Masquerade ••• h.s

prelude

Walking into the town's only, and quite frankly broken down, McDonald's, Hadley Richie sat down at a booth after getting a hard look from one of few waiters.

The McDonald's was one of a handful of places in town where the feud could seem to end momentarily as people snacked on sugar filled sodas and calorie stacked cheeseburgers.

Hadley was waiting on her boyfriend, who, was quite frankly, undeserving of the beautiful girl's love.

But she gave it to him anyways.

The bell above the door jingled, and in walked Hadley's boyfriend, Derek. She waved him over, unsuspecting of recent events in the boy's seemingly unordinary life.

Derek smiled at her weakly, trembling as he walked over. Any girl looks at him once and assumed him an immediate nerd with glasses, braces, and a very scrawny body. Upon second glance, though few ever looked, there laid a quite handsome boy with baby blue eyes and tousled brown hair.

"Hey," she smiled, scooting over so the boy could sit next to her as per usual. Anybody else could be able to see tension that was there in the small, gang filled town the couple lived in, except for the couple themselves; brimming with innocence until now.

The boy pauses in front of her, makes a move to sit down, and pauses once more, glancing around the room feverishly.

"Hadley." He spoke slowly, as if unsure of himself. Hadley laughed, though it was easy to hear through the tremor in her laugh that she was scared.

"What's wrong? Fall off the bike again?" She joked, but it went unnoticed by the teen. His silence cut through the air, and he showed no sign of emotion. "Ah, I see," she said, "you're being angsty."

"Stop joking." He demanded, slamming a hand on the table, scaring Hadley. She felt herself pressing up against the booth, and looked towards the cashier, who's hand hovered over the phone, ready to call someone at a moments notice. If there was one rule in the gang filled town it was this: never let one of your own get hurt.

"Derek." Hadley lowered her voice, picking at the peeling red paint on the booth to distract herself from her friend's suddenly scary actions. "What's wrong? Is it your brother?"

The boy winced, but recovered seconds later.

"I can't stay long. I shouldn't even be here." Derek glanced around the room once more, now noticing the cashiers body language that resounded a message that was familiar to anyone in the town: don't make a move.

"Are you alright? Seriously you're scaring me," Hadley glanced around the room, noticing the fearful faces of some of the patrons in what was supposed to be a gang free room, "and other people too."

"Remember our conversation last night?" Derek asked, still hovering above the table, refusing to make eye contact with the girl before him.

Hadley recalled the strange phone call she thought nothing of until now. He sounded distant, which she figured was just him being tired, and he promised to meet her at the McDonald's the next day before abruptly hanging up.

"Yes," she answered slowly, unsure to where this was heading.

"I want you to think that conversation over and over again until we see each other again." Derek commanded, and the words settled in Hadley's mind, sending her into a state of shock. She reaches out to take his hand, trying to get him to make sense of himself, but he yanks his hand away before she can get out a word. "Promise me something, Hadley. Please."

She was scared. She was more than scared. She was terrified, and there was nothing she could do to stop his actions unless she went along with his game. "Sure."

"Don't trust anyone in this town, and I'm begging you, don't go anywhere you shouldn't," he begged, letting the odd demeanor fall for a second to reveal something far more desperate, the fear in his eyes masking hers.

Hadley opened her mouth and shut it seconds later. She stared down at the table, the bolts bent out at odd angles protruding out of the surface. The peeling red paint and the way it reminded her of anger, and Derek's brother, and the anger of the gang filled town. "I promise."

Too afraid to make eye contact with the distant person in front of her, she stares at his hand, and the tattoo she gave him- the replica of what he gave her- of half of a broken heart, making one whole. She reached out to touch it and succeeded this time, brushing her thumb over the inked skin.

Derek relaxed a little, staring down at the girl's head in front of him, and sighed, unaware the patrons were still watching them. He memorized the strands of her auburn hair, and the way it frizzed on rainy days, and the way the browns and light oranges authenticated her eyes. "And don't contact me."

When Hadley looked up once more, the boy with a broken heart was gone.