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love-and-anarchy-au · 4 years

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Love & Anarchy: Chapter 12

hell000000000000!!!!! AC3, IM SO EXCITED ABOUT THIS CHAPTERRRR!! is the longest i’ve written yet and is just so...w0w. i loved wriing this chapter, and thinking bout the dialogues, and the characters and gosh, i luv them all my babies <3 besides, this chapter isn’t as heavy as the previous one so enjoy this break ;)

REMEMBER THIS AU HAPPENS IN THE SAME UNIVERSE THAT THIS ONE

Find out what this AU is about here

Masterlist

Tag list: @healing-winston-pratt @dawniebb @obsidianfr3sk @nodrianbcyes @everyone-has-a-nightmare @magykaldealings @quinterickson @cerenoya @cassin-the-assasin

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Words:

21,394 (when i said this one’s the longest yet, i meant it xd)

Part 2: A teen named Ace Artino

13 years old Alec

“Ace!”

Alec just turned away, distracted and narrow-eyed, still wrapped in threadbare blankets on a mattress of the same thickness as a piece of paper. He didn't want to wake up, he didn't want to go to school, he didn't want to, he didn't want to, he didn't want to.

He wanted to sleep.

Alexandra Onitraze giggled.

“Wake up, Artino. You won't make it to class by laying there.”

Alec yawned and snorted at the same time. He opened his eyes widely, although his vision was still blurry, and he saw James Roselo, his best friend, watching him from the doorframe of his room, with his elegant gray clothes, his very expensive shoes and his hair combed to the side, with gel. He had a subtle smile on his face.

They had appeared out of nowhere, since Alec hadn't heard them until a minute ago; product of James' teleportation, probably.

Alexandra and James were Alec's best friends, his true family. Unlike Alec’s father and brother, they both accepted and loved him. The three of them had emigrated from Italy the same day, and thanks to something (God, maybe) their parents had decided to enroll them in the same primary school, where they met one more time and never separated again.

Each had their story and their reality. Alexandra, her mother, and her siblings had emigrated from Italy when Alexandra's mother discovered that her husband was cheating on her and he proceeded to abandon them right after. Currently, Alexandra's mother was a sex worker, who accepted a roof to sleep under and a few dollars as her payment. Alexandra had a lot of siblings, but she was unaware of all of them, as they were all often troublesome (Alexandra herself included). She didn’t have a especific home, just a one room department where she kept her stuff, but she tended to sleep on bars or James’ house, as she didn’t want to be near her mother nor her siblings.

James, for his part, was the son of a lesbian marriage of strict mothers. James had no siblings and lived in a fairly luxurious apartment in the center of the city. He was quite a strange being, very thoughtful, who played the piano and loved to read (in fact, he lent a lot of his books to Alec, under the excuse that he was being merciful to his brain, since the educational system would never teach him what he had to learn; books, on the other hand, would do).

“Or maybe yes,” James said, responding to Alexandra's prediction. Then he asked, “Why don't you fly?”

Alec snorted. Alexandra and James helped him train his powers during the weekend, on the coast. Some time ago, Alec had accidentally learned how to levitate. However, it was a skill that he still didn't know how to control very well. Alexandra said it was because he had an internal imbalance, and that until he found a trigger inside him to use his powers, he would be an unstable prodigy.

The prognosis was grim. Alec still couldn't find his trigger.

“I don't think it's worth being burned in public for being a damn prodigy who just wanted to get to school on time,” Alec muttered, in response to James.

Alexandra looked at him sadly. Her eyes, which were accentuated by a bold winged eyeliner in their upper lash line, were loaded with infinite knowledge about Alec's everyday life.

“Again?”

It was not necessary to agree, the words were unnecessary. Another tremor had occurred at the apartment of Drain Way and Southwest 435. Dante had not lost the habit of spanking his son over the years and Alec had gained the habit of exploiting his powers when this happened. Apparently, his trigger was deeply connected to his survival instinct, but he believed it went beyond that. He was lucky his father hadn't found out about it and killed him yet, but with Dante being so drunk when he hit him, it was very likely that he believed the tremors shaking the building were only a side effect of the alcohol in his body.

“Calm down, Ace. You will learn to control your powers. What happened to the helmet?” James asked, moving closer to Alexandra and Alec. The three of them ended up sitting on the floor (with a mattress of the thickness of a piece of paper, sitting on it was practically sitting on the floor).

Alec huffed.

“I look ridiculous.”

Alexandra laughed and stroked Alec's curly hair, intending for it to be a distracted move but ended up coming off as an extremely calculated one.

“You are powerful, Ace Artino. Don't forget that,” Alexandra said, in a whisper.

James snorted. While he believed in the power of subtleties, he also believed that there was an exception to the rule when applied to flirting. As far as Alec knew, James didn't believe in love, at least not the romantic kind.

“Go change, Artino, or we'll really be late,” James ordered.

Alec nodded, searched the edge of the bed for his clothes, and went to the bathroom to change. A pair of old jeans, a white T-shirt, and a black jacket that was bigger than it should have been. Since they could no longer afford gel (David was selling fewer metals every day; Gatlon was actually very competent in that market), Alec turned on the water tap and filled his hands with it, then ran it through his hair. He took the wooden brush that had been Julieta's, and combed his hair back. He didn't have time to brush his teeth but he hadn't had had dinner the night before so it didn't make sense to do that.

James and Alexandra were waiting for him in his room; they were lucky that Dante was gone (he barely ever was home) and that David had already been picked up by his friends to go to the cheapest private school Dante had managed to find. Alexandra had a hand resting on her hip, accentuating her curves even more, as they were already pretty much accentuated by the black strappy dress she was wearing. Alexandra always wore the most inappropriate clothes for every situation: formal and daring for school and careless and masculine for when she went out. It was almost as if “rebellion” was her middle name.

Maybe it was.

Alec approached them.

“Take my hand, you bastards,” James ordered, and suddenly, he took Alexandra and Alec's hands.

And they teleported to school.

Teleporting was a strange sensation and process. It was for your organs to shrink until your liver was next to your tongue and you could taste it; it was for your bones to separate until they were mixed as a premix; it was that your eyes multiplied and divided at the same time; it was your skin folding like origami

And it was also the opposite. It was for your organs to inflate like balloons and hang in the air; it was for your bones to shrink and move away from each other like polar opposites; it was for your eyes to remain static and imperturbable, it was for your skin to stretch and stretch like a gum that Alexandra chewed.

All of that, in a second.

Alec hated and deeply loved what it meant to teleport.

He knew James knew that.

They were in front of the dilapidated building that was their school, the only public school in Gatlon. The building was at least half a century old, had dirty colonial-style arched windows, angry henchmen and angels with trumpets in the four corners of the building's roof, dirt from years marked vertically on the adobe walls, walnut doors that creaked, rough granite floors (which you wished would not to fall on), high ceilings and low ceilings, a fifty-square-foot basement, more than twenty pairs of rooms and bathrooms flooded since (probably) the construction of that place.

Before becoming hell-for-students-only, it had been a madhouse (Alec could not escape the irony of that).

Alec believed that such places were meant to be destroyed, and yet he feared that he would be the one to destroy it (intentionally or not) as James adored that deplorable, ancient construction; he’d even chosen to go there instead of going to Gatlon’s most prestigious private school, all because of his friends and the indifference of his mothers about it (they said that as long as he had the best grades in the entire school, he could assist any school he like).

Furthermore, destroying their school would only earn him a one-way trip to be burned on Gatlon's main avenue, being the evening's entertainment.

Maybe even James’ mothers would hunt him down if he did that.

Alec sighed. One more day, one more day, one more day.

James gave Alec and Alexandra five seconds to recover and then stepped onto the front porch. The massive walnut doors were already closed, but Alec opened them with his mind. Alexandra smiled at him and James nodded, pleased, as they passed through those doors and found themselves in the main hall.

Professor Tatjer was waiting for them, her arms crossed.

Marie Tatjer was a woman in her early eighties (she couldn't be eighty because she should have already retired at that age, but she seemed to be) who always wore a stern and tired expression. Her eyes were tiny, her skin was wrinkled like a sea full of waves, and she always wore a thigh-tight skirt and a swamp green blazer. Alec despised her deeply, as she had been a recognized Prodigy Hunter, and did not allow their access to her institution. In other words, what kind of monster denied another human access to basic education?

Well, Marie Tatjer.

“Mr. Roselo, Miss Onitraze, Mr. Artino, why are you arriving at this time? Classes started ten minutes ago.”

While Alexandra continued to chew on her gum, her blood-red gloss lips never faded off, and Alec opened his mouth to respond (although he didn't know how or what to), James stepped forward and used his talent for words.

“We had a prodigious delay,” James answered at the second. Alec and Alexandra frowned together, in sync.

“Justified and logical delay. You're forgiven,” professor Tatjer replied, patting James, who was the star student at that school. Alec didn't snort, as James' favoritism came from many sides, whether he was the richest kid to ever go to that place or he was really smart. Plus, he was incredibly handsome.

The favoritism made sense.

Professor Tatjer walked away, and when she was out of sight, Alexandra tapped James on the shoulder, without being too subtle.

“Why are you such a liar?” asked Alexandra, queen of brutal honesty. She was frowning as she pulled a cherry lollipop out of her leather backpack and put it in her mouth, without removing the gum she had been chewing up to that point.

James smirked and rubbed his fist against Alexandra's skull, tousling her hair. Alexandra showed him her tongue, red as dawn.

“I did not lie. I spoke a partial truth. We are prodigies and we had a delay, that she has interpreted that we come across a burning of prodigies is not my fault,” James replied, with a smile from ear to ear, showing his pearly teeth.

Alec was still unconvinced, but he had to admit he was crafty. Maybe he should start learning from James and be more mischievous on the basics, like getting away from punishment after class for falling asleep.

“Lying is not the same as telling a partial truth. You must know when to say one thing and when to say another,” recited James, to settle the matter. Alec raised an eyebrow.

“Who said that?” he asked.

“Me,” James replied.

The three of them laughed.

“What class do we have now?” Alexandra asked, distracted as she took a gum from the front pocket of her leather backpack. Her constant need to have something in her mouth and for that something to be sugar, was insatiable. James never missed an opportunity to remind her that she was going to die of diabetes (to which she replied “better diabetic than burned in the streets,” thought it didn’t make any sense).

“Literature,” Alec and James answered together. They looked into each other's eyes, in sync.

Alec smiled shyly. James also smiled, pleased. Alexandra, out of nowhere, started clapping and hopping on her leather boots, stolen from one of her mother’s clients.

“We should go see a psychic!” the girl snapped.

James frowned and frowned, creating a contemptuous sneer. Alec raised his eyebrows and opened his eyes.

“What's that about?” Alec asked.

Alexandra made incomprehensible gestures with her hands, moving her red nails, and began to vomit distorted words:

“You see, seeing you so synchronized made me start to think about coincidences, and that led me to think about destiny and that led me to think about who can read it and that made me think about the pamphlet I saw yesterday (which was from a psychic) and that made me think that I really wanted to go see her and that I also wanted to invite you so, that.”

James and Alec were still stumped.

“All that in seconds?” James asked disbelievingly.

Alexandra nodded. Alec and James sighed and walked alongside Alexandra to their classes.

“Alex, do you still have that pamphlet?” Alec asked. Alexandra took out a crumpled paper from her backpack. Alec took it between his fingers and stretched it out. The paper had the following words written in Chinese ink:

Irene López

Psychic

Downtown 68 and Lumbrad Street

“It looks like it wanted you to find it,” Alec commented, regarding the paper. Alexandra only darkened her smile with intrigue and mystery.

“Who knows ... maybe that pamphlet found me.”

James snorted.

“Paper has no legs, Alexandra Onitraze,” James spat.

“I know, Little Anarchist,” Alexandra crooned and ran off before James could even land a good blow. James hated being called a “Little Anarchist” just because he believed that prodigies should destroy everything and rule the world. Alec sighed and laughed at the same time.

Anyway…

That was his family.

His eccentric and crazy family.

His real family.

They might not be united by blood but by love, the work of fate.

Was it true that destiny was written?

Alec didn't know.

But he knew who did.

He looked at the pamphlet, crumpled in his fist.

Someday…

“Gosh, I'm tired of this shit.”

“Language.”

Alexandra stuck her tongue out at James, and he rolled his eyes. Alec laughed.

“What’s for lunch today?” he asked. His head ached, his throat was begging for food, and he hadn't had anything to drink or eat since last night. His stomach was queasy and empty at the same time.

Alexandra noticed this, and took a chocolate bar out of her bag.

“I drank all my water but eat this, now,” she ordered and practically stuck the chocolate bar in his mouth; she wasn't going to take a no for an answer nor allow Alec to starve (although he could live three weeks without food).

Alec lifted the chocolate up to his lips and his stomach growled with pleasure knowing that it would soon have sustenance. In addition, the chocolate was delicious since it was one of the most expensive available (and what food would not taste good after eighteen hours without eating?).

It was twelve o'clock, and although there were still a couple of classes left, they were at recess for lunch. The school canteen (like its cafeteria) was in the interior concrete courtyard, outdoors. The canteen always offered two options, quite expensive for the quality of what they offered, but you could always bring your food. James ate the food from the canteen, or brought his own from time to time, and Alexandra and Alec shared the food, which could be stolen by Alexandra, or paid for by Alec once a month.

Alexandra sighed/yawned/groaned.

“But, seriously, how long ‘till get out of here?” she grumbled, as they walked through the crowded hallways, toward the courtyard. A north wind had invaded Gatlon, so Alexandra had donned her baggy blue-black wool sweater, with a yellow “A” painted with acrylics on the chest. When Alec or James asked her why or what that “A” meant, there was always a different answer: sometimes it was “Alexandra”; other times, “Alec”; when she wanted to sulk at James it was “Anarchy”, she even once said it was after the A in “Asshole”.

In short, its meaning was like a mathematical variable. It could mean anything and was only defined by the related factors.

“It depends,” answered James, “are we talking about daily school or our education in this building?”

“Both,” Alexandra replied, rummaging for something in her leather backpack.

James smiled cruelly. He was about to land a low blow on Alexandra.

“Daily, we'll get out of here in two hours. Yearly, there’s still four years left.”

Alexandra moaned pitifully. Alec frowned because James had laid out facts and hadn't used them against Alexandra as his smile had predicted ...

“But for you, with your detentions and your grades, you still have four hours in here and maybe six years, if you're lucky enough.”

There it was.

Alexandra groaned upset, as she dropped her backpack and let it hang from one of her shoulders.

“Will you EVER be nice to me? JUST ONE TIME!” Alexandra asked, waving her hands frantically. James laughed.

“I'll try,” James promised, but Alec watched as he crossed his fingers behind his back.

Alec took them and forcibly uncrossed them.

“You will,” he muttered through his teeth.

James sighed.

They reached the courtyard, which was more crowded than the hallways, even. There were students lining up, students occupying tables, or students just chatting. Alexandra raised her chin without losing her composure, looking for a table to sit on. When she saw a well in the background, closer to the metal fence that separated them from a patio with trees, she smiled and went to it.

But first they had to pass through the tumult of students.

And that...

Would not it be nice.

They all had reputations, Alexandra used to say. “For better or for worse,” she explained. Alec didn't know how to feel about it. Alexandra used to wear low-cut dresses, mini skirts, boots, all embracing her skin, muscles and curves; only when they went to school. People whispered things about her. People said she was flirty. That she wanted to show off. That she was ‘asking for it’. Alexandra had gained a very delicate type of reputation for the only reason she was confident in her own skin, in this case, in her clothes (the fact that people knew she was the daughter of a prostitute played an important part in it too). She said she didn’t care, and Alec believed her. She was strong. However, even strength became fragile as a feather sometimes, and he often caught her rubbing her red eyes after coming out of the bathroom.

Meanwhile, Alec and James had no proper reputations; they were the misters nobody, the weird dudes, the clients of the sex worker. James would be a star to the teachers, but to the students he was just a show off who came to show all the money he had and they didn't. He could buy everyday anything he needed or wanted from the cantine, he wore silk and cotton clothes, his smile shone more than one hundred pearls under the light of the sun; he was a prince and everyone could see that. Besides, he didn't hang out too much with people other than Alec and Alexandra, his family, his ground wires.

So there they were, swimming through a sea of gossiping, hormonal teenagers, trying not to drown in the insults and whispers.

Alec and James were walking behind Alexandra, together, as she knew where they were going, and just as they were about to leave the crowd, a girl with light brown hair approached Alexandra and tried to spank her.

Tried.

Alexandra caught her by the wrist on the spot, and pulled her, until their noses were inches from each other. The girl's eyes were pure lava and Alexandra was a human iceberg.

“Whore” spat the girl.

“I’m not a mirror, Jessica” replied Alexandra, with a cold superiority smile. She released her wrist, as if it disgusted her, and Jessica left.

Alexandra went to the table, sat down, and Alec and James did the same.

Alexandra blew out a breath and laughed hysterically. Alec and James looked at each other.

James's irises said “Is she crazy?”

Alec's said “I have no idea, but let's stay silent.”

And then Alexandra's eyes watered.

“I'm not a whore,” Alexandra whispered, her plate voice crashing into the wall.

James took her hand.

“You're not, Alexandra,” James comforted her, and closed his lips to open them again and said, “Your mo…”

Alec stomped his foot and James opened his mouth in a silent scream of pain.

Luckily, Alexandra didn't notice.

Alec took her other hand, and Alexandra looked at him. She hadn't shed too many tears.

“I’m… I’m… sorry. I shouldn't have…” Alexandra began to apologize.

Alec shut her up.

“Don’t apologize for feeling.”

Alexandra's eyes sparkled, and her lips formed a faint smile.

“Thanks, Ace.”

Alec just nodded.

Alexandra snorted, activated, and straightened up. She rubbed the palms of her hands, and her eyes were sparkling again.

“Whateverrr, I'm gonna buy some food. What do ya want, Ace?” Alexandra asked, back in her usual mood.

Alec shook his head.

“Anything that contains sugar. And water, please.”

Alexandra raised her thumbs and marched towards the canteen, pushing her way through the tide of students, not caring about anything, sure and confident of her sparkling personality.

James sighed.

“She's gone completely off the trolly,” he commented, pulling a sandwich out of his pocket.

Alec laughed sarcastic.

“Haven’t we all?”

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