Ten - Part 1

by Sin Ribbon

  The redhead follows his gaze to the passersby. “Would it have changed their minds?”

  Madison’s face sours. The air hisses through his nose as the emotion wells up within him. “No ... probably not.”

  “Y’know, I probably said everything to my parents that you wish you could’ve said to yours. Feels good at first, letting it all out, and then it doesn’t. You start to feel disgusted that you let someone put such a hatred in you.”

  The air catches in Madison’s lungs.

  “You seem like a really sweet kid,” she continues. “Maybe it’s just not your nature to say those kinds of things.”

  The teen whips to Orion with watery eyes, lip quivering.

  She reaches across the table and puts her hand over his. “I’ve found that the best revenge is just living your life, and if you need someone to practice assertiveness with, you can scream at me.”

  Madison smiles through his tears—a wash of hope, pride, and anguish overwhelming him all at once. “I’m really glad I met you.”

  “You can thank Sirius for that.” The dog jolts at the mention of his name. He sits up and moves to rest his head on the teen’s lap, doe-eyes pleading for attention. “Seems he knew you needed some help.”

  Madison laughs and strokes the pup’s head. “He’s the bestest boy. Give him extra treats for me.”

  “Oh, I will.”

  As the youth pets the grateful pup, a sobering realization dawns on him. His face falls. “So where do I go from here?”

  The redhead tenses at the burden of reality and gnaws the inside of her mouth. “That’s a good question.” She pulls out her cell phone and taps at the screen for a few moments. “There’s a youth shelter less than five miles away. How about I drive you?”

  Tentative, Madison nods.

  “Hey, it’ll be okay. It takes some serious balls to do what you did, and that strength is gonna see you through.”

  The teen can’t help but laugh, his spirit warming with her encouragement. A gleeful Sirius joins in by licking his hand, and for the first time, Madison feels a light of hope.

  “Thank you, Orion.”

  ◊ ◊ ◊

  “I’m sorry,” the gruff voice of a glassy, middle-aged woman replies. “It’s a thirty-day limit while we find you a spot in a group home.”

  Madison clenches his jaw. He pushes away from the desk and looks to Orion standing outside, Sirius ever at her side.

  “Miss, are you staying or not?”

  He rubs his forehead to numb the pang of frustration at yet another misidentification. “Sure,” he retorts, irritation surfacing. “It’ll give me some time to think at least.”

  “All right. You’ll need to fill out these forms and have an interview to determine if you’re truly at risk and what options are available to you.” She hands Madison a clipboard with a small stack of paperwork.

  The apprehensive youth takes the clipboard and returns to his newfound friend waiting outside.

  “Orion?” He pushes open the door and steps outside.

  “Yeah, what’s up?” Her expression deflates at the sight of Madison’s uneasiness. “Everything okay?”

  “Fine, just ... I’ll be fine here. Thank you. It’s a little tougher than I thought is all.”

  She gives him a gentle squeeze. “Hey, you’ve got my number now. I’m always up for grabbing junk food again.”

  Madison forces a smile. “I’ll take you up on that.” A heavy weight pushes down on his shoulders, a suffocating dread that battles against his shining gratitude.

  Orion strokes his head. “I know it’s painful now, but it won’t last forever. You’ll find your path.”

  He nods, burying his face in the redhead’s embrace. Her radiating optimism is all that he has, and he prays for the ability to mirror her sentiment.

  ~ NINE ~

  Sebastian

  The watchful eye of the waning moon hangs in the dark, flickering between scattered clouds. In the Pennsylvanian countryside, a Greyhound bus heads west on Interstate 76, passing early spring fields, wooden barns, and pastures. The silence stretches out into the night.

  On worn, aging upholstery, Sebastian shifts in search of comfort while Allister dozes next to him. The half-hour break in Harrisburg did little to alleviate the young Brit’s backache. A handful of sleeping passengers occupy the front half of the bus while the brothers sit near the back. The cold, mechanical presence of the driver hardly quells Sebastian’s isolation amidst the sparse landscape.

  Across the aisle sleeps the lovely Riya who has somehow found rest despite the lumpy seats and musty smell. The young Brit stares at her, captivated by her eclectic mesh of punk and bohemian. Ebony hair tumbles around her diamond-shaped face, accentuated by elegant cheekbones. Her gold piercings flicker between the glimpses of moonlight in the dimly lit cabin. Despite her undeniable beauty, he finds her confidence most alluring.

  “Why don’t you just talk to her?” Allister’s sudden intrusion seizes the swooning Brit. He whips to his yawning counterpart who meets his gaze with bored, half-open eyes.

  “What?!” Realizing his voice is too loud, Sebastian lowers it to a harsh whisper. “She’s asleep!”

  “I meant tomorrow. Christ. Why don’t you get some sleep?”

  “I’m amazed that after years on a luxurious pillowtop and down comforter you can sleep so easily on these agonizing—” He beats the back cushion with his elbows as he attempts to align his spine. “Not even sure you can call them cushions anymore.”

  Allister chuckles and leans back to shut his eyes. “Guess I’m not as much of a rich boy as you thought.”

  The junior Brit sighs. His eyes wander out the window to gaze at the nearly full moon peeking out behind the ominous cloud cover.

  “In fact,” Allister continues, “nothing is like you thought, and it never will be again.”

  Unsettled, Sebastian turns to find that his brother is not himself. The blond sits upright, no longer slack and comfortable but poised with rigid demeanor. An odd reflection flashes in his eyes, but in the low light, it’s difficult to see clearly.

  “Allister?”

  Outside, the moon moves into the open sky, illuminating the cabin to reveal the haunting, pitch-black eyes that have replaced his brother’s brilliant blue hue. Sebastian reels back, a sharp pang of air filling his lungs. A subtle grin curls across Allister’s lips, as if expecting his brother’s horror. His irises swell like black pools of oil and meet Sebastian’s gaze with adamant intensity.

  This is no trick of the light.

  “Young Sebastian.” His voice is uncharacteristically soft. Allister reaches out his hand and strokes the side of his younger brother’s cheek. “I’m looking forward to it.” The words snake out of his mouth with a cold hiss.

  The young Brit grips the armrests of his chair, tendons raised and trembling. Every internal alarm screams at him to run, but he can’t break away from the consuming abyss swirling in Allister’s eyes. He’s paralyzed by their depth, by what he senses beyond that leering gaze and coy smirk—something dark and godlike musing at the folly of man.

  This cannot be Allister.

  Without warning, the overhead lights flicker on. Allister lunges for his brother and grabs his face. His palm suffocates Sebastian’s vision and thrusts him backward. The young Brit cries out—the only bid for help that he’s able to make—but in the midst of his wails, a tremendous flash of light blasts the imposter away.

  Sebastian gasps as he awakens, immediately jerking to his older counterpart who sleeps in the seat next to him. Allister’s mouth hangs open, his head slumped to the side as if none of the horrors from a moment ago had transpired.

  Bullets of cold sweat pour down Sebastian’s forehead. Still clutching the armrests, he forces his hands to relax. The moon has disappeared behind the cloud cover, but the illuminated cabin offers some comfort to the panting Brit.

  He wipes his brow and takes a moment to calm himself.

  “You okay?” Riya’s fe
minine voice snaps Sebastian to her, his turmoil draining at the sight of her wide, concerned eyes.

  “Yeah, just a nightmare.” He smiles to bury the dread looming in the back of his mind.

  She pats the seat next to her, welcoming his presence. “Aw, want to tell me about it?”

  Desperate for some friendly company, he crosses the aisle and plops down beside her, too shaken to be intimidated. “Not much to tell. I saw some kind of ...” He glances at Allister. “Creature, I suppose. Thank you for your concern, but don’t feel obliged to be conciliatory.”

  “Whoa,” Riya chuckles. “Someone went to private school, or do all Brits talk like that?”

  He shrinks, sheepish. “The former.”

  “You don’t have to be embarrassed.” She nudges him with her elbow.

  He melts at the gesture of affection and with the new bolster of confidence, leans in, mockingly seductive. “In that case, I also know how to correctly use the word verisimilitude.”

  “That’s hot,” she jokes, the two sharing a laugh. The moment of levity softens the young Brit, his anxiety dissipating with Riya’s beaming sincerity. Her sparkling kindness is enough to reassure him of his excellent taste in women.

  “So wealthy, influential family, I take it?”

  His muscles tense at the reminder of his familial situation, and he rubs the back of his neck to loosen them. “That’s right,” he replies. “Dad wanted the best for his boys. Or, the best for himself at least. Business empire didn’t leave much room in his heart for anything other than a proper heir.”

  Riya raises her eyebrows, connecting the dots. Sebastian’s joyless tone and slumped shoulders provide enough clues as to the kind of relationship the boys had with their father and the dynamic it may have created between them. Recognizing the empathy in her eyes, it occurs to him that she too may be familiar with living in the shadow of a powerful man.

  “Is that why you’re going to Pittsburgh?” she asks, words weighted with pensive interest.

  “You’ll laugh.” He smirks, warmth returning. “But we actually flipped a coin.”

  She shifts forward, intrigued. “Between Pittsburgh and what?”

  “Philadelphia. My brother and I are on a sort of ... pilgrimage.” Sebastian pauses, conflicted as the reasons wash over him.

  “Running away, huh?” she muses.

  He exhales with a somber but honest chuckle. “You could say that. Touring around, seeing what this country has to offer. The two cities seemed similar enough, so we left it to chance.”

  “Wow, you really don’t know much about the States, do you?”

  “In my defense, America is quite large. Texas alone could swallow all of the U.K. along with a few more European countries.”

  She bites her bottom lip. “Right. You’ve got me there.”

  “There are places of interest though. Phipps Conservatory. The Carnegie museums ... but I suspect—though he’d never admit it—Allister wants to get as far away from London as possible. Fate seemed to agree.”

  She smiles, sharing his sentiment.

  Without thinking, he parrots the subject back to her. “What about you?”

  Her reaction to the question mimics his own, a body withdrawing from a reality its reluctant to face. Sebastian immediately tightens his lips with regret.

  “I’m running away too, though not exactly by choice. I was, um ... kicked out.”

  The Brit’s eyes widen, sympathy engraving his wrinkling brow.

  “My family and I emigrated from India,” she elaborates, “but they moved here when I was a baby. Seems I grew up too free-spirited for their tastes.”

  He traces over her deflating form, no doubt from the burden of hardship. “The tattoos, the piercings, all too much for them?”

  “And the fact that I like vaginas. That didn’t help.”

  In a matter of seconds, Sebastian blushes to the color of a turnip. He’s torn between shameful interest and heartfelt disappointment.

  Riya erupts with laughter. The pitiful Brit awkwardly searches for an appropriate facial expression to her surprising confession. “Lighten up!” She slaps a reassuring hand against his shoulder. “I’m bisexual, and besides, you’re not exactly an expert in subtlety.”

  A guilty whimper of a laugh is all Sebastian can muster. The poor boy may never speak to another woman again.

  “Come again?” Riya interjects, tone wry and probing.

  “I didn’t say anything,” Sebastian mutters. He wonders if any of the surreptitious images that flashed through his head somehow escaped into public view.

  “Uh-huh.” She grins, unconvinced but nevertheless entertained. “Better watch those thoughts of yours.”

  “Eh?!” Sebastian does a double-take. For a moment, his paranoia seems substantiated.

  “What’s that face for? C’mon. Since you’re so open to chance, let’s do a tarot reading for our adventure!” Riya grabs her bag and begins rummaging through it.

  Nervous as he is confused, Sebastian sets his concerns aside. “Tarot reading? Aren’t those the cards that are supposed to foretell the future?”

  “Actually, no.” Riya finds her deck and snaps off the rubber band to begin shuffling. “It’s a form of divination, yes, but I use the cards for personal guidance. They have a way of helping you face the things you’re afraid of, issues you might be ignoring, options you hadn’t considered. That sort of thing.”

  Sebastian eyes the cards as she mixes them together. The designs are colorful and vivid with artwork reminiscent of Impressionism. His interest piques from their shared aesthetic alone.

  “I like to draw a card whenever I’m at a crossroad, which has been a lot lately,” she proclaims with a self-deprecating sigh. “Here. Cut the deck.”

  She hands the stack to Sebastian who divides it in half and returns it. She shuffles the two halves a final time, then sets the neatly arranged pile in her palm.

  “Draw one.”

  Curious, Sebastian pulls the top card and stares at the exotic imagery. “Huh. The Tower? What does that mean?”

  Riya tenses and grabs his hand to examine the card. “Draw another one.”

  “What, are you vetoing this one?” Sebastian chuckles, unsure if Riya’s serious tone is genuine.

  “Just want more clarity.”

  The Brit draws a second card. “Two of Cups.”

  “What?! No way!” Riya snatches the card out of his hand. “Unbelievable. Twice in one day?”

  “You drew this card earlier?”

  The raven-haired woman nods, awe-struck by the image before her. Her gaze shifts to The Tower still in Sebastian’s hand. “The Tower ... the symbol of upheaval. Catastrophic change.” Sebastian frowns with apprehensive dread, but Riya raises a hand to reassure him. “Your life can be turned upside down, but often the change is for the best. A painful period but also a breakthrough.” She scrutinizes the card, a burning tower crumbling to pieces. It’s unclear to Sebastian whether Riya is referring to him or herself.

  “That’s quite the card. I admit it seems to describe my situation perfectly. I’m impressed. What about the Two of Cups?”

  “Um, well,” Riya hesitates. Now it’s her turn for flushing cheeks. Hopeful, Sebastian brightens. “It means a new relationship, connection ... romance.”

  “Really?” The young Brit fails to conceal his excitement. He cannot stop himself from grinning at the thought that some prospect may exist for him with Riya.

  “Don’t get ahead of yourself,” she adds, shoving against him with playful cockiness. Sebastian takes her lighthearted gesture to mean his chances are not entirely bleak. Avoiding eye contact, the young woman seizes The Tower from his hand and shuffles the cards back into deck.

  “Thank you,” Sebastian replies.

  Riya continues shuffling. “For what?”

  “For making this journey such an interesting one.”

  She pauses, fighting the growing smile on her face. “Happy to help.”

  ~ TEN ~


  Thane

  Behold. A snake-like whisper from a voice in the void. Nothing to discern in this infinite blackness except a knowing—a presence separate from himself, waiting in the dark.

  I stand at the door and knock ...

  Sirius’ intrusive barks jerk Thane from his half-sleep. Lamps still on, his eyes flutter open to the striking image of Andromeda pinned to the ceiling. The galaxy’s great expanse of stars dances in a hypnotizing vortex that compels him to return to his slumber, but Sirius persists. With a groan, Thane pushes himself upright and checks his phone for the time: 1:33 a.m.

  Dragging himself out of bed and into the hallway, a whimpering Sirius rushes to his side as soon as he opens the bedroom door. The pup paces circles around Thane’s legs, taking refuge in his master’s presence.

  “What’s up, bud?”

  The shepherd-mix nuzzles Thane’s pantleg, and he attempts to calm the anxious canine with a few supportive pats.

  Thane moves into the kitchen to grab some water while Sirius remains glued to his side. He continues to whine, staring up at Thane with gaping eyes. The dog’s unease seems to match his own; uncertainty, skepticism, and guilt all compete for dominance in the tired man.

  Sirius laps the dining table and stops at Thane’s feet, eyes still pleading, before trotting into the living room. He paws at the front door.

  “Okay, okay. I’m coming.”

  Cutting his drink short, Thane strides into the living room but freezes the moment he flips on the light. The front door hangs ajar.

  He immediately moves to Orion’s room and pushes the cracked door open. Sirius whines as Thane peers in to confirm his roommate’s absence. The quiet tapping of rain drops begins to thump against her bedroom window. Scanning the room, he tenses when he notices her wallet and phone have been left behind on the nightstand.

  Fears mounting, he checks the bathroom as well. Empty. He pauses on his way through the kitchen to take a final look around the apartment. Sirius whines in the corner of the living room, prompting Thane to notice the cello that was left behind.