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Before we begin, I just wanna highlight an incredible person: JediLovegood has a story on her page that's full of hand drawn polaroids of the Famoux members!! And they are GORGEOUS!!! I've legit made the photo of Till my phone background, I can't stop looking at it. So, Corianna, THANK YOU!!
We've got a few new character in here, so keep your eyes peeled... They could be YOU!
And remember, if you want to be a character, PLEASE not only comment your name when I ask you to, but be *engaged* with the story! I notice I get a lot of people commenting their names, but a lot of those people don't comment anything else past that.
If I don't feel like I know you based on your reactions and commentary, I won't be able to get a good feel for how I should write you! What if I made you Kaytee's best friend, and you actually hated Kaytee? I wouldn't know it unless you were commenting, "Ugh, shut up Kaytee" under all of her dialogue or something, lol. If you love a character, I'm gonna try to bring you closer to them! So please, stay engaged, you lovely future character!
Okay, with that being said, let's get into it:
emeray
Holding the golden note in between my two hands, I feel so dizzy, I swear I must be sleeping––lost in a dream of falling from the top of an eighty foot building, twirling and spinning all the way down. No rational thoughts, no chance to prepare for the impact.
I steady my gaze on the final few words:
We are here to free you. Soon.
Reality hits hard like concrete. DEFED could be meaning any number of potential things when they say they'd like to free me, but given the past few tragedies we've faced, their methods seem clear. Painfully clear.
"No," I state flatly. Or, attempt to state flatly—my voice shakes too much to qualify as still. "They don't mean that. They wouldn't... They wouldn't just say it outright."
I get up from the ground, pacing the expanse of my room. All the while I mutter to myself about how wrong I am in thinking my death is imminent, how there has to be a different meaning I'm just not getting yet. It does absolutely no help in calming my state of panic.
While talking to myself only heightens the alarm, I know I can't tell anybody yet. Maybe Chapter a little later. Maybe all the members, actually, in case one of them received the same thing. But when will I possibly get to do that, with everyone on different schedules? I don't think I've properly had a conversation with Kaytee or Till in over a month now.
When I swing my bedroom door open, hands shaking like vibrating plates against the knob, the first person I run into is perhaps the last I wanted to see.
