Chapter 3 - Gunning For Hell

'Run, away?' He thought. Running away was never a thought that had crossed his mind. In a world whose sole point was to suffer, there was not a thing to run away towards, at least in Ronnie's conscious mind. He felt tethered to where he stayed instead because of the relationships he had formed, but Ronnie himself knew these relationships were premature. They never really knew him. A decade spent in silent agony choked his ability to form a true connection, it was impossible for him to form a deep connection when he refused to reach beneath the surface, and express genuine emotion from within. However, in his hands, he now held a gem, cut within three days. To this man who would describe the bonds he had made over the course of a decade as a yoke, in comparison, the idea of a lifetime with Rosa could only be summed up as one thing, bliss. 'Together?' He thought, holding her hands tighter. His eyes lit up, before he suddenly dropped his head, looking off slightly to the side. He was conflicted again. 'Two days ago I ignored all the signs and believed she was worthless,' he thought, 'could I be ignoring something crucial now too?' The silence on the part of the golden baby was blatant, and weighed on his heart. Never had he believed he would see the day he wished for its point of view. Rosa, upon seeing how distraught the question made him, was quite taken aback herself. However, she understood the gravity of the question she had posed him,

"Hey, look up," she said, wiping the tear off her cheek with her sleeve, Ronnie looked up to look at her, "no pressure, just think about it." She grabbed his hand again.

Even though Ronnie could tell, beyond her eyes she hid something, something that even at this point she was not willing to reveal, he knew what they had was real. There was a certain warmth they shared when they would connect, and in those moments, when he would look into her eyes, it would appear like she had lost sight of everything else.

"We have a whole day free now," Ronnie said, breaking the silence, lightening up the atmosphere, "unless you wanna go back and study?" Rosa glowed.

"You're the bookworm." She cheekily replied. They spent the entire day, playing hooky, their phones on airplane mode. They honestly could not care less what anybody else was up to in this meaningless, pointless, tragic world of theirs', from which, they only wished to shape out a hedonistic paradise, for the both of them.

Their day of fun came to an end. Ronnie walked her home. It was half past six at this point, the sun was going down, dusk was setting in.

"We should probably stop here," Rosa said, stopping in her tracks, "they're probably waiting for me at the door."

"You don't want me to meet the parents?" he rhetorically asked, pulling her into him, "I could tell them about how I dragged you to skip school with me."

"Maybe we offer them some brownies first." She replied. They kissed each other goodbye.

"I'll never get tired of those." He said as her hand slipped out of his as she walked off.

"You probably won't have the chance to," she replied, "if they kill me." Ronnie smiled, watching his heart walk off. He watched her sigh, before opening the door, and he chuckled. He knew the exact feeling. He was glad he was not alone.

As Ronnie walked home through the night, he watched as vehicles sped by on the road beside him. As he watched them drive by, racing in their pursuit of value, he wondered why it would be so insane, for him, to wish the same for himself. 'How long?' He thought, getting emotional, looking up at the stars. 'How long did I cry? How long did I look up and beg to wake up from this nightmare? A decade, wasted, asking why I would be given life just to have my neck stepped on as that same life was slowly, painfully, sucked out. You let me live, each aching day, watching my core crumple from the water loss, drying out. It was long enough, long enough for me to realize this was the norm, and long enough for me to realize you, who I cried out to, must have deeply enjoyed this, long enough for me to learn to rehydrate with the blood from my own leaking heart. Indeed, it was that unspoken pain, the fuel to keep pushing through my restricted breathing. It should be crystal clear to you why so many of us consider living a fight.' He looked back down at the pavement. 'What was the point? What was the point in hosting the last bit of hope in my chest, if not to keep on dreaming? This world has laid itself bare. A landscape like a festering wound, gangrenous. Will I have stretched out my hand, to grasp at an experience where I sit and rot, in a reeking dungeon, surrounded by dead decaying dreams, or will I wrestle to keep this dream alive, to keep it from adding to the body count?' He slowly looked back up at the sky, his blood was boiling. 'Life, your core is ugly, repulsive, a serious eye sore. If you think you can dangle this diamond before my suffocating eyes just for your sick, twisted, game, be ready to play. Yes, and be ready to rip my heart into a million pieces in its defence. I will die a bloody death for this.' Ronnie was listening to his wounded heart, and with that strong conviction, a newfound, established, pep in his step, the question switched from whether he would do it, to how.

He marched home, he now felt truly immune to what awaited him at home, his heart was too occupied to care, however, upon walking up to the house, he saw a police vehicle parked in the driveway. 'They panicked!' He thought. He frantically looked around to see whether anyone around had seen him, before taking off running as far away as his legs could carry him. He would not risk any chance he had of escaping with Rosa that night. He ran all around Fort Worth, looking for a place he could sit and hide out. He ran into a mall, but he speculated that it probably was not the best idea to hide out where so many eyes lurked. He used this opportunity to use the mall WiFi to look up any open hike trails, where he found Airfield Falls, and where he hid amid the forest cover until the dead of the night. There, he plotted.

3AM. He snuck out of the park, homebound. He kept watch to see whether anyone had seen him, or at least recognised him. 'It has to go down today.' He asserted. The coast was clear at the house. The lights were off. 'They must have left it in the authorities' hands.' Ronnie thought. He glanced at his reflection, stretched over the golden doorknob, this was going to be the last time. In his eyes he saw a red glow. 'That's not enough to stop me now.' He thought to himself, challenging life to throw its worst at him. He was ready, as he carefully inserted his spare key, and unlocked the door.

He snuck into his parents' room, they were asleep. Reí had clutched Carla, similarly to how Ronnie had the serpentine lady in his dream, as though he was reassuring her that everything would be alright. That still was not enough to dissuade Ronnie, as he sneakily took Reí's car keys. He himself was in the pursuit of something similar after all. He snuck into his room and grabbed some covers and pillows, his laptop and chargers, that was all he needed, trying to get out of there as fast as possible. He was on his way out, about to count quite the swift victory, however, just as he reached to exit the door, he heard a sweet, little, voice.

"Junior?" It was Alexia. 'Had she stayed up, worried?' The thought alone, about how much stress he must have put her through, weighed heavy on him. He should have known, life was not going to let him win that easily. He turned around to face her. In her night gown, her doll in her hand, the light in her eyes as she looked at her hero, cut at his heart like a heavenly blade, because he knew, he was going to have to betray those very eyes. He really should have known, life was not going to let him win that easily.

She inhaled with excitement as though she was going to scream out of joy.

"No, no, no, wait, wait," Ronnie replied, crouching down to her level, placing the covers and pillows on the floor, whispering, holding her shoulders to try calm her down, "we can't make noise right now, it's too late, everyone's asleep."

"Oh...okay," she whispered, still with a wide smile, "can I still get a piggyback ride?" Ronnie looked at the excitement in her eyes and was heartbroken. He wanted to give her a final one, to remember him by, but he knew giving into those emotions would only make it worse. He caressed her face, cupping it in his palms.

"I can't right now," he replied, "I'm in a bit of a hurry."

"Oh," she replied, looking down, disappointed, "okay." Ronnie could not bring himself to leave her like this. He dug into his pocket, pulling out the eyepatch.

"Here," he whispered, putting it over her left eye, gulping as the pain was now gripping on his throat, "give it to me when I come back, then I'll give you all the piggyback rides you want."

"Really?" She asked, looking up at his eyes. Seeing her right eye light up wet his eyes, her cute face truly was life's sharpest weapon.

"I promise," he replied, sniffling, still cupping her face, "will you wait for me?" The excited nod she gave, her cheeks glowing red, the scene was too reminiscent of the day he lost Johnny, as he remembered the promise he made, to never, let any of them, become victims of this reality. The heartache was strong, as he kissed her forehead as deeply as he could, and immediately turned around to pick up the covers so she would not see the tear rolling down his left cheek. As he got up and grabbed the door handle to leave,

"Bye Junior." He heard her cute, little, voice, whisper once more. Life had decided to twist the blade, lodged in his heart, once more. Ronnie hoped she really did not understand the gravity of those two words she had just said, as he looked at her over his right shoulder and winked, a wink that let out one last tear drop. As he shut the door behind him, he knew the fate he had sealed for her with that lie, a weight his heart would have to bear, forever. In his mind, those innocent eyes, in them a light as brilliant as the sun, a light he knew he snuffed out from his little sisters eyes. In his mind, those eyes were etched. This, was the price he had to pay for paradise. On that note, off to paradise he drove.

He got to Rosa's house and parked just beside the road. He took his phone off of airplane mode only to be bombarded with notifications from his phone and message apps. The most recent were from Rosa. Eleven missed calls, the most recent being twenty-seven minutes ago. He checked the messages she had sent. She was panicking, she had no idea where he could have been. He had not planned to put her through this, but this only gave him strength to keep pursuing their paradise. This was proof, that what they had was real.

'I'm outside' Ronnie texted her. She immediately read the message. She left it on read for a minute, before replying,

'Omw'.

He took this moment to breathe. He took deeper breaths, recalling the pain other victims of reality had gone through, giving himself strength through their stories, the strength to bare the pain in his heart from betraying Alexia. 'This isn't pain,' he tried to convince himself, 'this isn't as much of a hell as life is trying to make it out to be. I've seen hell. I've been there, and I've heard of the deeper layers, and even in those deeper layers, they kept moving. Humans, no different from myself, they kept moving. Letting this debilitate me is an admission. Of course, what else would it be? Isn't it an admission that I'm too weak to be human? That reality, for which I am built, is too much for me to bare? How then, can I wrestle, with the very force that I know has yet to unleash its worst upon me? Wouldn't that be an admission of defeat?' The idea of losing to life once more, that was the fuel he used to harden his core, and deepen his breaths. 'Pain may persist, but I choose when to give in, and as I said, I will die a bloody death for this dream.' With this new mentality, he had the strength to look into Alexia's eyes and understand, he did what had to be done. He had hardened his skin, and dulled the blade.

Having come to terms with this, he looked around the car, idle. He saw his bag in the passenger seat right beside him, in it the red book, and figured he would jot down all the dreams he had not yet noted down. He sat back, recalling and writing down the roller coaster he had been on in the dream world with his three day old raison d'etre, however, just as he finished noting down the theatrical sexual experience they shared, he heard a panicked knock on the backseat window.

It was Rosa. He quickly threw the book onto the passenger seat and unlocked the door. She threw her bags in and dived into the back seat, landing onto the covers and pillows.

"Go, go, go, go!" She urged him, panting, banging the head rest of his seat.

"Shit, shit, shit, okay!" He responded, matching her energy. He looked at the upstairs room window and saw a white woman opening the window. Panic ensued. He began to regret ever taking the keys out of the ignition as his shaky hands struggled to get it back in.

"Hurry! We need to get going! Now!" She was not helping. He looked back up at the woman and she appeared to be dialing something on her phone.

"Chill! I'm fu-" Ronnie was interrupted by the key finally slipping in. He hurriedly started the car and stepped on it, knocking over their trashcan in the anxiety fueled frenzy. They drove off.

"What the...what the fuck was that?" Ronnie's mind was still lost in the pandemonium they had left behind. She leaned over and around the chair, kissing Ronnie's cheek as deeply as she possibly could. Ronnie's heart and mind were eased, as he remembered what it was he had just escaped with, and what he was running towards.

She sat back, sighed, and melted into the back seat.

"I thought I lost you," she said, still catching her breath, "forever." This warmed Ronnie's heart, life had truly presented him a gem.

"They freaked out and called the cops to find me, I had to hide," he replied, "did they pull up?"

"Yes! My mom..." She paused for a second. "She thought I really fucked up this time." They both went silent for a moment. Ronnie wanted to address the white elephant in the room, but he was all too familiar with the sensation of having left loved ones behind. He did not want to put Rosa through thinking about them at this time.

"You know this means we're gonna have to skip state, right?" He said, trying to break the silence. She inhaled, wedged herself between the two seats, and exhaled.

"I don't care," she said, turning her head to face him, looking at his lips, "we're together." He smiled, this was that moment that made it all worth it. He glanced over at her.

"A'ight so where we going?" He asked.

"How about," in the corner of his eye he could see a cheeky smile form on her face, he knew she was up to no good with her response, "Gi-or-gi-uh?" Ronnie tried to hold back his smile, he wanted to squeeze this lovely character beside him, but his hands were occupied.

"You really liked my story, huh?" He asked, feeling a bit flattered.

"I loved it." She replied, leaning back into her seat.

Suddenly, she gasped. She quickly lifted the covers to look under.

"Oh shit!" She exclaimed.

"What's up?" He asked, slightly turning his head, trying to keep his eyes on the road.

"Oh my gosh I'm so sorry, what the fuck!" She replied.

"What happened?" He asked, looking at her through the rearview mirror. She slowly passed the broken laptop through the space between the two front seats, placing it on the passenger seat.

"I didn't see it," she said, a heartfelt response, "I must've landed on it hopping in."

"It really ain't that big a deal," Ronnie reassured her, "I was gonna pawn it or some shit anyway."

"Okay but still," she urged, "won't it affect the price?"

"Yeah but," he replied, "it's a Macbook, it'll still be worth quite a bit. It's a'ight."

"You're so kind," she replied through her yawn, wrapping her arms around the driver's seat to hug him, "I'll get some sleep. I love you, goodnight." This past decade, after spending years berating those who indulged in these shallow emotions, he had not grown accustomed to genuinely telling someone he loved them. He was astonished, speechless, by the fact that he finally had the chance to say it, and know he meant it.

"I-" His response was interrupted by the sweet tune she sang, already deep in her sleep. He slowed down, stopping by the side of the road. He turned back to face her. 'She must have been exhausted from all that stress.' He thought to himself. Pushing a strand of her hair behind her ear,

"I love you too." He said under his voice.

He continued the journey, Rosa's breaths like music to his ears, up until he reached the border to Louisiana. There he stopped. As the new day dawned, he leaned his chair back such that it was right above Rosa's head, the point where her melody could comfortably guide him into the dream world.

As he awoke in the dream world, he was already certain, tonight's dream would be a fight. Dusk was setting in, as the red sun's reach slowly diminished. He woke up by the river, where he and the serpentine lady lay, but alone. He could feel something lodged in his hair. He dug into it and pulled out one of her claws. 'What's this supposed to be? A memento?' He thought. As he scrutinised the claw, his attention was drawn away from it by a small splashing sound. He looked across the river to see a cute, little, lamb, struggling to get out of the water. He immediately jumped in and swam across. He reached in time and lifted it up out of the water, placing it on the riverbank. It ran away from him a few feet before turning back to look at him. He could now fully see it. it was slightly, but noticeably, smaller than a regular lamb. They looked into each others eyes, which startled the lamb enough to run and hide behind a bush, peeking over at him. This warmed Ronnie's heart, as he just smiled at it and swam back across. He reached the other riverbank and sat up on it, looking across the river to see what the little lamb was up to.

"What the..." He muttered under his breath. He was shocked to see the little lamb at the edge of the riverbank, looking down at the water, ready to leap into it once again. He looked around, nothing else was in sight, however, the lamb clearly was in a panicked rush to try get across the river, and the night was creeping in. He figured its safe haven must have been somewhere across the river. He swam back across, startling it, driving it back into hiding behind the bush. He got to the other side and turned his back towards it to build its trust.

"Come on," he encouraged it, looking over his right shoulder, snapping his fingers, "I can carry you." The little lamb was reluctant at first, but the looming threat of the darkness was enough of a push. It slowly built up the courage to approach him.

"Just like that," he continued to encourage it, "easy, easy." He added as he slowly lifted it onto his back, placing its front hooves over his shoulders for support.

"You're ready?" He asked, looking over his shoulder. It hid its head behind his neck, it was still reasonably shy. He swam across, trying his best to keep its body above the water, finally reaching the other riverbank, and gently setting it down. It quickly ran off and jumped into the forest, as Ronnie watched it make its way to safety. He was just glad he was able to help. With no shirt, and now fully drenched, he decided to lay back and let the water dry off. 'I wonder where it ran off to.' He thought, as he shut his eyes. A minute into shutting his eyes, he felt a soft, woolly, rub on his cheek. He opened his eyes, to see the little lamb rubbing its head against his. This was its form of saying thank you. It then looked up at his eyes, which were now leaking the warmth from his heart, and brushed against his cheek one last time before running off into the forest again. Ronnie was filled with joy, at this reward that was more than enough for his simple human act of kindness.

As he lay there, still drenched, he knew he this could not have been all there was to this dream. 'Helping a lamb cross a river? Is that really it?' He decided to shut his eyes, 'Maybe I'll wake up and get to driving again.' He thought, however, just as he had thought, the dream world was not finished with him just yet, because just as he formulated that thought, as though he had jinxed it, a winter breeze set in.

He had never experienced cold this intense in the dream world. Up until then he had believed the dream world never experienced winter, but the thickness of the fog in his breaths was enough to convince him otherwise. He tried to ignite his flames, but the cold was so piercing he could not concentrate well enough to set them ablaze. He was freezing, the droplets on his body frosting up, an unbearable pain in a world where he could not even die. Something had to be done.

He ventured into the forest. The cold breeze was unfazed by the thick forest cover, breaking through and numbing his extremities, and even as they went numb the cold sensation remained, as though it was freezing his bones as well. This really was the winter of a nightmare. He looked around, he needed some form of cover to save him from this hell, but what caught his eye, let him understand what more this dream had to offer. He sighed. Straight ahead stood a ram, almost drowning in its fur, comfortable, unoccupied, alone, now in the spotlight, of that red full moon. To his right and left, vines hanging from the trees above, in his pocket, the serpentine lady's claw, in his mind, the fresh, new, memory, of the little lamb in distress.

He knew what he was about to do, he could already feel the guilt creeping in. 'There's no way for me to tell the two are related.' He tried to argue his case to himself, but deep down he knew, that this, was the dreamworld, a symbolic world.

This world may truly have been symbolic, but the pain he felt from the cold was undeniably real. He cut the vines and pounced onto the ram, seething with guilt. Though he was the one binding the rams legs with the vines, he felt he was the one whose hands were truly tied. He quickly began to shear off as much wool as he could, hoping he could gather enough before he had to come face to face with those innocent eyes once again, but it was only a matter of time, this was the little lamb's queue. He heard the shuffling of leaves on his right, and up popped that cute, little, head.

He did not even need to turn his head to understand the symbolism of this moment. This sensation of being the bad guy was now as familiar to him as the back of his right hand, which he watched, gripping the claw, as he stopped shearing, then proceeded to defeatedly looked over into its eyes. Its eyes were still gleaming, reflecting the light from the hope in its heart at this newly established bond, a light that cast a shadow of such great umbra, that Ronnie wished he could hole himself in it, from all the shame it illuminated. The dream world took it a step further. As it ran towards a trusted friend, and the sight of him practically consuming its father revealed itself, he watched as that light slowly died down, as it lifelessly sat back, looking off to the side, the hope dead inside. He tried to reach out and pet it, hoping he could rekindle that light, reaching out to a younger version of himself, but it did not budge. It did not even respond to his presence, as though that's how dead its hope was. He began to get flashes of Alexia, with his eyepatch still on, having a similar reaction to his return, expressing to him how grave his actions truly were. He had not only let her become victim to this reality by betraying her, he had become its agent.

He was freezing though, aching to his bones for an escape. He continued to shear.

As he walked off, wool in his arms, memories flashed in his mind of the first piggyback ride he ever gave Alexia, after he had gained enough strength to reach out to her. He could still remember how tiny and shy she was at age three, and it did not help that the exact dialogue he shared with the lamb, was the exact manner in which he built her trust. As the fact that the family he had grown to love over the past decade could only be represented as a pair of sheep to his subconscious mind left a striking pain in his chest, he looked up at that bloody red moon, teary eyed, with growing resentment for life. He emerged out of the forest. Behind him, he could see the lamb biting on the vines, trying to free its father. In front of him, sat at the riverbank facing the river, balled up, shivering, was the serpentine lady, seemingly waiting for him. 'She'll get stronger without me.' He thought. As the wind whistled through his ears, like a flute carrying the sad notes from the tune playing in his heart, he realised this was simply the dilemma life had set out for him, and hardened his heart. 'This is a fight, it can't be easy, I must stay strong.' With that thought, his eyes glowed a bloodier red, boiling off the tears in his eyes, stoking the flame as he let out a breath of thick fog. Just as the red in his eyes deepened in hue, so did the moon.

"What the...wow." Rosa said, rubbing her forehead, waking Ronnie up.

"What's happening?" Ronnie woke up in a panic.

"Don't act dumb, you set me up." She replied. Ronnie looked at her, his brain still waking up, baffled.

"I banged my head!" She exclaimed. Ronnie's half awake brain was still trying to process how that was his fault.

"You know what," she said in a lower tone, a menacing grin forming on her face, "I'll just get my revenge. Sleep with one eye open." The conviction in her eyes as she made that statement shook his mind awake, jogging his memory, as he realized how, in an attempt to avoid experiencing her sleeping melody from the nosebleeds, he might have set her up for a nosebleed.

"Ohh," he replied, "my bad."

"Ain't no 'my bad'," she replied mockingly, "be ready." After a night of pure unease, Ronnie was glad his fellow adventurer, through this journey into the unknown, always found a way to liven up his mood.

They drove on to Shreveport, where they stopped at a mall at roughly noon, having a little meal at the food court. The cost of the food halfed the total amount of money they had at hand, and a patent issue with this plan to seek paradise emerged. They needed money.

"What do we do?" Rosa asked.

"I've got a plan," Ronnie replied, "but we've gotta pawn the Macbook off first."

"You know how to pawn?" She asked, intrigued by the idea.

"Nah," he replied, "do you?"

"Maybe..." She replied, a cheeky grin forming on her face. Ronnie could tell she was messing around. He sighed and shook his head, pulling out his phone to do some research.

"I wonder how much I could get away with making you believe about me." She added. Ronnie looked up at her and scoffed, shaking his head disapprovingly. He oddly enjoyed the fact that she was twisted, just like him. 'I bet you do.' He thought to himself, before looking back down at his phone.

"I just need an ID I guess" He said, still searching for details.

"How much could that get us?" She asked.

"I don't know," he replied, "like six...seven hundred."

"Would that be enough, like to get us to Georgia?" She asked. "We gotta pay for gas, food, motels. I don't know, what else we gotta pay for?" She watched his mood dim on his face. She wondered whether this line of questioning stressed him out that bad. Regardless, it broke her to see him like this.

"Is everything okay?" She asked, reaching across the table for his hand. He looked up at her, rubbing the hand in his palm now with his thumb, tears of joy forming in his eyes. Her gesture gave him strength. He looked down.

"I..." He paused. He recalled the image of the serpentine lady, freezing, waiting for him, and remembered that he needed to be strong, not only for his sake now, but for the both of them. He sniffled, then looked up at the cieling, letting out an acidic chuckle.

"I had to lie to her," he begun, "I looked Alexia in the eye, and lied to her. It's crazy to me how, I've broken her heart, somewhere in the future from now, for a plan that's already crumbling, today. What's laughable is, I challenged life to throw its worst at me. Life really be swingin' 'em bitches." Rosa let out an acidic chuckle too, looking down. Ronnie looked at her face, and kissed her hand.

"Don't get it twisted though," he continued, as she looked back into his eyes, "I'm not looking back. Even in my dreams, trying their best to torture me, I'd still make that decision, countless times over." Rosa felt uplifted by these words. There was still a hint of pain she could sense carried in his eyes.

"I hear you," she replied, trying to console him, "maybe you just need time."

They drove to a pawn shop they found online, pawning off the laptop for seven hundred and fifty dollars, all while the weight of Ronnie's words weighed on their mood. It was getting dark outside. They left the pawn shop. Rosa rushed towards the rear door.

"You don't wanna sit up front?" Ronnie asked, perplexed.

"Nah," she replied, shrugging, "I think I'll take a lil' nap.' Ronnie felt a little guilty for laying the weight he carried mentally onto her. He believed it was probably best for her to sleep on it, he was grateful she still wished to bare it along with him. He smirked at her. 'I understand.' He thought, his eyes communicating this, with a dash of pain, as he unlocked the car. Continuing the journey on the highway, Ronnie heard the rear window roll down. Flashing colours in his side view mirror caught his attention, on closer inspection, it was Rosa dumping her packed clothes out the window, onto the road.

"What the," Ronnie was looking back, trying to keep his eyes on the road, absolutely baffled, "the fuck you doin'?"

"We ran away," she replied, still picking clothes and dropping them out onto the road, "we ran away from all the structure behind us 'cause it was meaningless. We picked Georgia on a whim. We can go anywhere, do anything." She ran out of clothes to dump, sat back, and sighed in relief.

"We're indulging," she continued, "we're free. Fuck the past, fuck the future, fuck them clothes! We're living for now!" Ronnie's eyes were opened by those words, literally and spiritually. As they rebounded around his head, he began to get riled up.

"Fuck!" He exclaimed enthusiastically, banging the steering wheel, stepping on the gas harder. "You're fucking insane!" He added, his heart filled with excited joy as he smiled at her. She kissed him, deeply, both shutting their eyes, his foot still on the accelerator, pressing down harder. As they shared this kiss, speeding up on the highway with their hearts pumping from the adrenaline, they escaped into each others lips, letting go of all the worries they had in this world. They could feel each other's hearts calm down in synchrony, as though they were one, deaf to the rest of the universe. This was a seal.

As soon as their lips lost contact, reality seeped in, sucked in with their gasps. They both looked at the road, realising how reckless they had been.

"We're both are insane." Rosa replied, placing her head on the driver seat shoulder.

Ronnie felt a difference inside. It was as though racing at high speed, so mindlessly, had loosened a mental barrier he had. As though overcoming the anxiety, in this adrenaline fueled state, was a release. He was hooked.

"Shit," Rosa said, "the gas is running out." Ronnie, still rapturous from the experience, spoke his desires.

"What if," he began, "what if we don't buy any food."

"What? How do we...survive?" Rosa asked.

"We steal it," he replied, turning his eyes to look at her through the rearview mirror, "nothing matters, right?" Her jaw dropped, and a smile began to form on her face. The two began to fantasise, fantasies of pure indulgence, now that there were no limits. Wherever they were, together, was the only criteria, for home. An internal voice they had tried to call out, a voice they had dumped out on the road along with Rosa's clothes, along with any aspirations of form they had for the future. The voice tried to warn them. They were now, actively, gunning for hell.

"What's the plan?" She asked.

"I've got more than enough for gas money," he replied, "it's simple, just grab some shit while I distract him."

"And we 'bout to do this," Rosa asked, "like right now?"

"Yeah," Ronnie replied, "we could switch. I steal, you distract him. I just think whoever steals gets a headstart when we hop out."

"Nah I'm cool stealing," Rosa remarked, "this just a whole new energy from you, I like it." They really should have been warned; they were gunning for hell.

They pulled up to a gas station.

"Here, take my jacket," Ronnie said, turning in his seat to face the backseat, taking off his seat belt and jacket, "I'll figure out what items they got behind them as I pay, fill the tank up, then walk back in like I forgot to buy one of them. I'll leave the doors unlocked and the keys in the ignition. When I walk in to distract them, come in. I'll keep talking to them until you leave."

"We could even just run at that point," Rosa added, "the key's already in, right?"

"Exactly."

Ronnie stepped out of the car, revising his foolproof plan. He walked in to pay. At the counter was a slightly fat Hispanic man, roughly in his thirties, in a black tee with a navy blue and white chequered flannel shirt on top, sleeves folded up to his elbows. Ronnie thought he had hit the jackpot, having been fluent in Spanish. 'Shit!' He realized. He should have been well aware that this was naturally the case, as he remembered, life was not set up for him to breeze through, looking up at the array of male enhancement pills for sale behind the cashier. No amount of Spanish knowledge, none, could account for the curve ball life had just thrown at him.

He walked back to the car. His face expressed in detail the difficulty of the puzzle he had to solve as he filled the tank, a true conundrum. Rosa knocked on the rear window startling him. She motioned her hands as if to ask what the issue was. Ronnie, who was now struggling to keep from looking suspicious while simultaneously trying to piece up this plan, just shook his head and gave her the thumbs up, looking around to see whether anyone noticed this. Rosa palmed her forehead, finding it funny how his demeanor was a literal attention magnet. He walked in with the best plan he could come up with under pressure.

"Hey," he said to the cashier, "you speak Spanish?" Just as that statement left his mouth, he knew, this was going to be a rematch with the dragon.

"Yeah." The cashier dismissively replied.

"Aye," Ronnie continued to venture deeper into the dragon's lair, "me too."

"I don't care." The cashier bluntly replied. 'Yeah Ronnie,' he thought to himself, 'brace yourself.'

"I uh..." Ronnie continued, struggling with the execution, "I saw some stuff you were selling while I paid and um...I'm...interested."

"Okay?" The cashier was clearly confused.

"It's um..." Ronnie rubbed his brow ridge, sighing, aching, facing the ground, "it's for like...you know...down there." The widest smile began to grow on the cashier's face.

"¿Pa' la verga?" The cashier asked. Ronnie just let out a defeated sigh, looking at him, and slowly nodded.

"Shii," the cashier replied, clearly enjoying this, "that's all you had to say homie." He turned around, looking through the array of pills as though he was picking out fine wine. Ronnie heard the door behind him swing open, and turned around with the same defeated expression to look at Rosa who had just walked in. Upon seeing the comedically torturous fate Ronnie was condemned to face, the epiphany that drizzled onto her, encapsulating the explanation as to why he was acting so weirdly, was so immense, she struggled to keep her laugh held in, as she let out a stifled laugh.

"Go!" Ronnie whisper-shouted. This was not the time to joke about this.

"I got you bro," the cashier replied, turning around and leaning over the counter, "this the shit you want." It was too quick, Ronnie needed to buy more time.

"You got..." Ronnie shut his eyes, in pain, "you got some stronger shit?" The cashier leaned back up off the counter, still clearly enjoying the embarrassment drawn across Ronnie's face.

"You a young man," he replied, slightly chuckling, "you sure bro?" Ronnie slowly nodded in agony.

"Yeah." He replied.

"A'ight bro," the cashier replied, letting out a chuckle, turning back around, "you're the paying customer."

This was not going to work again, he needed to keep looking for distractions. As the pill connoisseur looked around, Ronnie spotted the airsoft pistols in the bottom right corner of the wall display. 'Really nigga?' He thought to himself, palming his face. He could have knocked himself out in that moment for putting himself through that hell.

"Here bro," he replied, turning back around and leaning over the counter again, "if this don't work, I'm sorry bro, ain't nothin' I can do for you."

"I'll..." Ronnie struggled, "I'll take it."

"All love bro," the cashier replied, sitting back up, still belittling him with a smile, "all love." Ronnie struggled to swallow his pride.

"Also," Ronnie added, "I see them guns you got. How much for the pistol."

"Ayo," the cashier asked, with a concerned look on his face, "the fuck?" Ronnie looked at his hand, clasping the strongest erectile dysfunction pills the establishment had to offer, and immediately realized where the misunderstanding may have come in.

"Nah wait, hol' up," Ronnie replied, backing up a bit, waving his hands as the pills in the box shook producing an awkward clatter, stifling his attempts to save face, "these ain't related, for real bro c'mon." The cashier looked at him suspiciously, slowly turning to pick out a pistol. Ronnie was suffering, and Rosa was still nowhere to be seen. The cashier turned around and dropped a box on the counter, looking Ronnie in the eye intently as he folded his arms. Ronnie looked at the box to see the most childish looking airsoft gun he had in the establishment. It had an orange barrel, with a camo colourway.

"Can I..." Ronnie looked down, letting out a defeated sigh, "can I get a fully black one?"

"Why?" The cashier asked, his hand over his mouth, as though he was studying Ronnie.

"I like the colour," Ronnie defeatedly looked up, begging for an end to his torment, "c'mon bro stop." The cashier slowly turned around to pick out the pistol, still keeping an eye on Ronnie.

Just as the cashier turned around, both Ronnie and the cashier jerked, alarmed by the sound of a breaking bottle. Ronnie looked behind him to see Rosa, shocked as well, swollen, in Ronnie's oversized jacket, right in the process of exiting, and a brown pool of whiskey and shattered glass around her feet. Ronnie slowly turned his head to look back at the cashier, whose eyes jumped from Ronnie to Rosa, back and forth, with his eyebrows furrowing, as though he was piecing something together. The cashier's hands slowly began to reach under the counter, his expression turning more fierce with each inch deeper under the counter he reached. Ronnie followed the trajectory of the cashier's hands with his eyes. Along with the disappointment he felt not asking about the variety of sweets on display that his eyes glossed over through the clear counter, came the revelation of what the cashier had been reaching for.

"Puta ma-"

"He got a bat! Run!" Ronnie interrupted the cashier, urging Rosa to leave as he quickly grabbed everything the cashier had placed on the counter, following her. Rosa ran and flung the rear door open hopping in, while Ronnie, in the heat of the moment followed suit. They both sat up in the backseat, looking at each other, their brains still trying to figure out what was wrong with what they were looking at, however, they realised as soon as they watched the cashier storm out of the store on a beeline towards the car. Ronnie struggled getting through the gap between the seats to get to the front due to his size. By the time he had squeezed through and released the hand brake, the cashier was already right in front of the car, setting up to damage the car for as much as he was due. As soon as he had wound up his home run swing, Ronnie quickly turned the keys in the ignition and stepped on it, running into the cashier. The cashier hopped and rolled up the car bonnet, up the windshield and off the car, as Bonnie and Clyde sped off with their loot.

The two sat in the speeding car, panting, trying to digest what had just happened. Two whole minutes were spent in complete silence, none uttering a peep. Suddenly, Ronnie heard an object plop onto the front passenger seat, letting out that familiar clatter, carrying with them the memories of the painful negotiations Ronnie had gone through.

"You forgot those," Rosa casually said, "when you hopped into the front." Ronnie lifted his head, biting his lips, trying not to laugh, as he looked at Rosa, biting her lips as well. The two burst into laughter.

"Fuck," Ronnie sighed, "that went so south."

"I know!" Rosa exclaimed. "What the fuck! That was some of the craziest shit I been through!"

"I wonder how Babe Ruth is." Ronnie said, chuckling.

"Bruh," Rosa replied, pointing out the skid mark he left on the windshield as he skidded off, dying of laughter, "we really shouldn't have done him like that."

"Nah he deserved it," Ronnie added, also dying of laughter, "nigga came to fight a car with a bat." The two continued to laugh about their adrenaline filled experience.

"We definitely gotta leave state now." Rosa said, letting out her last breath of laughter.

"What did you get?" Ronnie asked.

"A lot," she replied, unzipping the jacket, "like, a lot."

"Oh shit," Ronnie replied, turning his head back and forth, watching all the items spill out onto the floor, trying to keep his eyes on the road, "we're straight for like a week now, the fuck?"

"I know right?" She replied. "That's why the other whiskey bottle slipped out."

"Other?" Ronnie asked, looking at her through the rearview mirror.

"Yessir!" She replied, cheekily smiling, as she pulled out another whisky bottle from her sleeve. Ronnie's eyes lit up as he looked at her through the rearview mirror, he knew what was in store for them that night.

They drove to the Louisiana-Mississippi border, found a motel nearby, and indulged, as any lovers their age would.

Ronnie awoke in the dream world, unaware of how he even got there. It was the afternoon, and even though the red sun hugged his skin, the bloody hue reflecting off of his skin reminded him of his bloodied past, but he was okay, as in his clutches, lied the serpentine lady. He was hugging her from behind, sat by the river, both dipping their feet in. He lay his cheek on hers, this skin to skin contact was all he needed.

"Ronnie," she spoke up, "I'm aware of how ugly you find this light."

"You know me so well," he replied, "what gave it away?"

"I can sense heat," she replied, "the heat within you seems stiffled, choked, more so during the noon, when that sun is at its brightest. It eats away at you." Ronnie was saddened by how true her words were.

"It's depressing to look at," he replied, "you already know why."

"I do," she replied, turning her head to look him in the eyes, caressing his face, "but I can't stand seeing you like this, this can't be forever for the two of us." Ronnie looked her in her eyes, and even though she hissed, the genuine concern in her predatory eyes was undeniable.

"If I could," Ronnie replied, looking up, reaching his hand out to the sun "I would reach out, grab that sun, and douse it in these waters for you, if it was what you needed." He dropped his hand. "It's too far away though," he continued, "and I'm not strong enough to manipulate the sun so easily." She understood, and looked ahead, as they sat in silence for a minute.

"Let me take you," she said, "somewhere that the light can never scorch you again." Ronnie looked up. No matter how many memories he had made under that sun, he truly did detest the sight of it. Wrapped in his arms was already all he needed, all he fought on for.

"I'll go with you," he replied, turning to look at her face, "with you." The warmth carried through those serpentine eyes as she smiled at that remark felt genuine. Ronnie was sold. She stood up, leading him by the hand, into the forest. He looked back at the river. 'I guess,' he thought, memories of all the joy, of all the pain, playing through his mind, 'this is goodbye.' With that bid of farewell, he looked forward, deep into the formless forest, holding his future in his hands, shaded by the overbearing canopy.

The two walked deep into the forest, stopping by a large dark pit, roughly twenty feet in diameter.

"This is it," she said, "I have heard that a world beyond this one exists deep in this pit. A world completely detached from the radiance that once nourished us, but now only serves to highlight the lack of beauty around us." Ronnie looked at her. Her face displayed a perfect balance of rage, as well as fear. Ronnie crouched, dipping his arm into the darkness. It felt like a warm liquid, the perfect temperature for a relaxing bath. It felt accepting, and free. Ronnie pulled his arm out to see the tiny ignitable hairs, standing on end, slowly recoil back into his skin, upon making contact with the colder outer world. Ronnie resonated with her message.

He stood up.

"How do we go in?" He asked. "Won't we run out of air, or just end up floating back to the surface?"

"I've heard it said," she replied, "that the air of the outer world carries the radiance of the sun. The reason why we float is because we hold attachments to this outer world, which we must strip ourselves of." She turned her back towards the pit and began to take off her clothes, preparing for the dive. Ronnie followed suit. Their minds were made.

She held his hand.

"Empty your lungs," she said, looking over at him nervously, "we'll sink together." Ronnie held her hand tighter, pushing the air out of his lungs with the full force of his conviction, as they both fell backward, naked, into the pit.

The darkness was of such a dark pitch that it was suffocating. Ronnie tried to gasp for air but choked, as his heart rate increased. He was dying out, slowly. His heart began to glow red, beating rapidly as though it was about to explode, however, something peculiar caught his attention. A purple glowing heart, beating just as rapidly, a few feet from his. It was hers, suffocating, panicking as well. He felt her tiny hand reach out and cup his, lightly caressing it, as though even in her dying moment of distress, his heart was a higher priority. He was torn. 'I made a vow,' he thought, 'to keep her safe, even if it meant I had to glow a bloodier, brighter, red, than that scorching sun. Yet here I sink, powerless, when she needs me the most. How can I ever forgive myself?' With this thought, he reached out, cupping her heart as well, trying to pass his life force into hers, hoping to give her all his strength to live on without him. However, as his heart begin to lose its glow to hers, he felt the same emotions reciprocated from her, as the glow rebrightened. The love he felt here was like no other he had felt before. As they both sank into nothingness, their dying wish was to keep each other alive.

They slowly began to ignite, simultaneously, with a shared orange flame, as their heart rates began to drop. They could breathe again. He looked at her. Her eyes were no longer serpentine, her claws had disappeared as well as her fangs. For that instance, all he saw before him was simply Rosa, naked, comfortable with her heart in his hand. In this moment of the truest form of beauty he had ever experienced, they both collapsed, with a kiss.

Ronnie woke up. The morning light shining through the windows was scorching to Ronnie's eyes, causing a ringing sensation in his head. He looked away from the light, trying to shield his eyes. He could see the bedside table. On it, the now quarter way filled bottle of whiskey and one of the boxes of pills, opened, with three tablets missing. Ronnie smirked, recalling the rodeo they had last night. He turned to face Rosa, who was sat up, facing the window.

"Damn," he weakly uttered, "you like, immune to hangovers?"

"I'm good," she replied, slamming her purple leather bound book shut, and stuffing it into her bag, "we should get going though." She picked up her bag and stormed out the door.

Ronnie was completely confused. 'Was it something I said?' He thought to himself. Ronnie groggily got out of bed, putting on his shirt and stuffing his feet into his shoes. He looked around to check whether he had forgotten anything. He picked up his bag and dragged the whiskey bottle off of the table. He swung open the door. The 9AM summer sun seared his eyes as he dragged his feet to the car, zombified. Ronnie got into the car, dropped his bag behind him, and leaned back, letting out a deep sigh. He peeped through his left eye to see the car keys still in the ignition. He chuckled.

"Shit," he said, turning his head to face the right, his eyes still drowsy, "our dumb asses left car keys in th-" He stopped. There was no one in the passenger seat beside him. He looked at the backseat to see Rosa laying down, curled up in the covers with her back facing towards him. Ronnie smirked. 'I guess she isn't immune to hangovers.' He thought. He picked up a pack of chips from the back, opened them, and drove off.

He could not shake the thought of how she had acted at the motel earlier that morning. 'She's hungover,' part of him thought, the other thought otherwise, 'that reaction seemed triggered though.' This conflict weighed on his mind as he struggled with it the entire three hour long journey to Demopolis, where he stopped to refuel. He sat back. Though still groggy, he figured that maybe pulling another heist could help lift her spirits, and get him some form of clarity.

"Rosa." He called out to no response. He turned around in his seat to her.

"Rosa." He called out again, slightly louder, still to no response. He reached out and slightly shook her.

"Rosa!" He called out again. She sat up quickly, wiping her cheek for drool, pulling out one earphone blaring loud music, confused, like she had just woken up.

"What happened?" She asked, looking around.

"Oh," Ronnie finally understood what was up, and felt horrible for waking her up, "my bad." He noticed how absurd it seemed to wake her up at noon, for a heist, both in a hangover-like state.

"It's cool," he said reaching out, caressing her face, wiping the wetness from a tear off of her right temple with his thumb, "get some more sleep. I'm getting gas, you need anything?" She smiled weakly, looking down and nodding no.

"Okay," he replied, turning back around, undoing his seat belt, "I'll be back soon."

As Ronnie walked in to pay for the gas, he thought of other ways to resolve the issue. As it stood, he had made no progress. 'If its just the hangover,' he thought, 'I know something that might help take it off her mind.' Ronnie walked into the store. He noticed the cashier was a young man, slender, shaggy, a red head, in a bowl cut, and a loose, plain, sage green tee. He could tell they were similar in age. As Ronnie paid for the gas, he thought maybe the cashier could help.

"Ayo bro," Ronnie leaned in, looking around to check if the coast was clear, "my girl and I aren't from around here. You know where I could get some drugs?" The cashier looked around, like he was looking for the trap. Ronnie looked around with him.

"You know that's exactly what a cop would say right?" The cashier replied, leaning in, half whispering. Ronnie tilted his head, giving him a look that exactly described his 'innocence', the scent of alcohol on him was just the finishing touch.

"Okay look," the cashier continued, glancing around one more time to make sure no one was around, "I don't know. You probably have a better chance finding them at a community college. That's all I'm gonna say."

"You're right," Ronnie replied, wondering why he had not thought of that first, "thanks bro." Ronnie dapped him up. The cashier slid a lighter towards him on the counter.

"It's free," the cashier said, "stay safe though."

"Haha," Ronnie exaggerated his laugh, "bet."

Ronnie walked back to the car, excited to tell Rosa about the friend he had made. He got in and turned around to look at her, but she was still curled up, her back facing him. He rubbed her shoulder, letting the sleeping beauty lie.

He drove to Montgomery, keeping his eyes peeled for a community college. He came across one, where he saw a couple sat outside at a shaded seating area near a field. They were alone, the girl sat on the table, the man seated on the bench, playfully enjoying each others company.

Ronnie walked up to them. The closer he drew towards them the stronger the aura of marijuana emanated off of them. 'Finally.' He thought.

"Uh...how y'all doin'?" He asked, stopping their playful game as they both turned to face him. It was a shorter black bearded man with dreads in a black yankee hat, white tee and baggy blue jeans, and an even shorter Samoan lady who wore an oversized hoodie, short tight jeans shorts and slippers. Both wore black sunglasses, both silently waiting for him to state his purpose.

"Y'all know where I can get some weed." Ronnie bluntly asked. They both looked at each other, and then burst out laughing.

"Aye," the man said, trying to stop himself from laughing, "nigga you got a wire or some shit? I ain't never seen yo' big bitchass on campus."

"The fuck you calling a bitch?" Ronnie replied, heating up.

"A'ight easy big dawg," the man replied, lifting his hands, as the laughing died down, "I got you. Follow me." They both stood up.

"Nigga walkin' up like he from the Jabari clan or sumn'," the man murmered to the woman as she giggled, "Wakanda forever lookin' ahh." Ronnie paid no mind to what they had to say, as long as he got his stash.

Ronnie was still trying to process what went down as he caressed her cheek. 'She was comfortable,' he thought, remembering the smile she gave, but upon remembering the way she looked down immediately afterwards, he was not so sure, 'was she disappointed?' The couple leading him would occasionally look over their shoulders at Ronnie, and though it was to continue poking fun, their murmurs and giggles died down the more they noticed the disturbed look on Ronnie's face, looking down, the entire way to the dorm room to which they escorted him.

Ronnie followed them into the room, and felt a tickle in his throat. Ronnie looked around, his jaw slowly dropping. His eyes glossed over the messy set up of clothes and towels tossed around the room, barely making out the names of the artists on the album covers displayed across the wall, that now looked like the 'Billboards hot 100' list, through the stale herbal fog in the room, before they stopped to face the two minions gleefully smiling at him, nodding, proud of their coal mine. This tickled Ronnie, as he chuckled and smirked, he had now found two more interesting characters.

"A'ight nigga you can sit down," the man said, motioning Ronnie towards the bed, he himself sitting at his desk, pulling out rolling paper and some marijuana from a blue travel pouch set on the table, "you tryn'a roll one?" Ronnie looked at them both, as the girl sat on the desk getting comfortable. He figured he would not be wasting Rosa's time if she was asleep,

"Yeah," he replied, stressed out about the situation, "why not?"

Ronnie watched as the man rolled up the cannabis cigarette.

"Why yo' eye fucked up?" The man asked still looking down, working on the cigarette.

"It's a long story." Ronnie sighed, wondering how he could catch them up on everything within this short session they had.

"We got time." The girl replied, sitting up, ready for a story.

"I don't know," Ronnie replied, looking down, "it's some childhood trauma shi-"

"Nah you right," the man interrupted, passing Ronnie the cigarette, "we ain't got time."

Ronnie looked at the man, taking the cigarette out of his hand, chuckling, making the couple chuckle as well.

Ronnie lit up the cigarette, took a deep puff, inhaling it deeply as well, before violently coughing up the cloud stretching his hand out as far as possible to hand it back to the man.

"Yessir," the man said as the girl giggled, slowly taking back the cigarette, "das dat gas my nigga!"

"Oh shit." Ronnie replied, coughing out his response, almost immediately feeling the effects. He could barely hear the two burst into laughter as the vision from his left eye switched between dream world and real world with each blink.

"But damn nigga," the man said with the smoke in his lungs, leaning back into his chair, passing the cigarette to the girl, "dat trauma shit got you down?" Ronnie looked up at them, the vision in his left eye now completely real world. 'I'll probably never see y'all again,' he thought, 'why not?'

Ronnie reached out, took one more puff of the cigarette, passed it back to the girl, and leaned his back against the wall, looking up.

"I'm lost bro," he said, pushing the cloud of smoke in his lungs up towards the ceiling, the canvas upon which he would animate his memories, "I had the most beautiful dream in my life yesterday. The woman I ran away with, the woman my heart truly beats for, and I, burned as one flame, the sole illumination within the darkness we had plunged ourselves into, our hearts in each other's hands, as though nothing else truly mattered. I've felt no truer love before." The girl pouted, out of pity, the emotion slightly masked by those giant black goggles.

"But today," Ronnie continued, still facing the ceiling, "I see her struggle to look me in the eye. It feels like at my deepest level, beyond my conscious mind, I misunderstood."

"Damn," the man replied, looking intently at the cigarette in his hand, "dis shit skrong." He tried to pass it on to Ronnie.

"Nah I'm good," Ronnie replied, waving it away, all of them chuckling at the reaction, "but yeah that's what's been on my mind." The man took a puff.

"Have y'all been through some crazy shit?" The man asked, blowing out the smoke.

"Like what?" Ronnie asked in response.

"Shit you ain't never done befo'." The man replied, taking another puff.

"There was one time," Ronnie replied, looking down at the floor, letting out a small chuckle, "yesterday, actually. We robbed a gas station outta nowhere."

"And how she feel 'bout dat?" The man asked, still housing the cloud in his lungs.

"She was," Ronnie replied, lifting his head to look at the man, like he was piecing something together, "excited."

"Exactly," the man replied, smiling, pushing out the smoke in his chest, passing the cigarette to the girl and leaning in, "she tryn'a see dat dawg in you my nigga. They love that shit. Shit be havin' 'em lose they breath and shit, den dey get sticky." The girl pushed his shoulder, her jaw dropping from that last statement.

"For real?" Ronnie asked, he had never thought of it that way.

"I'm dead, da fuck, serious," he said, leaning back and onto the girl's thighs, "shawty right here nigga, ask." Ronnie looked at the girl.

"He do got a point." She replied, taking a puff of the cigarette.

Ronnie looked back down, deep in thought. He thought about how every time they enjoyed themselves the most was when they pushed boundaries they had never let themselves cross alone, and how each time the boundaries grew further, and further out. The one memory, however, that truly tipped him off, was the nine word phrase he recalled hearing from the serpentine lady, in response to his query as to why she liked him. A response that silenced every other thought he had in his head, unopposed.

'...maybe it's because you glow red, like the sun.'

His eyes widened at the epiphany, as he looked at the man. Though he had not fully articulated what exactly such a statement meant, it felt like it resonated with what the man said. Conflicted emotions brewed within Ronnie's core. Though he now had closure, he felt slightly sickened by the belief that he could now see the underlying pattern towards the magic he thought was special to him and Rosa. He now felt as basic as the 'shallow art' he had spent a lifetime criticizing. 'But,' he thought, remembering how truly beautiful the emotions she had sparked within him were, 'I love her. It doesn't matter whether it's basic or shared, what's not shared is my love for her, and her's for me. That's the special magic exclusive to us. If she wants a beast I'll give her one, besides, I can't deny, I, myself, did enjoy robbing the gas station. I did also promise, for her sake, to shine brighter, than that fateful, red, sun.'

With that thought, Ronnie looked down, plotting their next roller coaster. He was planning to push the boundaries to the next level, something he communicated to the couple by abruptly looking up at them, and with his next statement,

"You sell coke?" At that question, noticing the shift in the look in his eye, they slowly turned their heads to face each other, before bursting out into laughter at the idea of the monster they had created.

"Ayo," the man replied, still trying to hold back his laughter, "yeah I got it, shit's pricy doe'."

"I got like," Ronnie replied, thinking about how much he should spend on cocaine, before shaking the thought because, 'fuck the future,' "five hundred."

"Yo," the man replied, surprised, but still trying to hold in his laughter, "I got you. Shii I'm'a throw in a lil' sumn' extra fo' shawty." The man handed him two 8-balls of cocaine and a bag of marijuana and rolling papers. Ronnie handed over all the money he had left. He still needed one more thing.

"Do y'all got black nail polish?" He asked, just as he was about to leave.

"The fuck," the man replied, still laughing, looking at the girl, who found it even more amusing, "you got some?" The girl searched through the blue travel pouch, pulled it out and handed it to Ronnie.

"Shit," Ronnie replied, "I ain't got extra cash on me right now."

"It's a'ight." The girl replied, smiling at him.

"Yeah my nigga," the man replied, dapping him up, then lightly tapping Ronnie's chest. "let dat dawg out."

Ronnie walked out, back to the car, on a new mission. He got in, and immediately grabbed the airstoft gun on the floor of the backseat. He unboxed it and began to slather the black nail polish all over the colourful parts of the gun. He was really up to no good. Rosa sat up. Her attention was drawn by the blended scent of Ronnie's herbal aura and the chemical scent of the nail polish.

"What," she wondered, looking over the seat shoulder, pulling out the earphones from her ears, "what are you doing?"

"You're awake," he replied, setting the gun back into the box to dry, "check this out." Ronnie pulled out the stash he had just collected.

"How about," he looked Rosa in the eyes, her eyes lighting up as well, "we pull another heist, but more fun this time."

"Are you crazy?" Rosa rhetorically asked, looking at the airsoft gun, drying, on the passenger seat, with the widest smile on her face. It was working, she was finally energized, however, it all ended when she looked into his eyes, and through the window to her soul, he watched her spirits drop, followed by her head.

"I'm," she sighed, getting back into the fetal position, turning her back towards him, laying down, "I'm still not in the mood."

Ronnie was heartbroken and confused. The look in her eye was that same look he had seen in the first drawing she had in her purple book, and he was not sure whether to get involved or give her time, to be patient or to apologise. This complex mix of confusion, guilt, pain, collectively, left Ronnie frustrated, and the bump of cocaine he snorted did not help quell this whatsoever, as he sped off.

'I wish she would just tell me,' he thought, his blood boiling with each emotional word he articulated, 'now I wasted all our money on this bullshit.' His rage was scalar, looking for an out. He grabbed the steering wheel tighter as he approached and stopped by a traffic light. He looked further up the road and saw a jewellery store, and looked at his fully dry pistol, ready for action. It was 6PM.

'We need the money.' That was the conscious reason he gave, as he drove up to the front of the store with no regard for how he parked the car. He was not a paying customer after all.

He took one more bump of cocaine, furiously rubbing his nose with his sleeve afterwards to cover his tracks. Ronnie stepped out, fuming. Each step he took remembering the frustration he was feeling, furrowing his eyebrows with each blink of his eyes from the pent up rage within him, the cocaine coursing through his blood only amplifying these emotions. No gameplan in mind, just a wailing heart, which was beating to its limit. He kicked open the door, waving the gun around, aiming at air. The store appeared empty, no one in front of him, but on his right, a middle aged, heavy set, white man with a buzz cut, in a plain white collared tee, grabbing something from under the counter. Everything started moving in slow motion in that moment. 'He surely wouldn't fight a gun with a black rod.' Ronnie thought, still unaware of the game ending device the man wielded in his hands. It was at that moment, Ronnie remembered, he was still in Alabama, and black rods were not the most popular weapon of choice he could have attached to the members of this state. He ran out of the store, barely missing the first shot the man took, shattering the glass door. The man followed, as though he was chasing a wounded buck. Ronnie jumped into the car, seeing Rosa sat up, startled by the booming sound she had just heard. Ronnie looked out the window to see the man roughly ten feet away, cocking his gun and aiming it at the car, shouting, at the top of his lungs,

"You dirty ni-"

"Duck!" Ronnie shouted to Rosa, as they both ducked their heads. The gun went off, blowing back shards, the remnants of the front and rear left windows, as the tires screeched in their hurried get away.

They drove off, in silence, once again. This was definitely an adrenaline fueled experience, lacking, however, in the sensation Ronnie had found himself hooked on, this sensation was more akin to dread. Silence, as the breeze of the unobstructed winds beat against the side of Ronnie's face and dusk settled in, Ronnie's mind was entirely occupied by the taste of death his reckless actions had exposed the both of them to.

"Stop," he heard Rosa utter, "stop the car, up ahead." Ronnie stopped the car, by the road, near a forest, in the middle of nowhere.

"Come to the back." She said. Ronnie got in through the right rear door.

"Lean back." She said, as Ronnie leaned his back against the door. 'Did that insanity work?' He asked himself. All the signs pointed towards a sexual encounter, despite the fact that Ronnie was not in that state of mind. She lay her head on Ronnie's chest and wrapped her arms around him, tightening her grip, as though she was afraid of losing him. This was all Ronnie had wanted this entire day. He was finally at ease, as he rested his arms on her back.

"Why would you do something so dumb?" She asked. They could now afford to laugh at the experience a bit.

"I don't know," Ronnie replied, "someone told me it might...raise your spirits."

"I mean," she replied, "I enjoy it when we go crazy, but I almost lost you today." She held him even tighter.

"I know," he replied, feeling dumb about his choices, "I was scared too. You just seemed so bummed out today. This right here is all I really wanted," Ronnie chuckled looking out the exploded rear window, "and I guess it only cost me five hundred dollars and two windows."

Rosa's grip loosened, as though she lost all her energy, before bursting into tears. Ronnie heard the sniffles and felt a cold sensation on his chest, from the tears soaking into his shirt.

"What's wrong?" He asked looking down at her forehead. She cried harder.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" He asked again, in a concerned, half whispering voice.

"No," she whispered back, sniffling, "just...just hold me." Ronnie held her tight, tears welling up in his eyes too. Though he could not tell what it was, it hurt him deeply to see her like this, and if all she needed was a hug, he had millions of those in store to give, as he rested his cheek on her head.

Her cries slowly died down, turning into the sweet melodies she sang in her sleep. 'Whatever it is,' Ronnie thought, 'we'll get through it.' Ronnie thought it would be best to call it a night at this time, and follow her along into the dream world, however, as he pulled the cover over her shoulders, he noticed a scar, a light cut, over Rosa's shoulder, possibly from the shards of flying glass as the window exploded. He looked up at the stars, through the window behind him, the cold breeze whistling through his ears. He felt bothered at his core, but was unaware of why he still felt this way. He looked at the floor, where his red book lay. It had been a while since he last picked it up, and he figured he could lose himself in the art once again, however, as he wrote of the promise he had made to the serpentine lady in her sleep, it was as though the voice from deep within his core had been propelled up to mind. 'Is this really the paradise I sought to shape for her?' He thought. 'We can't even get a motel now, yet we have bags of cocaine, which she hasn't even touched yet. How can I, honestly, claim this was all for her? This is my fault, I have to resolve it.'

Ronnie lay Rosa on the backseat, tucking her in a gently as he could to ensure she would not be shaken out of her slumber. It was now 10PM. Ronnie drove back into Phenix City, where he saw a lone two storey house. He waited at a distance for all the lights to shut off, and waited an extra hour. He snuck in through an upstairs window, picking off phones and laptops from every room, before promptly sneaking back out through the window. He journeyed off to Macon where he pawned the loot off for one thousand three hundred dollars, to be a surprise, for Rosa, once she would wake up in Georgia. He found a motel in Macon, where he could rest, truly sheltered from the forces of nature.

He parked the car, making sure to keep the keys this time. He got the room keys, opened the rear door, gently picking Rosa up, wrapped up in the covers, and began walking to the room, however, as he walked on, he heard an object plop onto the floor from within the covers. Looking behind him, he noticed it was her purple book. He took her to the room and placed her in bed, kissing her forehead, before rushing out to go get the book. It was still there, blown open by the wind, a blank page openly displayed. He picked it up, shutting it.

He would not have looked through it a second time, or so he thought, but the waft of fresh biro ink was too tempting to ignore. 'Maybe,' he thought, 'maybe it's what she couldn't tell me. Maybe I could help her if I knew. How would it be wrong to know?' He convinced himself, listening in, to the voices of temptation. However, even though his intentions were pure hearted, what he saw, flipping to the page at the back, only served to rip that pure heart to shreds.

"How?" He asked himself out loud. It was all he could think, faced with an image, even in his darkest nightmare, he never could fathom. Though just a week had passed, this entire half of his life, the sacrifices, the pain, the growth, the beauty he believed they shared, in her heart of hearts, apparently, could only be pictured as it was here, her toying with a dogs mind, a dog that specifically had a scar over its left eye, controlled like a puppet. A week in, and this sight displayed something that struck deep within Ronnie, deeper than trouble in paradise, as it showed, that the paradise was simply an illusion to begin with. Ronnie hated how familiar this feeling was, where the illusion fades, and reality wins again. He fell to his knees, dropping the book. All the memories they had made replaying through his mind, forced him to vomit, from how intensely sick to his stomach they made him feel, as though his body was physically rejecting them. He looked up at the stars, recalling the challenge he had set to life, to tear his heart into a million pieces.

"Why!" He let out a demonic shriek, from the bottom of his heart, fueled by all the suffering life still continued to put him through. The waterworks began.

He kept looking up, waiting for the red hue to seep back in, however, something else was on his mind, that would not let him completely commit to this hopeless state. 'She cried in my arms,' he thought, 'why would she cry in my arms? Why wouldn't she mind me spending the money so recklessly? Why would she let herself go, with that kiss, as I sped along the highway? How can't I convince myself, even when faced with her direct statement, that all the emotions we shared were one-sided? What the fuck is this? Hope?' He felt his conscious mind had been shown clear as day what she had said, but his heart felt like it had been shown what she meant. She was driving him crazy, as he stood up, grabbing his hair with his hands, using every ounce of his willpower not to rip it off, as he walked back and forth.

He walked to the car, dropping his fist on the bonnet, denting it inwards, feeling a mental release, stopping, and catching his breath. He could see his reflection on the windscreen. He was tired, his face was wet with tears, and he generally looked like a mess. He could have let this act as reason for another tantrum, but he decided to try keep cool, to wait and see what would end up unravelled later on. He walked into the motel room. Rosa was still asleep, however, she was not producing the melodic sound that enchanted Ronnie. 'Had she,' Ronnie thought, the formulating thought making his blood boil, 'had she been faking it this entire time, because of Gi?' He took deeper breaths to compose himself, as he took a shower, and slept on his stomach, on the brink of explosion.

He awoke that night, in a new world, ablaze. He was holding the serpentine lady's hand, who was glowing purple, back in her serpentine form, awakening at the same time as him. They were at the edge, at a wall that extended upwards to infinity, and though the hole they fell in through was only a few feet in diameter, the base was a flat land as giant as the surface dream world. In the air, a light, constant, stale scent of metal occupying it entirely, sparking a sense of anxiety with each breath. It was completely dark upon looking up in this world, no stars in sight, no moon. The only illumination present was the glowing individuals, who moved around, as their own sources of light. Everyone was naked, no shame, and the darkness was enough to keep them warm.

"We're here." Ronnie said, looking around, encapsulated by the entirely new environment.

"Indeed we are." The serpentine lady replied, standing up and looking around as well, letting go of Ronnie's hand, leaving a cold sensation in his hand. As he rubbed his hand he remembered that though he could not feel it at the moment, this was the dream world, a symbolic representation of the real world, and so he braced for the nightmare it had in store.

The serpentine lady's knees buckled, and Ronnie instinctively jumped to help her up.

"I'm weak," she said, looking at him, "would you mind carrying me on your back?" Ronnie hated the parallel this world was setting up, but the serpentine lady was light, and this was simply her queue, so he did it, even as the emotional unease began to set in. 'Maybe she needs food.' He thought, as he went off searching for this world's equivalent.

She fell asleep on his back, assuring him he was going in the right direction. In the distance, he could see two glowing bodies, playfully wrestling, and figured it was the two he had met earlier in the day. He walked up to them and could clearly see them now. They were hybrids as well, like the serpentine lady. The man glowed green, and was half hyena, while the girl glowed orange, and seemed like a lynx. They stopped their playful tussle once he approached them.

"Fascinating," the hyena said, in a half whispering voice, circling, around him on all fours "you're on fire."

"Yes," the lynx added, also half whispering, encircling him in the opposite direction, "you would make a perfect meal." 'Ain't no way this world made you talk like this,' Ronnie thought, before realising what type of time they were on, 'hold up.'

"Meal?" Ronnie asked, confused as to what dynamic this world thought these three had in the real world.

"Don't you know," the hyena continued in its predatory voice, still circling him, "this world, in the absence of the sun, bears no fruit. You must hunt to survive." Ronnie began to feel on edge about the threat these two posed to the serpentine lady and himself, sparking the flame brighter, to protect the serpentine lady as well, as he took a battle ready stance. This startled the two predators into jumping back.

"What a brilliant flame," the hyena asked, "what could it be, one like yourself, would venture out here for?"

"A remedy, I suppose," Ronnie replied, "the lady here is weak, I'm worried she might perish." Ronnie immediately shook his head realising he had begun to talk like them.

"Incredible," the lynx chimed in, with a look of awe in her eyes as she looked at Ronnie, "even in these depths, your heart still has space to care for another."

"You are what you eat," the hyena replied, "if it's thicker skin she requires, I suggest you carve out the heart of a hippopotamus. They reside down by the lake."

"If its skin is thick," Ronnie replied, "won't I need a weapon?"

"Indeed," the hyena replied, turning around and digging into the dirt behind him, "this should work." He handed Ronnie a scythe, clean and sharp, as though it had never been used before.

"What are you?" Ronnie asked the hyena.

"I'm a weapons dealer," the hyena replied, "I trade these weapons for other goods. As you can see, I'm quite short, but I still have to survive. I barely ever have to hunt this way."

"What would you require of me?" Ronnie asked.

"Your flames," the hyena replied, "you're seriously formidable. All I ask for is immunity from those flames, like the lady on your back, and a handful of those ignitable hairs." Ronnie used the scythe to shear off a few hairs off of his arm, carrying with them the red flame off of his arm, and dropping them into the hyenas hands, before journeying off to the lake.

As he walked there, he noticed, the only other hybrids he had ever met came from these depths. 'Was the serpentine lady trying to trick me?' He thought. 'She made it seem like this was her first time down here. Why wouldn't she just be open with me? Why lie to me to bring me down here?' The image Rosa had drawn flashed in his head, leaving a striking pain in his chest. He refused to accept that answer. He began to think about what the lynx had said earlier, about whether she would have the space in her heart to care for Ronnie as well in these depths. 'She would,' he confidently thought at first, then doubt seeped in, 'wouldn't she?' Before Ronnie could flesh out the thought, Ronnie's was snapped out of his trance.

"Ronnie," the serpentine lady anxiously said, "what's happening?" Ronnie looked around. He had mindlessly stumbled, knee deep, into a lake of blood, roughly forty feet wide, surrounded by nothing but forest cover. Directly in front of him was a hippo head peeking out of the blood. The anxiety of the situation forced Ronnie to ignite his flames brighter, tightening the grip on his scythe, to try scare it off, but this only made it worse. The creature emerged out of the blood, a fifteen foot tall hybrid, as maroon as the blood it bathed in, holding two spiked clubs, each Ronnie's height, maroon, stained by the blood they were doused in. Upon looking up at this monster, Ronnie understood what that constant, stale, scent in the air of these depths was. Someone's blood had to be shed, for another to eat, and what he had just come face to face with, was death.

Ronnie leaped backwards, out of the lake, missing the first swing the hippo took. The splashed blood dousing Ronnie's flame as it splattered onto him. Ronnie ran into the forest as the hippo followed in hot pursuit, swinging its club again. Ronnie ducked, as this second swing cleared the surrounding forest cover, shooting sharp chips of wood like shrapnel from the impact. Ronnie ran deeper into the forest, where he found a tiny hole the two of them could barely squeeze through.

The two, now facing each other, still coated with the blood from the lake, could finally catch their breath. The serpentine lady dug her head into Ronnie's chest, holding him as tightly as she could.

"I thought I lost you." She said, sniffling. This was the first time he had seen her consciously show such an emotion, like she was afraid. Though it pained Ronnie to admit that this was possibly part of her elaborate, manipulative, plan, his heart would never forgive him for letting her endure those feelings alone. He held onto her, trying to let his tender gem feel safe again, until she eventually fell asleep in his arms, quivering, in the absence of those comforting red flames.

The quivering convinced Ronnie that he might have overreacted about the drawing. Ronnie slowly emerged out the hole, making sure not to wake the serpentine lady up. The quiver was too reminiscent of the creature he swore to protect, if she was acting, she knew exactly how to tug on his heart strings. He came across a hut, occupied by two sleeping goblins. In this ugly world he had fallen into, he did not mean for them to take it personally, but for them to understand, that this, was merely a survival instinct, as he bound them up in their bed sheet as they slept, swapping their comfort, for the serpentine lady's.

As he lay on the bed with her on his chest, he noticed she had stopped quivering, despite the fact that his flames were still off. 'She's peaceful,' he thought raising his hand to his face, 'I should have known. Twice, in one night, she's lied to me, twice, I've fallen for it.' His blood was boiling, but he maintained his composure. Had he ignited, he would have burnt her to a crisp. He looked at her mouth. A fang hang over her lip. 'Is this what she plans to consume me with?' He thought, reaching out to touch it, however, upon touching it, it pricked him, and he was inflicted, by some of her venom, immediately passing out.

He woke up, dazed. By the feel of the cold, hard, concrete, floor, he could tell he was back in the Borderlands. He looked to his right to see the golden baby leaned up against a wall, bruised, looking defeated.

"Long time no see," the golden baby weakly said, giving Ronnie a smile, "pal." Ronnie rushed towards him, picking him up. No matter how tormenting it had been to constantly have him in his ear, he could not stand to see him so beat up.

"What happened?" Ronnie asked it, the worriment drawn all over his face palpable.

"Don't worry about me," the golden baby said, looking over at the rest of the coloured golems "look." The blue golem was curled up in a corner, rocking back and forth, while the red golem sat two feet away, calmly watching. He felt a tug on his shirt from below. It was the orange toddler golem, reaching its hand out for him to hold it.

The toddler led him by the hand to the blue golem, which was now on its side, grabbing its head, still frantically rocking. The toddler pointed at the blue golem, then looked up at Ronnie, as though it was asking him to do something. The blue golem noticed this and got startled, sitting up trying to push itself deeper into the corner.

"No, no, no, it's okay, it's okay" Ronnie urged it, letting go of the toddler's hand, slowly crouching down, reaching out towards it, "easy, easy, I'm not a threat. Here, take my hand" The golem looked around at the other golems, then back at Ronnie, keeping its hands to itself, still trying to back into the corner, frantically nodding no.

"Yes," Ronnie urged it, pitifully smiling at it, "trust me." It slowly reached out its hand. Ronnie tried to keep still, avoiding any sudden movements that might have startled it.

As soon as their hands made contact, flashes, of what appeared to be blotted out memories he had, of the serpentine lady injecting her venom into his blood stream. Every time she licked his face, every time they slept together, even just as she mounted his back a few minutes ago, she had been using these opportunities to maintain control of his mind.

"What?" Ronnie muttered, falling back and sitting down, feeling betrayed, looking to the ceiling of the lair.

"Stop!" The golden baby urged him, still in his arm, tugging on his shirt.

"What?" Ronnie muttered again, feeling dizzy.

"You can't let his ideas get to you!" The golden baby continued to urge him.

The life sucking brew of emotions these thoughts left in his core was intensely painful, and he would have to carry the weight from these thoughts with him, back to the real world, as Ronnie fell onto his back, unconscious.

Ronnie woke up on his back, still sick. Rosa was not in bed beside him. He sat up turning, his legs over the side of bed, facing the wall. The golden baby was leaning against the wall, still beaten, bruised and weak.

"Don't...give...in." The golden baby was so battered that it could barely get the words out of its mouth. Ronnie held his head in his hands in despair. 'How can I not give in?' He thought. 'I have to stay strong,' a voice from within him uttered, 'because...maybe.' It could not articulate the thought.

He dragged himself around getting ready to leave, fueled by that half-baked motivation, fighting the negative thoughts combined with weariness of his body having woken up at noon. He walked out of the motel room to see his vomit, dried out on the pavement, the dented bonnet of the car, and Rosa seated in the front passenger seat, looking down. The book was not on the floor where Ronnie had left it last night, so he knew, she knew, he knew.

Ronnie got into the car, started it, and started driving.

"Where are we going?" Rosa asked.

"Atlanta." Ronnie replied, dismissively.

"How," she held herself back, trying to build up the courage to ask, "how are you feeling." 'How the fuck do you expect me to feel?' That's what his heart wanted to ask, but he kept his composure, keeping his foot on the mine, letting out a frustrated sigh, keeping his eyes on the road.

"I'm cool." He replied. Rosa hated how cold he was acting now, but understood that she was guilty. Not given the space to explain herself, itching to blurt out an apology at least, the silence in the car on the drive was unbearable, and only helped accentuate that guilty pain. This was not what she had aimed for making that drawing.

They toured around Atlanta, the entire day, that slowly shifted into dusk, all while that painful silence festered through all the sights they saw, meals they shared, and memories they made, saved, in the form of pictures Rosa took, that truly captured the essence of their day. Ronnie, over the past decade, had solidified the art of keeping to himself.

9PM. They sat in the car. Rosa was absolutely fed up by the cold shoulder Ronnie had given her the entire day. She sighed and dropped her shoulders.

"We should go out." She said, turning to face Ronnie. Ronnie saw the defeated look on her face, and though it initially brought him some relief to see he had poked her back, the voice deep within him that still held onto the love they shared would not let him get away with that. He shook his head, and looked into her eyes.

"Where do you wanna go?" He asked. Her eyes widened, surprised, joyful that he still genuinely wanted to do something for her. She did not want to get too excited.

"Let's go to a club." She said.

"A club," Ronnie said, confused, "it's a Monday."

"Exactly," she replied, searching through her bag, pulling out a fake ID, "they'll be more lenient." Ronnie had never been to a club, so he really could not contest her point.

With barely anyone at the entrance, the two were able to just waltz in, holding hands, unchecked.

"See," Rosa said, excitedly shaking Ronnie's hand, "we're in!" As the night went on, more and more people flooded into the club. 11PM, It was fairly lively for a Monday night. Ronnie and rosa stood by the shot bar. A line of six tequila shots was set before them. Rosa coated her tongue in salt, taking the first shot, while Ronnie drank his straight, feeling some relief in the chemical pain he felt as it trickled down his throat. He looked up at the stage and saw a DJ getting ready, above him, a poster, that explained why everybody was flooding in.

"Yuh mon," the DJ loudly announced, starting off the instrumental to the song 'I'm still in love with you' by 'Sean Paul', 'wuh yaw seh Atlanta yutedem, iss yuh brudda DJ Challice pon' di place, yuh know dat. Mi wan fi see who gat di roots inn'a di bloodstream tonight, dis one fi ya dancehall night, done know!"

"Ooh!" Rosa exclaimed, cringing from the bitter taste of the second shot. Ronnie scoffed, taking his second shot as well.

"How the fuck are you doing that?" She shouted, over the blaring music. Ronnie just shrugged his shoulders. The liquor started kicking in.

Rosa dropped her shoulders, she could still tell he was thinking about the drawing situation.

"Come," she shouted, taking his hand and tugging him, "let's dance together!" Ronnie shook his head no.

"Come on," she urged him, still at the top of her lungs, "it'll be fun!"

"I'm not dancing." Ronnie frustratedly said, barely audible, letting go of her hand. Rosa felt unappreciated, which almost always meant bad news. She set her hands on her waist, giving him a cheeky look.

"I'll find somebody else to dance with!" She half-jokingly threatened. 'Are you trying to manipulate me?' Ronnie thought, as his anger was mounting. He shrugged his shoulders, turning back to take his third shot.

Rosa accepted his challenge, turned around, caught the attention of one of the men in the group behind her, and started gyrating and grinding on the man in rhythm with the song. His friends noticed what was going on, quickly whipping out their phones, flashlights on, calling attention to what was unfolding, recording her break his heart once more.

It was the way she held the back of his neck, the way he took in the perfume on her neck, the way he wrapped his arms around her waist, the way she looked at him, with those serpentine eyes, however, the goofy smile that the man had as he looked at Ronnie, toying with his heart's deepest treasure, was the straw, that broke the proverbial camel's back. Ronnie went deaf.

He took the last shot. The tang from this one as it trickled down his throat left a loud ringing in his left ear, forcing him to close his eyes. In that moment, as everything slowed down, Ronnie was transported to the Borderlands. The blue golem was screaming through a ripped open hole in its face acting like a mouth, as though it could no longer hold in its concern. Its high pitch scream shook the entire lair, which was now slowly crumbling from the tremors. Ronnie walked up to it.

"You were right." He said, perfectly comfortable with letting it tear the entire lair down, collapsing the roof onto all of them, killing them all in an instant, but in the back of his mind, he wanted some form of justice. As soon as he realized this, he felt a hand lightly grab his arm from behind, calling his attention. It was the red golem. The energy it gave off felt beautiful in this moment, as if it was a manifestation of all the chaos in the back of his mind. It reached out its hand as if to offer an alternative. With no hesitation whatsoever, Ronnie grabbed its forearm, and it his.

He opened his eyes, setting the shot glass on the table. He stood upright facing the two performers in the spotlight. His face was emotionless, but the red in his eyes was enough to vanish the smile that the man had on his face, loosen the grip he had on Rosa's waist, and communicate, to everyone in the immediate surrounding, that it was about, to go, down. Rosa promptly moved out of the way into the crowd, while the rest stepped back a bit.

"Wuh yaw seh," the DJ announced, scratching the records to a stop, noticing the dying down energy in the crowd, "mi nuh know wagwan down der bot disyah one fi di lovebirds inn'a di place, 'old ya girl tight like glue!" With that last statement, as if it was the starting whistle blow of a referee, as the people still had their phones out recording, quite poetically, all hell broke lose in the club, to the tune of 'Like glue' by 'Sean Paul'.

Ronnie was seeing red, as fought the man alongside his three friends. He knocked two of them out cold, mindlessly swinging haymakers at their heads while the other two bound his arms and struck blows to his face. Ronnie felt immune to their blows. He was smelling blood, tasting blood, and it was intoxicating. He loved it. He managed to wrestle an arm out, grab one of the bottles from the shot bar, and smash it behind of the men's ears, knocking him out instantly, the shattering glass cutting his hand open. This pain only fueled his charge towards the last man, whom he tackled, and proceeded to bloody with his already bloody fist, until he put him to sleep.

Ronnie stood up, looking around the club, bleeding through his mouth, nose and eyebrow. He could see how his energy had spread throughout the club, into the upstairs sections and even on stage. Looking around at the chaos he had orchestrated, he felt as though the fire in his core had been set free, to burn everything down. As he raised his arms, revelling in the chaos, he took a deep breath, rife with excitement. This release was what he felt this pain had yearned for, a spiritual ejaculation.

Suddenly, he got tackled from the back, falling to his face. He tried to wrestle out but this man was too heavy. It was the bouncer, doing his best at damage control. The bouncer sat up on Ronnie's back preparing to restrain him, when the bouncer suddenly got soccer kicked in the jaw, falling onto his back, unconscious.

"Damn nigga," it was the drug dealer from the day prior, smiling, reaching out his hand to help Ronnie up, "you really is a dawg ass nigga!"