Sucker (ON HOLD/INCOMPLETE)

5: Is This Love

I updated a previous chapter, which said that Gabriel and Luke had remained partnered. Instead of them, I put North and Silas together.

So to recap: North and Silas are a team, Sean and Owen are a team, and everyone else has sort of gone their own ways. They still remain in some communication, but it's distant and superficial.

And that's what you missed on Glee!

This chapter is brought to you by: a grilled cheese sandwich, made with Envy apples and Gruyere cheese.

Song: "Is This Love" by Whitesnake

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Sang

I collapsed onto my bed as soon as I got home to Mrs. Rose's. A part of me protested; I'd worked up quite a sweat on the job tonight, and I didn't want to get that all over the bedspread. But I was too overwhelmed to do something about it.

The night had been nothing like my expectations. It was supposed to be an easy favor to the owner of the club. She'd opened it knowing that stripping and sex work would occur no matter what – at least under her eye, the girls would be safe. Yet the girls reported feeling unsafe, and it was my job to find the man or men responsible. Easy in, easy out. At this point in my Academy career, I could handle some light groping and nasty promises as long as I could cleanse myself soon enough afterwards. I'd go in, catch the guy, meet the new team I was working with, and get out.

I wasn't sure I'd ever been so wrong in my life.

I'd caught the guy easily enough. He'd been particularly foul, pleasuring himself as the girls danced for him and trying to pay them off for a good time, as though exotic dancing was an invitation. I looked forward to watching him go down on charges. The owner planned to implement new reporting measures to keep the girls safe and comfortable raising issues.

I'd been practically bouncing on the balls of my feet by the time I'd gone to meet the team, the remnants of a mission done well. I was sure it was a sign that my partnership with the new team would be fortuitous.

Oh, how wrong I was.

I reflected on the night. The way Luke's brother – North – had looked on me with disdain, the others with grim fascination.

I embraced the pain as I considered Victor, Luke, Gabriel, and Kota. I deserved the pain and worse for leaving them when I knew my heart didn't want it. So goes the life of a ghost, though: leaving at the drop of a hat and never coming back.

I knew I was selfish in writing the notes. It was self-preservation at best. Yet I couldn't bring myself to break up with them in person, figuring I'd save us both the pain.

But I knew it was cowardice. I hadn't wanted to face what I'd gone through with Victor ever again.

I could still recall the way he'd gripped at my waist, pulled me to him, begged me not to go. How I clutched at his shirt and cried as he tried to make sense of what I was saying. I myself wasn't too sure, just spewing what I read in novels and saw in movies.

I hadn't wanted to go. It had been the furthest from my desires, but my obligation to help, guilt from knowing the Academy had rescued me when so many others couldn't, wouldn't be saved, was too strong. A savior complex, I supposed.

No, I never wanted to leave Victor, but that was exactly what I had done.

I wasn't sure what love... true love was, too confused by the way my heart felt with each of the men, but if I had to put a phrase to it, I'd call Victor my first. My first boyfriend, my first love, my first... of many things. Everything was him. The piano, Vivaldi... even New York became a faint memory compared to the solar eclipse that was Victor Morgan.

A year at eighteen and nineteen, shrouded in the essence of moss and berries.

Twenty brought Los Angeles and Luke Taylor.

He was a model – local work, nothing too recognizable, the kind I now realized his Academy work required – and a pastry assistant. I'd wondered where he put all the goods he ate, his body too toned for the lack of workout regime he pursued. I'd spent the better part of six months with him, content that his sporadic schedule meant fewer questions when I disappeared.

I'd cut myself off from dating for nearly two years after that, swearing off men and pain.

Then Gabriel crashed in at twenty-two.

San Francisco was a blur. Paint in my hair, on my hands, just about everywhere. 'Don't worry, it's washable!' My fingers tracing his collarbones. His voice crooning "Love Me Tender" as he held me close, in too deep a sleep to notice me slipping away for some new job in the middle of the night. Four months of his whirlwind.

I'd cried myself to sleep for about a month after that, before forcing myself to get together.

Then it was Kota. Hot chocolate on a drizzling morning in Seattle, our breaths visibly mingling in the air. Five months of staring across coffee tables as he described work I could barely begin to comprehend, enraptured by the way his eyes lit up. Visits to the dog park, strolling hand-in-hand. Slow dancing in the living room to some Journey record he'd received from his mother.

My mind whirled with the memories, heart panging sharply as I remembered exactly how much of a coward I had been. Too afraid to face them, too afraid to face myself.

A tear escaped my eye. I wiped furiously at it. A small part of me remembered the mission report I still had due. I decided to take a bath first to clear my head.

I stood from the bed, my body suddenly aching with fatigue. From a long day of hard work, or grief and remorse, I couldn't be sure.

I filled the tub, undressed, and sunk in, fully immersing myself.

I passively wondered what would happen if I sank and just stayed there.

I remained in the tub until the water was cold, pruned skin growing goosebumps.

But my mind never stopped racing.

Dressed in pajamas, I ventured down to the kitchen to make a cup of cocoa, a habit I had picked up from Kota for whenever I was upset.

I found Mrs. Rose there, boiling water for her own cup of tea. I wondered how late she'd been out.

Looking at her accusingly as I began steaming milk, I said, "You knew, didn't you?"

She smiled impishly at me. "I may have suspected. It was too much to be a coincidence."

"You could have said something. Perhaps before I met their whole team looking like a Playboy bunny."

"I told you things would come back to bite you!"

I leveled a glare at her. "You are not the embodiment of karma."

"I have my moments."

My brow quirked. "So, you decided you'd teach me a little lesson."

"I consider it a practice in situational preparedness. You must always expect the unexpected. And your actions always have repercussions."

I groaned, knowing she was right, then changed the subject. "So, tell me about your day?"