Days Until it Happens: 4
Crew Placement: ???
An Interview With Everleigh Gloom
“Before we jump right back into it, let’s remind the people where we left off. Everleigh Gloom had just found out about the bounty, and when she didn’t find me at my cabin, she left.”
“…”
“So, tell us, Everleigh—what happened next?”
“Why are we doing so much talking.”
“Because it’s an interview.”
“Abby Blaze, please make sure to include my sigh in your transcript.”
“Well, I’m afraid it’s too late now.”
Everleigh Gloom sighs deeply—again.
“I got that one, though!”
“Okay. So, the next day, one of my minions came to see me. She said she'd come to tell me you’d been captured, that you were being held in an abandoned home in Jaska, and that they were trying to squeeze you for information on the others.”
“Why would she say that?”
"Because the Hollow asked her to. They'd misjudged her loyalty to me, though, and she confessed everything. She said they were starting to suspect me of working against them. It didn’t help that one of them had seen me go looking for you not long after learning about the bounty.”
“So to be clear: they were setting you up?”
“Aye, to see if I’d save you. But now I knew I was being followed. If I asked for help—from Alexander, the Tragers, V—they’d know. And if the one following me didn’t return, that wouldn’t look good either.”
“The people and I thank you for your time, Everleigh.”
There was a question I’d already asked myself since being captured, but I didn’t have an answer. Were all the lads on display Partisans? Their eyes were closed, so I couldn’t tell. But after seeing the initials over Florea’s heart, and after considering the youthful aesthetic of all the frozen lads, and myself without the beard—I wondered if he had a specific type, and I wondered if that type involved having grey eyes.
So, change of plans. When Florea grew closer, I ran my fingers over the tattoo on his chest. I lingered there, hesitating purposely, before looking up at him and asking, “Who’s SV?”
I knew I was risking an emotional outburst, but primarily, I was hoping he’d give me an answer of some kind—even if it wasn’t pleasant. Secondarily, I wanted to extinguish the fire in his pants so I wouldn’t have to follow through on my offer.
Interestingly enough, he didn’t react at all.
“Well,” I said, smiling playfully before kissing the tattoo, “my last initial’s an F in case you’re considering getting some new work.”
There it finally was, mates. Florea reached around and clutched the hair at the back of my head. It was uncomfortable, but it wasn’t painful. He looked me square in the eyes then.
“No one has ever made me feel the way he did.”
“And that’s my fault?” While otherwise maintaining eye contact, I side-glanced toward a small collection of frozen men posed and gathered in a social circle. “That’s their fault?”
“I didn’t say they didn’t make me feel anything.” Florea stepped over to one of the frosted enclosures, clearing a window in front of the man’s face. “This one was so shy, he made me feel like a boy again.” He moved to the next—that one was wearing a top hat. “This one almost escaped. I’ve modified the door since then. But he made me feel fear. And this one? He was such a blubbering mess when he came into the shop, I couldn’t even sleep with him, but he triggered in me compassion. And when I look at my collection, I remember it all: the thousand ways a single man once made me feel.”
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“I don’t think I’ve met anyone like that,” I said. “Anyone that makes me feel all those ways. He sounds really special, and I think you were very lucky to have that,” I said. “What was his name?”
The temperature around Florea dropped, and the room echoed with the cracks and crackles of ice freezing beyond frozen.
“Sorry,” I answered. “I thought it might help to talk about it, but I can see now it’s still fresh.”
If I was right, it was over eight hundred years fresh. Again, he considered me in silence.
“So, what about me, then?” I asked. “How do I make you feel?”
Florea brought his lips close to mine, hovering there for two, two and a half, three seconds. “How do you make me feel?” he repeated.
I nodded, or at least, I think I did. I felt sluggish and weird. My eyelids grew heavy, and I was worried that at any moment my legs might give out from under me.
They did.
And the last two things I remember before I crumpled to the floor were: one, the feeling of his lips against mine, and two, the answer to my question.
“You make me feel annoyed.”
Days Until it Happens: 3
Crew Placement: ???
I woke up and realized I wasn’t dead before I could open my eyes. Florea’s voice phased in and out.
“—your fault, and—” he said.
Was he talking to me? Was he talking to himself? His collection? I tried opening my eyes, but it was like they were no longer connected to my brain.
“—abandoned me—,” he said. “—dead, and I loved him,” he said. “—anything for—”
My hearing was coming into focus slowly but surely, and I didn’t want to draw attention to the fact that I was awake, so I regulated my heartbeat, slow and steady, stabilized my breathing, and I stopped trying to open my eyes. But the voice that spoke next was deep and resonant, and it was unmistakable.
Only, I’d never heard it with that exact tone before.
Mates, The Law had arrived, and The Law was pissed.
“My brother didn’t abandon you. He died with a broken heart—you did that.”
Whatever was going on, I had to see it for myself. I’d been propped up against a frozen arranging table, and my head had lolled forward while I was sleeping. I tilted it back, slowly, slowly, slowly, little by little. My lids were still heavy, but had softened enough that I could peek between my eyelashes.
“And you destroyed him,” Florea answered. “You didn’t deserve him—you never did.”
Wearing his burgundy suit, The Law wrapped his hand around Florea’s neck. It was entirely a power move, because it obviously wouldn’t kill him. The veins in his hands protruded as he squeezed. “You don’t have to tell me my brother was a better man than I’ll ever be. You claim to love him, yet this is how you honour him?” Zack brought his face close to Florea’s, the same way Florea had done to me. “I made you. And I will end you.”
The Law released his grip, if only to let him answer.
Florea coughed and cleared his throat. “Since when does Zacharias Vonsinfonie give a shit about Sebastian’s fodder?”
Zack looked to me then, and I wanted so badly to run up and give him a hug. Or a kiss. Or marry him, really. But for the time being, I continued playing dead. The look in his eyes was—
Time stopped for everything but the song, but this wasn’t a soothing melody like the ones I’d heard before. This was an angry, agitated march. I couldn’t move now, even if I wanted to, and neither could Florea. The steady rhythm pulsed through my body. The Law approached. He took my hand and snapped his fingers—not rudely in front of my face, just a snap. The song stopped and time resumed. For me, anyhow.
Florea was still frozen.
Zack's expression was stern, relaxing only long enough to let me know he wasn’t mad at me. He spoke quietly. “Home isn’t safe.”
I nodded several times before he helped me up and escorted me to the door. Zack waved his hand toward it, and it burst open. But he didn’t wait for me to leave before he narrowed in on Florea again. It wasn’t as though I wanted to be there any longer than I had to, but I reckoned I was safe now, and I needed to see—
One minute, Florea was frozen in time, and the next minute, he was still frozen, but he was soaking wet. The water on his body began to crystallize. It started at his toes, and it grew, and it grew, making that same unnerving cracking sound I’d heard when Florea was refreezing his displays. Before I knew it, The Florist was now encased in ice from his feet to his waist. It was only a matter of time for the rest. His eyes were open, and he still couldn’t move to close them.
Zack looked back at me, “Go!” he said.
The man may have had to tell me twice, but he didn’t have to tell me thrice. Down a short corridor and at the top of the stairs, I climbed the ladder and opened the hatch into the flower shop.
My clothes and my bag were behind the counter. Nothing had been removed.
Short story: I left.
It was night by the time I arrived at the Widow’s Peak, and I let myself in the back. I’d almost forgotten I hadn't changed yet and was still wearing Florea’s suit under my jacket, at least until Ivana looked up from her ledger, appraising me with a quizzical expression.
I don’t know if it was the rush of it all, or the fact that I hadn’t even had the chance to process where I’d spent the past few days, or what had actually happened to me while I was being held captive in that cellar. But I lost it. Right there, in front of V—my five hundred year old girlfriend-but-not-girlfriend who I’d never seen get shaken about anything. The sobs came on in waves.
Now I can only imagine what she must have been thinking, but V didn’t say a word. She just put her arms around me, hugged me tightly, and let me cry. My heart ached, but it soared at the same time. She made me feel safe, relieved, happy, excited, aroused, nervous—the thousand word list goes on. The way she made me feel whole was how she made me feel normal. So, that’s when it hit me, and it hit me hard, and suddenly I felt like I’d betrayed myself, like I’d betrayed her.
Mates, that was the moment I realized I was in love with V.