The In-Between morphed into a sight that didn't seem nostalgic to me but was a place I remembered visiting from time to time: a parking lot. Specifically, my high school's parking lot.
"For a parking lot," Death hummed, looking around. "I don't see any cars around."
"There is," I said, pointing at the leftmost portion of the parking area where motorcycles were designated. "Look."
Death turned to where I was pointing.
There, a motorcycle accessorized with all kinds of upgrades and stickers to look expensive (but if you had the slightest bit of knowledge of motorcycle prices, you'd know that it was one of the cheapest models on the market) was parked.
Next to the motor was the young me.
I had something in my hand that we couldn't identify initially since we were so far away. We walked toward her to get a closer view, only for Death to stop dead in his tracks once he realized the object I was holding was emitting a cloud of smoke.
"Are you smoking?!" Death gasped dramatically. "Aren't you, like, underage?"
"Never seen a high school girl light a cigarette before?" I glared at him, offended at how much he judged the young me.
It's not that surprising for a high school student to be smoking. Yes, it's illegal, but kids love doing illegal shit.
"Of course I have!" Death grunted. "It's just... you've changed so much compared to your middle school—"
Death paused, squinting his eyes at the younger me. He took a few steps closer until he stood before me.
This was probably the first time since the whole duration of our journey that I saw Death be this close to a person in my past. I only realized now that Death gave the people in my memory a wide berth.
"What happened to your face?"
Compared to his previous tone, it was no longer judgmental.
It was full of worry for the welfare of the younger me. It made my heart melt seeing him with such an expression. I wasn't sure if it was his expression that made my heart throb or that this expression was directed at me.
Well, at least, the younger me.
I was holding a cigarette in my right hand while my left hand was nursing my swollen cheek.
"I told you," I said as I walked to Death and the younger me, now side by side with them. "I became a delinquent."
"But you were an honor student!" Death pointed it out in disbelief. "That shouldn't be possible!"
"Just because I became a delinquent during high school doesn't mean I magically became stupid, Death." I frowned. "Anyway, if I remember correctly, the younger me got into a fistfight a few hours before this memory."
"Why?" Death looked like he couldn't process what was happening.
"I was young." was the only answer I gave.
"That's it?"
I nodded, not wanting to explain myself to him.
Yes, I used to pick fights with people for the most minuscule reasons.
Do I regret it? I'm not sure, because some of them deserved it. What could a person do to deserve getting beat to a bloody pulp? I honestly can't recall.
But I knew I used to beat many people back in high school.
This was just one of the many examples I gave.
"I'm surprised this didn't reach your Granma." Death frowned, still eying younger me's bruised face that was turning more purple by the second.
"I'm surprised myself." I nodded, agreeing with him. "Either way, she's too old to beat my ass now."
"But if it weren't your Granma, it would be the authorities." Death pointed it out.
"I guess it was just a matter of luck that nobody reported me. Both school and local authorities, I mean." I added it as an afterthought.
"Hey."
A voice called me out of nowhere.
I clicked her tongue, crushing the cigarette beneath the soles of her leather shoes.
"Hey, I said." The voice repeated.
"What?" I spun around to meet the source of the voice, only to see the most infamous person in school, along with his cronies.
This man was the most well-built person my stormy gray eyes had ever seen.
He was tall, probably the same height or even taller than Klaus. But the difference between them is that Klaus was a lanky fellow, while this man was built as a character from an arcade fighting game.
His charcoal-black hair was pushed to the back, revealing his well-chiseled face and thick eyebrows. His chocolate brown eyes were sharp and intimidating; one look from him, and you'd feel your life was in danger.
A black long sleeve covered his arm, his biceps bulged, and you could see the veins popping at the fabric. I didn't know if his trousers were tight or if he hadn't just skipped leg day.
He was probably the most terrifying yet handsome man I had ever seen.
"What?" Death tried to stifle his laughter. "He has sidekicks? This happens in real life?"
I shrugged.
Yes, this person has actual sidekicks. Six of them. They follow this person around like a bunch of lost puppies. Though I knew they'd end up baring their teeth if I had gotten on the wrong side of their Boss.
Why was the first letter in the word 'boss' capitalized? Well, that's his actual name.
"Boss?" Death repeated as if that was the stupidest name he'd ever heard in his long existence.
I nodded.
The thing was, nobody knew what Boss' real name was. Everyone just called him 'Boss', even the teachers.
"That's just stupid!" Death spluttered incredulously.
Indeed, it was.
But if you were in my shoes, you wouldn't think that. You were standing in front of the most well-known gang leader in the district. He'd shrug his head, and one of his minions would push a knife down your throat.
But I wasn't afraid.
I'm Evangeline Vermillion, after all.
"What do you want from me?" I glared.
"I want you to join me." Boss said.
"As your sidekick?"
"YOU ACTUALLY SAID IT!" Death guffawed as heartily as when I beat up Boggart and her friends while stark naked.
Boss didn't comment on her choice of words. He merely nodded.
"That's it?" I leered. "You won't even explain why you're inviting me?"
He gestured at his cronies. One of them stepped up and began to explain.
'Nice, he won't even talk directly to me.' I internally rolled my eyes.
"Boss heard about you." The minion said. "He thinks you should be one of us."
"What would I get from being in your 'club'?" I sneered.
"'CLUB'?!" Death was howling, holding his stomach for dear life. "DO YOU HAVE A DEATH WISH?!"
"You can do whatever you want if you're under us," The minion explained. "The teachers won't touch you if they know you're one of us. Plus, if you're under Boss, our members won't attack you for running on our turf."
"By turf," I repeated, "you mean the whole school?"
He nodded.
"A sane person would think this through thoroughly," I said as we watched the younger me glare at the people in front of me menacingly, but it looked like I was genuinely contemplating their offer.
"But you aren't," Death shook his head, finally calming down from his laughter high. "You're Evangeline Vermillion, after all."
"You know me so well."
I spat at Boss's face.
"WHAT THE FUCK?!" Death screamed at the top of his lungs. "YOU REALLY DO HAVE A DEATH WISH!"