Volume 2: I, chapter 3

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Someone Else's Dream

Fucked me and then fucked me over.

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First and foremost, Vicky's a professional. You don't mess with her. All Gabe wants to do is mess with her.
(I ship it)

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Brendon looks at me briefly, eyes wide. He remembers. Not Keltie, but he remembers what actually matters.

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His feet slip, and he crashes against me, body pressing into my chest. My lower ribs get squashed against the barrier as he pulls me in, air leaving my lungs. He clings onto me for balance, and I fist the back of his jacket to keep him standing.

"Whoa – just –"

"I've got this, don't –"

He almost falls down again, pressing further into me, but then steadies. His breath washes over my neck, his hair pressed against my nose, and I breathe him in without meaning to. We stay still in the awkwardly fitted embrace, and my fingers tighten their hold of his jacket. It's like he's too afraid to move.

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I talk to Gabe sitting next to me, my righthand man, and Keltie on my other side as my queen. And from this throne I'll judge the rest of the people in the cabinet as I sip on wine, smoke cigarettes, take the guests in slowly and calmly with hawk-like attention.

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"No, you listen to me. When you were growing up and you pictured your life, were you in the leading role? Were you? Or was this your goal, being the sidekick in someone else's dream?"

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Brendon is nervously shredding a napkin into bits of fluff. He doesn't have to worry. I've got it from here.

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