Unravel; II

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Claire thought today would be a nice day, starting with her waking up, finding nothing conspicuous on social media, apologizing to Roxanne, and perhaps having Roxanne forgive her and hug things out and continue the day normally.

Sadly, Claire thought wrong.

"Do you know what this means, Claire?"

Sitting limply on the edge of her bed, with Roxanne standing in front of her, holding out her phone for Claire to see, Claire felt as though she, of all people, knew what this meant.

But she didn't say anything, partly because she didn't want to raise suspicion, but mostly because she was still shell-shocked and exhausted from having to use all of her energy to heal herself.

It wasn't a fun experience, having to eat scrambled eggs meant for three people. But it was either that or having to actually survive a day or two with a stab wound, and Claire did not want to deal with that drama again.

And even then, her shoulder still throbbed and ached and she really shouldn't be moving, lest she hurt herself.

She'd already hurt herself enough changing out of her clothing into her regular turtleneck last night.

Roxanne seemed to think her silence was one of disbelief.

Outside, the city buzzed with life. Cars honked, people talked. It was on the late afternoon. Claire had woken up an hour or so ago. She normally was an early bird. Roxanne didn't seem to notice that she'd yet made her bed.

"Look. Just- just look."

She gestured Claire to scoot aside, make room. The grey sheet of the bed rustled and wrinkled. Claire bit her tongue to hold herself from making any pained sounds as she moved. Roxanne leaned to her, her forearm inches from touching Claire's shoulder, as she held her phone for both of them to see.

"This is the blog I posted, right? And look at the comments." She pointed to the comments. Claire didn't read them. She knew she didn't need to. Roxanne would explain the comments for her in three, two... "People... People actually listened to me, Claire. They actually- fuck, Claire. They didn't brush me off like I thought they would."

Roxanne shut her phone off and tossed it carelessly onto the bed, right next to her pillow. She shifted until she was facing Claire, legs crossed. Roxanne's knees touched Claire's thigh.

Claire's jaw loosened, upon realizing that Roxanne was still wearing last night's clothing. Did she... did she not sleep at all? Claire could picture it; Roxanne lying on her stomach, laptop opened and blasting the maximum brightness, typing and scrolling over and over again, occasionally reading blogs or watching YouTube videos to pass the time.

Claire did not like the picture. Not at all.

"You were right, Claire." She had this gentle look on her face. It made Claire want to scream. "I'm still hella mad at you, but you were right, alongside Grover, Bella..." She laughed. "Even Rick's been telling me to do this."

Roxanne looked outside at the window, her eyes half-opened and painted with bags. Yet she looked more radiant, more alive than Claire had ever seen. Maybe it had to do with the morning yellow light, beaming at them soothingly. But Claire doubted it.

Roxanne was happy. Happier than she had ever been for a long time.

And all it took was to ruin everything Claire had built.

Claire swallowed when she realized how tightly her hands were clenched into fists. After unclenching them, her fingers still spasm in a need to grasp, hold, crush.

Roxanne stood up, walked to the window. Claire liked windows, liked looking out from it, enjoying the view, even if it wasn't all that spectacular. It was why Roxanne let her have this room, despite it being bigger. Claire had refused, at first, but Roxanne had insisted, saying that, "Dude, I'm a shut-in! Windows are the last thing I need!"

It was a small gesture of kindness, masked by a poor layer of indifference.

It was a gesture Claire would never forget.

Roxanne placed her hands on the wooden border, thin and maintained, free from dust, poking her head out. Claire saw nothing but buildings and trees and clouds. She wondered what Roxanne sees.

Roxanne looked so small, so incapable of doing anything, a nuisance, at best.

But today gave Claire a slap to the face for thinking that, for judging a book by its cover.

Roxanne did look like a nuisance.

But she so, so wasn't.

"People are speaking up. They're giving their own thoughts, their theories of what this means, who Angel is. And- holy shit, most of them are good, too!"

Claire's chest twisted. It didn't hurt, but it didn't feel good either. It was weird hearing Roxanne call her by another name. It was weird knowing Roxanne think of her as another person.

Claire had thought she didn't have to deal with it anymore, Roxanne thinking of her as a saint, a guardian, a hero. Roxanne was wrong to think that. Claire had thought that she'd gotten her point across last night.

Instead, she now must pretend as though she was fine with everything, fine with Roxanne ruining everything even when she'd told her, countless of times even as a monster, to keep her head low and do what everyone was doing, what everyone had been doing for as long as Crystal city had existed.

Pretend, pretend, pretend. Even if she was bad at it. It was the right thing to do. It was what they'd told her to do.

"People are... People are choosing not to be blind anymore." Roxanne barked another laugh. Claire wondered if she was going through a type of light hysteria, if there was even such a condition. "God fucking dammit, that is hella cliche."

Roxanne stood there, admiring what had always been a plain, bland view of the city. Claire looked at Roxanne, the girl who had torn her - their - world apart without realizing it.

Her world. Their world. The world Claire had been working so hard to build. Her playground. The one thing keeping her sane.

Roxanne had poked and prodded and ruined it, ruined everything. And she'd wanted to do it. And she was happy that she'd done it.

The light of the afternoon were relentless, and shone brightly, without a care in the world. Roxanne stood and basked in the light, while Claire watched from behind, covered by Roxanne's shadow, not at all experiencing what must've been a wonderful, warm, white light.

Why?

It angered Claire more, the thought that Roxanne didn't know what she's doing.

Roxanne's phone dinged, and the world resumed again.

Roxanne's face dropped when seeing the text message. It prompted Claire to stand up, freeze momentarily when a pain shoots through her shoulder, and walk to her side, looking at the screen.

You're dead, the anonymous message said.

Claire's chest heavied because this was a death threat, it hadn't even been six hours and the death threats were already here. This was bad. This was f-ed up. Someone was targeting Roxanne. It hadn't even been hours. Usually, it'd take hours, days, even. Claire would know.

If Claire was a more impolite person, she would've listed off all the cuss words in the unholy book.

Roxanne turned the phone off. She pocketed it and smiled an easy-going smile that looked uncaring and cruel to Claire.

"Heh. As if that'll scare me."

"Are you serious?!" Claire only half-realized it was she who'd shouted.

Roxanne didn't look surprised. In fact, with the way she adjusted her glasses and tilted her head to the side, Claire realized that she'd been expecting that outburst. "I know you're worried-"

"Worried?!"

Roxanne pursed her lips and she tilted her chin down to glare at Claire.

Claire's anger was like a flame, and upon seeing that intense gaze, it dimmed down.

Outside, cars passed by and people murmured and trees rustled. It was the sound of the world.

If the window glass had been opened, the autumn wind would've greeted them with a breeze.

As it was, Claire felt as though she was frozen in time and place, along with her room, and she had no other choice but to listen to Roxanne as she said, "Claire. You flaked out on me last night. The night I needed you most. I could've died."

Claire hated it, how casually Roxanne uttered those words, with only a hint of irritation, as though she was talking about the buss she'd missed or the writing that didn't get published.

Claire hated it, how the stability had been crashed and wiped away, and how she was now venturing in the unknown.

Claire hated it, how Roxanne thought she was doing a good deed.

Claire hated it, how Roxanne might actually be doing a good deed, and how that good deed was costing her something, because unlike Roxanne, Claire wasn't a good person.

Claire hated it, how Roxanne was changing things for the better, and what it meant for her.

Claire hated it, how much she hated a lot of things.

"Rox..."

Claire hated it, how she had no idea what to say, how that one name, one nickname only she could say was the only thing she'd said all morning.

"I wanna go out and celebrate. I'm still mad at you, but, like, you're my bestie. I'll forgive you, just... not now. Not after what I've done."

Claire wanted to laugh and scream and cry and shake Roxanne's shoulders until this nightmare melted away.

She kept fidgeting, playing with her chipped nails. Roxanne looked at her for one, two, five seconds, longer than what was appropriate. Claire hugged herself and looked away, hoping Roxanne wouldn't be able to read her well if she couldn't see Claire's face.

The room was deathly still.

And Roxanne left Claire in her immaculate, small room, not even bothering to close the door.

Claire heard the sound of the shower. It was faint, but she heard it anyway.

Claire realized that she was alone in her own room.

Her body shook. The anger she'd been bottling up because she couldn't let Roxanne know fizzled into life.

But it was okay, everything was going to be okay, she had no reason to be angry. The Watchers would fix everything. They always did. It was their job. They'd been fixing her mistakes before, countless of times. Surely, they would be able to fix this one, no matter how big and terrifying it was.

There was a buzzing sound. Claire gritted her teeth and briefly entertained the thought of snapping whatever caused that buzzing sound in half. But she knew that wasn't what she wanted, and so she picked up her phone and opened it.

It was a new message from an unknown number.

What have you done, it read.

Claire stared at it, feverish.

Not a minute later, a new message was sent from that same number.

I risked everything. All for you to fix this nuisance. Instead you let her ruin everything.

Her legs were suddenly weak. She'd rested plenty last night, yet she felt as though she was insomniac in a manic episode with how her body twitched and ached to shut down.

The small of her back tingled. Her wings, they ached to be released so she could fly. Fly away from this nightmare.

A buzz.

You know what this fucking means, right?

Another buzz, shortly after.

They all saw you in that video. They'll know it was her. They always know.

Claire dropped her phone as though it burned. No matter how much she wanted to tear her eyes away from the screen, they simply wouldn't obey, glued to it as though they'd been put under a spell.

Do you know what they do to people like her, right?

Of course you fucking know, you help them deal with this shit.

They're going to find her.

They're going to fucking find her because they're not idiots.

And then they're going to-

Claire didn't read the message until the end. She didn't want to. That was why she threw her phone away to the wall. The sound of it hitting the wall reminded her of a gunshot, only fainter.

Even with her phone broken, those words kept repeating, and then they added up, and images began to fill Claire's head, images including Roxanne and The Watchers surrounding her, taking her away to deal with her.

Claire's hand went up to her lips and she bit it, hard. She had to. Or else she'd scream a scream that wouldn't sound pretty. Her hand might've bled. Or it might've not. Who cared? Certainly not Claire.

She pulled her hand away only to let it claw at the wooden floor. She was surprised when it didn't break under her touch, only to realize that she wasn't her other self.

...

If you're wondering what the "Unravel" and "Illusion" stuff is, basically... see, I don't write and edit each individual chapter right before uploading. And I don't write the whole story at once, too.

Instead, I break the story into parts, based on the important plot points that will change the story in a significant way. It's easy for me because I get to focus on how each chapter all ties together and if some scenes need to be cut. Seeing the bigger picture, you know.

I noticed recently that naming my chapters with a simple "Chapter *insert number*" feels... flat. And boring. So I decided, hey, why not name each part of the story with its own title, because I'm too lazy to think of clever titles and too much of a perfectionist to name it with just any title.

... I know this is needlessly complicated but I want you all to know how proud I am of the way I name each part and how much I love the way it looks.

Cheers~

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