The fire burned to Embers. Through the lens of alcohol and weed, Nyx’s dark cherry aura was pale against the night sky as she smoked her cigarette beside Kismet. One leg crossed over the other as she jiggled her foot. The substances made it feel like she was swathed in a ball of cotton and pushed the hum of voices away from the base of her skull, so that it sounded more a kin to a group grumbling in another room. Her skin prickled with a soft numbness.

They didn’t talk about the hug, or how Nyx was still struggling to pull back tears. Instead, Kismet reached over and slowly rubbed the other girl’s back in slow circles.

She’s been so helpful to me, I wish there was something more I could do for her. Instead, here I am, getting ready to blow up her life.

Nausea burbled in Kismet’s gut and her stomach heaved.

“I’m sorry, I gotta -” she began, but Nyx nodded in understanding.

“Sure, sure.” Nyx looked up at her as she stood. “Is everything ok?”

“Yeah, um, I think the liquor’s just getting to me is all.”

“Oh, do you want me to come with you? Do you need help?”

Kismet shook her head. “No thanks. I’ll be right back.”

She shuffled away from the fire, heading toward the water. The others shouted and squealed, splashing around at the edge of the ocean, but she made sure to keep away. Her stomach rolled and her vision swam. The cold water against her bare feet brought her back into awareness, if only a little.

A hand on her shoulder made her jump, and she turned to see Angel grinning down at her. His naked chest was streaked with mud, and his hair hung limp with ocean water, clumping with salt, dirt and strings of seaweed. His close presence eliminated what fragments of the murmuring voices remained and the sudden silence nearly crushed her.

“You alright over here?” he asked.

“Yeah, totally fine,” she said.

“You’ve been quiet all night, even for you. I just wanted to make sure you’re not over here stuffing rocks in your pockets or something.”

She couldn’t help it and laughed. “No, seriously, I’m fine.”

Angel quirked an eyebrow. “Look Kizzy, I’m the last person to go prying into someone else's' business, but I can’t help but notice you’ve been drinking all night.”

She twisted her sleeves in her hands and turned toward the sea, watching the waves lap up against the sand. The distant city lights of Happsburg twinkled through the encroaching fog.

“Am I not allowed to celebrate or something?” she grumbled, kicking at clumps of mud and pebbles.

“I know celebrating, and this ain’t it,” Angel said. “You don’t want to talk about it, fine. That’s cool. We can stand here in silence. My favorite.”

Ugh, Angel why do you have to choose right now to be supportive? If you only knew…

“Why don’t you drink more often?” Angel asked. “If it suppresses your powers like it does mine, I’m surprised you’re not wasted all the time since you hate them so much.”

“I don’t want to get reliant on it to feel better,” she said, finally looking at him again. “I’ve seen what that does to people, so I’d rather not.”

In some of the homes she’d lived in, the guardians had been far from sober, and after fleeing Jade, her time alone on the street only served to show her why she should stay far away from trying to her numb herself. Kismet had seen far too many people suffering. Sure, chemicals could offer a type of relief from the onslaught of her abilities, but she did not want to trade one problem for another.

“I don’t like feeling out of control,” she continued. “I don’t want to say or do anything… weird, or not remember.”

“What? That’s the best part,” Angel teased. “I’m glad I don’t remember half the shit I’ve done. The stuff I do remember is bad enough.”

Kismet sighed, shoving her hands into the front pocket of her hoodie. The ocean rumbled between them to the tune of the smaller stones tumbling against each other. She could smell the brine clinging to the fog.

“Hey, um, Kismet, you’re a girl…” Angel began, shifting his weight, fidgeting.

“Last time I checked,” she laughed. “What’s that have to do with anything?”

“Well, uh, um, does Nyx ever talk girl stuff with you?”

Kismet scrunched her brow in confusion, unsure what he was getting at. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Do you think there’s any hope for me? I can’t seem to get it right.”

I wish you two would just talk to each other.

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

“Of course there is,” Kismet said, looking up at his face. The playful glimmer in his eyes was replaced with shadow. “You don’t need me to tell you how much she cares about you.”

She studied his face, the sudden innocence in his eyes,and her heart sank, churning the liquor around in her guts.

But you do. Or at least you need me to tell you something.

“Sometimes I think of it like this,” Kismet explained. “You’re like a blind man in the desert searching for water, but there’s an oasis right in front of you, and you just can’t see it. There is love all around you Angel. I can see it, literally, in everyone’s auras and how they feel around you. It’s complicated, sure, but love always is. I just wish you could see it for yourself.”

He tensed, fiddling with the silver rings on his fingers, twisting them with short, quick, movements.

“I don’t wanna be this way, Kizzy,” he muttered, so quietly his voice was nearly drowned by the waves, “but I don’t know what to do. I can’t change. I’m so… I dunno… lost, I guess. I don’t wanna be broken forever. I wish I knew what the fuck is wrong with me. Like if I could pluck this rotten part out of me right out, I would. I just can’t.”

Guilt sat so heavily upon Kismet’s shoulders, her knees buckled beneath the weight. Liquor along with stomach acid coiled like a venomous serpent in her guts, tightening and squeezing. She doubled over and threw up in the sand.

Startled, Angel jumped to the side. “Whoa, Kizzy, you ok?”

“Yeah, I-I, uh, just drank too much,” she said, tears burning the edges of her eyes. “I think maybe I should go home - to Nyx’s.”

“Ok, sure, yeah. I’ll fly you?”

“No, that’s ok.”

She hurried away from him, shuffling back up toward the fire. He followed her, but she wouldn’t slow down. Alistair caught up to them, the smile sliding off his face when his eyes landed on Kismet’s distraught expression. He was also bare chested, coated in mud and seaweed.

“Hey, what’s up?” he asked.

“She’s a bit drunk,” Angel explained. “I offered to fly her home, but -”

“It’s alright, really,” Kismet insisted, refusing to look at either of them, fighting against the tears building up inside. She couldn’t stand to meet the concerned look in Alistair’s eyes.

“How about I walk you then?” Alistair suggested. “Sorry I’m a bit too fucked up to drive, but walking I can manage.”

I don’t deserve their kindness.

“No, I can walk by myself. I know the way,” she insisted, trying to trudge onward.

Alistair and Angel looked at each other, exchanging questioning glances.

“Please let me walk you,” Alistair asked. “It’s really late and very dark. I couldn’t handle it if something were to happen to you. Please?”

I’m not as fragile as they think. I’ve survived much worse places than the empty backroads of Portsmouth island.

“Ok, fine,” she sighed.

They said good-bye to Angel and then the others as they passed the fire pit. The girls were also concerned and Kismet once again had to assure them she was fine, just very drunk.

It wasn’t a lie. She staggered up the rocks toward the road, finding herself grateful after all to have Alistair’s elbow to steady herself. He hadn’t put his shirt on, his chest coated in drying mud and seawater. His shaggy blond hair stuck up in multiple directions.

The street was dark as promised. Sparsely placed street lights did little to illuminate their walk up the sloping hill toward the cabins. Heavy clouds blotting out the moon did not help either. The street was empty. Everyone seemed to be tucked inside for the night. Most cabins had only a light on or two while others were in complete darkness.

She could smell rain brewing.

“I’d love to have your powers for even a minute,” said Alistair. “Just to see what’s going on in your head. I can’t figure you out.”

“There’s nothing to figure out,” she muttered, twisting the ends of her sleeves in her hands as they walked.

Alistair laughed. “Kizzy, you have been an enigma since the day I met you.”

Much to Kismet’s appreciation, Alistair allowed them to walk in silence, and didn’t try to pry the answers out of her.

He’s probably the most genuine person I’ve ever met. There’s not a mean bone in his body. I failed him.

They made it to Nyx’s cabin and Alistair ushered her inside toward the pile of blankets on the couch. Despite her insistence, he tucked her in and fetched a glass of water.

Every act of kindness was another needle plunged under her skin.

“You good?” Alistair asked once she was settled to his liking. “I’m gonna hop in the shower and get all this mud off. Angel must have left some clothes here somewhere i can borrow. You need anything before I do?”

Kismet tugged the throw blanket up to her chin. Emotion and liquor making her eyelids grow heavier.

“Seriously Alice, I’m drunk not dying of the plague,” she muttered. “I’m fine, but thank you.”

When he ducked into the washroom, she was alone with her thoughts. The sound of the shower hardly served to drown them out. They spiraled, piled one on top of the other. For once, it was not the myriad of other voices she was trying to drown out, it was her own. She desperately needed her headphones, but couldn't find them.

Kismet got off the sofa to search for them. Staggering around in the darkened room, she fumbled around the blankets on the couch and through the clutter on the coffee table.

Where are they? Where are they? Come on, I really need to find them.

Frustration mounted as did the tears until the pressure became too much and she broke down in heaving sobs on the floor beside the sofa.

That's where Alister found her. She curled in a ball, hugging her knees tight to her chest. She looked up at him with eyes swimming with tears and liquor.

“What's wrong, Kismet?” He crouched down on the floor beside her, squeezing in between the couch and coffee table. “Please, will you tell me what's wrong? Something has been gnawing at you for weeks.”

“It's bad. So bad. You're gonna hate me, but I can’t keep it in any longer,” Kismet stammered through her tears.

“Hey, it’s ok, you can tell me, he assured her.

Kismet shuddered. “When I was at your parents' bonfire, I accidentally read your Mom's mind, and I saw something I really shouldn't have. I don't know what to do. I thought telling everyone would make it worse, but it seems keeping the secret isn't any better.”

“What is it?” Alistair frowned. “What did you see?”

“I want to tell you. I do. I wanted to tell you for a long time.” Kismet had stopped crying but was left trembling. “it's about Angel, so I think it's only right we wait for him to come back with Nyx and I'll tell you all together.”

“Whatever it is, I'm sure we can manage it.”

Kismet only shook her head. She appreciated the sentiment, but feared the fallout was going to be much more than anything else Alistair could be anticipating. Even with him right beside her, this was the loneliest she had felt since coming to the island.