Chapter 18: (OLD) Chapter 12

Note: Happy Friday! I'm a few hours later than usual, but hey, better late than never!

PREVIOUSLY ON THE CLASSIX: Emeray and Chapter chatted about DEFED's threat. So basically, they could pull the engagement ring out at any time. Cartney and Emeray could probably convince Buchan and Norax that they really don't want to be engaged, but what if the ring shows up in public? Lots of explaining would have to be done. Imagine any celebrity couple encountering a ring in front of the paparazzi and then claiming they're not engaged. Also, DEFED hinted that they know about the new members coming up. So is one of these members going to be DEFED!?!?

emeray

Something I always wondered about, ever since I was little, was why we put so much effort into measuring things. Distance, height, time. I imagine it must've taken awfully long to gauge everything out––how the rest of the world should measure their existence. The circle trail adjacent to my old school, four times around, is what I was told to call one mile. The long, long ruler set up by the door of the nurse's office, she informed us, reached up to eight feet exactly. The lessons told me and my classmates to snap, to pause, and that's one second exactly. And if all else fails, just watch the clock, the teachers told us. It'll do the counting for you.

We never seem to consider the strangeness of this circumstance. It used to frustrate me. Who were these adults to tell me how tall I was? If I want to be eight foot eleven, then why can't I measure my feet and inches on my own? Perhaps it seems controlling, but it's all for good reason. Without ground rules, nobody would know how to communicate. My seconds would be longer than the next guy's. My years would be a snap in comparison to yours, especially nowadays with the dating contract. I guess sometimes we need to accept the way our moments are measured, just so we can assure there's some sort of cohesive rhyme and reason to the way we live.

Everything feels like a second, a blink. But I know better.

It's been three months since the Darkening.

It's been eight days since Norax left the Metropolix.

It's been one minute since she came back.

At least, one minute since I came home, peered into the kitchen, and found her stationed at the island, almost like she was waiting there for me.

Illuminated by the soft lights beneath the kitchen counters, her silhouette is utterly unmistakable. I make out her birdlike bone structure jutting out of her blazer, the crisp knee-length cut of a pencil skirt, the tantalizing platform of her sky-high heels. Uniformity, familiarity.

Just the sight makes my stomach drop.

Norax speaks clear. "Lumerpa? Did you bring somebody?"

I'm immediately thankful for Cartney's presence behind me. I'd brought him into the Metropolix to work out my calendar with Johnson. It's only a matter of time before Cartney has to start touring for his upcoming album, and Buchan has already composed a nice, long list of shows I should be attending that they want us to run by my people for any possible discord in our schedules.

He seems to understand the gravity of the situation, because he keeps quiet. Shifting slightly on his feet, the only noise that comes from him when we walk in is the squeak of his leather jacket.

"You're the first to come home today," she continues, distracted. My heart sinks lower––I'm not even a priority when I'm right in front of her. "The other members are still off doing their tasks for today. I didn't expect you to be bringing Cartney."

The two of us stand, silent and frozen. The rising and falling of my chest is the only part of me in visible motion. It makes her fidget, a clack against the marble.

"Lumerpa, I want to talk to you."

The words make me take a step backward, but it appears less as a step and more of a small stagger. My shoulders bump clumsily against Cartney's chest, and instead of flustering he steadies my imbalance.

"I've got you, friend," he whispers. Louder, he addresses Norax. "Fancy seeing you here, captain."

She raises her brow, a hint of worry in her face. "Why, I could say the same for you, Cartney. It's not everyday we find you in the Metropolix."

She probably didn't mean it to sound rude, but Cartney stiffens all the same, just like he does when he's in the same room as Race and Kaytee. "Ray is quite welcoming. If only I liked her better than the last one you gave me." His dark humor only adds to the weight hanging in the air between us. Just breathing feels like suffocation.

"Funny," she says. "Playing off of the rumors."

I furrow my brow. "Huh?"

Tentatively, Norax moves toward me, taking a stance in the doorframe to the kitchen like she's guarding her kingdom. Her proximity makes me dizzy––it's only been eight days, but it might as well have been a hundred years. I look up, and she's foreign, new again, just like the first time I met her. A part of me wishes she wouldn't always wear those heels, because even in my own shoes she's a tower, completely dwarfing my height like I imagine a god would dwarf believers of the old world before Delicatum.

The last thing I want to do is worship her as such.

As I too often have.

"Whatever plans you two have today, do you think you could you reschedule? I need to fill you in on some important information, Emeray." And then, like an afterthought, "I also want you to know that I am sorry for being gone." Less of an apology, more of a statement.

"It's fine," I say, looking down.

"It isn't fine. I want to make it up to you."

"There's no need."

"Lumerpa."

My cheeks burn, maybe with anger. I want her to stop speaking in that way she does, the way she did when she found me and made me feel like something special when I became Emeray Essence. It's a different kind of voice she carries for these occasions––a voice that tells you there's nothing wrong with the contradictions coming out of her mouth. In the back of my mind I remember Till's words––like I wasn't already good enough?

Norax beats on. "You know it isn't fine. There's no excuse for me not letting you know where I was, especially on your birthday."

"What were you doing?" I ask.

"There's been so much to get in order. I lost track of the days."

"But what were you doing?"

Norax bites her lip. "It's not really something I think we should be discussing right here. If you'd just––"

"Oh, please, I'm not a stranger." Cartney shakes my shoulder before stepping past me, advancing toward the kitchen. Like a rocket, Norax's arm sticks out, cutting him off before he can move any further. Their gazes meets at direct eye level––no need for him to do any looking up to her.

He narrows his eyes, saying something that immediately gives me the chills. "What are you guarding?"

"I only want to speak with Emeray today. You can come back later."

I can feel the shifting authority, like swords clanging together in a duel. "I'm basically an honorary Famoux member at this point. Ray tells me everything you guys are up to the moment we leave on our walks. Feel free to discuss your heart out."

"I'm well aware of your importance in our lives, but this is a private conversation. We have much to catch up on since I've been gone."

"Private?" Cartney coughs. "But Ray and I are all young and in love and probably gonna get married soon. In fact, we were so busy staring into each other's eyes for her entire birthday that we barely noticed your absence."

"Is that so?"

"He likes to joke," I say flatly. "We noticed."

She strains. "You don't mean that."

"Excuse me?"

"You two love each other. That's not part of his joke."

The pause that follows nearly puts me out of my body. She has to be kidding, right? A few days gone wouldn't make her forget all the kicking and screaming that's gone into this relationship. A few days gone wouldn't change the status quo. Snap, pause––that's still a second. The rulers in the offices haven't changed the size of a centimeter. Cartney and I, though able to tolerate each other, are not in love.

"Uh, yeah . . . of course," says Cartney. He gives her an incredulous look, quoting a line of his new song for my birthday. "Our love is stronger than what broke me down before. You don't write those lyrics for no reason at all, am I right?"

"That's right," she states. She drops her arm down to her side, her figure relaxing.

And Cartney takes full advantage of this moment.

Lunging toward the kitchen, he slips right past her before she has the time to grab ahold of him. He goes stumbling into the kitchen, gripping the edges of the island before he can come in contact  A chorus of gasps ensue, just beyond eyeshot, and his head whips toward the sound. I watch his mouth as drops, his face as it switches to shock.

"Who the hell are you guys?"

My eyes dart to Norax as she winces, putting a hand to her head. I can't hear my own thoughts over the dozen voices  clamoring to be heard just beyond the door frame.

"Norax," I say. "Those aren't . . ."

"I wanted to be able to explain when all the members came back."

"But––but we haven't even made our choices," I stammer.

"There wasn't any need for a choice anymore. I figured out the candidates that best fit what we're looking for."

"And you brought them now?"

"It's going to be crammed for a while, but not after relocation."

The weight in my head is pulsing. They're here. The other members. "Relocation?"

Norax puts a hand on my cheek, patting it twice before taking a deep breath. "Lumerpa, I'll explain everything. But before then, you have a few people to meet." Her voice drops low, so low I can barely hear her. "And these people need to believe everything we've told them."

Till's words come back to mind once again as Norax steps back from the door frame, gesturing to the kitchen with a showy, cheerful smile. I meet Cartney by his side, grabbing ahold of his hand. Somebody sighs affectionately just at the sight of it.

I meet their gazes one by one. Different eyes, different hair, different colors.The only thing they seem to share in common is the completely and utterly starstruck look that's painted across each of their faces. My new Famoux members.

But one of these, I register, is not like the others.

One of these new members was sent by DEFED.

Snap, pause––that's still a second. The rulers in the offices haven't changed the size of a centimeter.

And though this moment feels like an eternity, it has been one minute since the new Famoux members met Emeray Essence.

xxx

Woooooo. They are HERE. And I also don't have all of them planned. Keep commenting your name

so I can quickly make you a Famoux member.

I'm in my government class right now, and my teacher just had us write down which US presidential candidate we'd vote for. On that note, which Famoux character would you like to run for president/leader of whichever country you are from? Norax? (HAH.) I'd love to hear your thoughts on my fictional candidates.

Have a wonderful amazing Friday, Wattpad. Remember:

Sticks and Stones may break your bones, but haters make you famoux. Stay classy, stay classix.