Chapter 17: Silver Scream

Bwoop. Bwoop.

Today, the bell was supposed to signify more than the last period of the day. It should have been a call to arms. A countdown to the millennial monsters’ inaugural television address. An invitation to an after-party in the shed to celebrate their first sanctioned outing since the 1930s. But it might as well have been “Taps”, the solemn bugle composition played at military funerals, that you were hearing. Because your dreams were dead.

Normies would never know how hard Claude Wolf was working for a sports scholarship. They’d never see Deuce’s impressive 381-piece sunglasses collection or hear about Lagoona’s hope of becoming a pro surfer. They’d never cry with Clawdeen while she relived the terror of being sprayed red by PETA activists.

Never identify with Jackson’s embarrassing battle with sweat and music or sympathize with D.J.’s lack of control over his life. Draculaura’s refusal to smile would continue to fuel her reputation as shy, and Ghoulia’s zombie stare would always be mistaken for stupidity.

Heath would have to stay indoors during allergy season. Poor Billy would never be able to date a girl who didn’t want to be accused of talking to herself. Frankie would remain hidden under the Spackle of pore-clogging makeup and yurtlike garments if she wanted to go to a human place.

Even though their faces would have been blurred, and the movie would not have solved all their problems, it would have been a first step, one they were finally willing to take together. One that hadn’t been taken in eighty years. One that had gone nowhere. Sure, you could try again. But you were fresh out of ideas. Besides, who would trust you now? Everything you touched turned to mold.

It was obvious by the unusual silence that the others heard “Taps” too. Clawdeen, Lagoona, and Draculaura were the only monsters who didn’t seem affected by the lost cause. How could they be, when they were about to be picked up by a shiny black limo with a window sign that said TEEN MORGUE? Holding hands, they ran through the halls with the subtlety of an old clunker trailing cans and a JUST MARRIED sign down an asphalt road.

But instead of scratch marks on pavement, they left behind a sickly sweet trail of fruity lotion, floral perfume, and friends moving on.

Suddenly, Frankie appeared at your locker, panting.

Frankie: You’re not going to believe it!

Her green cheeks were flushed, her eyes wide, her black and white hair a wild mess. Her beauty was undeniable, and she didn’t have to wear a stitch of makeup.

Y/N: What happened?

Frankie: So, I was bored in Mr. Hackington's class and was watching TV and saw a promo for ‘The Ghoul Next Door.’ Channel 58 is airing it!

You began walking toward the exit. Frankie ran alongside you like a puppy.

Y/N: It must be a mistake. I’m sure someone would have called us

Frankie: It’s not a mistake. I called the station. They’re airing it!

Y/N: Are you sure?

Frankie nodded.

VOLTAGE!

Y/N: What made him change his mind about blurring everyone’s face?

Frankie: Maybe he felt guilty.

Y/N: But I thought they wanted to show everyone watching the broadcast in the studio.

Frankie: Just call him.

You tried Ross four times, your freshly black-polished fingers dialing the number with uncontainable pep. But each time your call went straight to voice mail.

Y/N: Oh, well.

You were too excited to be discouraged.

Y/N: Let’s have a screening party. Can you guys get everyone to the shed by five thirty? I’ll set up and order some pizza.

You parted ways with renewed purpose. Frankie lifted her matronly, floor-dusting peasant skirt as she hurried down the school steps to spread the shocking good news.

-------------

In a little over an hour, you had transformed your monster museum into a cushy screening room. You'd hung a flat-screen TV, created four rows of mismatched seating, and set up a table stacked with pizza boxes, sodas, and bowls of candy. You left the doors open to keep Jackson from overheating, you had a fire extinguisher standing by for Heath, marked three of the Domino’s boxes MEAT LOVER’S for the Wolfs, and even had a space heater on hand in case Draculaura stopped by after the photo shoot. The vase of green tulips was for Frankie.

The room quickly filled with people buzzing about the twist of fate. The qualifiers were gone. The lines had been blurred. You were no longer separate from them. You were just Y/N. It was a good sign. If this group could come around, anyone could.

Y/N: Here we go.

You began cranking up the volume.

The chewing and the chatter stopped. Everyone settled into chairs with squirmy anticipation. You stood by the screen, unable to contain your excitement. It reminded Frankie of herself not too long ago, standing with her nose practically pressed against the TV. The unpredictability of life made her smile. One minute her head was coming off, and the next her heart was on her sleeve. Frankie Stein was finally living!

Everyone cheered when Ross appeared on the screen. He was standing in front of the Monster High letter board. His boyish features were the perfect complement to a story about judgments based on looks. With his smooth skin, wide brown eyes, and dimple-studded smile, he seemed more likely to scoop ice cream than the news.

Deuce: Should he be showing our school?

No one answered. They were waiting breathlessly to see where this was going. Ghoulia nervously pushed her glasses up her nose.

Ross: It’s Spotlight on Oregon week here on Channel 58, and our slogan, “We're never late on 58,” has never been more, well, true.

He snickered.

Ross: Two weeks ago, I received a red-hot tip that there were monster, yes, monsters, teaming up with humans, working side by side. It’s everyone’s worst nightmare come true…or is it?

Claude: Did he just say ‘nightmare’?

All: Shhh!

Ross: What you’re about to see are interviews I was able to gather from these monsters. Some will have you laughing. Some will have you crying. But all of them will tell you everything you need to know about ‘The Ghoul Next Door.’

The show’s title, which bled red, spun onto the screen and throbbed to the theme music from the movie Psycho.

Y/N: What happened to my graphics?

Puuuurp.

Heath: Sorry! That sausage pizza was super spicy.

Suddenly, the shed felt more like a sauna. But no one seemed to notice, because Lilith had appeared on the screen. Wearing a frilly white dress and too much blush, she was seated in what looked like a church pew. Everyone gasped.

Y/N: What’s she doing there?!

Claud leaned over and whispered.

Claud: What’s happening?

Frankie shrugged.

The camera pushed in tight on Lilith’s freckly face as she began to speak.

Lilith: Hi. I’m Lilith Van Hellscream. My fellow Monster Hunter, Y/N Van Helsing, made the following film, but it was made under duress. The creatures you are about to see have possessed him. They have turned him into their propaganda zombie, forcing him to shoot these scenes to gain your trust. Once they have it, they’ll steal your souls and suck your minds. But this is not a time for panic. It’s a time for action. Stop them before they stop you. And, Y/N, if you’re watching, I love you. You can come back now. I’ll keep you safe.

How did this happen? Why did it happen? Who let it happen?

The show began immediately with an unblurred interview with Jackson.

You gasped.

Jackson: Y/N, what are they doing?!

Y/N: I have no idea!

Claude: We were tricked!

Claude howled, whipping a slice of meat lover’s pizza at the TV screen. It stuck and slid, landing with a thonk on the floor.

Holt: There’s a geek living inside of me! Why didn’t my mother tell me? Why didn’t any of you tell me?

He pushed through the cramped rows of chairs and ran out of the shed.

Deuce: D.J., wait!

But it was too late. He was gone.

Heath: My bad.

Billy: D.J. is right. We should get outta here!

Everyone immediately began to rush around in a panic, trying to get out of the shed and home before the humans could find them.

Y/N: Omigod, how do we stop this?

Frankie: I have no idea.

Her cell rang. She answered on speaker, to avoid shorting the phone with her spraying bolts.

Clawdeen: Is this fur real?!

Frankie opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

Clawdeen: Cleo must have known about this. She’s been BFFs with that Lilith girl for the last two weeks. She had to be involved.

Draculaura: Why would she do this to us?

Lagoona: What are you so worried about? At least no one can see your face.

Frankie’s insides churned.

Frankie: Are you at the shoot?

Clawdeen: In the limo. We were on our way to the shoot, but we saw the whole thing on the TV in the car. I don’t want to see Cleo or another camera for the rest of my life! We’re turning around and coming home. That is, if our driver doesn’t kill us first. He keeps checking his rearview mirror and asking why he can’t see Draculaura. He thinks we’re playing monster mind tricks on him. I swear he’s driving at least a hundred and forty right now. We were crazy to trust Cleo. I hope a camel takes a steaming hot… SLOW DOWN! We’re not going to hurt you, okay? Frankie, you should watch out for Y/N. He probably masterminded this whole thing with Lilith. She seems to know him.

Draculaura: What? No way! Y/N saved us, remember?

Lagoona: This isn't his fault, right?

Clawdeen: He's probably dating this hussie!

You immediately yelled into the phone.

Y/N: That is so not true! She's a psycho who thinks I'm just like her father!

Clawdeen: Oh, really? Because we were doing fine until you showed up.

Y/N: Clawdeen, I would never....

Clawdeen: Don’t listen to him, Frankie. Just get out of there as fast as you can. We’ll be home soon. Unless this maniac kills us. I said SLOW DOWN!

The line went dead.

Frankie didn’t know where to turn. Was Clawdeen onto something? Her theory did made sense. You and Lilith seemed to know each other. You were a budding monster hunter looking for a break…and you stumble on the hunt of the century. You and Lilith mastermind a plan.....send you to work from the inside…to build their trust and win their hearts. This shed was a set piece.....the posters of Grandpa Stein were props…a complex scheme with a single goal in mind…to hunt....

Frankie: How could you do this to us?

Y/N: Seriously, Frankie, I have no idea what you’re talking about.

Your weak response didn’t deserve another minute of Frankie’s attention. You were nothing more than a pretty face that had been used (like the rest of them) to further your and Lilith’s quest for immortality. Ironically, immortality was something so many monsters came by naturally. But you had to go for it the normie way...by selling their souls for fame.

Frankie: You lied to me!

But her words got lost in the barrage of insults, threats, and finger foods being hurled at you. Still, she kept right on screaming. You just stood by the TV, motionless, silently accepting your flogging.

En masse, the monsters bolted from the shed and fanned out into the street in a complete free-for-all. All sense of unity was gone. They were running for their lives once again. Frankie didn’t know whether to chase after them, topple you to the ground, or call her parents and urge them to start packing.

So she ran.

She ran and ran and ran with no destination in mind. Sparking and sobbing her way down Baker Street, Frankie couldn’t help thinking that maybe Cleo had been right. Maybe Viktor should take her apart.

Because if he didn’t, someone else would.

You just stood there, your entire world destroyed by something you didn't even do. The only one left was Deuce, who looked at you from behind his glass with eyes of sympathy.

Deuce: Dude, what happened?

You just shook your head, taking a seat on the now messy floor. Deuce took a second, but he walked over and sat next to you. What just happened?

Deuce: Who was that Lilith chick? How does she know you?

You lowered your head.

Y/N: Lilith Van Hellscream. Her uncle is a Monster Hunter, just like mine. The only difference is, me and my uncle hunted on behalf of the Monster Committe. Monsters that are legitimately dangerous to everyone. The Hellscreams hunt monsters, regardless of their status.

You sighed as you lifted your head to look at Deuce.

Y/N: Since we were kids, her uncle has been trying to get me to be her fiancé. I hate her. Like, I hate her. She's pure evil and I....I warned Cleo not to get involved with her!

You kicked a nearby VHS tape that had fallen from the table. Deuce took the information you had just dropped on him and took a breath. Cleo had a hand in this, and you were the one getting blamed.

Deuce: That's it. Come on.

Deuce stood up and you looked at him confused.

Deuce: We're going to go find Cleo.

------------------

Seated on a foldout throne made of black canvas and wood, Cleo gazed out of the white holding tent, feeling every part the Egyptian queen. Frantic worker bees buzzed all around her, running wires, cleaning camera lenses, and attempting to roll wardrobe racks through the sand.

Like the regal women who had come before her, she gazed out at the golden dunes, marveling at the amber-scented breeze and how it shaped and shifted the terrain with the delicate strokes of an artist’s brush. It was as if Ra had commissioned the wind to create beauty just for her.

In the old days, moments like this would have been preserved on dusty walls, portrayed by crude drawings of vultures, disembodied legs, and zigzags. Thankfully, times had changed. As soon as her friends arrived, Cleo would be photographed by Kolin VanVerbeentengarden, lit by Tumas, and featured in Teen Morgue. If only the magazine could find its way to the afterlife. Aunt Nefertiti would be blown away.

After three hours of wardrobe and jewelry fittings, two hours of hair and makeup, a luxurious Dead Sea salt foot scrub, and a mani-pedi, Cleo was ready for her close-up. She was also ready for her medium shot, her sultry shot, her action shot, her regal shot, her I’m-too-sexy-for-this-camel shot, and her shot at making a name for herself in the highly competitive world of jewelry design.

Her sketches and samples were locked away in the safe of Manu’s Bentley, patiently waiting for their turn in the spotlight. And they would get it, as soon as she had impressed the editors with her professionalism and her well-rehearsed repertoire of poses.

An emaciated intern pulled up to the holding tent in an ATV.

Intern: Any word yet?

Her hair was tied back with a Pucci scarf and reinforced with a pair of white-framed Guccis. A sheer lime-green tank billowed over her pore-clogging skinny jeans.

Um, who is the model here?

Intern: Jaydra doesn’t want to wait any longer. We’re losing light.

Where are they?

Cleo lowered her head and checked her phone again. She had service and plenty of battery left. But no new text messages. The beads on her gold headdress clinked together for what was bound to be the last time if Clawdeen, Lagoona, and Dragulaura didn’t show up.

Cleo: They should have been here two hours ago. I don’t understand. What if there was an accident?

Intern: Then you have three minutes to scrape them off the roadway, or this shoot is canceled.

The intern slammed her YSL cork wedge on the gas and rumbling off.

Cleo could send another message, but what was the point? She had already sent eleven, in varying tones, and had yet to get a single response. Normally Cleo might have wondered if her friends were mad. But not today. They had texted all through last period, counting down the seconds until they could join her on the set.

Cleo checked the Saran that had been wrapped around her feet to preserve her pedi. Then she heel-waddled toward her bald savior. She choked back the tears that would send her back to the makeup trailer.

Cleo: Manu. Have you found them yet?

He stood at the back of the tent with four officers who had been charged with guarding the jewels. Manu checked three cell phones at once. He lifted his dark eyes and grinned.

Manu: They are pulling up now.

Cleo: Thank Geb!

Cleo held out her arms in a virtual hug, avoiding contact for fear of ruffling her feather bustier.

Manu: Thank Geb is right.

Jaydra: Gather!

She was the feared accessories editor. She jumped off the back of the intern’s ATV and gathered her A-team. Her short bleached hair, yogurt-white skin, and gaudy cocktail ring on every finger gave Cleo some much-needed solace. The jewelry biz obviously wasn’t as competitive as she had thought.

Jaydra: The boys are here, and they’re gorgeous! They just need a quick touch-up and wardrobe. Anything we don’t get, we’ll fix in post. Let’s move! The sky is falling. Darkness is upon us.

Did....did she say "the boys"? Where were the girls?

Cleo happened to look up just in time to see you heading her way, looking quite displeased.

Cleo: What are you doing here?

She looked past her shoulder, hoping to see the others pulling up the rear. But all she saw was her boyfriend.

Cleo: Where are the girls?

Y/N: Did you really expect them to show up after what you did?

Your narrow eyes were squinty and accusatory.

Cleo: ’Scuse me? I was told they were here.

Y/N: You were told wrong.

You lifted your jacket was ready to fall off and draped it back over your shoulder.

Cleo: Will you please tell me what’s happening?

Deuce: You have some serious explaining to do.

Cleo: What are you two on about? And get out of those! You're stretching them!

Y/N: We're trying to find out why you intentionally set out to destroy your friends! I would expect it from Lilith, but you? Do you have any idea what you’ve done? Everyone is.....

Intern: Wow, Jaydra was right.

You all looked over to see a pin-thin guy wearing red skinny jeans, a white tank top with an iron-on of King Tut, and three muslin scarves.

Joffree: I’m Joffree. One name. And you boys are gorgeous. You must be from LA. Both size two, right?

Deuce: I’m a zero on the bottom and a large on top.

Deuce winked.

Joffree: Let me pull some things. Be back faster than you can say Snuffleupagus.

Cleo: It’s sarcophagus.

Cleo corrected him for what felt like the billionth time.

Joffree: Omigod, men-tahl blahk.

He sang the entire time he scampered away.

Cleo: Wait, did you two come here to model?

Y/N: We didn’t! We came to get the truth! Looking utterly fabulous is just a byproduct!

Cleo: Learn the truth about what?!

Everything around her was moving so quickly. Buzzing assistants. Missing friends. Gorgeous normies. False accusations.

Cleo: I swear to Geb, I have no clue what you’re talking about.

Y/N: ‘The Ghoul Next Door’? The unblurred interviews? Don’t act like you don’t know.

Cleo: I’m not acting!

She was in desperate need of more gloss.

Deuce: They aired! The unblurred interviews aired.

Cleo: Wait—what?

She stood completely still.

Cleo: How is that possible? I was right there when.....

Y/N: Aha!

You clapped once.

Y/N: So you do know something.

Cleo: I never wanted that stupid show to air even when the faces were blurred. I knew it was dangerous. So why would I want it shown unblurred?

Cleo rubbed her throbbing temples. Her mind was playing catch-up. Still trying to figure out why her friends hadn’t shown. Wondering how on earth such a catastrophe could have happened. Her friends would all be exposed!

The intern pulled up on her ATV, cupped her hands over her mouth, and yelled.

Intern: Joffree! Jaydra needs the new guys dressed in dresses and on the camels eight minutes ago.

Joffree: Then someone should have told me that nine minutes ago! All right, New Boys, back here with me.

Y/N: We didn’t come here to model.

Cleo: Yes, you did.

Cleo begged in a whisper.

Cleo: Please, just do it. Please. I’ll tell you everything I know. Swearsies on Ra.

She lifted her face to the sinking sun.

Cleo: We have to get through this...it won’t take long. I’ll even float you some samples from my new jewelry line the minute it gets off the ground. I'm sure you can sell it for money to buy.....whatever it is you buy.

You crossed your arms and narrowed your eyes at her. Honestly, you could be throwing her through the set right now, but you weren't. Out of respect for Deuce.

Y/N: You promise?

Cleo: Definitely. Are you more a tigereye kind of guy or straight-up gold?

Y/N: No! Do you promise to tell me what you know about the TV show?

Cleo: On all nine lives of all my cats.

You took a deep, deep breath.

While you and Deuce were changing, Cleo tried to piece everything together. The show airing…unblurred…but how? She couldn’t imagine you doing it behind Frankie’s back. You seemed too genuine for something like that. Even if he had dated Lilith, which Cleo still found hard to believe. What did someone like you ever see in....omigoddess! Lilith!

You emerged first. Wearing the typical black wig with bangs, you looked like Halloween Cleo, minus the sass. The gown, a sleeveless deep V made from layers of airy white silk and gold Lurex thread, luffed like a ship’s sails in the early-evening breeze. Your F/C eyes were heavily lined in turquoise kohl and adorned with gold false lashes. Even without the jewels, which would be fitted at the very last minute for security purposes, you defined Cairo-couture-meets-Babylon-babe.

Cleo gave a half grin.

Cleo: Hey. You look good.

Y/N: I can end you.

Cleo kept her remaining remarks to herself.

Deuce: Marc Antony, Marc Antony, wherefore art thou, Marc Antony?

Deuce danced around the tent with a hand on his forlorn heart. His wig was the same as yours, but his dress was gold, his kohl was black, and his fake lashes were dark jade. Jaydra was right: you both were undeniably gorgeous. But Cleo was too grateful to be jealous. Besides, her hair was real! And that counted for something.

Intern: Follow me.

The intern hurried you through the tent and past the admiring eyes of the crew members. Even without the stares, Cleo knew this trio was Vogue-worthy.

Y/N: You’d better tell me what you know, ’cause I’d have no problem taking off this wig and going home.

Cleo: Fine.

Clwo sighed then came clean about her plan to erase the movie. Which, now that she was at the shoot, seemed insane. It was hard to believe she had almost done something that despicable just to be there, with a pack of overcaffeinated, underfed normies who had spent all day referring to her as “the Egyptian.”

Y/N: So you’re saying you didn’t do anything?

Cleo: I didn’t have to. The show was canceled.

Deuce: So how...

Cleo: Lilith. She must have hacked into Y/N’s computer after I left.

Y/N: I told you not to trust her!

Cleo: I didn’t. But I needed her.

You nodded slowly, identifying with Cleo, not judging her.

Y/N: So, what do we do now?

Cleo: I dunno. Smile?

Then, you stepped onto the set.

Deuce: Whoa. I feel like I’m in one of those beach-inside-a-bottle things they sell at airport gift shops.

Cleo giggled. Deuce was right. The sand had been dyed pink, yellow, and orange, and it was piled higher on the left than on the right, as if someone one was pouring it. Three camels sat at the lower end, legs tucked beneath them, chewing slowly and sighing.

???: Unbelievable. That’s exactly what I was going for.

You turned around....then looked up at the muscular man wearing a black tank top, camo cargoes, and a blond ponytail.

Kolin: I’m Kolin VanVerbeentengarden.

He extended a tanned hand to Deuce.

Kolin: But most people just call me VanVerbeentengarden.

Deuce: Deuce. But most people just call me awesome.

Cleo giggled. You just wanted this to end already.

Kolin: I’m going to add the bottle and the cork during postproduction. The concept is that you three are ancient Egyptian queens who washed ashore in this bottle and....

Deuce: And we have come to present-day America on a mission to share these gems with today’s modern teenager?

Kolin: Precisely!

Deuce: Yeah. I can totally see that.

Kolin: And I can totally see you and me getting together after this shoot.

Deuce: That depends.

Kolin: On what?

Deuce: On how I look in the pictures.

He was good.

Y/N: Three problems there, bud.

Deuce looked at you and Cleo.

Cleo: 1.) You have a girlfriend.

Y/N: 2.) You're a minor.

Cleo/Y/N: 3.) You're straight.

Deuce gave it some thought and nodded. He then smiled.

Deuce: Oh yeah.

Kolin: The very least of my concerns.

VanVerbeentengarden winked again as an assistant hooked a camera around his shoulder like an AK-47. Then the photographer turned his attention toward a case of lenses.

Overhead, a canopy of star-shaped lights flickered on, casting a magical twinkle across the shimmering sand. It was perfect. Aunt Nefertiti’s jewels were going to love it.

Cleo: I never would have guessed that this was supposed to look like a bottle thingy.

Y/N: Me either.

Deuce: Me either. I just read it on Joffree’s clipboard.

Cleo burst out laughing.

You just rolled your eyes in a that’s-Deuce-for-you sort of way.

Intern: All right, boys and girl, let’s get you on these camels.

You and Deuce exchanged nervous glances. But not Cleo. She had been on a camel at Zanzibar’s petting zoo when she was seven. And from what she remembered, it was no different from riding a slow, lumpy horse, which she’d also done at Zanzibar’s.

Intern: Stay on the path so you don’t mess up the sand. Each animal has a sticker on his hump with your name and his name. Please claim your animal and wait for the wrangler. She’ll help you up.

Cleo: That’s what he said.

Cleo giggled.

Deuce; Nice one.

Deuce slapped her five.

The closer you got to the camels, the more it smelled like wet hay and cat poo.

Cleo winced.

Cleo: Ew, what is that?

Y/N: Camel butt. It's why we always rode horses when we were in the desert.

Cleo: I think mine is sick.

She pinched her nostrils and leaned closer to read the name on his hump.

Cleo: Don’t worry, Niles.

You watched as she pulled a small atomizer from her cleavage.

Cleo: This should help.

She walked around the tan camel while spritzing amber fragrance into the stinky air. He sneezed. She spritzed. He sneezed. She spritzed.

Deuce: Can I try some of that?

Cleo tossed him the perfume.

Deuce: Hey, Humphrey, it’s not just you and the boys anymore. You’re in the presence of models. You have to smell your very best.

He tossed the bottle to you. After the first spritz, Luxor sneezed, rocked to his feet, and took off. Niles and Humphrey followed. You sighed and dropped your head.

Y/N: I hate this. I hate all of this. This dress is too tight, man. This sucks.

Jaydra: Omigod, where’s the wrangler? Where is he?

A stocky brunette woman in cowboy boots and a fancy hat came running out.

Wrangler: She is right here! What’s happening?

Kolin: My set! Do something, wrangler!

Wrangler: My name is Kora!

She began readying the lasso that was clamped to her dungarees.

Kora: Jeez, you’d think someone with a name like VanVerbeentengarden could remember Kora.

Kolin: Just get them back. We’re losing....

Kora: I know, we get it.

She was quick in mounting an ATV.

Kora: You’re losing light.

She hit the gas and sped toward her flock. But the roar of the engine only scared the camels more.

Cleo and Deuce locked arms and huddled together, sheltering each other from the whipping sand. But they refused to take cover in the tent, like the rest of the panicked crew. The chaos was far too entertaining.

Jaydra: Start shooting, VanVerbeentengarden! I’m not paying you to stare.

Kolin: What am I supposed to shoot?! I have no models, no jewels, and no visibility!

Jaydra: Then shoot me!

Jaydra stuffed a finger-gun in her mouth.

Kolin: I’ve been wanting to all day!

You watched this all happen with an amused face. You looked around before you nodded.

Y/N: Okay. I am in a much happier mood. But, I should probably do something.

You reached down and picked up a rope. You checked it before nodding and walking over to where Kora was trying to wrangle up the animals. You cracked hour neck before you started running. You dropped the rope and quickly whipped it forward, causing it to wrap around Humphrey's legs, making him slow to a stop.

You then leaped up and landed on Niles, grabbing a hold of his reigns and pulling him. You rode him until you were alongside Luxor. You began to reach over as you circled around the set, reaching for the reigns.

You finally grabbed them and hopped up onto your feet, digging your heel into the saddle. You then placed your other foot onto Luxor's saddle, effectively riding them both.

Y/N: Sorry, fellas, but I'm having a bad day. This is the end of your fun.

You pulled in the reigns, causing them both to come to a stop. You stayed standing, placing one hand on your hip.

You did that in heels.

Kora: My god. That was incredible.

You spat and looked off into the distance.

Y/N: You're godd*mn right it was.

You hopped off the camels as Kora raced over, hooked the camels with leashes, and led them back to their trailers.

Jaydra: That’s a wrap!

Jaydra kicked a bag of oats as she walked by. She stomped off in an I-am-so-not-looking-at-your-jewelry-sketches sort of way. Not that Cleo could blame her. The shoot had been a catastrophe. But far from disappointing.

Cleo and Deuce walked over to you, relieved that you were okay. You cracked your shoulders before you reached down and took off the golden heels they gave you. Your feet hurt.

Cleo: That was pretty impressive. How did you do that?

You shrugged.

Y/N: You learn a thing or two after traveling the world a dozen times over.

Cleo crossed her arms. Maybe she did judge you too harshly. You had even gotten dressed up with makeup for a photoshoot for her. You owed her nothing. If anything, she owed you a dozen times over.

Cleo: I'm sorry for not trusting you. You....you aren't the person I thought you were. You shouldn't forgive me, but I really didn't intend for any of this to happen.

You shook your head.

Y/N: I know. I believe you. And though I don't forgive you for all the other crap you pulled, we're on even ground.

You held a hand out, which Cleo was more than happy to take. However, you pulled her close and stared right into her eyes with a cold stare.

Y/N: But know, you're on thin ice.

Cleo nodded in understanding. You let her go, only for Deuce to throw his arms around you both and pull you into a group hug.

Deuce: My two favorite people aren't fighting anymore. Best. Day. Ever!

Y/N: Uh, we still have to deal with Lilith.

Deuce's smile dropped.

Deuce: Oh. Yeah. Forgot about that for a second.

You had no idea what the future held. But one thing was for sure. Change was in the air.

But, you didn't know if it was the good kind.