tongue of the serpent ➵ a.b.

Chapter 42: Crisp Morbid Beauty

I woke up in the wrong bed. I woke up in a bed with the strong scent of linen - not vanilla. When my nose hit the sheets or my body shifted closer to the body in the bed with me, I was not comforted. I needed another bed. I needed my remembrance of home and good memories. I needed my Andy.

I sit up, stretching my back. I check my phone to see the time. It was 10:30. I guess it was time to rise and shine. The performance was today...and I really need not to oversleep.

I step into the kitchen, Frey and Kane are awake, brewing up a storm with their baby kisses on their cheeks and lips.

"I don't mean to interrupt, but I thought you had no physical connection?" I question, getting a bowl out the cabinets for my morning cereal; it was my ritual.

Kane shields himself in Frey's shirt, blushing hard. He was so shy; it was honestly very cute.

Frey doesn't answer me back. He just looks at me with his lips tucked in his mouth and his hands holding Kane close to his body.

"Ah," I conclude, "you are gay for each other." Finally, someone here came over their fears.

Frey finally speaks after he wills Kane to look up once again. "Have you seen the tabloids lately?"

Kane slinks back into Frey's tee. He probably did not want to be reminded of those stupid headlines.

I shake my head, almost in disbelief. "You think I actually pay attention to that fucking junk?"

"Well," he states, "if you'd pay attention to your surroundings from time to time and not that boy-toy you got back in your room, then maybe you might be caught up to date with what the press is saying about us and Courtney Holiday."

I roll my eyes at both him and the name he mentioned. "Courtney Holiday is a bitch. She doesn't deserve to win." I pour my cereal in my bowl. Frosted Flakes, my favorite!

Frey almost chuckles at my connections. "Anyone can fucking see that if they knew her one second off-stage and off-camera. But the audience or press doesn't know the real her."

I begin to pour my milk in my bowl, not extremely surprised at Frey's accusations of the media. "Can you please just give me a rundown of what they've said recently?"

Kane sits up in Frey's lap. He opens his lips and speaks for the first time. "There have been headlines like, 'Frey and Kane: Does Frane Exist?' and 'Lethia and Andy: Will Their Relationship Work Out?' It's been really stupid and crap."

I sit down at the table with a spoon and begin to munch down on my cereal. "Well, what have they been saying?"

Frey takes over the speech. "Accusing us of being gay since we didn't exactly confirm we were in that stupid interview. They've attacked you and Andy multiple times, just so people would pick up their magazine and read. They've accused Courtney of steroid abuse."

"Steroid abuse?" I snort, getting a real kick out of that one. "I honestly wouldn't be surprised if she really did that." I scoop another bite of cereal into my mouth.

Frey nods, mildly amused. He comforts Kane like a baby; his sweet, sweet child. It's so cute and caring. In fact, it almost reminds me of...

Oh, fuck.

"Please excuse me," I say, hopping out of the chair. Kane and Frey give me confused looks. "You can eat the cereal, guys."

I make my way into the bathroom. I shut the door and lock it, closing myself away from the outside world. I looked up into the mirror, one which I haven't seen in days.

The young woman I see in the mirror is not Lethia Nex Harper. I see a morbid creature, wishing for her brother back. The way the two boys in the kitchen held each other reminded me of the night Art got sent away by my father.