It is no secret that in all of Disney villain songs, whether in the Silver Age or the renaissance age, there's always a neon green in every magenta background. Other than lime green color, the color burning red represents passion time rage, while pu...
(Still Davis pov) The night of the show—the one everyone would later call a moment for life—the crowd was loud and restless. Music carried through the square, joy hanging thick in the air.
I began watched faces instead. Who leaned in. Who looked away. Who decided who mattered before a word was spoken. "Blessed rather are those who hear the word of God and obey it." Mama's voice echoed in my head, gentle but firm.
*3 minutes earlier* "I'm tired of waitin'," I said quietly. "You told me obedience was the path. I obeyed. Ain't nothin' changed."
Mama Odie finally turned. Her eyes were gentle—but tired. "Baby," she said, "the Devil don't start by askin' for your soul. He starts by tellin' you you're owed."
"You been invitin' something you don't understand," she warned.
Closing my eyes to calm myself, I said to her, "I ain't ask nobody for help."
"That's what makes it dangerous," she replied as I just sighed out of feeling defeated. Not wanting to talk back or anything, I decided to take a walk.
*2 days later- School, lunch time*
"Davis, remember how Abram chose the land for himself and Lot? Sometimes we have to choose carefully what path to walk, even if it splits us from what we want." He mentions,
"Yeah... but what if the path I want is easier than the one I should take?"
"Then you need courage, like David facing Goliath. Strength isn't just muscle—it's heart, spirit, and mind." He says, patting me on the shoulder.
He begins to hum 'Down in New Orleans' while we were celebrating the culture as we talk about 'Friendsgiving', '
James shook his head. "World's right there. You work hard, you treat people right, things fall into place." Half-smiled, feeling a bit unsure at what he said.
Facilier studied him, eyes dark and unreadable in the low light. "That what your daddy tells you?"
James smiled, proud and unashamed. "Every day." Looking away, I began to tap the stick again, but this time with two sticks and I did it with rhythm. "Must be nice. Havin' faith like that." I replied.
Not having much to say anymore, we just stood in silence, just enjoying the view. The city humming below them—music drifting from an open bar down the street, laughter, the clatter of a streetcar. A trumpet wailed from somewhere down the street—raw, improvised jazz bleeding into funk bass thumping from a passing car. My foot tapped automatically, catching both rhythms at once.
A week later...
(Third pov)
Davis had been careful. Always careful. He remembered Mama Odie's words: Don't hide from yourself, baby—but don't let temptation lead you blind.
Tonight, the temptation was strong. He wanted to test the limits—just one trick to see if the deck would bend to him the way it seemed to do sometimes. A trick that might make a spectator's luck swing in his favor, that might win something someone else was unaware of losing.
He cut the deck, slow, deliberate. A card jumped of its own accord, spinning to the floor.
Davis's stomach twisted. That wasn't supposed to happen—not yet. On the next day, davis went to the bakery, doing errands for his mother, and that was when he saw Belle.
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Davis leaned against the counter, pretending to watch her work, though his eyes kept stealing glances at the way light caught the strands of hair framing her face.
"Want to try?" Belle asked suddenly, holding out a small rolling pin. "You can make the first batch."
He hesitated, then laughed softly. "Me? Baking? I'll probably burn the place down."
She smirked. "That's why it's fun. Mistakes make the best memories."
For a moment, it was just that: a boy and a girl laughing in a kitchen, the world outside faded. He rolled out a wobbly line of dough, and Belle laughed—not mockingly, but warmly.
