The Burning of the Palace at Versailles (or, Butterfly) [REWRITING]

Chapter 16 - How It Begins

"Why did you go to the Bible study if you didn't want to be there?" Melody asked.

Key looked up from his penciled drawing. It was simple, just a classic yellow pencil on plain white printer paper. Melody wasn't sure what it was supposed to be. It looked like a dead tree, barren and gnarled, but faces covered it. The sight of screaming mouths made Melody shiver, and she looked away. Key seemed to consider the question as if it was some impressive riddle.

"I dunno," he said. "I guess because Cy was there. He's one of those Jesus types." He looked back at the paper and began shading in one of the higher branches on the tree.

The Bible study had finished an hour ago. Puzzle and Diana had stayed in the chapel with the priest. It seemed Puzzle had a theological question for the good mother. Colt had to be sent back to Jim to get her rosary. The rest were free to leave. Melody realized a little too late she had mindlessly eaten too many cookies, and since been wandering through the kitchen and the library, trying to keep her nausea at bay. They were in the library now, and every so often a few notes from the piano would play.

"Do you like drawing?" Key asked.

Melody shrugged. "Can't say I've ever been artistically inclined."

Key let out a quick, breathy laugh. "Me neither."

"You seem to be pretty good at it."

The boy shrugged, and Melody sighed. She sat down on the couch next to the table Key was sitting at and crossed her legs. The world seemed to be spinning around her. She uncrossed her legs. "You said that you had a person who made you crazy. Like how you thought it was Thomas for me."

"Are you going to ask who mine was?"

"Obviously."

Key grinned. "You know, one might think you're trying to know too much about my personal business."

"You read my journal. I'd call that invasion of privacy too."

Finally, Key looked up. His doe eyes were glittering and happy in the dim light. He wasn't so dissimilar to how Thomas had been when they first met: pretty, thoughtful, witty-- hell, maybe even caring. Melody wondered if Thomas regretted screwing her over. Melody wasn't even sure if she regretted hurting him, even if it was unintentional and she had warned him about her before they even started dating.

Nah. She didn't regret it. Thomas knew she was messed up. Screwing up was his own fault.

Key picked up the piece of paper and flipped it around to its blank side. He dropped the pencil. "Draw something," he said.

"Like what?"

"I dunno. Anything."

Melody huffed and threw herself onto the chair across from Key. She picked up the pencil and twirled it between her fingers

"Oh, come on," Key said. "There's no way I'm going to be able to tell you anything if you're staring at me the whole time. Eye contact makes me nervous."

"Eye contact makes everyone nervous." Melody rolled her eyes but looked down at the paper. First, she drew a line down the middle of the page. Key didn't seem impressed, though, so she continued doodling.

"If I tell you what happened to me, are you willing to write it in some cool, fictional way? Make it all sound more awesome than it actually was?"

Melody laughed. "That is terrible journalism. Yeah, sure."

"Fine. Keep drawing."