LOSING GAME ➳ dreamwastaken

𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐧

"Dad?" Reverie said.

Down below, the stands rumbled with mutters of confusion as everyone discussed this new and shocking news. Schlatt's pupils dilated then contracted, then he rounded on the trembling girl who was sat on the floor of the podium and focused his bloodshot eyes on her. His lips curled into a coy smile—one that sent shivers racing down Reverie's spine.

"Ah, hello Reverie," he said, undertones of bitterness hidden away in his slurred voice. "Where's your brother? Is he still around?"

"What are you doing here?" Reverie demanded, trying with all her might to steady her quavering voice.

"The election," Schlatt answered simply. "That's why you asked me here, right Wilbur?"

An odd expression unfolded on Wilbur's face as his eyes widened in shock but his forehead creased in bewilderment. "Rev, I thought you said your dad was dead."

Schlatt's eyebrows shot up and his distorted gaze danced between Reverie and Wilbur, who was still stood at the microphone, apparently unaware that every single word he spoke was being clearly projected across L'Manberg for everyone to hear.

"Dead?" Schlatt repeated gravely, a shout of dry laughter hanging from his words. "That's what you told everyone, huh?"

Reverie gulped harshly, but the lump that had formed in her throat did not falter. "It's better than the truth," she mumbled bitterly.

Schlatt fumbled with the torn cuffs of his waistcoat and staggered. Tommy jolted forwards to catch him but the man managed to retain his balance.

"And what's that, Beverly?"

"Reverie," she corrected sharply.

"What's the truth, Reverie?" Schlatt said. "Why don't you share it with all of us?"

With a sudden surge of anger, Reverie jumped to her feet. Tears stung her eyes as she balled her hands into fists and glared at the man that she had once called her father. So many years had passed since Reverie and Tubbo had seen their father and they had since learned to get by on their own without the need for a parental figure. In fact, Reverie had blocked the memories of Schlatt that she had out of her head completely—he rarely ever crossed her mind. Reverie could not even recall the last time she thought of her father.

But now, after all these years, her father was before her once more and all of Reverie's emotions that she had pushed aside or bottled away—her anger, her desperation, the feeling of despair that the absence of her father left behind came pouring out. She felt overwhelmed with raw emotions that she never thought she would have to feel again.

"Alright, I'll tell the truth," she spat, biting back tears of fury. "You're a deadbeat. You left—after Mum died you left Tubbo and me without saying a word."

Schlatt pondered Reverie's words for a few short moments. His lips furled and, once more, he fondled with the sleeves of his waistcoat.

"No, I don't think that's what happened," Schlatt hummed nonchalantly.

Blood pounded in Reverie's ears. Subconsciously, she dug her nails into her palms as a manner of releasing her anger. Her nails pierced her skin, leaving crescent moon shaped cuts on her smooth palms. Words and shouts of bitterness rose to her throat and came to rest on the tip of her tongue, but as she opened her mouth, ready to convey her feelings of rage to all of L'Manberg, Schlatt turned away from her and stepped up to the microphone.

"What's this?" he spoke into the microphone. "What am I doing?"

Wilbur and Tommy exchanged nervous glances.