Flip Side

Chapter 6: Growing Up Is Getting Old

CONTENT WARNING: PTSD flashbacks, mentions of drugs and sex

DNM is finally out and has already gotten added to Funky Friday! If you're wondering why I was gone for a couple weeks, that's why lol. Go play it if you haven't already, we're on both Gamejolt and Gamebanana! Give the team a huge hand, they all worked so hard!

https://gamejolt.com/games/DateNightMasses/647268
https://gamebanana.com/mods/365777

In this chapter we learn Rasazy is also not doing too well.

Song of the chapter is Growing Up Is Getting Old by VICTORIA

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His days blurred together. Blow. Hookers. Drink. Parties. Rinse and repeat.

Selever knew he was being swallowed in the darkness, knew he was avoiding the real problem. By this point though he didn't know how to stop. It was like he was on a speeding train, careening towards a messy end. So he was going through the motions, while his thoughts were in free-fall.

He hadn't seen Milly in hours. Or had it been days? Weeks? He didn't know. Maybe she'd finally quit.

Maybe he'd finally pushed everyone away and was finally alone. Like he'd always wanted. Like he deserved.

He looked himself in the mirror of the dirty club bathroom. He was well into his twenties now, but all he saw looking back at him was a scared teenager. He'd stopped aging normally his last year of private school, and he and Julius had laughed together about how he'd have a baby face forever. A perpetual pretty boy.

He couldn't look himself in the face anymore. Not even in the mirror, which only showed his glamoured form.

He didn't even know what his best friend was up to. He hadn't thought of his best friend in years. Was Julius okay? Was he even still alive in a Hell ruled by his baby sister, a Hell with a queen seemingly carved of ice and snow, glittering and cold? Had he helped put her on the throne, or saved his own skin and hid?

How was Ras even? Had she cloaked herself in a persona of perfection to protect herself? He knew she would push herself to breaking if it meant she achieved her ambitions. She'd always been one to push and push, never taking no for an answer, a calculating serpent in the grass. They were alike in that regard. Was she still even his sister?

He didn't remember if he'd talked to his mom and dad at all. It was probably better if he didn't. He didn't think he could take his mother's concern and his father's stern detachment. He didn't know if they even knew he'd begun to hate himself, throwing his life away for the next high and the next warm, willing body.

He scrubbed his face and lit another cigarette. Then he pushed his way out of the bathroom and into the teeming souls on the dancefloor. In a crowd he could feel some bit of peace. In a crowd he could be faceless. In a crowd he could be lost.

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Rasazy clenched her fists on the obsidian of her throne. "How did they die?!"

Cerberus flinched back from her Queen's rage. Shaking, she bowed her head.

"A man, my liege. A man entered from the eastern gate and has cut a swath through the eastern legion."

Rasazy clenched her teeth. "And how did he get in here," she gritted out, before snapping her fingers. An imp came with a glass and a bottle of wine. It filled the glass and left her with the drink at her side.

"We don't know, your grace." Cerberus wrung their hands, and Rasazy's eyes narrowed.

"Handle it. I don't care how. Get that upstart out of my demesne."

The Prince of the First Circle fled. Rasazy plucked up her glass and swirled the wine inside, before taking a small sip. She did what she did best; she brooded.

She'd stopped aging around fourteen or fifteen, but she'd always been mature for her age. Even at the tender age of nine she'd possessed a formidable mind, amazing her father and making her mother shine with pride. So how was it, with all this knowledge and power, that she was still having to defend her throne like a child playing pretend in her mother's shoes?

She sipped again. She'd relied too long on Julius to help her maintain stability. Relied on her brother too much as a child to anchor her. Without either, she for once found herself adrift. Right when a rebel was cutting through her forces. Right when she could least afford to be distracted. Right when she needed her mind clear and sharp as her sword.

She finished her glass, set it on the arm of her throne, and stalked out of the throne room. No one stopped her.

She wandered the halls of her palace, the clacking of her heels too loud in the silence. She made her way to her chambers, slid open the glass doors of her balcony, and gazed out over her domain.

How long could she keep this up? How long could she rule without someone by her side?

Her eyes slid closed.

She was clinging to a shelf, wind whipping around her and papers flying. Her father flung Selever at her mother and shielded himself with one arm, picking his way to his daughter and clinging to anything bolted down to avoid being sucked in. Eventually he made it to Rasazy and gathered her with the arm not holding to the shelf. Her mother stood by the door, her face panic-stricken as he made his way back, unable to close the portal until they got to safety. They were mere feet from the door when it happened.

It was like everything was in slow-motion. He threw Ras at her mother, and his foot slipped. His feet went out from under himself, hanging by his fingers as the chaos raged. His grip on the shelf gave, and he was flying through the air.

Her eyes few open and a shuddering sob left her throat as she clasped her hand to her mouth. Her face was wet. Rasazy wiped the tears away with shaking hands.

She had gone over the scenario countless times in her head. It was the first time she'd ever felt helpless. The first time her mind had meant nothing. The first time her intellect had failed her.

And here she was with everything she'd ever wanted, and her intelligence was failing her again.

She sighed and the steel left her back as she slumped, her head bowing. She was no longer the glittering Queen of Hell. No longer silk hiding steel. No, in this moment where no one could see her, when all the people who had supported her thus far were far beyond her reach, she was just Rasazy. Just a young woman with no answers.

Fuck, growing up was getting old.

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Julius felt like a ghost, lurking the shadows of yet another club in the LA underbelly. He cursed to himself as he watched the once shining Prince, the Antichrist, his best friend, stumble out the door like a wraith, hopefully back to his apartment where he could sleep it off. Hopefully he even remembered where it was.

He didn't know when it had gotten this bad. When his friends had stopped being the carefree and driven people they had been when they were all kids. When all their plans had gone to shit and they had lost who they were.

Julius stubbed out his cigarette and followed his friend out the door. The heavy Los Angeles heat hit him like a freight truck as he exited, and he shoved his hands into his pockets.

He wanted his friends back. When did it come to this? When had they all gotten so messed up?

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See you tomorrow :)