Bang! The ugly sound reverberated through the building. John Doe took another step up the metal stairs. Reaching the roof, he saw Zheanni. Bloodied knuckles staring over Apris' city skyline. The moon hung bright over their monstrous building.
Looking to the right of her, one would notice there was a massive fist-shaped crater in the metal maintenance building.
Before he had the chance to speak, she whirled on him. "Again! Conor is chosen over me again! Every time I stand on business! I was in this shit longer than he was. He joined after me, yet this dude is given the crest…" She began to choke up, "I worked…so fuckin' hard. How much you wanna bet that if I was running shit, Poatan wouldn't be dead!" She took a deep breath, the anger returning. She swore loudly, pacing back and forth across the roof. Walking back to John Doe, "Also, I'm stronger than the guy, too! If we ever fought, like for real, I'd run his shit so quick, you don't even know!"
"Did Paul choosing Conor over you have something to do with my arrival?"
"Uh...no." Zheanni said, surprised by the question, but quickly, her usual scowl returned. "Nah, it was already being done long before you. Story of my fuckin' fucked up life. It's like, I know I'm better than that dude. I've spent my whole fuckin' life proving myself to my family, but I'm always second. My dad, Paul, just ignores me. It'd be like if I was over here doing backflips through a flaming hoop at two years old, and you were there, just learning how to walk, and he was over there congratulating you. It's bullshit!" Stopping, she sighed, looking up at the stars, "At least they're nice."
"Stars are beautiful to humans," John Doe said, "but it's a devilish trick of the highest level. Angels of light."
Giving a skeptical look, "'To humans'? You say that as if you ain't." She was gonna crack a joke but stopped, seeing the uncomfortable look on his face. Was it her imagination, or were his eyelashes growing?
"That's the thing. I'm really not. Well, not entirely human. I'm getting there."
"You've totally lost it." Zheanni decided.
"Yeah, maybe," he chuckled. "Here," he took off his loose-fitting jacket, revealing his bare chest. Putting a hand over his heart, he pulled, and it was as if a door in his chest swung open, revealing a gaping void.
Zheanni stared, transfixed. As if his body was hollow, as if there was a dense dark energy beneath his exterior shell. Not realizing what she was doing, her hand reached forward. Quickly, instinctively, his hand moved to stop her, but he paused, letting his arm fall to his side. Tentatively, Zheanni stuck her hand inside.
"I had this idea a long time ago," John Doe said. "Where I would cut out all of my humanity, to deify oneself, destroy all that is good, to chase euphoria. Though, as I found, it was too late, I'm reminded of my remaining humanity every time this happens," he gestured at his ever-growing eyelashes. "The more I tried to satisfy it, the bigger the desire became. I didn't spare my heart to any desires of the flesh. I indulged in it all until it ripped me apart. Immorality is a bottomless pit. A slippery slope. Sin will take you farther than you intended to go, keep you longer than you intended to stay, and cost you more than you intended to pay. I found a way to put myself back together again, but it's just a bandaid over a gunshot. Sometimes, it literally makes me go crazy." His voice was filled with warning, "I don't really know why I'm saying this, but I guess I just want to warn you. The demonic stuff you're getting into with that other realm…You have to stay away from them…and me. All we have are Faustian bargains."
Zheanni's fingers felt like she was moving them through an icy gel. She looked from the void into his eyes; her tongue ran along the diamonds in her teeth. "This must take so much energy." She said with quiet awe. Even before she had touched it, she felt the power of his energy vibrate the air around them.
"You know what, Zheanni?"
"Hm?"
"You're pretty cute when you let go."
"I-" She felt her face heat up to a million degrees.
They continued talking, the building shaking slightly from the party happening under them; a slow spacey-lofi beat played. The neon lights of the city painted the bright night sky while the moonlight carved their shadows against the roof.
Several months earlier. Deep in an underground building. The woman let out a blood curling scream in pain. She bounced around the hospital bed as the two doctors quickly whisked her down the red hallway. Minutes ago, the three sat, talking, surrounded by a hospital cubicle curtain. A bright light shined down overhead.
"I'm so happy for you!" One of the doctors said. She could tell he was smiling behind his mask.
"Thanks," she forced a smile, adjusting herself, feeling uncomfortable on the bed.
"What's its name?"
"I-I'm not sure yet," she smiled awkwardly.
"Dear, where's your family?"
"My…You mean, the father?"
"Yes."
"Uhm," her words caught in her throat; she groaned, feeling movement in her stomach. "I don't know."
The two doctors exchanged looks.
"I-I just know this experience and this baby will push me forward to my dreams—an actress. It will inspire me."
"Oh, I'm sure it most certainly will," they both said in unison, turning to look at her.
"AAAGH!" The woman grabbed her stomach. "It's-It's AAAAAAAGHGHGH!!!"
The doctors both nodded at each other, putting on their gloves. They pushed the bed out of the room and down the hall.
"Where are we going?" The woman asked, bewildered. "You said that was the place. Where are you taking me?"
The two didn't respond. She reached out for the other doctors in the hallway. Gripping the metal railing of the bed, she writhed in pain. Her screams echoed off the walls "It's so painful!"
"You're having a baby. What the fuck do you expect?" One of the doctors rolled his eyes.
John Doe leaned against the wall, watching as the three of them barged into the room.
"W-AAAAHHH! W-who is that?" She pointed at him. "He's not a doctor!"
"That's our John Doe!" One said gleefully, pushing the bed into the center of the room.
Stepping forward, John Doe looked down into her eyes, asking, "Are you ready?"
"N-no. I don't know. What—"
"Sorry!" The other doctor loudly slammed his hand on the bed for humorous affect, "You made an agreement!"
The other responded with a sing-song voice, "One that can't be reneged."
"Now open your legs!" they flung their arms out dramatically.
Groaning in pain, she did as she was told.
"There we go," John Doe said.
"Push!" The Doctor yelled.
"Let's go!" The other encouraged.
"FUUUU-" the woman wailed as blood flung in strands across the room.
"We're gonna be here all night if you don't start pushin', girl!"
"Push! Come on!"
"Any day now!"
"He's going to be a fighter," John Doe mentioned.
"Huh?" One of the doctors yelled over the commotion. "How do you know that?"
"I just know."
Returning their attention to the woman, "You're gonna have to push a lot harder than that!"
She breathed, her pillow soaked from sweat and tears. She panted.
"Oh, gimmie a break. Can you help or are you just gonna stand there?" the doctor glared at John Doe. "Please?" they asked in a slow, mocking tone.
John Doe approached, energy moving around him.
"This is worth it," the woman mumbled. "This is worth it. This is worth it."
"Push!"
"There we go, there's the head!" The doctor pointed.
The other one reached, pulling the baby out. Holding it up in the light for all to see. Marveling it.
After several seconds, the baby began to scream. Its new lungs filling with oxygen. "There, there," the doctor handed the baby to John Doe, who cradled it in his arms.
"I wanna see…him," the woman said, holding her hands out, "I wanna hold him."
John Doe looked from the baby boy's face to the woman's.
The room was alive with an obnoxious music tone. "I'm expecting this," John Doe took the ringing phone from his pocket, answering it. Walking out of the room into the hallway, while still holding the boy.
"No!" The woman gasped, trying to roll out of the bed, but being held down by the doctors. "I wanna see him!"
"John Doe." Paul Silvio's deep voice vibrated over the phone.
"Mr. Silvio, what do I owe the pleasure?"
"I was just wanting to circle back on that talk we had last time. Are you still interested?"
"Oh, of course," John Doe smiled.
"You will be, temporarily, the effective leader of KTA. You will meet with them two days before the event week starts."
Apris, present time. The red convertible pulled to the security checkpoint.
"If you don't live here or aren't renting, you can't be here," the guard said. Looking from the driver to the two kids in back. One had their nose buried in their phone, while the other wore large sunglasses. "What's your name?" She asked.
"Ugh," Ayla rolled her eyes, removing her sunglasses, and pushing herself off Ethan. Pointing to her face, "You know me?"
The security guard's face brightened with recognition. "Oh, Ms.Park!" She said with surprise. "I…I never thought I'd see someone like you here."
"Why not?"
"You're a little young…aren't you?" She wavered. "Look, maybe I should—"
Spotting a photo of the guard on the desk, Ayla smiled at her, "How about a picture?"
The woman was confused.
"For your daughter," she pointed to the frame.
After, Ayla got back into the car, smiling at the guard, putting a finger to her lips, "If anyone asks, I'm not here right now."
"You can go," Ethan called up to the driver, his guard, Kashi, who nodded, pulling forward.
The doors of the elevator closed on the two's reflection. As they ascended upward, Ayla cocked her head, realizing that she hadn't heard any music, asking, "What kinda vibe is the party."
"Real mellow. Chill. You think you can handle that?"
"I can be mellow. I can be chill."
"You always say the right thing," he smiled. "Like just now with that guard back there."
"Lucky, I guess," She grinned deviously. As the doors opened, a wave of smoke entered the elevator. They walked, hand-in-hand, through the loft. A spacey-lofi song flowed through the crowded, smoke-filled penthouse. Large projectors were tilted to aim at the ceiling, rotating kaleidoscopes of stars as if you were dancing and smoking under the night sky.
Ethan pointed to a bar with a cashier behind it. What caught Ayla's attention was the lack of alcohol on any of the shelves, just mason jars and vacuum-sealed bags full of weed.
After several doors, he finally found an empty room and walked inside it. Ethan flopped back on the bed, and Ayla sat next to him.
"You keep saying that, though," Ethan sat up on his elbows, looking at her.
"What?"
"Lucky. That you're lucky all the time. Is this some kinda inside joke I'm not getting? Some reference I'm missin'?"
Ayla turned, leaning her back across Ethan's lap and looking into his eyes. "I've got luck by my side. That's how I met you," she smiled, leaning up to kiss him.
He broke away briefly, wiping his mouth with his sleeve, "What are you talking about?"
"Ethan! You're killing me!" Ayla groaned, rolling out of his lap, and getting to her feet. "This is really what you wanna talk about right now?"
"Kinda, yeah," Ethan said, reaching over to the nightstand and finding a half-full jar.
Ayla gave him an annoyed glare. She gave him a swift kick to the ankle.
"Ow! You almost made me spill it," He complained.
She couldn't stay annoyed, and she began to smile, "Yeah, you're gonna want a lot of that. Cause what I'm about to tell you will blow your mind."