking Rose's phone clean out of her hand. One second, Rose had been casually bobbing her head to whatever music was blasting through her earbuds, completely tuned out of reality.

The next?

Her phone exploded in a sizzling flash of light, the screen cracking like lightning had struck it.

All he could see was that moment in the hallway—Trixie's eyes wild, her chest heaving, and that blast of amethyst light erupting from her hand like something out of a dream... or a nightmare. He didn't know what scared him more—the fact that Trixie had done it, or the fact that she'd looked right at him while it happened.

And then she ran. Jake hadn't seen her since. He had searched for her between classes, but she'd disappeared. Not a trace.

Across the classroom, Rose Tyler sat diagonally from him—her desk turned just enough that she could watch him from the corner of her eye. Her earbuds were out now, and her expression was tight. Quiet. Studying him. She hadn't said a word.

Not since they walked into the classroom. Not since the phone incident.

But she was watching.

Jake didn't look at her. Couldn't. Because right now? He didn't have the energy to explain that his mind—and his heart—weren't with her right now. The only person on his mind was the one who'd made the purple beams suddenly appear in the hallway.

Trixie.

All he could think about was finding her.

The bell rang.

Jake was out of his seat before the second chime. He didn't say a word to Rose. Didn't even glance her way. His feet moved before his mind could fully catch up, as if his body already knew where Trixie was.

Somewhere quiet. Somewhere with air. Somewhere to escape the noise, the eyes, and the pressure.

He knew her.

Even now, after years of distance, he still knew her.

He tore through the hallway, dodging classmates like obstacles, ignoring the calls of people trying to say hi or stop him. None of them mattered. Only her.

A left turn at the end of the back corridor. Then—stairs. He gripped the railing, his sneakers squeaking against the worn tiles as he took them two at a time. His heart pounded harder with each level climbed, not just from the exertion, but the fear that he might be wrong. That she wouldn't be there.

But what if he was right?

Then maybe, just maybe...

He could fix something before something dangerous happens.

Jake finally reached the end of the stairway, which led to the door of the school rooftop. As soon as he opened it, the wind hit him first.

Cool. Crisp. Clean.

It wrapped around him like a whisper, tugging at his jacket as he pushed the heavy rooftop door open.

Then he saw her.

Trixie.

She sat near the edge of the rooftop, legs casually crossed, head tilted back toward the sky like she was soaking in the sun's entire existence. Her eyes were closed. Her lips curved ever so slightly at the corners—not a full smile, but something softer. Quieter. Her curly ponytail danced gently in the breeze, coils bouncing with each tender gust of wind like they had their own rhythm. The sunlight painted her brown skin in golden undertones, like it had chosen her as its canvas.

And for a moment—Jake forgot why he came.

Because she looked...

Beautiful.

Not just in the surface-level, "yeah-she kinda-cute" kind of way.

But in a sacred way.

Like the world had paused just long enough for her to exist, untouched and untouchable. He'd never seen her this still. This at peace. It was surreal. Like looking at someone you thought you knew, only to realize there were entire galaxies inside them you'd never explored.

Jake blinked.

And just like that, the spell snapped. He shook himself mentally.

Focus, man. She just went full magical explosion mode in the hallway. This ain't the time to be checking her out.

He cleared his throat awkwardly. Loud enough to announce himself, soft enough not to scare her.

Trixie's eyes opened slowly, heavy-lidded with that relaxed energy that said she really didn't want to be disturbed.

When she saw who it was, her whole vibe shifted, not in panic.

But in irritation.

"Jacob," she said, voice flat and laced with warning.

Jake winced.

Oof. The full government name. That's how you knew she was annoyed.

"Dang, can't a dude get points for tracking down his childhood best friend?" he tried, stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets.

She gave him a slow, unimpressed blink. "You really out here lookin' for extra credit now?"

"I mean, if you were gonna go all glowy-hands and vaporize someone's phone, a text would've been nice," he shot back.

"Oh, so now you care?" she muttered, standing up slowly, brushing invisible dust from her pants. "Lemme guess—you and Rose been talking about me behind my back?"

Jake rolled his eyes. "Seriously? You think I care about a phone more than I care about you?"

"You didn't seem to care much before the light show," she snapped, crossing her arms.

"And you didn't seem to mind disappearing on everyone like you're auditioning for a Netflix mystery series!"

They stood there for a second, breathing heavily. Sparks flying.

Then Jake exhaled, the fire cooling just a little. "I just wanna know what's going on with you, Trix."

Trixie looked away.

The wind kicked up again, swirling through the rooftop like it could sense the tension. She didn't answer. Not yet. But for a moment, the way she looked at him—like she wasn't sure if she could trust him again, or if she even wanted to—it said everything.

"...It's none ya business. I'm good."

Jake bristled. "Of course it's my business! I care about you!"

Trixie sucked on her teeth, her body stiff with tension. "Seriously? After years of acting like I didn't exist?"

Jake froze. "That's not true—"

"Yes it is!" she snapped, eyes starting to glow faintly purple. "You forgot about me, Jake! You and Spud both! You chose her. You chose Rose. And now that I got this freaky magic in me, suddenly I'm interesting again?"

"That's not what this is," Jake whispered, but even he wasn't sure he believed it.

Trixie stepped forward, her voice cracking. "You weren't there when I needed you."

And then she reached out—to push him aside. But the moment her fingers touched his chest—

Everything disappeared.

Gone.

No rooftop. No Jake. No sky.

Just… white.

An endless void of blank light stretching in every direction. No sound. No weight. No time.

Trixie gasped, spinning around. "Jake?! Where the hell am I?!"

Her voice echoed out into infinity, swallowed by the silence.

Then—slowly—color bled into the white. It started at her feet. Flowers. Dozens. Hundreds. Blooming in a wave of impossible beauty. Every hue in the spectrum, and some she didn't even have names for. The air thickened with the scent of sweet petals and warm earth. A breeze swept through the space like it had been waiting just for her. It didn't feel like a dream. It felt like she'd stepped into a memory that hadn't happened yet.

And that's when she saw them.

Two figures beneath a luminous, crystalline tree that glowed with soft light. Its bark shimmered like silver silk, and the fireflies dancing around it glowed violet and gold. The couple stood close—hands intertwined, laughter bubbling between them like champagne.

Trixie's breath caught in her throat.

Because the woman was her.

An older version of herself.

But… transformed.

Her hair was longer, wild curls twisted with glints of amethyst and deep indigo. She wore a gown woven with stardust and shadow, hugging her body like it had been made from moonlight. Her skin glowed with confidence—and magic.

And on her arms?

Tattoos.

Mystical, violet tattoos curled around her hands and wrists, spiraling up her forearms in elegant script and sigils. They pulsed faintly with light, alive with energy. She was breathtaking. She looked like a goddess. A queen. A warrior.

And beside her—Jake.

Older, too. Taller. More defined.

His hair was slightly longer, tousled just enough to look effortless. He wore a sharp, fitted black suit with the collar undone, and no tie. His usual skater-boy charm had evolved into something magnetic—commanding, but soft. His smile was gentle, eyes dark and warm, completely focused on her.

On Trixie.

Trixie couldn't breathe.

The way he looked at her future self... it wasn't the way he looked at Rose. Or anyone else.

It was love. Real. Deep. Certain.

And when her future self reached up to touch his face, he leaned in.

They kissed. Softly. Tenderly. Like nothing else existed in the world but them.

Trixie's stomach dropped.

Her heart clenched so tightly she thought it might rip in half. Because she'd never seen herself that way before. So wanted. So beautiful. So… worthy.

Tears prickled at her eyes.

This was everything she had wanted—silently, secretly. To be powerful. Magical. To be seen. Chosen. Loved.

But it wasn't real. It was a vision. A cruel, impossible fantasy sent to mock her.

She took a step back, but her knees buckled. She clenched her fists, choking on the lump in her throat, staring as her future self whispered something into Jake's ear, and he laughed, pulling her closer. Trixie's voice cracked as she whispered to herself, "Why does this hurt so much?"

And just like that—

The world around her began to blur. Light and color spiraled around her like a storm unraveling, petals torn from stems, fireflies scattering into dust.

The dream shattered.

One minute she was falling.

Then the next minute, she jolted awake with a sharp inhale. A wave of vertigo slammed into her like a tidal surge—her body tensed instinctively, but she didn't move. She couldn't. Her vision steadied just in time to register one thing:

Jake.

His arms were around her. Strong. Steady. Warm.

She blinked hard, heart hammering in her chest. Her face was so close to his that she could see the little flecks of gold in his dark irises. Could feel the warmth of his breath as he stared down at her, frozen in place.

Neither of them spoke.

The world around them fell away. For a moment, it was just this—their eyes locked, their faces inches apart, suspended in something neither of them fully understood.

Then she whispered, barely audible, "Jake?"

His gaze softened. "Trix—"

But she pulled back slightly, not out of fear—just… clarity.

Her voice was quiet, but firm. "Thank you."

Jake furrowed his brow, confused. "For what?"

"For catching me," she said, her lips curling into the smallest smile. The kind that reached her eyes, even if only for a second. Then—softly, like an echo of an old nickname long buried—she added, "Thank you, Jakey-boy."

Jake's heart skipped a beat.

He hadn't heard her call him that in years.

And yet, it still hit like a lightning bolt to the chest.

Before he could respond, she pulled herself from his arms, brushing imaginary dust off her jeans and turning toward the door.

Jake stood there, still half-reaching for her with a grab of her arm.

"Trixie…"

She paused, glancing back just once.

Her voice trembled with resolve.

"I gotta face this on my own."

And with that, she disappeared through the rooftop door, leaving Jake behind with nothing but the echo of her nickname ringing in his ears.

Jakey-boy...

And the way his heart wouldn't stop racing, still eyeballing the spot where she was last standing.

Author's Note: And that's a wrap for today. *Side-eye* ...have you guys guessed what she could be, yet? The answer will be on the next chapter. See you next time.