Hi, everyone! I just want to make a quick post in case it helps someone.. I went on Yaz 6 months ago and it changed my life. My biggest problem was agitation and short temper, which only ever faded once I got my period and would come back within 10 days again I did a hormone test and they found I was low in progesterone so I went on Yaz. I no longer have every day agitation, my depression is gone, I am for the first time in my life consistent with the gym and have way more energy. I wont be using Yaz long term as it is known to cause blood clots if used long term but for now it’s the best thing ever.

Welcome My fiancé bacc to the game 🌊 definitely gone miss his curls I had to sneak these pics his hair grows quick but it’s coarse - usually do taper fades to low fades- he said he send more pics of waves his like snake like very wavy
Creole from Louisiana / black men age : 26 Hair type/color : 3c/4A brown to blondish

I'm pretty young and feminine looking. Pale, smooth skin, no facial hair, very less muscles, underweight, neck length wavy hair, and clinically low T.
Whenever I see any college tour video, I see all these chapris who are not interested in education or these uncle aunties who look like that they are 30 year old. Full beard, fat or muscular, fancy haircut, wrinkles, loose skin etc.
Even when I gave entrance exam, I observed same people. I literally creeped out when they initiated small talk with me. Only on day of CS exam, I met someone like me, but not as "shy" as he initiated a small talk with me but I never do with anyone.
While I'm trying to gain weight and muscles, it's not that easy and might take a year. I am also 179 CM so it's slightly hard for me to gain muscles.
I don't want facial/body hair either, so I shave my whole body like once in two week..
Anyone else?
Edit: I don't have social anxiety disorder. The only reason I don't start conversations is for safety.

I'm pretty young and feminine looking. Pale, smooth skin, no facial hair, very less muscles, underweight, neck length wavy hair, and clinically low T.
Whenever I see any college tour video, I see all these chapris who are not interested in education or these uncle aunties who look like that they are 30 year old. Full beard, fat or muscular, fancy haircut etc.
Even when I gave entrance exam, I observed same people. I literally creeped out when they initiated small talk with me. Only on day of CS exam, I met someone like me, but not as "shy" as he initiated a small talk with me but I never do with anyone.
While I'm trying to gain weight and muscles, it's not that easy and might take a year. I am also 179 CM so it's slightly hard for me to gain muscles.
I don't want facial/body hair either, so I shave my whole body twice a month.
Anyone else?

I'm pretty young and feminine looking. Pale, smooth skin, no facial hair, very less muscles, underweight, neck length wavy hair, and clinically low T.
Whenever I see any college tour video, I see all these chapris who are not interested in education or these uncle aunties who look like that they are 30 year old. Full beard, fat or muscular, fancy haircut, wrinkles, loose skin etc.
Even when I gave entrance exam, I observed same people. I literally creeped out when they initiated small talk with me. Only on day of CS exam, I met someone like me, but not as "shy" as he initiated a small talk with me but I never do with anyone.
While I'm trying to gain weight and muscles, it's not that easy and might take a year. I am also 179 CM so it's slightly hard for me to gain muscles.
I don't want facial/body hair either, so I shave my whole body like once in two week..
Anyone else?
Edit: I don't have inferiority complex. I intentionally wrote the post in such a way as I don't appear to be like I'm bragging. I actually look down on those chapris, in my mind. There are few other people that I look down on, which I won't disclose.
Also I don't have social anxiety disorder. The only reason I don't start conversations is for safety, and because it hurts my ego if I do.

My husband and I have been married for almost 4 years and we have a 3 year old son. I'm very extroverted and have a lot of friends while my husband is very introverted and only has 3 friends who all happen to be female. Over the past year and a half, he got very close to one of them but I never put the kibosh on it because he has so few friends. Just at the beginning of May he had a couple nights where he did not come home because he was at her house. On the second night that he did not come home, I waited up for him and confronted him when he came in the front door. I gave him the ultimatum to either stop talking to her or to leave. At first he decided to stop talking to her and to work on our relationship. However, after a few days, he decided it wasn't worth it after we had done a silly marriage workbook and I just ended up asking him about accountability. I wanted to know what kept him from doing this again or what kept him from abandoning me when something more so severe in my life may be going on like ill physical or mental health. He has also done other things like spend $500 on a stripper on my last birthday when he was on a work trip out of town, and then after I had my son he racked up more than $800 in bills on only fans. He thought about it for a moment and told me that he was only going to hurt me again and again, and that there was no reason to try. I ended up convincing him to stay and that it would be worth trying for to keep stuff together for our family.
However, a couple days later I caught him messaging her again. I confronted him and he told me that while he loved me, he wasn't romantically in love with me. That I wasn't meeting his needs and I didn't understand him like she did. At this point we were still having sex at least twice a week. I helped him get his green card. I helped him get his license back. I bought him a new car every time he wrecked one. And I just helped him get into college. It was also smoking anywhere from 100 to $300 worth of weed every week, and I was just taking it on the chin and figuring out our finances around it. At this point, I just asked him to leave. He cried and moaned while I made him pack a bag, and was upset that I was asking him to leave which would prevent him from being there for our son. However, I told him if he remained I wouldn't be able to be there for our son, and that's what mattered the most to me.
He ended up leaving and staying with his stepdad. According to his mother and his sister, he's been taking money from his dad because he said I was still receiving his paychecks (which I am not) and that he has been into his dad's medical cabinet to try to take painkillers and his dad's diabetic needles. The girl that he is hooking up with has mental health issues and with drug usage. He also has prior issues with drug usage. He's also been switched psych medications four times in the past year.
At one point he offered to reconcile and just get to come home by stopping seeing her. But I told him that there was way more that we would need to work on before he could come home. He ended up going back to her and then trying to come back to me. And then just yo-yoing between the two of us for several weeks before he eventually decided to just pick her. He's now trying to blame the end of our marriage on me for being a "mean bitch who is no fun" and that I'm not accountable for my actions in ending this. However, I had overlooked so much of his previous bad behavior to remain in a relationship with him so my son would have a father. I tried to get him to help me understand what I had done wrong, and he told me that I was impossible to communicate with which is why he never communicated his needs to me.
He has also told me that he doesn't want any more kids, and that he doesn't believe in God. He told me that co-parenting our son will be fine, even though I've told him how much my parents divorce at a similar age deeply ended up wounding me as a child. He thinks just because he's going to be around some. It's better than his father who wasn't around at all. However, I told him sometimes it's more painful to have your dad two cities away living a life with a new family than it is to have an immovable image completely gone from your life.
He talks about co-parenting our son, but he is only seeing him a handful of times in the month that he's been gone. Most of those occasions have been at my suggestion and I have also been present. He's also stood us up once because he told me he had gone to the woods to contemplate suicide instead of meeting up with us. He doesn't call our son every night even though a FaceTime call with him would probably only last like 2 to 5 minutes. He's only sent me $320 to deal with expenses in the month that he has been gone along with getting our son a haircut. At each of these meetings he starts off by being horrible to me and rude. By the end, he's softened and does whatever he can to spend as much time with me and my son before he leaves. Even after my son goes to bed he wants to hang out and smoke a joint together. However, this last time he came to drop our son off, he got really sore at me because one of our mutual friends had sent him pictures of a conversation I had with them. In the conversation, I had Said that my husband and this girl are in a codependent cabal, and the only thing that they have in common are poor morals and bad teeth. He was upset by that but all of it was true. Now he refuses to see me or communicate with me. He told me that he wants to be friends but I can't say mean stuff like that. However, he says a bunch of mean things to me all the time about me being a horrible wife and how perfect this new woman is. Both of us want to be friends for the benefit of our son, but I just don't think I have it in me. He always says things to me to make me feel low, and he acts like I should just be over it even though it hasn't even been a month yet.
My life has completely changed and I feel so much grief over the life I thought I had, the partner I thought I had, and the future that I thought I had. It feels like a devil has crawled into his skin and is walking around pretending to be him. I feel so much resentment being left to pick up the pieces of our life and to hold everything together for our son. He gets to go run away and fuck someone new, while I have to be strong and stoic. I don't understand how I can be friends with someone who's hurt me so much and has cared so little. He's going to miss out on so much of our son's life and he doesn't even care. He's just convinced himself that life with me would be miserable. Even though we had so many good times together, and I had always tried my hardest to make him happy and to make sure our family's needs were met. He didn't even want to go to therapy and he didn't even want to try to start things over by dating me again. I'm just so disappointed.
I don't know where to go from here. I am definitely talking to a divorce lawyer. I worry about whether or not he's using drugs, and whether or not he'd be safe around our son. I definitely don't want this woman around our son and he doesn't see the big deal with it. Should I just cut him out of my life? Should I cut him out of my son's life? Should I try to be friends with him? It's all so hard because it's just all so shocking and I still love him. Part of me wants to reconcile but also part of me is starting to realize how easy my life is without him around. He's also also kept trying to make reconciliation not an option. What should I do?

TL;DR: Shooters have notoriously had a difficult time staying alive while under Nexon's banner.
Go ahead and spam your downvotes, but if you're someone that actually likes to engage in conversation, I urge you to read on.

Intro -- Personal

For starters, The Finals is my favorite FPS game to come out in the last 5 years. I've played since the second CBT and have loved just about every second of it. Prior to my time with The Finals, I was an Apex Legends nerd since release. The pro match hacking incident in Apex Legends is what pushed me over the edge; an edge that I was already barely hanging onto after 3+ years of awful decision-making, balancing, bugs, and tone-deaf MTX offerings. And going even further back 13-ish years (my time with League of Legends), I played Combat Arms for about 4 years and ran a very successful Guild.
Keep Combat Arms in mind for a little later.

The Final(s) Nail In The Coffin

HYENAS
At the time of the first The Finals trailer, HYENAS had been running in closed testing for about 8 months and was luke warm, to say the least. I actually find it very eerie how similar the HYENAS and The Finals were in terms of theming: heisters/contestants fighting for cash in arenas and needing to 'Cash Out'. HYENAS was a game I had on my radar for a bit and was semi-excited to tell my friends about because Apex Legends was in a really rough position and was growing stale in it's growth - we were looking for something else. It had some interesting movement mechanics, which myself and my friends were enamored by in Apex Legends, but nothing too crazy. I was hopeful. After about 2 testing runs, I phased out of HYENAS pretty hard and lost interest as it wasn't really what we were hoping it would be.
Breaking Convention
Fast forward to that 8-month mark, and the trailer for The Finals launches. It's this over-the-top explosive FPS with some crazy arena gimmicks, and holy shit it was pretty. The destruction was incredible, and the developers were touting server-side destruction so that it would be consistent for all players. The gameplay and graphics looked so familiar, and as it turned out, it was made by a bunch of ex-DICE devs. Count me in. Oh, and these were the same cats that released that short but impressive looking trailer for their other game Arc Raiders? Exceptionally promising pedigree, and an already promising duo of upcoming projects to boot. Couldn't be more excited. However... to this day, I don't know if I was getting struck by the Mandella Effect, but I swear I didn't see Nexon's publisher tag in the first few trailers. In any case, by the end of my first beta test, I was well aware and to say I was concerned would be an understatement.
The Good
Embark have done a phenomenal job at creating something unique in a market of Battle Royales and old titans slapping each other with wet noodles on bi-annual cycles. The Finals is insanely unique. Whereas a lot of games that try to break conventions like this tend to have iterations across many years and multiple development studios up to an eventual peak, the formula of The Finals feels like the final iteration of a genre that has never existed. Performance is top notch, the game does what it needs to do graphically and still has additional bells and whistles, and it had a near flawless release (all things considered). Were you to ask me, I could not imagine another game like The Finals existing in it's current exceptionally polished state. The next game like The Finals, whenever it comes out, will likely be exceptionally different. However...
The Bad
Lightning eventually breaks out of the bottle and disappears forever. The Finals, in all of its game design competency, has major issues for lasting in a market like today's and thankfully, for once, it's not actually due to it's MTX implementation and a greedy publisher (I say that cautiously, more on that later). No - the issue that The Finals has and why it's on a trajectory for shuttering is that it has almost zero skill expression. Let me explain.
Were The Finals released 12-ish years ago, it'd be a behemoth of an IP by now and likely would have changed the trajectory of the market in terms of player and audience capture. What do I mean by that? Well, lets look at games 10+ years ago - specifically FPS'. What was the primary appeal and objective? The appeal was an easy to pick-up game which allowed you to get into the action almost immediately. The objective? Click heads faster than your opposition. Game design around that time was rather linear in how it delivered the objective mechanism to the player. Give player gun, player click button; happy player. Competitive games have all existed, but competition now is vastly different.
Today, skill expression is the name of the game. It's not enough to click heads the fastest - that's not how you get your high anymore.
For DayZ, it was a masterful bait and deception. For PUBG, it was about maneuvering long before your opponent did and mastering weapon control. For Fortnite, it was about 'cranking 90s' and building the most optimal structure AROUND your opponent. For Overwatch, it was about chaining a series of abilities together into a combo that 6 players couldn't predict. For Apex Legends, it's about mastering movement in such a way that your opponent gets whiplash. Hell, even in Counterstrike - a game about holding angles - it's about mastering grenade throws.
The Finals... does none of that. You're not baiting anyone around fixed objectives. You're not out maneuvering when spawns are fixed. While structures exist around you, they serve more as an element of chaos than necessarily for control. There's no abilities to string together in some wombo-combo. Grenades are static and don't have a lot of physical attributes to facilitate against the environment like physics. And lastly, and this one hurts me the most because I was absolutely a sweaty try-hard in Apex Legends that spent hours in the shooting range practicing; while there is speed and movement in the game, you're not breaking the game's engineering to manipulate your movement in unintended ways - ways that become SO common... that the developer themselves puts those exploits in future season trailers for the game making them canon mechanics.
In other words, the skill ceiling is about as high as the desk players sit at to play the game. If you can move a mouse or a controller and click buttons, you're in. You just need to get familiar with the maps and weapons and... that's about it. :/
The Ugly
Don't believe me? Lets get numerical. Go look at Twitch stats for The Finals. Now, Twitch isn't an arbiter of truth in terms of a game's performance metrics, but it shows what players are watching. I'll save you the click: The Finals (at the time of writing) is the 215th most watched game. It's a whole 20 rows down on the front page. Now, players love watching high-skill play, but this also shows that even casual viewers still prefer casual games over The Finals. There is no external appeal. As much as I love this game, I'm not above a good joke, so I just wanted to highlight the irony of The Finals being a gameshow... and not being very popular as a show. Lol.
With all of the above said, the game is still in a relatively good position at this moment. Despite having very low player counts (no, I'm not the kind of person to spell doom for a game just because it's player count is dropping - it's on a normal interest decline curve), it requiring a low amount of players to start a game at all is a good thing. Unlike a BR or even a normal TDM-like game, you need a minimum of 9 players to start a round. A 9-player minimum goes a long way in expanding the ability to find a game with only 15,000-ish players. It puts it right in the comfy zone of co-op games like DRG or Vermintide. However, competitive games requiring a stalwart player count to be viable unlike co-op, so that's a bit of a problem right now.
So with that being said, it can always improve right? Something can change to bring back players and bolster it's numbers again, right? Well... um...

Nexon -- The Gravedigger

Nexon & Me -- We Don't Talk About It
My relationship with Nexon is long and... tenuous, at best. To me, Nexon is that family member that only ever comes to larger family get-togethers likes weddings or baby showers. They tend to give out some of the highest ticket gift cards but once the party is over, everyone finds that the giftcards are empty or deactivated. Nexon, over the years since it's arrival in the West in 2005-ish, has been flakey at best, and absent at worst. I'm envious of those who don't have a relationship with Nexon like I do because Nexon has truly been that family figure in my life of gaming since Maplestory - I have been apart of just about every major release pre-2016. I'm 31 now - that's over half of my life. Spoilers: It's not all been good. I'm happy to say that I've been able to communicate with a small handful of you over the last 18 months who have shared my same concerns and have the same history with them that I do.
I played Maplestory religiously. I played Mabinogi diligently. I played Kart Riders confusingly. I played Sudden Attack curiously. I played Combat Arms consistently. I played Vindictus excitedly. All of the previous, and a few more, intermixed with other games not made by Nexon - aside from Runescape, Nexon has been with me just as long, if not longer (depending on how you look at it). I know how Nexon is. I know how Nexon works. I know how Nexon behaves. With that said, it doesn't bring me any joy to pop the virgin cherry for some of you who don't know much about them.
Nexon Doing Nexon Things
I'll only be mentioning relevant titles here to paint the picture that needs to be seen.

• Maplestory - Nexon's most popular MMO. A mere shadow of what it used to be and caught in controversy of trying to be fresh, but appeal to players of the past. Extremely underpopulated now, and generally only played by people who spend money. Maplestory is arguably the birth place of MTX whales in the West. Whaling and spending is so engrained in Maplestory now, it's considered part of it's active culture. Still active, but in perpetual suffering.
  
• Vindictus - One of the very first (if not the first - feel free to correct me) MMO's in the West to introduce brawl-style active combat. Extremely modest MMO at the time. Lackluster story, but very appealing gameplay loop. Practically dead today, and it has succumbed (not necessarily a bad thing) to the 'Korean Developer' trope in introducing a bunch of scantily clad ladies. While the combat loop is still rock-solid, it has aged and others have now done it better (See Blade & Soul, etc). Still alive today, but I'm using that term very loosely.
  

(From here, the only relevant conversation pertaining to this thread will be about FPS')

• Combat Arms - THE absolute F2P FPS behemoth in the West (while Sudden Attack was still in the East). It's both surprising and not surprising how many people don't know or have ever heard about this game. In a time where CSS was still the primary talk in the West, Combat Arms started bringing the Eastern F2P heat. With the largest arsenal of any FPS game to ever be released in the West, Combat Arms was a beacon for the F2P formula behind Maplestory. The beginning of the end occurred with the release of the specialist class which signaled Nexon's decline into P2W depravity. It was now another thorn in the side of players beyond the rampant cheating. Combat Arms declined very quickly beyond that point, and was eventually sold to another company - starts with a 'V'. I can't remember.
  
• Sudden Attack - I'd have to double-check, but I'm fairly confident that this is still the most-played FPS in the world between SK and China primarily due to it's accessibility. While still active today, Western servers were shuttered in 2014. Sudden Attack 2 ceased development less than 2 months after it's release.
  
• Dirty Bomb - After Sudden Attack 1's shuttering, Dirty Bomb came onto the scene. Most people don't know it, but Dirty Bomb was one of the first major contenders to break into the scene that Overwatch eventually solidified. However, Nexon and Splash Damage parted ways, and less than a year later, Dirty Bomb shuttered as well.
  
• LawBreakers - We all remember this well roasted chestnut, don't we?
  

With all of the above information about Nexon's history, its fair to surmise that Nexon has a turbulent cycle serving as a publisher for games. This does not bode well for Embark.
I'd like everyone to remember that the people we engage with on a daily basis in the Discord are passionate Embark folk. This critique of Nexon has no bearing on Embark, however it's important to remember that they'll likely be affected, and it's a shame. Even in the best case scenario that The Finals doesn't shut down, but just maintains a low player-count, it will not serve well under Embark. Unfortunately it will affect Embark's pedigree more than it would ever affect Nexon as Nexon has the same priveledge and power of the likes of EA.
I'll be honest, when I first found out Nexon is the primary publishing house behind Embark, Nexon's history of shuttering games wasn't the first thing I thought of. The first thing I actually thought of was it's history of MTX in it's game. We all joke about horse armor and FIFA packs, but Maplestory led the charge of overbearing MTX in the West. Given today's game market, I was admittedly expecting a lot worse in terms of monetization for The Finals. I'm happy to report that I'm pleasantly surprised with it's current state. I still wouldn't say it's TRUE 'micro' like Helldiver's, but it's way better than a lot of other offerings, especially for me personally coming from a game like Apex Legends.
However, Nexon's influence still can't be ignored. You see, with a history like Nexon's you probably expect what we've all witnessed in the market over the last decade, but Nexon doesn't operate that way. They have a penchant of being rather silent during most, if not all controversies. Hell, just in general - controversies aside. Unlike bodies that we're familiar with like EA, Take-Two, Ubisoft and the like, Nexon doesn't speak outside of their games often, if ever. If you were at a public execution, all of the companies we're familiar with would likely be the Officiant at the pulpit. But Nexon? They're the executioner - completely silent and performing a duty without remorse. This is always how they've acted.

Closing Thoughts

I know I said above that the MTX concerns for The Finals kind of faded away for me as it doesn't seem to be an issue we'll have to worry about, and while it's not the main point of this post, I still find it necessary for players to keep in the back of their head, especially since Embark have other games coming out. Were The Finals not to shutter due to low player count, this is my PSA to all players moving forward, whether it be about The Finals or beyond: Nexon cannot be trusted.
"Well, duh! You can't trust companies anyway, nor should you. It's a company. It's incentive is profit."
To that I say, "That's not my point".
In today's market, we're typically used to a controversy happening in the game on top of whatever PR blunders is going on with the organization, but that's not what would really happen here. The Finals doesn't have any issues beyond it's declining player count, but I want everyone to remain aware of Nexon's moves going forward. Just because we don't necessarily see the smoke here doesn't mean that there isn't a fire somewhere else.
So, for your own interest if you'd like to research on your own, here are some topics of concern:

1. Variety of game closures and sunsets under contentious situations with developers and publishing partners alike.
2. Account security breaches (I guess a more relevant tangent would be GameGuard. Nexon was the first to widely use GameGuard when Maplestory came to the West. I personally don't care, but I know some others would.)
3. Various cases of government scrutiny world-wide due to addictive Gachapon implementations.
4. Speaking of Gachapon (and P2W), their recent suit around manipulating odds for a P2W item outside of it's listed values: https://www.koreaherald.com/view.php?ud=20240312050604
5. And lastly, most recently, Nexon pulling back public support for Maplestory's would-be world-first level 300 player when he used the opportunity to address genuine concerns about the game's current state, including the above lawsuit.

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Hi so this is a long story so apologies in advance. I’m going to try to give as many details as possible but still keep it as anonymous as possible since this may result in a law suit. So for some background we live in an apartment complex it’s on the smaller size and the parking lot is in an L shape and can fit around 75 cars. I have a car and so does my boyfriend which we stated prior to moving in and gave both of our license plates for their records. For context: We have had previous issues with the landlord/landlord company (never filed for some things but we were lied too about certain things prior to moving in, all that was recorded as well, because you can hear the person who showed the apartment to us on video tell us certain things all with his consent as he knew we were recording. For example that you couldn’t hear your neighbors on either side or down below since we are on the top floor and that the apartment wouldn’t reek like cigarettes by having the windows open cause other tenants violate the rental agreement and smoke in there apartments.) We have had to make a few calls because the guy who lives underneath us has put his hands on his wife and Or girlfriend (we aren’t sure) and a few others neighbors have called the cops as well. The first time that we called because we heard her screaming and him throwing glass (we had already called police) they basically told us that they couldn’t do anything and couldn’t evict him or intervene ???? The second time we called to try and lodge a noise complaint which we were hoping would actually get them to take action and we took video this time (she was screaming for help and our neighbor texted us that she already called the police) she basically told us if we called again it would be a negative mark against us as tenants. That leads us to today, I work from home so there are times that I don’t use my car often maybe once or twice every other week. The car also has battery problems so it’s a pain to drive and was planning on selling it. My boyfriends car is newer and he usually drives us places. I usually park in the same spot if I do use my car. I came home today (Saturday 10am) after walking to get a haircut that was down the street and when I came home there was a giant bright orange sticker (it took up a good portion of my back window) on the back of my car saying I had to move it by Monday 7am or it is to be towed. There was no case number and I called local police and they confirmed that they didn’t do it. This is where it’s hilarious it says if you have any questions to call them… the office opens at 9am on Monday so there’s no way to contact them through phone, or email before my time would run out to move the car. Tried to start my car to move it and bring it somewhere else and bam battery issue. I’m basically in tears at this point and a few neighbors are standing outside some smoking and some staring through their apartment windows. As I was getting out of the car I saw some were pointing and laughing at me. Some shit straight out of a movie. I ran inside sobbing due to the embarrassment I felt and it took some time to calm down. Not needed but I had just found out this morning my grandmother was in the icu while walking home after the haircut so it was an awful day. Even as I’m typing this now I’m still shaking. After some calming down and my boyfriend trying to help I tried to figure out what to do luckily I had AAA due to previous car issues and my boyfriends wonderful family let me tow the car to their house. The tow truck driver was amazing and urged me to seek legal help as he was baffled they would do this and covered the sticker as he was towing to take away some of the embarrassment I felt as people were watching from their window. On our lease when it comes to cars it says if they deem appropriate to tow they will reach out either through email or a phone call which never happened. We have never missed a rent payment and we keep the noise level low and never had neighbors complain about us, we don’t smoke and rarely have visitors, if we do they aren’t there longer then 3-4 hours during the day. I apologize for the long post but I’m not sure what to do and I don’t want to live here anymore and don’t want to go outside due to the embarrassment of a good portion our neighbors seeing what happened and making fun of the situation. Also they have signs saying 24 hour surveillance but the cameras broke and we’re taken down and never replaced 2 years ago. (Yes we have called and asked and the office told us they don’t have cameras) My car is older but it’s in good shape no dents or chipped paint and still looks brand new so I don’t think it’s an issue to do with old junk cars muddying the lot which there are some worse I.e. misusing tires or taped with cut tape and they never received a sticker of warning to tow. Please help on what the best decision to do here is.

When I was ten, I formed a junior detective squad.
Mom bought me the entire box set of What's New Scooby Doo, and I was inspired to start my very own detective gang. I held auditions outside the gymnasium at recess (serious enquiries only) after a number of kids tried to apply for the role of Scooby Doo despite me reiterating I was not interested in playing make believe.
When I was laughed at in class, I made posters strictly asking for SERIOUS wannabe detectives, even going as far as using my Mom’s printer to make flyers, sticking them all over the school.
Auditions were simple. I asked them to solve a simple riddle.
Whoever impressed me got to sign their name down, and I’d get back to them.
I spent three days sifting through kids who definitely had charm, but they lacked the intelligence of a junior detective. Most kids were only auditioning to make fun of me, anyway.
Still, though, I didn't give up.
My flyers had five requirements:
1). You had to be smart.
2). You were not allowed to be a scaredy cat.
3). You had to accept your inevitable death at the hands of our town’s evil villains.
4). You had to have a fully registered driving licence (I quickly changed this to a bike).
5). You cannot have a criminal record.
(I later scribbled this one out, writing over it. *“You cannot have any tardies.”
Narrowing the applicants down to three kids, all of whom failed to share my enthusiasm for solving cases. The kids I picked didn't even know how to make plans, and when I invited them to my house, they stole my Mom’s necklace.
I didn't even need to solve the mystery of who stole Mom’s necklace. The girl was wearing it at school. I punched her in the face, and was immediately sent to the principal’s office. When I was being given the mother all lectures, the door quietly opened, a head peeking through.
It was Ben Callows, a freckly kid with overgrown brown hair hanging in his eyes. Ben really needed a haircut.
He was always wearing the exact same baseball cap, and I found myself wondering if it was permanently glued to his head, stuck on top of unruly brown curls practically matted to his forehead.
In class, Ben was also known as Bloody Ben. In the second grade, the boy had a nosebleed in the middle of a spelling test, bleeding all over his paper.
It's not like he didn't try and detach himself from the name.
Ben brought in Digimon cards, so kids would call him Digimon Ben instead.
Then he “accidentally” spilled yoghurt down his shirt in hopes we would call him Yoghurt Ben. But no. The kids in our class were relentless in reminding him of his name. No matter what he did, he was still Bloody Ben, and when anything related to blood came up in class, fifteen pairs of eyes would swivel to him, like he had invented the concept of bleeding.
I feared the nickname would follow him to junior high.
Ben didn't wait to be let in. He didn't even knock, striding in with his arms folded. Over the years, Bloody Ben, had definitely soured his personality.
He smiled rarely, and when he did smile, someone was falling over or hurting themselves.
Which definitely strengthened the claims of him being a sociopath.
The rumor mill was churning, with the latest claiming Bloody Ben killed his cat. That wasn't true. Ben’s cat was seventeen with cancer, and that was why he was sobbing all the way through reading time.
According to Ellie Daly, however, Ben had killed and dissected his kitty, and buried her in his Mom’s flowers.
Now, my principal did not like being interrupted, especially when she was in the middle of screaming at me.
Principal Marrow was old old (like, thirty, in my ten year old mind) stick thin like a pencil, and always wore the same stained sweater.
She used to be pretty, but I was convinced she had kissed a frog and been cursed. After our old principal suffered a stroke, she stepped in as a temporary replacement, and since becoming principal, had banned my favorite book series, colored shoe laces, and hamburger helper, even officiating a uniform.
(vomit green shorts and a tee, and plain white sneakers).
Kids were convinced she was a witch, and I kind of believed it.
Principal Marrow’s whole existence was built on sucking the fun out of school.
I was already reprimanded for my mystery gang flyers.
Her office smelled of peppermint and she was definitely sneaking sips of whisky in her coffee cup. I could see the bottle sticking out of the trash.
She straightened up, folding her arms across her chest, squinty eyes narrowing at the boy. I had spent the whole time she was lecturing me trying not to cry, my fists bunched in my lap.
I took the distraction as the perfect opportunity to swipe at my eyes, allowing myself to breathe.
Ben Callows was her victim now.
I was right. The woman's voice was like a thunderclap in my ears.
“You better have a good reason for not knocking, young man.”
Ben wasn't fazed by her tone. “You took my Switch two weeks ago,” he said, “I want it back, or I’m telling my Mom.”
At first, I thought I'd misheard him.
No, I was pretty sure he'd threatened our principal.
I swore I heard all of the breath sucked from the room.
“I'm sorry,” Principal Marrow cleared her throat. Her soft tone was dangerous.
She wasn't being nice. The lady was about to explode.
I could see visible veins straining in her temples, her right eye twitching.
It was straight out of a cartoon.
“Did you forget something, Ben?”
Ben sighed, like she was inconveniencing him.
He held out his hand. “Please can I have my Switch back? It counts as stolen property. Give it back, or I'm telling my Mom.”
The kid put so much emphasis on the word please, I couldn't resist a smile.
I think our principal was too shocked to get angry.
“Get out.” She said, firmly. “I don't have your gaming device.”
“It's in your drawer.” Ben nodded to her desk, “Under your divorce papers and the restraining order ordered by Jake Willow, the seventeen year old boy you've been having math ‘tutoring sessions’ with.” He quoted the air, his gaze lazily rolling to me. “Tutoring”
Principal Marrow went deathly pale, her eyes darkening.
“Benjamin Callows–”
“The school already knows about the restraining order, but your uncle is the head of the Board of Education, so all you get is a slap on the wrist and a warning to leave the boy alone."
Ben continued, and I found myself mesmerised by his words. He was a natural, his expression stoic, mouth curved with satisfaction that wasn't quite a smile. “However.” He held up his phone, pulling it away at the exact moment the teacher attempted to grab it. “You were outside Jake Willow’s house at 6:12am, drunk, and trying to climb through his window, which, I think violates the restraining order, does it not?”
Ben pretended to think real hard, his gaze flicking to the ceiling.
“I mean, I'm just a kid, right?” His mouth curled into the hint of a smirk
“What do I know, huh?”
Principal Marrow’s expression twisted, her lip wobbling.
“Mr Callows, remove yourself from my office, or I am calling your father.”
Leaning comfortably against the door, Ben’s lip twitched.
“Why? Are you planning on telling my Dad about your relations with a teenage boy, or will I have to tell him instead?”
I was enthralled, and fully disgusted, making a move to inch away from the woman.
“But it doesn't end there.” Ben continued. He straightened up, taking slow, intimidating steps towards the woman's desk. “You don't even want Jake, do you? Because, once upon a time, you were in love with his father. Jason Willow. You despised him for rejecting you, so you decided to defile his son.” Ben leaned over the principal’s desk, slipping his hand into the drawer, and pulling out his switch.
Painfully slowly.
She stood there, speechless, her shoulders trembling.
Ben smiled, and I found myself liking it.
“Thank you!” He said, waving the console in her face. Ben mimed locking his mouth and throwing away the key.
“My lips are sealed.”
Ben’s half lidded eyes found mine. “Are ya coming, Panda?”
I forgot my own nickname.
Panda.
I wore my Mom’s eyeliner because I thought it looked cool.
It did not.
Finding my breath, I snapped out of it.
Jumping up, I followed him out of the office, and when the two of us were safely on the hallway, I burst into hysterical giggles. “How did you know all of that?!” I whisper- shrieked.
Ben surprised me with a splutter. “Wait. You believed me?”
Something very cold trickled down my spine.
I stopped walking. “You lied?”
He shrugged. “I had a dig around her office before she caught me a few days ago,” Ben swung his arms, a smile curling on his mouth. “There's no restraining order, but there is prescription anti-psychosis medicine, and an extremely detailed story on her laptop about a teachestudent romance, which I presume is a self insert.”
Ben shot me a sickly grin. “The school refused to make her condition public.”
He prodded at his own cotton shirt embroidered with the school emblem.
“Why do you think she's made all these dumb rules? The woman is a certified Looney Tune.”
I nodded slowly. “Wait. What about Jake and his dad?”
“I made them up.”
I choked out a laugh. “And… the video?”
Ben walked faster, pulling out his phone and shoving it in my face. The video was real. Principal Marrow was walking around in circles, draped in her nightgown. “It's her own house,” he explained. “She locked herself out.”
Nodding slowly, I was in awe. Bloody Ben was kind of fucking amazing.
“But the restraining order isn't real.”
Ben raised a brow, coming to an abrupt halt. It was his smile that cemented his place in my gang. His lack of empathy for a woman he had gaslit into being a disgusting human being. Ben Callows wasn't exactly what I was looking for, but he fascinated me. Maybe for the wrong reasons. “Her filing cabinets are filled with tinned cat food, Panda,” he said with an exaggerated sigh, “I’m not psychic, but I thiiiiink we’ll be okay.”
I turned to him, unable to stop myself jumping up and down with excitement.
“Will you be my first?!”
Ben inclined his head. “Will I be your what?”
I shook my head. “Sorry. I mean, will you join my mystery gang?”
The boy’s eyes lit up, and I shoved him playfully.
“To solve real cases,” I corrected myself. “Not make them up.”
Ben wore a real, proper smile. But there was something in his eyes, a darkness that was so hollow and polluted and wrong, I pretended not to see it for the sake of his smarts and intellect. “Well, if you insist, sure!” Ben held out his hand, and I shook it. I'll be your first.”
We found our second member, who was, ironically, looking for her glasses under the table in class. Lucy Prescott, the quiet girl, was born to be with us.
The class eraser went missing, and she found it in the blink of an eye.
When questioned, Lucy’s face turned as red as her hair. “I asked everyone in the class and followed the clues to the last person who had it,” she pointed to Chase Simpson. “Which was Chase, who was throwing it at Marcus Calvin.”
Twisting around in my chair, I aimed to get Ben’s attention. But he was already looking at me, chin resting on his fist, eyes ignited with excitement.
The two of us cornered Lucy after class, and when she motioned for us to get back, I dragged Ben (who was a little too excited) to my side.
Lucy looked mildly horrified when I said, dangerous cases, though her expression pricked with intrigue.
She agreed, her gaze lingering on Ben, cheeks smouldering.
Our last two members were a surprise.
Violet Evergreen was what you would call popular on the middle school hierarchy. Not just because her mother was the mayor, but because Violet could get away with murder. The girl refused to wear the school uniform, coloring a single purple streak in her hair to cement herself as the it girl.
She was also one of the girls who started the Bloody Ben rumor.
Ben, Lucy, and I were sitting on the grass during recess, trying to come up with a name for our detective service, when Violet came storming over, hands planted on her hips. She was copying how her mother held herself during town meetings.
“What are you doing?” Violet demanded.
Lucy opened her mouth to answer, Ben nudging her to shut up.
“Making a mystery gang.” I told her. “Why?”
Violet inclined her head. “Oh.” She folded her arms. “Well, can I join?”
Ben stood up, stepping in front of the girl. Violet didn't move, stubbornly standing her ground. “Sure.” Ben flashed a grin that didn't quite reach his eyes. He stepped closer to her, his smile widening. “If you can pass the test.”
Violet’s lip curled. She took a single step back. “What kind of test?”
Ben nodded to me. “Meet us at the swimming pool at 8pm.”
To my surprise, Violet nodded. “Do I need to bring anything?”
“Nope!”
8pm. The four of us met outside the local swimming pool.
Violet was already on the other side of the fence, waving.
“Hey guys!”
I noticed Ben’s expression, his eyes darkening, lip curling.
Still though, he maintained positivity, vaulting over the fence.
“You made it!”
I followed him, helping Lucy, who was immediately freaking out. I didn't blame her. The pool looked cold and dark, a hollow oblivion carved into the ground.
Ben and Violet stood on the edge, the two of them shoulder to shoulder.
Violet Evergreen was braver than I thought.
Standing with her arms at her sides, Violet's hands clenched into fists.
“What's the test?” Violet said, her gaze glued to bleeding black depths.
“I don't know,” Ben murmured, his voice teetering on a giggle. He leaned forwards, arms spread out. “I didn't think you'd actually come meet us.”
Violet hummed, stretching out her leg, teasing it across the surface. “Was that the test?”
The boy leaned back. I caught the glint of a grin under the floodlights. “Nah.”
Before I knew what was happening, he shoved Violet into the pool. The girl didn't scream or shriek, she just hit the surface, sinking into pitch dark nothing.
“Sink or swim,” Ben said in a low murmur, when Violet’s head bobbed under water. I could see her shadow under the surface, imagining the freezing cold depths pulling her down.
“Drown, and you can't join us.”
It was so quiet, suddenly. The three of us staring into rippling water.
A minute passed, and my tummy started to twist.
“Fuck.” Ben’s expression stayed stoic. I wasn't expecting him to say a bad word.
He cocked his head. “I thought she could swim.”
I hit him, holding in a cry. “You need to get our parents!”
But he didn't listen to me, taking a single step, and dropping into the pool.
I fell to my knees, scanning the water.
Lucy was crying. “Are they dead?!” she shrieked.
“Shhh!” I was watching two shadows lingering under the water.
Violet broke through. I expected her to be crying, but her expression was unwavering. She was silent. I thought the splashing underneath her was her legs trying and struggling to tread water, before Lucy shoved me. Hard.
“Panda! What do we do?!”
Looking closer, Violet was perfectly still, her gaze on the sky.
While she shoved Ben under the water, drowning him.
Violet’s eyes sparkled, and somehow, I knew she belonged in my gang.
Her gaze found mine, glinting with that darkness, that poisonous streak I found myself drawn to. It was a starving, insatiable need to understand a fractured mind. Know your enemy.
“Do you want to see if Ben’s a witch?” Violet asked me, her tone something else entirely. This girl did not make sense, using barely her finger to drown Ben Callows. I knew she was wrong.
I knew there was something loose, something unlocked and unbridled and drowning inside her mind and heart.
But I wanted more of her. I wanted Violet Evergreen in my detective gang.
I think that is why I stood there, frozen.
When the thrashing stopped, Ben broke through.
He wasn't coughing or spluttering, his head inclined. “You didn't drown.”
Violet climbed out of the pool, offering her hand. “And you're not a witch.”
He declined her hand, taking the steps instead.
I asked Violet in a shaky voice. I was trembling with terror, but I was excited.
Exhilarated.
“Violet, will you join my gang?”
She didn't answer me until we were sharing hot cocoa in my house.
I told Mom we fell in the pool, and she believed me. I should have told her that my friends were sociopaths, and I was kind of maybe in love. Violet sipped her cocoa, nodding with a smile I didn't recognise. Violet never smiled at school.
Well, she did. But it was always the prick of a cruel smirk.
I don't think her smile was genuine, but she was definitely enjoying herself.
Our last member came to us, instead of finding him.
Jules Howell, a straggly brunette pushed his way in front of me in the lunch line. I didn't really know the kid.
He sat at the back of the classroom and slept through most of class. I did like his accent though.
Jules had moved from Melbourne in the second grade. He didn't talk much.
When he did, I found myself enveloped in his voice, which sounded like water to me, a bleeding cadence to his tone.
Jules piled his plate with fries, smiling widely at the lunch ladies.
“I saw you last night.” He murmured through that perfectly moulded grin.
“Saw me where?”
“At the pool,” Jules said. “You, Bloody Ben, Violet Evergreen, and that Lucy girl. You were doing a suiciding pact.”
“That's not what we were doing.” I said, “What's a suiciding pact?”
“When you kill yourself together.” Jules said. “I saw it in a scary movie my Mom was watching.”
I grabbed a fork. “We weren't doing that.”
His eyes were strange when I took the time to notice them. The excited gleam had fizzled out. Jules’s hands tightened around his tray. “Then what were you doing?”
I didn't reply, making my way over to our usual table. Ben was already waving me over, Violet and Lucy holding up the flyers we were making.
THE REDBLOOD DETECTIVES.”
Do YOU need our help? We can find/solve anything! Contact us on the number below. (We take donations!)
When I bothered turning around, Jules was lost in the crowd of kids.
We were on our first official case, searching for Mrs Lake’s missing mail, when Jules appeared seemingly out of nowhere. And with him, a golden retriever puppy he introduced as Arlo.
It took a dog jumping up at them for Violet and Ben to find their real smiles, their real selves slowly seeping through these facades they had built around themselves. Ben dropped to a crouch, ruffling the dog's ears, his smile faint.
“Who's a good boy?” He chuckled.
Arlo didn't move, tail wagging, eyes bright.
Ben motioned the dog towards him, but Arlo stayed put.
Jules joined us…quietly.
I don't remember asking him, or even him asking me.
He just became part of us, side by side with Arlo.
We soon came to quickly realize that our town was boring.
There were no monsters or thieves, or soul sucking demons. No criminals or serial killers. Not even one missing person. We did, however, get calls about missing cats. I turned eleven years old, patiently waiting for a murder or a kid going missing. But there was nothing.
All we did was chase cats, and the occasional dog. Maybe a budgie if we were lucky. Twelve years old, our detective club became a joke.
The five of us (and Arlo hiding under the table) were trying to pinpoint Mrs Tracy's lost hamster, when three girls came over, dumping their soda all over us.
We watched crime shows for inspiration on catching killers.
Ben’s favorite crime was one that happened in the 80’s in our town.
2 girls murdered.
Their intestines stuffed into envelopes and mailed to family members.
“That's what we should be solving,” he told me one night, “Not missing cats.”
Thirteen years old, we lay in Violet’s backyard under the cruel glare of the summer sun. We called it working and didn't like to admit it was hanging out, or that we were even friends. However.
That didn't stop us growing closer.
Even if it wasn't quite the way I’d expected.
I proposed a plan, standing up, wobbling a little off balance.
“I've got it.” I said, my voice kinda slurry from Violet’s special summer cocktail, which was just random alcoholic beverages we found, thrown into a blender, and diluted with water.
The town wasn't taking us seriously.
So, we were going to make our own mysteries.
I ordered a full-scale assault on our small town. One that they could not ignore. Ben stamped on Mrs Mason’s flowers, and Lucy threw mud pies at people's cars. Jules trashed the high school gym, and Violet and I spray painted threats and warnings on every store window. Now, this did cause panic, but also an official curfew.
Thirty minutes before curfew, we met in our usual spot, deep in the forest near the lake. Ben yelled at me when I was three minutes late. He was real passionate about finding a real mystery.
“You're late.” Ben was sitting on a rock waving a stick in Arlo’s face.
The dog still wasn't going near him, whining softly.
I took my place, muttering an apology. “I had to lie to my Mom.”
Violet, sitting with her legs crossed, idly digging her manicure into the dirt, suggested we buy mannequins and masquerade them as dead bodies, hanging them from the school rafters.
Lucy, who had slowly grown out of her shell, becoming a lot more outspoken, nudged her. “That's a stupid idea.”
The girl groaned, leaning into her. “Urgh. You're right.”
Jules was the only energetic one, standing on the tireswing.
He jumped down, definitely twisting his ankle.
But his smile only widened, kind of like he enjoyed being in pain.
“Why don't we pretend to be kidnapped?” He said, pulling the hood of his sweatshirt over blondish curls growing out. Jules did a dramatic spin, his eyes shining. “We can ‘go missing’ for like a week, and then when our parents are really scared, we can turn up, and tell them we escaped a kidnapping.” His lips split into a grin.
“And then we solve our own kidnapping!”
Ben awkwardly patted Arlos head, only for the dog to pull away with a snort.
“I like it,” he murmured. “I'm in.”
Jules’s idea was stupid.
But.
It was worth a shot.
The five of us agreed to meet the morning after with enough food and supplies for a week. Then we were going to hike to the next town, and hide out for a week. It was an almost perfect plan, using ourselves as victims of our own mystery.
Packing as much as I could, I kissed my mother goodbye (I told her my pack was for a picnic) and set off to the rendezvous we agreed on.
When I arrived, I was the first one there. I checked and re-checked my pack.
I waited ten minutes, unable to contain my excitement.
Then 20 minutes.
It was getting kind of cold.
One hour.
I sat on a rock for enough time to watch the sky change color.
When the clouds were orange, I stood up and stumbled back home. They had gone without me. Mom lectured me when I got home, and I stuck to the plan of pretending my friends had gone missing, even if I they had betrayed me.
Ben said he'd text me when he arrived at the redervous. I at least expected him to text an explanation, but there was nothing. I was in the dark, and after three days of nothing, our town finally began to take us seriously.
“Our children have been kidnapped!” The adults were screaming.
Mom was crying in the kitchen, praying to a god I knew she didn't believe in that I wasn't taken next. I was interviewed and stuck with the exact same story I came up with when I was with the others. Our plan was to return after a week, claiming to be locked up in a dark room with a masked man.
I told my Mother and the other parents that I didn't know where my friends were, repeating the same thing over and over again until I was tongue tied.
“I saw them the day before they went missing, and… yes, everything seemed okay.” I slowly sipped my glass of milk provided, looking the sheriff directly in the eyes.
“No, I didn't notice anything suspicious, sheriff. Yes, I'm sure, sir. No, they didn't tell me anything.”
It was Ben’s mother who shattered my mask.
“Did I know about… what?” I whispered.
Something warm filled the back of my mouth, foul tasting milk erupting up my throat. I leaned forward, trying to look Mrs Callows in the eye. “No, I… I didn't know about Ben’s…condition.”
Mrs Callows was screaming at me about her son’s troubled past when I barfed all over myself, my eyes burning.
In the privacy of my own room, I sobbed until I couldn't breathe.
I tried to tell Mom, but we had come so close.
One more day, and the others would be back.
But that day came. I sat cross legged at our usual spot, which was now covered in police tape. I waited for their thudding footsteps, their laughter congratulating each other for coming up with a great plan. I waited, my face buried in my knees, for my friends.
It was dark when my phone vibrated, and I'd fallen asleep.
I wasn't scared, forcing myself to my feet.
“Where are you?” Mom yelled down the phone.
“Coming home now.” I muttered.
“Sorry.” I paused, holding my breath against a cry. “Mom.” I broke down, forcing my fist into my mouth to hide my squeak. “Mommy, did they come back?”
Mom didn't reply for a moment.
“I'm so sorry, baby.” She whispered, ending the call.
I took my time walking home that night.
There were no stars in the sky.
When a hand clamped over my mouth, I could smell him.
When he dragged me back, stabbing a kitchen knife into my throat, I stared at the sky and looked for stars. His arms were warm around me, violently pulling me into the back of a pickup truck. The pickup truck he'd said he was bringing.
It was his grandfather's, and he could just about drive it.
Hitting the backseat, my body was numb, my thoughts in a whirlwind.
The pickup flew forwards, and I remembered how to move.
I rolled off the seat, my hands pinned behind my back.
Twisting around, blinking in the dim, I could feel something warm, something seeping across upholstery seats. Blood.
It was everywhere, sticky on my hands and wet on my face when I struggled to get up. I was lying in someone's blood.
A scream clawed its way out of my throat.
The pickup flew over a pothole, and something dropped off the seat.
Arlo’s leash.
I screamed again, this time his name gritted between my teeth.
I didn't stop screaming until the jerking movement stopped. The doors opened, pale light hitting me in the face.
Flashlight. Warm arms wrapped around me, pulling me from the car, and then, pulling me by my hair, into our old tree house. It was always our secret place, our saving grace on the edge of town.
The flickering candlelight caught me off guard, illuminating my surroundings.
Two bodies slumped over each other, lying in stemming red.
I felt suffocated, like I was going to die. I screamed, and that warm hand cradled my mouth again, gagging my cries.
Violet and Jules.
There was something wrong with them. And it was only when I forced myself to look closer, when I realized their insides had been carved out, heart, stomach, everything, pulled out.
There was paper on the floor.
No, not paper. Envelopes.
Envelopes stuffed with gore, bright red leaking through white.
Shuffling back, my brain was too slow to react, while my body was trying to vault to my feet, only to be violently pulled back by my ponytail.
I felt his fingers twining around my hair, revelling in my screams.
With another tug, my head was forced forwards.
Orange candlelight felt almost homely, this time lighting up a third body.
Lying on their back, curled up, pooling scarlet dried into the floorboards, their wrists restricted with duct-tape.
I could feel blood underneath me, sticky, a congealing paste.
“Do you know what happened on October 3rd, 1987, in our town?”
Lucy Prescott stood over me, her arms folded across her chest.
I managed to shake my head, when she grabbed Ben’s legs, dragging him under the candlelight. I dazedly watched her stroke the blade of a carving knife, the teeth already stained scarlet. “The intestine murders.” Lucy hummed, tracing the knife down the floorboards.
“A man murdered two high school girls, carving out their insides and sending their pieces to their loved ones.”
Lucy's eyes found mine, ignited in a familiar gleam. I saw it in Principal Marrow’s office. Then the swimming pool. The cafeteria. “It was the sheriff's only murder case, Panda. Ever since then, our town has been boring. There's no mysteries to solve. Nothing to find.”
The girl jumped to her feet, retrieving a blood stained envelope.
She held it up, a smile curved on her lips. The girl turned around, and I heard a horrific squelching sound. Lucy held up a bright red sausage, ripped into it, and slipped it into the white paper.
“But I can change that.” she said, in a giggle.
“I can create a real serial killer, who we can hunt down together.”
Lucy stabbed the blade into the floor, laughing.
“Or! I can bring a fan-favorite back! I can bring the intestine killer back from the dead!”
Her gaze flicked to the others. “There are casualties, of course. The story is, I was kidnapped with Ben, Violet, and Jules. The scary intestine killer killed them, and I managed to get away.”
Lucy shuffled over to me, her eyes wide. “Then! He came back and struck again!”
With those words, she shoved me onto my back.
“First he took Violet,” Lucy hummed, tracing the blade down my shirt.
“Then… Jules.” I squeezed my eyes shut, pulling at the restraints around my wrists. “Then Ben.” her breath tickled my cheek. “And finally… Panda.”
Lucy lifted the knife, and I accepted my death.
Until a low rumble in my ears.
Shouting.
Thundering footsteps, followed by the pitter-patter of paws.
“Lucy!” The sheriff was screaming, and the girl stumbled to her feet, the knife slipping from her fingers. Lucy stumbled, tripping over Ben’s body.
“He got away!” she shrieked. “He…he killed them! Oh, god, please help me!”
I don't think Lucy even realised the traces she'd left behind.
The blood slick on her fingers, her manic, grinning smile full of mania.
I was looking for stars when an officer crouched over me.
I couldn't understand what she was saying.
Her voice was white noise.
“Rachel? Hey, try and sit up, honey. You Mom is on her way.”
Instead of listening to her, I curled into myself.
My gaze found Arlo sticking his nose in Ben’s hair, trying to nudge the boy awake.
I didn't fully register the next few days.
They went by in a confusing blur.
Part of me tried to eat, and spent hours with my head pressed against the toilet seat.
I could still see the slithering, scarlet remains of my friends every time I closed my eyes. There was so much red, soaked in that hunting orange light.
Blood that I could still see, a starless sky that stretched on forever.
Weeks went by.
Then months.
I think I turned 14. I wasn't sure. I didn't feel alive anymore.
I stood at my friend’s funerals with a single rose I dropped into their casket.
Violet’s mother was quick to cover the whole thing up.
Lucy's plan didn't work after all.
Our town’s murder cases stayed stagnant at one.
It's been four years since my friends were murdered by our ’Velma’.
Now, at seventeen, Mom asked if I wanted to visit Lucy in juvie.
I'm not even upset or angry anymore.
I want to know why.
Ben picked me up. Arlo was at his side, wagging his tail.
Ben was…different. He'd dumped his baseball cap and gotten a haircut, swapping his old wardrobe of drab colors for an attempt at changing style.
That day, he looked awkward in a short sleeved tee and shorts.
At school, Ben is no longer Bloody Ben.
Now, he is Survivor Ben.
I’m still Panda.
Every time I was with him, I felt like my soul was being sucked out.
Guilt so deep, so fucking painful, I lost my breath.
I live knowing that I immediately assumed it was him that day.
Ben was barely alive when I found him. Lucy had started to carve into him before remembering she needed me.
After admitting it to him, his lips formed a small smile.
“Can I tell you a secret?” He said to me, at sixteen.
"Yeah?"
Whatever he was going to say, Ben never told me.
Presently, I nodded at the dog’s new collar.
“Peppa Pig themed?”
The boy shrugged, ruffling Arlo’s ears. “FYI, he chose it.”
“It's cute.” I said. “Very… chic.”
We didn't speak the whole ride, but Ben did entangle his hand in mine.
We spent half an hour outside the detention centre. I was panicking, and Ben was trying to hide that he was panicking. In the end, we joined hands, and strode through the doors together.
Lucy greeted us with a wide smile. Just as psychotic.
The orange jumpsuit suited her, though I had zero idea why.
“Hey Arlo!” she giggled at the dog, and Ben pulled the pup onto his lap.
“Ben.” She sighed. “I wish I got to finish you. I would have loved to solve the mystery of your gutted corpse.”
Ben’s smile was wry. “Nice to see you too.”
Behind a glass screen, I asked Lucy one simple question.
“Why?”
Lucy didn't reply. Or she did, but it was just nonsensical bullshit.
But there was one thing she said has stuck with me, chilling me to the core.
I am fucking terrified of Lucy. Of what's she's done, and what she's capable of doing.
It was a throwaway line, and I don't even think Ben noticed.
Or he did, and was in denial.
Lucy's smile was wide, her eyes empty pools of nothing.
The exact same glint in Ben’s eyes.
Jules’s eyes.
Violet’s eyes.
Like something was gnawing away at their psyche, twisting and contorting it, filling them with darkness, poison, that was so vast, so endless, I had craved it as a child. I still don't know what it is.
But I'm going to find it.
Lucy's laugh was shrill, and next to me, Ben didn't move a muscle.
But he did smile.
Yes, my gang were psychos.
But I kind of maybe loved it.
“I don't even wear glasses!”

Disclaimer: Some lore stretching and reconnecting with legends
Black screen fades with some jar head rebels trekking through the shallow and murky water of Raxus Prime. Their drill sergeant is like Sergeant Johnson from Halo. He sings and they sing along (tune resemblance to "I don't know what I've been told)
Low angle of Rebel feet kicking up murky water and a dim morning sky filled with rust brown clouds. " 🎶Empire's made the galaxy cold! Put my whole old life right on hold. Pain in the butt I am told. Gimme a blaster, I am bold!🎶"
Cut to a new kaminoan cloning facility hidden in a junk mountain on the planet with new LAATs with shiny steel appearances and no paint jobs flying in and out of the junk mountain's carriers above and around the facility.
Cut to inside the facility where new clonetroopers are training alongside rebels. Rebels are decked out in Rambo-type gear with pieces of stolen and reinforced stormtrooper armor with green and brown paint jobs. Clones have shiny clone armor made of metals from smelted junk. They carry metal back packs, some with antenna and some with supplies and blasters.
We hear a witch's voice speak to the sergeant and he smugly replies "Because I'm thinkin' we can give our old friends new chances."
Cut to a dark and wide room with the sergeant, a witch and a Kaminoan. Dim lights flicker on and reveal a plethora of bacta-like preservation tubes filled with light brown fluids. Inside each and every tube is a Jedi who'd died at the temple in ROTS. The sergeant remarks "Don't even ask how we managed to get 'em." he smiles and claps his hands together and rubs them "Now, let's get to work"
Various high impact cuts commence featuring battles between the Rebels and Clones against the Empire. Then we see a resurrected Jedi. His eyes glow green. His inner robes are black and outer robes are white. His lightsaber is blue and somewhat close to halfway bled red and is seen with a faint outer layer of red dancing within the blade. He lunges through the air like a blur and swings at an inquisitor. He goes easy on the inquisitor, only for one reason. So that every time their blades would parry, he would shriek and roar "YOU..MISSED..OUT!!" After the third parry, he brutalizes the inquisitor, making easy work of him in two equally fatal swings.
Cut to more high impact scenes and end it with the sight of an observation deck. We see the sergeant, witch and Kaminoan. Before them is the Death Star and Alderaan. "Time to test & see just how durable their Death Star's shields are. Are you ready, Admiral Jar Jar?"
Off to their right is a hologram of Jar Jar, he claims to be prepared to fire at the Death Star but seems confused. He resorts to doing something stupid and the next thing everyone sees is a hijacked Star Destroyer jump to lightspeed directly into the Death Star. The hologram feed bleeds into immediate static, every jaw present has just dropped.
The Kaminoan speaks "Out of all the reasons I've ever had to discontinue research...this is the most satisfying one."
The sergeant takes notice of Alderaan now partly engulfed in flames. "Let's never do that again."
End of trailer.

Chapter 9: Knowing
—
Suggested Listening:
Nicholas Brittel Agape
Required Listening ⭐️ Kwabs Like a Star Cover (Corinne Bailey Rae)
⭐️ Raye Vela Like a Star Cover (Corinne Bailey Rae)
—
“Is your heart doing okay?” I asked.
“Yes. It is fine. I am tired, but alright.”
“Good,” I said. “I was wondering. Can you tell me another poem? And then we can go to sleep.”
Sasha looked at me. “About what?” he said, smoke drifting into my face.
“I don’t know. Tell me one about someone you love.”
“Hmm,” he nodded. “Let’s see.”
He pondered this, then an expression I can only describe as conflicted crept across his face.
“What?” I asked.
“There are few I love so dearly as this person.”
My eyes widened. “Who is it?”
Sasha’s brow furrowed. Then he frowned. At first a little, then deeply.
“What?” I asked gently.
Sasha shook his head. I saw pain now in his expression.
“You don’t have to,” I said, my own brow furrowing. “Please don’t. I can pick something else. Or, actually, we can just go to sleep right now.”
Sasha closed his eyes. Then nodded as if he had come to a decision.
“I will do this. This person I love more than my own self. I would die for him. However, it will not be pretty, this poem.”
I frowned too. “Okay,” I whispered.
“ Sharp Like the tip of a blade Blunt Like the pommel of the same sword Me Like the face of his face Him Like the reflection of my visage Swift Like the bird of prey’s flight Ruthless Like the killing of its hunt Dark Like the night without the moon Troubled Like the Dead River of the Void Alive Like his heart’s beating rhythm Dying Like the joy of his soul “
“Who is that about?” I asked, concerned. “You, ‘the face of his face.’ Your twin?”
“Yes. He is not well,” Sasha said.
“Why? What happened?”
Sasha turned away from me, shaking his head. “It is too heavy to speak of just now. In the future we will.”
“Okay, I get you,” I reassured him.
“Thank you. I worry about him everyday. I call him just as much. I would give my life for him. I owe it to him,” Sasha said fiercely. “He gave his and much more. Because of his strength we survived an ordeal too terrible to speak of.”
I thought back to when he said he felt as if he were dying. I hadn’t known he meant it literally. Then the words he had latched on to: mangled and twisted. A picture was forming. A bad one.
“Thank you for creating this poem. You didn’t have to put yourself through that pain for me,” I said guiltily. Sasha shook his head at me.
“It is okay. Perhaps it was good to express his personality in poetry. It hurts to be away from him in this place. He-“ Sasha stopped. He rubbed his mouth. “I hope he is well enough to come eventually.”
I wondered what he’d been about to say. But I did not press the issue.
“Me too. I’m so sorry you all are dealing with that kind of pain. For what it’s worth, I think the poem you made about him is beautiful. Your brother sounds like a strong Wingscale that’s really going through it right now. I hope whatever joy has been stolen from him—from his soul—renews from the ashes. Or maybe some new joy will settle there, burning brightly.”
“Like a Phoenix,” he smiled. “I will tell him what you said. You two would get along, I think.”
“I can’t wait to meet him then,” I said. I wondered what sort of person he was. Moreover, I found it incredibly interesting that Sasha had a twin considering I did as well. I would tell him that news sometime when he was not already overwhelmed.
“Why don’t you get some rest? You’ve had all kinds of heart attacks and poetry and seen fire wings and what have you,” I suggested.
Sasha chuckled. “Perhaps. I must escape from this. I do not think I have made so many beautiful words manifest as poetry as I have tonight. If I do not sleep I will continue.”
“Okay, right? I usually spend some serious time writing these things. But tonight it’s like my mouth is possessed by my own self.”
“What an apt way to describe it. I feel the same. I acknowledge that my manner of speech is skilled, but tonight it holds a level of eloquence that I did not know I possessed.”
I thought back to his oration, the first thing he recited of our lyrical night. I shivered. “Sasha, you can ‘Speak to me’ anytime. This soul is listening. Eloquence indeed.”
“I promise I will speak to you more oration. You are the only person I know who would enjoy such serious strings of words for your own enjoyment.”
“I have a taste for dignity,” I replied.
Sasha paused. “What more do you need of eloquence when your mouth creates it from nowhere?”
“You have the flavor I want.”
Sasha stared at me incredulously and shook his head. “I am done with you again. You talk me into a trap at every turn.”
I cackled at him. “Alright, alright. It’s time for you go to sleep.”
“Very well,” he said, laughing gently.
I held him closer, although it was impossible. His wing came down over me like a shroud of protection. We held on to each other in silence, not needing anything to fill the space. I just breathed him. Smoke. Fire. Silence. Warmth. Breath. Growl. They spoke enough.
After a while of just laying there in peacefulness, he fell asleep. I could feel the regular inhalations and exhalations marked by the shudder of his chest. And he was a heavy sleeper. Or he was exhausted. Both probably. His flames were still wild even in slumber. Small flickers and tendrils of fire peeked every so often from his mouth. A deep growl emanated from his chest and throat at every exhalation. I stroked Sasha’s face as he slept, the heat of his fire on my hand, and he didn’t move an inch.
I watched him for a while until it occurred to me to write out all the words we had recited to each other. I turned over and reached past his wing to grab my phone from the nightstand. The glow from my screen was strange, it’s blueness cutting through the smoky red in my vision. I sat back and typed every amazing thing we had said.
Those collections of words we had stitched together from nothing just floored me. I had never made poetry like what I did that night. Such passion and beauty.
I looked at Sasha again, thinking about the words that had entranced me from his mouth.
‘Speak to me.’
‘Speak to me.’
The phrase kept ringing out in my chest. He was right. It was a rare thing to find someone who would hang on to your every word with the utmost attention. With actual interest, engagement. I wanted to speak to him forever, about anything. And he would listen. I would listen to him.
I closed my eyes and shook my head at such strong thoughts about a stranger. I thought of all the ‘normal’ people I had dated in the past. The relationships had all gone ‘normally’: date, texting, talking into the night, more dates, sex, dates. Accusations, breakups, crying. Getting over it. Normal stuff.
This was not normal, not in the slightest. Never in all my life had I behaved the way I did under that tree. I was still wondering who that was. Who was the Leila that kissed that way, that straddled dragons in broad daylight? That made love without a first date at all and then swore a stranger to an oath of binding, a whole relationship? That spoke poetry at him from her breath like it was my own fire?
Apparently I was her. It frightened me, the speed with which she and I had moved in one evening. And yet it all felt perfectly normal, inevitable.
Of course I had known when Sasha arrived there was something special about him, no matter how I tried to pretend everything was normal. why was I pretending?
That very first day, when I saw him walk into my morning class, I wasn’t paying attention when he said who he was. I had looked up and locked eyes with him. We held each others gaze for a beat longer than necessary.
Every damn class that day, and the following, I missed him announce his name. It was like a comedy sketch. The writing class we shared was the only one I was paying close attention to, and the professor had written his name on the board of course. It was infuriating.
I watched him like a hawk after he arrived that week. In all that time he didn’t speak around me. And I never spoke to him. Why hadn’t I? What had stopped me?
Just like he said, we just kept Circling each other, but never allowed ourselves to meet at the center of our orbit. He felt the same way. He had said he wanted to speak with me as well but for some reason he didn’t.
It was like a force was beckoning us to each other. To finally meet at the center of a Circle.
This day had been the first time I heard his voice at all. If I had heard it earlier, I would have been completely undone. I would not have let him walk away from me so many times.
I stared at his sleeping form, and a thought came to me again. He avoided speaking around me on purpose. Talking to me. He had known that getting close to me might start something, but had he know it would be his voice that caused such a domino effect? Then again, he knew far more than I did about Callings. Frequencies.
I balked at that word. It was so clumsy, so empty to how it felt. We shared vibes. My soul vibrated on the same wavelength as his body. Our mouths breathed the same breath. Our hearts beat the same.
Sameness. Oneness. Vibes.
He knew something would happen to his body if he let us get too close to each other. I was what he thought I was, and he had failed to prevent that change in us. But he didn’t know anything of how these changes would manifest.
It had happened so fast that he was alarmed to see me standing there in class. As soon as I greeted him, the very second he said ‘hi,’ that curious sound beneath his voice started. The thought that he was so helpless at that moment saddened me the same way it did him when he revealed the permanence of Calling. He never stood a chance. I kissed my hand and continued to stroke his face with that kiss.
And then the wings. The dreams and visions. Those two otherworldly beings… What were we? Were we gods or something? Were we reincarnated versions of them? Possessed? Were they using us? What did any of this mean? I did not know.
I tried to be more upset about this breech on our lives that sent us careening down a path we didn’t ask for. But looking at that red dragon, how could I? Our first contact was so lovely. The way we had spoken to each other in class was sweet. Neither of us could keep a smile off our faces. Laughing and carrying on, a perfect match of good humor.
I stared at him trying to conjure up feelings of grief, apprehension, fear, irritation or anything negative at all, and I came up with nothing.
I sighed. I could tell that in that other life, in that place of lakes of fire and expanses of the cosmos, that we were really something special. Something strong. Something beautiful. I was not alarmed at our sudden connection, the strength of it, the passion of it.
But if we broke apart from one another in the future—everything in me said no—that alarmed me. The coldness. The despair. The threat of death at an incomplete attunement. At a great falling away into a chasm. It was horrifying that Sasha could literally die from us being separated. It was unfair.
I would never let that happen. How horrible a thought. Not after this Calling had fallen upon him and surprises kept rearing their heads.
I was done writing our poems and, subsequently, my musings. I put my phone back where it belonged. My head was still swirling with all those thoughts, but I shut my eyes and tried to shut down my mind.
I held Sasha again. Even in his sleep he put his arms back around me. It made me smile to be enveloped in his warmth.
Eventually I drifted off to sleep as well.

I don’t know how long I had been asleep when I felt Sasha’s heartbeat pick up enough to wake me. It was the time where night lingers in the earliest of hours. Nothing but the soft murmur of calling insects and wind outside.
I groaned and looked up into Sasha’s face, but he was still sleeping.
“What is it?” I asked, groggy.
“Please,” he slurred.
“Please what?” I whispered, more alert.
He mumbled something more in his sleep. “Make it stop,” he whispered. “Please,” he pleaded. “…the shore...”
I put my hands over my mouth. I didn’t know what he could be dreaming about. It occurred to me that all that talk of pain and wounds might have stemmed from ptsd or something like that. He was in the military after all.
I let him be just in case that’s what it was. I did not want to add additional stress or confusion to a ptsd dream.
Eventually Sasha stirred of his own accord. He opened his eyes and looked around in confusion. I waited until he seemed to be all there with me.
“Hey, you alright?” I didn’t mention his sleep talking.
He didn’t say a word for a moment, just rubbed his eyebrows. Then he patted my back. I let go of him so he could sit up.
He removed his wing from around me, groaning.
“What is it?” I inquired.
Sasha rubbed the sleep from his eyes and looked at me. “I heard your Calling…” he whispered tiredly in wonder, so low I almost didn’t hear him. “It was soft and quiet, almost imperceptible. But I heard it, still, in my sleep…”
My eyes widened, my heart pounding as well. I sat up. “Really?” I whispered back. “What is it like?”
He moved his head to the side, still listening. “Soft waves. A wind chime. A whisper of song. I have heard it before. That is why I awoke,” he said.
“Really?” I asked. My Calling sounded peaceful like being at the beach. Of course, my favorite place. Interesting. I sleepily folded my arms under my head.
“It is very faint.” Sasha closed his eyes. “I know when I heard it.”
“When was that?” I asked.
“You are sleepy still. We can speak of it later.”
I waved him off. “We are awake now. I have no doubt when we say we’ll sleep again it will be no trouble. I fell to sleep easily and so did you.”
Sasha chuckled to himself. “Very well, Leila.” He leaned his back, head against the headboard. His eyes stayed closed.
“I was sitting with my brother, Pasha, upon a stone wall at the beach. It was the evening before I came to this place. I was unsure if I had made the right decision to go with my father. To leave Pasha behind. I had wanted to throw myself into my work to forget the ordeal we had both gone through. But Pasha told me I needed something new, and that whatever it was lie across the ocean waiting for me. Something fulfilling. He said that, surely, wallowing in guilt, in anger and sadness, would not help me heal my wounds although he was dealing with wounds of his own.”
I wondered what wounds he meant. I had seen the scars on his wings. More pain. More scars. Mangled and twisted. He had died and would do so again. Moreover, he had muttered something about the shore. And here it appeared in his story. What had happened to him?
As if sensing my questions, he inhaled deeply.
“I will tell you of the things that transpired eventually. It was… horrible. It is still too raw for me. I apologize for these strange disjointed hints of pain, of suffering.”
“No, no. It’s okay. We will discuss it all later,” I said appreciatively. “Go on.”
“Hmm. Even after Pasha’s encouragement, I still felt apprehension about traveling to this land. All at once, I heard a woman singing on the beach, yet I saw no one.
I heard the sound of wildly swaying wind chimes, of rain, of whipping winds, but there were nothing anywhere to make such sounds.
My brother thought I was crazy. But that voice stirred my spirit as I stared out at that dark water. It was mournful, like a siren in a tempest whose heart had been broken to pieces.
At one point, she whispered a barely discernible plea: ‘Someone, just please help me.’ ‘I can’t do this.’”
I gasped in alarm, my heart hammering away so hard I thought I would have a heart attack. I knew at once the woman was me. It was me who had been pleading in turmoil, with those precise words, wanting someone to swoop down and save me. By the Goddess…
Sasha continued his tale, perhaps not noticing my change in demeanor. “I didn’t know where she was, or what it was she did not want to do, but I told my brother to give me a moment.
I stood and walked along the shore, looking for someone in need, for anything strange. I never found any such woman. I spoke a word of peace to her, whoever she was, wherever she was.”
At the same time, we both said:“Calm your spirit and be at peace. Whatever you feel, just let it exist. Let it be.”
Sasha stopped. He opened his eyes and stared at me in awe. “You heard those words?”
I nodded, heart still pounding. Which of us was having these heart troubles? Him or me?
Sasha shook his head, rubbing his face. “Madness. But truly amazing nonetheless,” he said quietly.
“Yeah…” I responded. I didn’t know what else to say.
“It was you,” he said, not asked.
“I suppose so…”
Sasha continued.
“I returned to my brother to conclude our talk. I told him I wanted to stay a while, and he stayed with me. The song turned into something sweeter after a time. I went looking yet again but never found you. Of course I could not. You were nowhere near me.
Eventually we left. Pasha and I parted ways, and I returned to my home.
No matter what I did, I could not shake your voice from my mind that evening. It sent shivers down my spine. So I returned to the beach. There was nothing else for it; I would have remained awake all night agonizing over my travels the next day anyway. Why not do so surrounded by such mystical music?
I went to a quiet place, book and blanket in hand. The water was complete still, yet the sound of waves was everywhere. Intangible, lapping against the shore.”
I recalled when I had mentioned sitting at the beach watching waves lapping on the shore. He had paused then, as we stood in his living room, thinking of something. I now knew he had recalled this event and wondered at the similarities.
“The sunset was vibrant, strangely so. It was stunning, like a painting. No one else seemed to find the sight of note but me.
You were singing, but again in sorrow. I stayed out there, reading a book and meditating, until others went away from the beach. Until only I remained. Your faint song, the softest whispers of singing, became sweet again. So much singing, you did. By the gods so much singing. It was like a quiet concert.”
I covered my face. “I’m glad you caught them,” I said, laughing.
“There was only one song I caught well enough to hear the words. You sang it over and over. I did not sleep until you uttered nothing more, your voice fading away. I felt empty at the silence, but content in that, perhaps, my presence had calmed this siren, that perhaps her broken heart had somewhat mended. Unfortunately for me; the absence of your songs caused a melancholy to settle in my spirit. A longing. I came here looking for your voice. I questioned your love of voices because it shocked me, the similarities we continue to share.”
“Hmmm,” I vocalized, not unlike he so often did.
Sasha regarded me, shaking his head in wonder. “Repeating that event back, it is obvious that this woman was you. At the time, back when it happened, I regarded it as a very strange occurrence or perhaps my descent into madness,” he said.
“You most certainly are not mad,” I said.
“Indeed. I know very well at this point that your experience across the ocean happened at that time. You knew my words.”
“I remember them well. Just like a lot of things so far, we have these experiences, the aspects of ourselves that are too similar to be a coincidence. We are like mirrors.”
“Only one of us is larger.”
“Sasha!” I exclaimed.
He laughed at me, hugging me. Then he lay down onto the bed again.
“Speak to me of that same evening,” he said.
I sat up slightly, leaning on my elbow, looking into his eyes.
“I was at the beach too. Certainly the same night, the same week you appeared at school. I have this one particular spot on the beach where no one goes but me. I would make myself a wood fire and look at the smoke swirl into tendrils, embers scattering to the wind. I would sit there to watch storms roll in the distance, writing poetry or doing homework or what have you.”
Sasha nodded, acknowledging the picture I painted was the same as his Call. I nudged him, making him smile.
“But that day? I was having an awful time. Every year I dreaded the same thing, but I always escaped. This time, there was no more running. I was cornered, trapped. And the choice was before me. I stared across the ocean and cried. I said it as you heard. ‘I can’t do this. Please help me.’ I just wanted someone to get me out of that situation, but I wasn’t willing to ask for it again. I was so tired of disappointment.
So I’m sitting there in front of these hypnotic flames singing to myself, trying to shake off those bad spirits. Couldn’t even write a poem about my own despair.”
“Impossible. I refuse to believe such nonsense,” he said, chuckling.
“Shocking, I know,” I agreed, smiling. “That’s when I heard a thunderstorm on the horizon. At least there was that, I thought. My greatest comfort to cheer me.
I’m listening to that distant storm, but there were no clouds, no darkness, no strike of lightning. It puzzled me.
But the sky. Oh Sasha, that was the most beautiful sunset I’ve ever seen. The same wonderful night sky you saw. It was brighter than normal, like fire and roses and gold melding with the sea. I have never seen a more beautiful place for the Goddess to drift into slumber.
I stood up and looked around. Further down the beach people were still going into the water, chatting, lazing about, like nothing was happening. Like this gorgeous sky and this distant storm did not exist.
Then I heard this voice. It was faint. Super faint. But so deep—“ I patted his chest, now knowing it was him. “Your voice; you said those words to me such that my soul was contented.”
“Calm your spirit and be at peace. Whatever you feel, just let it exist. Let it be,” he repeated quietly. “I live by these words. I acknowledge the feelings and emotions, the pain and joy, that exist in me, that often loom before me. The negative ones will not simply vanish because I ignore them. Sometimes it is easy to face them. And sometimes it is so, so hard, Leila. So hard it feels impossible. But I try, still.”
“And your way of facing your emotions is the truth. I did as you suggested that night; the intense sorrow I felt was for a reason, for many reasons. And I just let all that sorrow unfold so I could face it. Your words were like a warm hug in the midst of my despair. Thank you.”
“You are always welcome,” he said, stroking my face. “Go on.”
“After that, I stayed out there all night. The storm never showed itself, but only grew louder. It’s like it rolled only for me. And it did, didn’t it?
I slept out there under the stars that night. Didn’t care about school. Didn’t care about anyone or anything. Your voice of peace washed away all my worries. So after that I just sang as the thunder peeled, and I did so all evening and into the night. I started singing to you specifically after that. Joyously. I broke out my best numbers,” I said. I covered my face, cracking up.
He laughed quietly. “Indeed; as I said, what I could discern was beautiful.”
I uncovered my face and smiled. “Thank you,” I said. I sighed, reaching my tale’s conclusion. “The next day I felt like I had come out of a deep meditation. Like the sorrow of yesterday did not exist. I had hoped to the Sun that your voice was the Answer to what troubled me. Then your voice stopped for a time. Until today.”

Chapter 9: Knowing
—
Suggested Listening:
Nicholas Brittel Agape
Required Listening ⭐️ Kwabs Like a Star Cover (Corinne Bailey Rae)
⭐️ Raye Vela Like a Star Cover (Corinne Bailey Rae)
—
“Is your heart doing okay?” I asked.
“Yes. It is fine. I am tired, but alright.”
“Good,” I said. “I was wondering. Can you tell me another poem? And then we can go to sleep.”
Sasha looked at me. “About what?” he said, smoke drifting into my face.
“I don’t know. Tell me one about someone you love.”
“Hmm,” he nodded. “Let’s see.”
He pondered this, then an expression I can only describe as conflicted crept across his face.
“What?” I asked.
“There are few I love so dearly as this person.”
My eyes widened. “Who is it?”
Sasha’s brow furrowed. Then he frowned. At first a little, then deeply.
“What?” I asked gently.
Sasha shook his head. I saw pain now in his expression.
“You don’t have to,” I said, my own brow furrowing. “Please don’t. I can pick something else. Or, actually, we can just go to sleep right now.”
Sasha closed his eyes. Then nodded as if he had come to a decision.
“I will do this. This person I love more than my own self. I would die for him. However, it will not be pretty, this poem.”
I frowned too. “Okay,” I whispered.
“ Sharp Like the tip of a blade Blunt Like the pommel of the same sword Me Like the face of his face Him Like the reflection of my visage Swift Like the bird of prey’s flight Ruthless Like the killing of its hunt Dark Like the night without the moon Troubled Like the Dead River of the Void Alive Like his heart’s beating rhythm Dying Like the joy of his soul “
“Who is that about?” I asked, concerned. “You, ‘the face of his face.’ Your twin?”
“Yes. He is not well,” Sasha said.
“Why? What happened?”
Sasha turned away from me, shaking his head. “It is too heavy to speak of just now. In the future we will.”
“Okay, I get you,” I reassured him.
“Thank you. I worry about him everyday. I call him just as much. I would give my life for him. I owe it to him,” Sasha said fiercely. “He gave his and much more. Because of his strength we survived an ordeal too terrible to speak of.”
I thought back to when he said he felt as if he were dying. I hadn’t known he meant it literally. Then the words he had latched on to: mangled and twisted. A picture was forming. A bad one.
“Thank you for creating this poem. You didn’t have to put yourself through that pain for me,” I said guiltily. Sasha shook his head at me.
“It is okay. Perhaps it was good to express his personality in poetry. It hurts to be away from him in this place. He-“ Sasha stopped. He rubbed his mouth. “I hope he is well enough to come eventually.”
I wondered what he’d been about to say. But I did not press the issue.
“Me too. I’m so sorry you all are dealing with that kind of pain. For what it’s worth, I think the poem you made about him is beautiful. Your brother sounds like a strong Wingscale that’s really going through it right now. I hope whatever joy has been stolen from him—from his soul—renews from the ashes. Or maybe some new joy will settle there, burning brightly.”
“Like a Phoenix,” he smiled. “I will tell him what you said. You two would get along, I think.”
“I can’t wait to meet him then,” I said. I wondered what sort of person he was. Moreover, I found it incredibly interesting that Sasha had a twin considering I did as well. I would tell him that news sometime when he was not already overwhelmed.
“Why don’t you get some rest? You’ve had all kinds of heart attacks and poetry and seen fire wings and what have you,” I suggested.
Sasha chuckled. “Perhaps. I must escape from this. I do not think I have made so many beautiful words manifest as poetry as I have tonight. If I do not sleep I will continue.”
“Okay, right? I usually spend some serious time writing these things. But tonight it’s like my mouth is possessed by my own self.”
“What an apt way to describe it. I feel the same. I acknowledge that my manner of speech is skilled, but tonight it holds a level of eloquence that I did not know I possessed.”
I thought back to his oration, the first thing he recited of our lyrical night. I shivered. “Sasha, you can ‘Speak to me’ anytime. This soul is listening. Eloquence indeed.”
“I promise I will speak to you more oration. You are the only person I know who would enjoy such serious strings of words for your own enjoyment.”
“I have a taste for dignity,” I replied.
Sasha paused. “What more do you need of eloquence when your mouth creates it from nowhere?”
“You have the flavor I want.”
Sasha stared at me incredulously and shook his head. “I am done with you again. You talk me into a trap at every turn.”
I cackled at him. “Alright, alright. It’s time for you go to sleep.”
“Very well,” he said, laughing gently.
I held him closer, although it was impossible. His wing came down over me like a shroud of protection. We held on to each other in silence, not needing anything to fill the space. I just breathed him. Smoke. Fire. Silence. Warmth. Breath. Growl. They spoke enough.
After a while of just laying there in peacefulness, he fell asleep. I could feel the regular inhalations and exhalations marked by the shudder of his chest. And he was a heavy sleeper. Or he was exhausted. Both probably. His flames were still wild even in slumber. Small flickers and tendrils of fire peeked every so often from his mouth. A deep growl emanated from his chest and throat at every exhalation. I stroked Sasha’s face as he slept, the heat of his fire on my hand, and he didn’t move an inch.
I watched him for a while until it occurred to me to write out all the words we had recited to each other. I turned over and reached past his wing to grab my phone from the nightstand. The glow from my screen was strange, it’s blueness cutting through the smoky red in my vision. I sat back and typed every amazing thing we had said.
Those collections of words we had stitched together from nothing just floored me. I had never made poetry like what I did that night. Such passion and beauty.
I looked at Sasha again, thinking about the words that had entranced me from his mouth.
‘Speak to me.’
‘Speak to me.’
The phrase kept ringing out in my chest. He was right. It was a rare thing to find someone who would hang on to your every word with the utmost attention. With actual interest, engagement. I wanted to speak to him forever, about anything. And he would listen. I would listen to him.
I closed my eyes and shook my head at such strong thoughts about a stranger. I thought of all the ‘normal’ people I had dated in the past. The relationships had all gone ‘normally’: date, texting, talking into the night, more dates, sex, dates. Accusations, breakups, crying. Getting over it. Normal stuff.
This was not normal, not in the slightest. Never in all my life had I behaved the way I did under that tree. I was still wondering who that was. Who was the Leila that kissed that way, that straddled dragons in broad daylight? That made love without a first date at all and then swore a stranger to an oath of binding, a whole relationship? That spoke poetry at him from her breath like it was my own fire?
Apparently I was her. It frightened me, the speed with which she and I had moved in one evening. And yet it all felt perfectly normal, inevitable.
Of course I had known when Sasha arrived there was something special about him, no matter how I tried to pretend everything was normal. why was I pretending?
That very first day, when I saw him walk into my morning class, I wasn’t paying attention when he said who he was. I had looked up and locked eyes with him. We held each others gaze for a beat longer than necessary.
Every damn class that day, and the following, I missed him announce his name. It was like a comedy sketch. The writing class we shared was the only one I was paying close attention to, and the professor had written his name on the board of course. It was infuriating.
I watched him like a hawk after he arrived that week. In all that time he didn’t speak around me. And I never spoke to him. Why hadn’t I? What had stopped me?
Just like he said, we just kept Circling each other, but never allowed ourselves to meet at the center of our orbit. He felt the same way. He had said he wanted to speak with me as well but for some reason he didn’t.
It was like a force was beckoning us to each other. To finally meet at the center of a Circle.
This day had been the first time I heard his voice at all. If I had heard it earlier, I would have been completely undone. I would not have let him walk away from me so many times.
I stared at his sleeping form, and a thought came to me again. He avoided speaking around me on purpose. Talking to me. He had known that getting close to me might start something, but had he know it would be his voice that caused such a domino effect? Then again, he knew far more than I did about Callings. Frequencies.
I balked at that word. It was so clumsy, so empty to how it felt. We shared vibes. My soul vibrated on the same wavelength as his body. Our mouths breathed the same breath. Our hearts beat the same.
Sameness. Oneness. Vibes.
He knew something would happen to his body if he let us get too close to each other. I was what he thought I was, and he had failed to prevent that change in us. But he didn’t know anything of how these changes would manifest.
It had happened so fast that he was alarmed to see me standing there in class. As soon as I greeted him, the very second he said ‘hi,’ that curious sound beneath his voice started. The thought that he was so helpless at that moment saddened me the same way it did him when he revealed the permanence of Calling. He never stood a chance. I kissed my hand and continued to stroke his face with that kiss.
And then the wings. The dreams and visions. Those two otherworldly beings… What were we? Were we gods or something? Were we reincarnated versions of them? Possessed? Were they using us? What did any of this mean? I did not know.
I tried to be more upset about this breech on our lives that sent us careening down a path we didn’t ask for. But looking at that red dragon, how could I? Our first contact was so lovely. The way we had spoken to each other in class was sweet. Neither of us could keep a smile off our faces. Laughing and carrying on, a perfect match of good humor.
I stared at him trying to conjure up feelings of grief, apprehension, fear, irritation or anything negative at all, and I came up with nothing.
I sighed. I could tell that in that other life, in that place of lakes of fire and expanses of the cosmos, that we were really something special. Something strong. Something beautiful. I was not alarmed at our sudden connection, the strength of it, the passion of it.
But if we broke apart from one another in the future—everything in me said no—that alarmed me. The coldness. The despair. The threat of death at an incomplete attunement. At a great falling away into a chasm. It was horrifying that Sasha could literally die from us being separated. It was unfair.
I would never let that happen. How horrible a thought. Not after this Calling had fallen upon him and surprises kept rearing their heads.
I was done writing our poems and, subsequently, my musings. I put my phone back where it belonged. My head was still swirling with all those thoughts, but I shut my eyes and tried to shut down my mind.
I held Sasha again. Even in his sleep he put his arms back around me. It made me smile to be enveloped in his warmth.
Eventually I drifted off to sleep as well.

I don’t know how long I had been asleep when I felt Sasha’s heartbeat pick up enough to wake me. It was the time where night lingers in the earliest of hours. Nothing but the soft murmur of calling insects and wind outside.
I groaned and looked up into Sasha’s face, but he was still sleeping.
“What is it?” I asked, groggy.
“Please,” he slurred.
“Please what?” I whispered, more alert.
He mumbled something more in his sleep. “Make it stop,” he whispered. “Please,” he pleaded. “…the shore...”
I put my hands over my mouth. I didn’t know what he could be dreaming about. It occurred to me that all that talk of pain and wounds might have stemmed from ptsd or something like that. He was in the military after all.
I let him be just in case that’s what it was. I did not want to add additional stress or confusion to a ptsd dream.
Eventually Sasha stirred of his own accord. He opened his eyes and looked around in confusion. I waited until he seemed to be all there with me.
“Hey, you alright?” I didn’t mention his sleep talking.
He didn’t say a word for a moment, just rubbed his eyebrows. Then he patted my back. I let go of him so he could sit up.
He removed his wing from around me, groaning.
“What is it?” I inquired.
Sasha rubbed the sleep from his eyes and looked at me. “I heard your Calling…” he whispered tiredly in wonder, so low I almost didn’t hear him. “It was soft and quiet, almost imperceptible. But I heard it, still, in my sleep…”
My eyes widened, my heart pounding as well. I sat up. “Really?” I whispered back. “What is it like?”
He moved his head to the side, still listening. “Soft waves. A wind chime. A whisper of song. I have heard it before. That is why I awoke,” he said.
“Really?” I asked. My Calling sounded peaceful like being at the beach. Of course, my favorite place. Interesting. I sleepily folded my arms under my head.
“It is very faint.” Sasha closed his eyes. “I know when I heard it.”
“When was that?” I asked.
“You are sleepy still. We can speak of it later.”
I waved him off. “We are awake now. I have no doubt when we say we’ll sleep again it will be no trouble. I fell to sleep easily and so did you.”
Sasha chuckled to himself. “Very well, Leila.” He leaned his back, head against the headboard. His eyes stayed closed.
“I was sitting with my brother, Pasha, upon a stone wall at the beach. It was the evening before I came to this place. I was unsure if I had made the right decision to go with my father. To leave Pasha behind. I had wanted to throw myself into my work to forget the ordeal we had both gone through. But Pasha told me I needed something new, and that whatever it was lie across the ocean waiting for me. Something fulfilling. He said that, surely, wallowing in guilt, in anger and sadness, would not help me heal my wounds although he was dealing with wounds of his own.”
I wondered what wounds he meant. I had seen the scars on his wings. More pain. More scars. Mangled and twisted. He had died and would do so again. Moreover, he had muttered something about the shore. And here it appeared in his story. What had happened to him?
As if sensing my questions, he inhaled deeply.
“I will tell you of the things that transpired eventually. It was… horrible. It is still too raw for me. I apologize for these strange disjointed hints of pain, of suffering.”
“No, no. It’s okay. We will discuss it all later,” I said appreciatively. “Go on.”
“Hmm. Even after Pasha’s encouragement, I still felt apprehension about traveling to this land. All at once, I heard a woman singing on the beach, yet I saw no one.
I heard the sound of wildly swaying wind chimes, of rain, of whipping winds, but there were nothing anywhere to make such sounds.
My brother thought I was crazy. But that voice stirred my spirit as I stared out at that dark water. It was mournful, like a siren in a tempest whose heart had been broken to pieces.
At one point, she whispered a barely discernible plea: ‘Someone, just please help me.’ ‘I can’t do this.’”
I gasped in alarm, my heart hammering away so hard I thought I would have a heart attack. I knew at once the woman was me. It was me who had been pleading in turmoil, with those precise words, wanting someone to swoop down and save me. By the Goddess…
Sasha continued his tale, perhaps not noticing my change in demeanor. “I didn’t know where she was, or what it was she did not want to do, but I told my brother to give me a moment.
I stood and walked along the shore, looking for someone in need, for anything strange. I never found any such woman. I spoke a word of peace to her, whoever she was, wherever she was.”
At the same time, we both said:“Calm your spirit and be at peace. Whatever you feel, just let it exist. Let it be.”
Sasha stopped. He opened his eyes and stared at me in awe. “You heard those words?”
I nodded, heart still pounding. Which of us was having these heart troubles? Him or me?
Sasha shook his head, rubbing his face. “Madness. But truly amazing nonetheless,” he said quietly.
“Yeah…” I responded. I didn’t know what else to say.
“It was you,” he said, not asked.
“I suppose so…”
Sasha continued.
“I returned to my brother to conclude our talk. I told him I wanted to stay a while, and he stayed with me. The song turned into something sweeter after a time. I went looking yet again but never found you. Of course I could not. You were nowhere near me.
Eventually we left. Pasha and I parted ways, and I returned to my home.
No matter what I did, I could not shake your voice from my mind that evening. It sent shivers down my spine. So I returned to the beach. There was nothing else for it; I would have remained awake all night agonizing over my travels the next day anyway. Why not do so surrounded by such mystical music?
I went to a quiet place, book and blanket in hand. The water was complete still, yet the sound of waves was everywhere. Intangible, lapping against the shore.”
I recalled when I had mentioned sitting at the beach watching waves lapping on the shore. He had paused then, as we stood in his living room, thinking of something. I now knew he had recalled this event and wondered at the similarities.
“The sunset was vibrant, strangely so. It was stunning, like a painting. No one else seemed to find the sight of note but me.
You were singing, but again in sorrow. I stayed out there, reading a book and meditating, until others went away from the beach. Until only I remained. Your faint song, the softest whispers of singing, became sweet again. So much singing, you did. By the gods so much singing. It was like a quiet concert.”
I covered my face. “I’m glad you caught them,” I said, laughing.
“There was only one song I caught well enough to hear the words. You sang it over and over. I did not sleep until you uttered nothing more, your voice fading away. I felt empty at the silence, but content in that, perhaps, my presence had calmed this siren, that perhaps her broken heart had somewhat mended. Unfortunately for me; the absence of your songs caused a melancholy to settle in my spirit. A longing. I came here looking for your voice. I questioned your love of voices because it shocked me, the similarities we continue to share.”
“Hmmm,” I vocalized, not unlike he so often did.
Sasha regarded me, shaking his head in wonder. “Repeating that event back, it is obvious that this woman was you. At the time, back when it happened, I regarded it as a very strange occurrence or perhaps my descent into madness,” he said.
“You most certainly are not mad,” I said.
“Indeed. I know very well at this point that your experience across the ocean happened at that time. You knew my words.”
“I remember them well. Just like a lot of things so far, we have these experiences, the aspects of ourselves that are too similar to be a coincidence. We are like mirrors.”
“Only one of us is larger.”
“Sasha!” I exclaimed.
He laughed at me, hugging me. Then he lay down onto the bed again.
“Speak to me of that same evening,” he said.
I sat up slightly, leaning on my elbow, looking into his eyes.
“I was at the beach too. Certainly the same night, the same week you appeared at school. I have this one particular spot on the beach where no one goes but me. I would make myself a wood fire and look at the smoke swirl into tendrils, embers scattering to the wind. I would sit there to watch storms roll in the distance, writing poetry or doing homework or what have you.”
Sasha nodded, acknowledging the picture I painted was the same as his Call. I nudged him, making him smile.
“But that day? I was having an awful time. Every year I dreaded the same thing, but I always escaped. This time, there was no more running. I was cornered, trapped. And the choice was before me. I stared across the ocean and cried. I said it as you heard. ‘I can’t do this. Please help me.’ I just wanted someone to get me out of that situation, but I wasn’t willing to ask for it again. I was so tired of disappointment.
So I’m sitting there in front of these hypnotic flames singing to myself, trying to shake off those bad spirits. Couldn’t even write a poem about my own despair.”
“Impossible. I refuse to believe such nonsense,” he said, chuckling.
“Shocking, I know,” I agreed, smiling. “That’s when I heard a thunderstorm on the horizon. At least there was that, I thought. My greatest comfort to cheer me.
I’m listening to that distant storm, but there were no clouds, no darkness, no strike of lightning. It puzzled me.
But the sky. Oh Sasha, that was the most beautiful sunset I’ve ever seen. The same wonderful night sky you saw. It was brighter than normal, like fire and roses and gold melding with the sea. I have never seen a more beautiful place for the Goddess to drift into slumber.
I stood up and looked around. Further down the beach people were still going into the water, chatting, lazing about, like nothing was happening. Like this gorgeous sky and this distant storm did not exist.
Then I heard this voice. It was faint. Super faint. But so deep—“ I patted his chest, now knowing it was him. “Your voice; you said those words to me such that my soul was contented.”
“Calm your spirit and be at peace. Whatever you feel, just let it exist. Let it be,” he repeated quietly. “I live by these words. I acknowledge the feelings and emotions, the pain and joy, that exist in me, that often loom before me. The negative ones will not simply vanish because I ignore them. Sometimes it is easy to face them. And sometimes it is so, so hard, Leila. So hard it feels impossible. But I try, still.”
“And your way of facing your emotions is the truth. I did as you suggested that night; the intense sorrow I felt was for a reason, for many reasons. And I just let all that sorrow unfold so I could face it. Your words were like a warm hug in the midst of my despair. Thank you.”
“You are always welcome,” he said, stroking my face. “Go on.”
“After that, I stayed out there all night. The storm never showed itself, but only grew louder. It’s like it rolled only for me. And it did, didn’t it?
I slept out there under the stars that night. Didn’t care about school. Didn’t care about anyone or anything. Your voice of peace washed away all my worries. So after that I just sang as the thunder peeled, and I did so all evening and into the night. I started singing to you specifically after that. Joyously. I broke out my best numbers,” I said. I covered my face, cracking up.
He laughed quietly. “Indeed; as I said, what I could discern was beautiful.”
I uncovered my face and smiled. “Thank you,” I said. I sighed, reaching my tale’s conclusion. “The next day I felt like I had come out of a deep meditation. Like the sorrow of yesterday did not exist. I had hoped to the Sun that your voice was the Answer to what troubled me. Then your voice stopped for a time. Until today.”

IHave
AFRO :

• Notre Dame - Citizen 99
• Headson - Bensy
• Guapo & Peaty - 6pm In Casablanca
• Enoo Napa feat. Priscilla - Shadows
• Anton Khabbaz & Dylan Lee - DiDi
• Prada (David Mackay & Marcus Santoro Remix)
• Caiiro - Son Of Mar
• Anyma - Pictures Of You (FromParis Remix)
• Location (DARREN & JOSEPH Remix)
• Roy Rosenfeld & Sébastien Léger - Panko Day {Played by Keinemusik}
• Sparrow & Barbossa - Miracle (Voice Mix)
• Perreo - Quentro & Tuna, Kuntay
• Merzzy - Istanbul
• Jamek Ortega - Voices
• Daughter of the Sun (Ankhoï Remix)
• Angéle - Taxi (Ankhoï Remix)
• Ankhoï - Sandiya
• Ankhoï - Clound
• Ankhoï - No sleep
• Ankhoï - Corazon
• Ankhoï - After All Night Shift
• Ankhoï - Another Hallelujah (Mont Rouge Private Edit)
• Uncle Waffles - Tanzânia (Rampa Remix)
• Toto - Africa (Rampa Edit)
• Together - Janet Jackson (Rampa Remix)
• Zouk Machine - Maldon (Rampa Edit)
• France Gall - Ella, elle l'a (Rampa Remix)
• Busta, Rampa, Black Coffeee - Mamakusa
• Rampa - Cezaralina (Best Quality)
• Drake & Rampa - Virgil Forever (Instrumental)
• Fortress - Diplo ( Rampa Remix )
• Go Low L.A.X (Rampa Edit)
• &Me, Rampa - Tong 4 (Original Mix)
• Travis Scott - Butterfly (&Me Remix)
• Feel - ABRA (&ME & Sasha Tigresa Edit)
• Ilanga - Masšh (&Me Edit)
• Lakou Mizik, Joseph Ray - Samba Yo Pan Pale (&Me Remix)
• Brandy - Almost Doesn’t Count (&ME Edit)
• Da Africa Deep - Humans (&ME edit)
• CUT It Off (&Me) (16khz)
• Dirty Chanel’s- Slaves (&Me Remix)
• Joris Voorn - Homeland feat. Matthew Dear (&Me Remix) {Jinadu Vocal Edit}
• Simian Mobile Disco - Caught In A Wave (&ME Remix)
• Adam Port, Massi, Ninae - All I Got
• Adam Port, Chris IDH & Adassiya - By Myself
• Drake - Confusion ( Keinemusik Remix )
• Drake - A Keeper ( Keinemusik Remix ) (16Khz)
• The Temper Trap - Sweet Disposition ( Keinemusik Remix ) (16Khz)
• Rampa, Keinemusik - Salalina (Best Quality)
• Rampa, Keinemusik - Salalina ( Darmon Edit)
• Keinemusik - Muye (Enoo Napa Remix)
• Enoo Napa feat. Priscilla - Shadows
• Michael Jackson - Thriller (Black Coffee Remix)
• DJ Merlon - BroCode ft. Enoo Napa (Mont Rouge's interpretation)
• Vitoto & NiteFreak - XXXXXXX
• Arodes & Fahlberg - She Asked me to Dance
• Tato - Merah
• Tato - Juremas Flower
• Alegria - ARYMÉ & OSFUR ( Chris IDH Remix )
• Bruno Mars - Grenade (ChrisIDH rmx)
• Chris IDH - 7 nation
• Michael Jackson - Hollywood tonight (Chris IDH Remix)
• Victor Alc - Essamina
• Victor Alc - I Know You Know
• Victor Alc - Hangin Tree
• Victor Alc - Alma
• Victor Alc - Sudamérica
• Victor Alc - Boreal
• Victor Alc, Murilo Tronco - Forma De Querer
• Kawz, Mehen - I Feel It [Tortuga]
• Sparrow & Barbossa, PJ Sin Suela - Si Te Vas (Original Mix)
• Coolio - Gangsta Paradise (Moojo Edit)
• Carlita, Mojoo - Havana
• Outkast - Ms. Jackson (Moojo Remix)
• Coco, Joezi, Pape Diouf - 7 Seconds (Moojo Remix)
• Michael Jackson - Billy Late Jean ( Moojo Edit )
• Moojo - Lisboa
• Moojo, Demeya - Hot N fun
• Moojo - Atitude
• Moojo ft Gabsy - Ze Roberto
• Moojo - I Whant Your Soul
• Moojo - GTA
• Moojo - Meditation
• Moojo, Carlita ft. Gabsy - Macaron
• Moojo - Giant Ft. Awen
• Cairo - Here We Are (Moojo Remix)
• Moojo - Oui
• Hall & Oats - Maneater (Moojo Edit)
• Rihana - Stay (Moojo Remix)
• Moojo ft Starving yet Full - Limitless Vocal Version
• Moojo,Da Capo - What U Desaire (Vocal Mix)
• Post Malone - I Fall Apart (Moojo Remix)
• Drake - A KEEPER (Moojo Remix)
• &friends, Joseph (CH) - Jackie Brown
• &friends, Lily’s Mandre - Blending Love
• Akon - Smack That (&Friends Edit)
• Jack Ü Ft. Justin Bieber - Where Are Ü Now (&Friends Remix)
• &Friends - Oya Jo (16khz)
• Abdel Kader - Monte Rougue
• Love Me Back (Raffa Guido Remix)
• Davido - FEEL (Raffa Guido Remix)
• Raffa Guido - Preguntas
• Valeron, Payment & Klaudia Touch Me (Sam (GR) Children Touch)
• Marten Lou - Better Days
• Marten Lou, Issy - Hide U
• Camelphat & Eynka & Delilah Montagu - What A Day (Marten Lou Remix)
• Mont Rouge - Belsunce
• VXSION - Love Preparetions (Slow Down Edit)
• Classy 101 (VXSION, Maz Remix)
• Empire Of The Sun- Walking On A Dream VXSION Remix)
• Jovem Dionisio - Pontos de Exclamação (VXSION Remix)
• Milky Chance - Stolen Dance (VXSION Remix)
• Donna Summer - I Feel Love (VXSION Remix)
• Rui Da Silva - Touch Me (Peace Control Remix)
• Drake - Sticky (Peace Control Remix)
• Arya (Peace Control Remix)
• Look Around You - Ain't Nobody (Alex Wann Edit)
• ROUTE 94, Jesse Glynne - My Love (Alex Wann Remix)
• Craig David - 7 Days (Alex Wann X Sparrow & Barbossa Remix)
• FCLT - Fell It’s You (Alex Wann remix)
• Zhu - Faded (Alex Wann Remix)
• HUGEL, Alex Wann - Forever In My Mind
• Alright - Red Carpet (Kashovski & Abel Ray Remix)
• Malive, Luiza Gogoia, Morgado - Quintal
• Sérgio Mendes - Mas Que Nada (Ahmed Spins Edit)
• ANOTR, Abel Balder - Vertigo (Carlita Remix)
• Kura - Sentir Saudade (Guapo, Antdot Remix)
• Drake - Finesse (Antdot Remix)
• Folamour, Amadou & Mariam - Voyage (Antdot Remix)
• Key Notez - Your Love Ain't The Same ( Maz Remix )
• Maz - Ndaciii
• Maz, Antdot - Emorio
• Peaty - 6pm In Casablanca
• Peaty - KILOSA (Afro Melodic Mix)
• PEATY - Ouda
• MoBlack, Benja, Franc Fala - Yamore
• Black Cofee, David Guetta - Drive (Da Capo Remix)
• Empire Of The Sun- Walking On A Dream (Da Capo Remix)
• Da Capo - KRIPT Apparat Main
• Michael Jackson - Billy Jean (Da Capo Remix)
• Coco, Joezi, Pape Diouf - 7 Seconds (Da Capo Remix)
• Dennis Ferrer - Touched The Sky (Da Capo Dub Afro)
• Drake - A Keeper (Guapo remix)
• CamelPhat - Home (Samm (BE) & Ajna (BE) Remix)
• Super Flu - Lovesong
• Super Flu - Believe
• Super Flu feat. Malive - Loira
• David Mackay, Dela Sur - Carnaval Breve
• Dj Yellow, Flowers And Sea Creatures - No One Gets Left Behind (BLOND.ISH Beirut Edit)
• The Temper Trap - Sweet Disposition (DSF, Chris IDH & Dino MFU Remix)
• Harry Styles - Sign of the Times (DSF Edit)
• Royksopp - Running To The Sea (DSF Edit)
• Depeche Mode - Enjoy The Silence (DSF Edit)
• Kid Cudi - Day 'n' Nite (Kiko Franco Remix)
• Tyla - Water (Kiko Franco Remix)
• Moo J - Collateral Damage
• Moon J, Nani - Quema
• RY X - Howling (Legare Remix)
• Marten Lou - Radiohead 40
• Notredame - Frankenstein
• Notredame - Think about
• Kimotion, Quentro & Tuna - Yame (Becane Remix)
• Lazare - I Don’t Control
• Downstream - Makèz, Life On Planets (Lazare Remix)
• Bun Xapa - Paris
• Darren - Flauta (dan Edit)
• Sounds Of RItuals, Darmon - Seva (Rolling In The Deep)
• Moderat, Keinemusik - More Love (Kalidon Mykonos Mashup)
• &ME, Time - Not Alone (Dorian Craft Edit)
• Luchii - Vertebrea (SOMMA Remix)
• Anton Khabbaz & Dylan Lee - DiDi
• Armin Van Buuren ft. Sharon den Adel - In and Out of Love (Rivo Remix)
• Black Coffee - Juju (Chaleee & Sammi Ferrer Escalation Remix)
• Ikerfoxx - I Can’t Get Enough
• Juan Luis Guirra - La Travesia (Samm Touch)
• Lemon Glow - Beach House (Marten Lou Remix)
• MARASI - Sirens
• Non Grata - Pana
• Sade - By Your Side (Samm Edit)
• Hassan - Shik Shak Shok (Kimotion Remix)
• Thondizl - Sidi Sidi (Extended Edit)
• Stromae - Papaoutai (Francis Mercier Remix)
• Vorso - Wannabe (Kimotion Remix)
• Shimza & Caiiro - Nyali
• Estelle - American Boy (Betical remix)
• Tough Love - Sailor & I (Betical Remix)
• Kanye West, Ty Dolla ign - Paid (Imad Remix)
• Salif Keita - Madan (Marco Generani Remix)
• Babyboy AV - Confession (ALX YAV Remix)
• Moeaike Ft. Ed Begley- What Is Control
• Hakim - Ah Ya Albi (Ajna & Samm Edit)
• Ajna - Move
• Fatboy Slim - Right Here, Right Now (Soubeiran Remix)
• Pablo Fierro - Kababo (Unreleased Version)
• Compay Segundo - Chan Chan (Pablo Fierro Version)
• Sérgio Mendes - Mas Que Nada (Riascode Remix)
• Chaleee & Marco Pex - Your Hands (Original Mix)
• Dennis Ferrer - Hey Hey (Mr. Moudz Afroboot Edit)

MEODIC :

• Adam Ten - Kepler
• Adam Ten - Deep Love
• Adam Ten - Carovana
• Adam Tem - 3 Days (16khz)
• Quentin Harris - Warning (Adam Ten & Mita Gami Re-Edit)
• Classix - All By My Self (Mita Gami Edit)
• Moby - In This World (Mita Gami Edit)
• Mita Gami - Danger
• Pink Floyd - Confortably Numb (Mita Gami Sunrise Edit)
• Solique - Heat Of The Moment
• Solique - Mood In The Jungle
• Ego Maria - T Mapper Native
• Ego Maria, Toto Chiavetta - Cells Under Attack
• Colle - Thoughts (Original Mix)
• Colle - Something to Believe (Original Mix)
• Santiago Garcia - You In The Sky (Original M
• Toto Chiavetta - Acqua (Original Mix)
• Jenia Tarsol & Jinga - Takadoom (Argy Edit)
• RÜFÜS DU SOL - New Sky (Colyn Sunrise Remix)
• Skepta - Bullet from a Gun (Colyn Private Edit)
• London Grammar - Hey Now (Fox Omar Remix)
• Depeche Mode - Enjoy The Silence (Will Clark Remix) (16khz)
• London Grammar - Hey Now (Cristoph Private Mix)
• Opus III- Fine Night (Cristoph's Private Edit)
• Nelly Furtado - Say it Right (Adana Twins Remix)
• RY X & Frank Wiedemann - Howling (Tinlicker Prague Edit)
• The XX - Fiction (Eagles & Butterflies Remix)
• Massive Attack - Teardrop (Antony Toga Remix)
• Cassius - The Sound Of Violence (Antony Toga Background DiscoVox Version)
• Sting - Desert Rose (SOEL Remix)
• Starsailor - Four to the floor (Mångata Projekt Rework)
• Sin Cos Tan - Destroyer (Adriatique Remix)
• Anna Caragnano - Parola (Erly Tepshi Edit)
• Yotam Avni - Island Hopper (Franky & Sandrino Remix)
• Rebuke - Along Came Polly (Konstantin Sibold, Zac, Carmee Remix)
• Armin Van Buuren - Yet Another Day (8Kays Remix)
• The Beatles - Because (Bedouin Edit)
• Bedouin - Pushing Down
• Eagles & Butterflies - ITALO (16khz)
• Jimi Jules - Love
• Tal Fussman - North
• Tal Fussaman - Sam Shure - Inferno
• Tal Fussaman - Childrem Of 95 (V3 Instrumental)
• OPUS III - It's A Fine Day (Aera's Finite Edit)
• Amê - Mifune (Dixon Acustic Edit)
• Jimi Jules - Palpitations
• Jimi Jules - Run (FT Remix)
• Schneider TM, Kptmichigan - The Light 3000 (Aera Private Edit)
• AIKON, Sobek - Burning Hats (Dixon Edit)
• Kavinsky - Nightcall (Dixon's Private Edit)
• Maind Against - Love Seeking
• Maind Against - Hydra
• Chis Bake - Ride (Mind Against Remix)
• Mathame - There Is The Light
• Mathame - Brothers
• Ae:ther, Mind Against - Black Museum
• Ae:ther, Marino Canal - White Atlas V2
• Artbat - Dark Knight (16khz)
• Yet More - Don't Let Go
• Dan Croll - From Nowhere (Âme Remix)
• MGMT - Eletric Feel (Ivory’s Eletric Reshape) (16khz)
• Amber Run - I Found (Ivory's Re-Found Edit)
• Billie Eilish - Everything I Wanted (Ivory Head Underwater Remix)
• Christopher Cross - Ride Like The Wind (Ivory’s On The Run Edit)
• Trikk - Untitled (16khz)
• Amnesia Scanner - CAT (Dixon & Trikk Rework) (16khz)
• Ivory (IT), Tal Fussman - Labyrinth
• Ivory - Identity
• Ivory - Lovers Hymn
• Ivory - Mirrors
• Ivory - Eye Blink
• Ivory - Jewel
• Ivory - Acid Rain
• Ivory - Conquest Of Space
• Ivory - Upon A Time
• Fideles - Lost In Town
• Hard To Tell - No Matter
• Hard To Tell - Stranger
• Aera - Pullunder
• Aera - Puzzle Emotivo
• Echonomist - Overseas
• Echonomist - Ikaros
• Echonomist - Lullaby
• Lil Yachty - I've officially lost vision (Tim Engelhardt Edit)
• Kevin di Serna - Amapola (Toto Chiavetta Remix)
• Noir Haze - Around (Nico De Andrea Remix)

Parents went out of town leaving me all alone for a while. I've been having a good time so far, getting a glimpse of what it would be like if I were really in the absence of all others like I've fantasized about for so long. I'm free to do most things I want unaccosted as long as I don't leave the house. Mostly I'm just wearing my girl clothes or sometimes just my underwear. I've been keeping the lights low and relying on natural light from the windows. That combined with the rain and the silence gives everything an eerie feel. I still hate leaving my room for extended periods of time but I had a moment last night where I was making dinner in the oven as the light outside was fading away. I was getting bored waiting for dinner to cook as I couldn't bring my desktop into the kitchen and didn't feel like idly browsing reddit or watching TV so I brought out my switch and put in smash bros for the first time in ages. I definitely felt the absence of something then, perhaps just the absence of external pressure or something. I don't think it was anything too deep it just felt great. I do think I moved myself into a deeper part of my mind though, the outskirts of a region I call the torchlit abyss. I suppose I'll have to explain that in greater detail later.
I know it's just a fantasy but a large part of me still holds out hope that I'll slip through some crack in reality and end up in Absence for real. Really what I want is a life unaccosted where people aren't constantly being pitted against each other in nearly every aspect of our lives. Its just the only way I can see that happening is if there were no other people at all.