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1. i’ve got no place, building you a rocket up to outer space,
“it’s a work in progress,” vi tells her, fiddling with the strings on neck of the guitar. the morning sun shines through the window, highlighting the contours of her face, illuminating the scars on her eyebrow and mouth. propped up on the kitchen table, she shifts her weight so her lap can accommodate the instrument.
“okay,” lux says, smiles small. she leans against the wall, tucking her hands into her pockets. “go ahead.”
“she-” vi lifts a hand off the guitar, gestures towards her. “she came up with this, like, when she was seven. it was my birthday, and she didn’t- she forgot to make a present for me, so she learnt this on the ukulele in the morning and played it for me. at this table. right over there,” she points lightly towards a spot in front of the table, right opposite herself. lux’s gaze shifts with her index finger.
what did she look like younger? she wants to ask. one braid, maybe, instead of two? blue eyes, maybe, instead of pink?
she doesn’t ask. “i’ve always tried a hand at this,” vi continues, sounding a little bashful, “but i’ve never been able to get it down, uh- you know what? let’s just try it. tell me what you think.”
“okay.”
2. i watch you fade, keeping the lights on in this forsaken place,
powder is oh-so-small in her arms, shaking like a little hamster, tears from her eyes like jewels from the sea. they stain the sleeve of vi’s shirt and soak into her skin, making her heart ache. she holds her little sister a little tighter, holds her a little longer. “i love you,” she tells her, trying to keep her voice steady even on the edge of breaking. “i love you. i love you, i love you so much,” her lip quivers, “i love you, okay? no matter what. i got you. i got you.”
the moonlight streams into the room through the glass, filters its rays across the room. vi closes her eyes and squeezes powder tight, doesn’t let her go ‘til sleep comes over her and powder stops shaking as much. and every word, she knows, she means it.
3. little star, feels like you fell right on my head,
“are you talking to your sister about me?” lux teases, smiling so wide her mouth could rip.
jinx is unadulterated prettiness in the noon sun, the light making her skin sparkle. her mouth opens to protest, then it closes again, then she looks away, pressing it into a thin line. “shut up,” she mumbles, even as the blush splatters across her cheeks and her lips threaten to curve up into a smile identical to lux’s.
lux bites her tongue. she’s really so cute, she thinks, and she lets out a sliver of a laugh. looking away, it turns shier, softer, realer. man, i’m screwed.
her response to that is to just grip the handles of her bike tighter, kick her feet onto the pedals again, and ride away. not that she’s trying to escape or whatever. she knows jinx will follow her; jinx is always a little less than far behind.
4. gave you away to the wind, i hope it was worth it in the end,
“you’re a fucking vampire, lux!” jinx yells, certainty underpinning her voice. “you just love sucking the fucking life out of people!”
lux shakes her head, eyebrows furrowed and eyes filled with tears to the brim.
-
“i have a feeling you know this already,” ms. medarda asks. the air in the room is chilly and piercing. “but jinx is not going to get better unless she’s doing it for herself.”
it’s hard. the fact hangs heavy on her like an anchor above her head, but despite it all, lux nods.
“yeah. i do.”
“were you ever angry about that?” ms. medarda asks again.
she shrugs, smile remorseful. “yeah.”
“why?”
she sighs. looks out the window while her hands stay in place in her lap, fiddling with one another. “i knew it wasn’t going to last, but she had such a good run at the time, and i liked her so much. and when she relapsed…” she looks back down, to her hands. “i just felt like it was unfair. to me.”
it takes a minute before ms. medarda speaks again. there’s a moment of contemplation, a sort of mask over her eyes. and when she finally does speak again, her mouth wraps around the words slowly, like she’s shaping them. “sometimes we can place our value in how much we can do for other people. and when that person rejects our help, we can feel like we weren’t enough for them. and then we don’t feel like we aren’t enough in general. do you get what i mean?”
clarification takes her heart, like a cool stream running over a crystal spark. the feeling is weird, it makes her chest tingle. but somehow, it feels familiar.
slowly, she nods. “yeah,” she answers, voice sounding a little scraped. like when she fell on the ground as a kid and her dad to pick her up and dust all the concrete grain off her knees and she cried ‘til the evening. “yeah, i think i do.”
“it can be frustrating, feeling like that.”
she laughs. runs a hand through her hair. “yeah. yeah, it is,” she admits. but it’s not in pain, or horror, for the first time in a long time. it’s just crystal streams, and early mornings, and her dad’s arms elbow-deep in attic boxes, and jinx’s smile as she wakes up on the opposite side of the bed.
-
“for all it’s worth, thank you.”
lux lifts her eyes to meet vi’s gaze, consciousness transported back into reality. the older sister has taken her hands off the guitar and is just resting her arms idly upon it, body rocking back and forth on the table. that’s a habit i’m familiar with, she thinks, and against her will, smiles. perhaps the two sisters share more in common than they think.
“i’m glad you came to me that day. jinx may not be, but…” vi’s eyes are sincere, empathetic. they offer a kind of understanding only lux can receive, only lux can relate to. “you’ve helped her a lot, whether she realizes it or not. it’s just gonna take her some time.”
she shakes her head. “i… that’s fine.” smile still on her face, small, “i can wait.”
vi nods. lets out a chuckle. “haven’t been able to do that lately. have had to do a lot of forgiving. and mending. but very little thank yous.” her eyes flick down in reflection, then flick up again. “so thank you for that too, i guess.”
some time passes. they stay in comfortable silence like that, remaining at their places in the room. then, when lux feels that it’s her time to leave, she speaks up again.
“i think she’ll love it,” she tells her. “you did a good job with it.”
vi grins. “i hope she does.”
5. you and my guitar, i think you may be my only friend,
jinx is struck frozen in her place against the wall, when she first hears the song.
vi sings with an ease. her fingers fly over the strings like she’s done this a thousand times, over and over. it’s an image jinx hasn’t seen for a very long time. the last time vi played the guitar…
they were so young. vander and silco were still alive then.
at the thought, little scrawls start appearing on the wall behind her sister. but even they’re pushed to the back of her mind as vi continues to sing, voice warm and strong. she sings the lyrics, and jinx repeats every line in her head- she knows this song so well, once knew it like the back of her hand…
6. i gave it all to see you shine again, i hope it was worth it in the end
she finishes the song, the ukulele shaking in her hands now. she gulps. “i’m…” she feels like she could cry under a powder blue gaze- “i’m really sorry, i planned like this huge gift for you but i never got to do it and i just tried this this morning, i know you like this song and i wanted to do something about what you liked-” she knows she’s rambling again but she can’t stop, and the tears threaten to fall out of her eyes, and her heart is pounding so hard and bad- why is it pounding so hard? it just feels natural, to her seven-year-old self, under her sister’s gaze.
i just don’t want you to hate me, she wants to cry, or think i’m being mean or bad on purpose, i know birthdays are supposed to be special-
vi’s gaze softens and her mouth draws into a pout, and before powder even knows it her sister is padding towards her and placing her awkward bulky hands on powder’s weird stringy arms. “oh, powder, don’t cry,” vi says, voice immediately shrouding the younger sister in a veil of comfort.
“i loved it. thank you so much.”
-
it feels like a promise, this little song between them. vi sings and sings, and it doesn’t even matter if some notes are wrong. jinx can’t stop the smile that creeps up on her face anyway.
memories exist outside of time, vander once told her. and they have no beginning or end.
memories flash through her mind, illuminated by the saturated yellow of a sun’s glow — vi’s hands running through jinx’s hair in the bath, ekko placing his painted hands flat against the paper beside her own, lux giggling beside her on the bed the first morning they met.
“i used to get angry when people would tell me ‘he died for a reason,’” jinx huffs. she frowns. “like he should’ve died in the first place, you know?”
ekko nods. “yeah,” he says, somberly. “i get that.”
she returns him a nod of her own, mute and slow. out of all the people in the world, ekko to agree with her… it feels right. and it feels right to share this with him now. “but now i feel like,” she starts to conclude. “i think they actually meant i’ve got to give it a reason, you know? like i’ve been holding onto this for so long,” the next words come out harder, but they’ve got to come out, she thinks- “and i can’t anymore. because i’ve been holding onto it so long that it hurts.”
her father’s silhouette over her, so angry and seething with regret — her father on his bed, looking so frail, and weak. jinx’s heart swinging like a pendulum, not knowing when to be scared of him or when to hate him or when to love him. it still makes a bit of a scrambled egg of her noggin’, really. but maybe viktor was right. maybe some things couldn’t ever really be solved. and that itself could be put into a box, somewhat. left in the back of her brain. a souvenir to remember but never large enough to take over her whole… her whole being.
“i know.” that’s the only thing ekko says to that. and jinx feels the relief wash over her heart. because yeah. he knows.
she cards this memory into the cassette in her head too, for safekeeping. remembers the line of vi’s silhouette, hunched over the guitar. the way the neck fits in her hand, how wiry the tune sounds. the light painted over their old kitchen, in a way jinx has never seen it do before.
she thinks, after all of it, yeah. it might have been worth it.
“thank you,” jinx tells her in the end. vi makes an expression that reminds her all too much of a lost puppy, like vander’s. it’s cute. it makes her laugh, a little. “i loved that, it was so good.”
7. us against the world, just a couple sinners making fun of hell,
“you know, i loved your play,” is the first thing jinx says when she walks into ekko’s room. she throws her keys onto his desk and raises an eyebrow at his position by the foot of his bed. “you sure you vacuumed that floor?” she asks, crinkling her nose in fake disgust.
she laughs as he rolls his eyes at her. “very funny,” he remarks, dryly. she makes her way to the shelf opposite him and slides down to the ground. the cold wood cuts into her back.
ekko looks away. “good that you liked my play,” he says. then with a shit-eating grin, continues with, “could you imagine if you hated it and mylo loved it?”
jinx laughs again. ekko laughs with her. this comes easily to her, nowadays — it’s always been easier with people around but it used to just be by nature, by obligation of the daily conversation that peppered itself with everyday jokes. but now, even with the nichest events, even when it’s just jinx herself, she finds her laughs grounded, real. like she could stretch out her hands and not feel them fading away in the moment.
when they’re done and the humor dissipates, jinx gets right down to it. “i appreciate it,” she muses. “what you… what you put into the play. i never saw myself that way before.”
the boy before her only nods, encouraging her to go on. so she does. “i just…” she frowns, stretching her fingers across the fabric of her jeans, hugging her knees closer to her chest. “i think it made me realize that i’ve been through a lot of shit, you know? like more than i can remember.”
she looks into his eyes. “but you did,” she exhales. “and seeing things from another perspective, it- yeah. like, it was so weird seeing it…” devoid of hate, she wants to say. it was so weird seeing it- seeing me still being your best friend. that my story ended right there. but i’m still…
“you here?” ekko asks, after a while.
she looks up. the planes of his face sharpen, clear in her vision. she nods. “yeah,” she chokes out. “yeah, sorry, zoned out for a bit.”
“all good, man. i didn’t know it was that serious,” he jokes.
she chuckles. then she lets go of her knees, gets on all fours, and clambers towards him. he protests in disgust at first, and then annoyance, but then he quietens down as she holds him in her arms, one hand on his shoulder and one ruffling his hair. “i love you, you know that?” she coos.
“get off me! you are so disgusting- ugh,” he concedes in the end. “i love you too,” it comes out a grumble.
“hmph,” her smile is triumphant. “i’m glad, you know,” she lays her head on his. “that you’re my best friend.”
ekko raises a hand. hesitantly, the pads of his fingertips touch her wrist. then he grips it fully, tender. like a baby clinging onto something for the first time.
he leans into her. smells like old burnt wood and an overused blanket. jinx breathes it in, tries to remember this feeling. it works, she thinks.
8. if i keep you here, i’ll only be doing this for myself
as the curtain closes, ekko still continues to hug sona tight. but his eyes keep trained on jinx’s, and his smile is bittersweet as jinx feels the tears stream down her face.
the crowd cheers. some people whoop and whistle. but all jinx can feel is how her mouth contorts and how her eyes are burning- she wipes her tears with the back of her hand, and then stands up, and claps her hands, and then everyone does it with her. then she wipes her tears again, and she cups her hands over her mouth, and she shouts, “ekko, you’re a fucking g!”
she doesn’t know if he can hear her, amidst all the noise. but it doesn’t matter, he always has. what’s one unsaid line between them if he can remember every sentence of their history together, written in the neat format of a school playbook?
9. i know this thing is broken, so i leave my door wide open,
when everyone leaves, blonde hair cascades in her sight. a weight sinks into the seat beside her.
“hey,” lux says, voice thick. jinx continues to stare at the closed curtains, eyes trailing across the creases. she leans back into her seat, heart relaxed.
no, lux was not a vampire.
“hi.”
lux was never anything to be scared of.
“i just wanted to say that i’m sorry.”
jinx nods. she doesn’t need any explanation for that.
“i’m sorry too,” she replies.
lux doesn’t say anything to that, just stares into the same place she is. but jinx can tell the unasked question lying on her tongue. what for?
not out of hate. or desperation. just pure curiosity.
“i know you did what was best for me,” jinx tells her. “and i forgive you. and i’m sorry i was so mad at you.”
lux nods.
“but the other thing… it might take a long time. i’ll get there, i think-” for myself, she mulls over in her head. when i’m ready.
lux nods at that too.
10. been some time since we’ve spoken, one day we’ll meet again,
the last of the students leave. the crew starts appearing at the bottom of the stage, discussing amongst themselves. some people start carrying the props out. “i also wanted to tell you,” lux starts.
jinx waits. beside her, she feels the blonde girl gathering her courage, building it inside of her. behind the curtains, someone is shouting to turn off the stage lights.
“i miss you,” lux confesses, finally. “and i love you.”
it doesn’t feel like a verdict. it doesn’t feel inevitable, or ominous, or a like an anchor hanging heavy over her head — lux reaches out, gingerly, to grasp jinx’s hand and run her thumb over the knuckles — it feels more like reassurance, an offer. open for jinx to take.
a scrawl. “i love you,” lux said once, holding jinx’s hand to her lips and pressing a kiss there, desperation leaking out of her eyes. like if she said that she could have kept her, convinced her to get on that train.
she blinks it away. “yeah?” she replies.
lux hums mirthfully, a signature smile hanging off her lips. “i’ll try as much as i can,” she admits.
no lies. no trying to shrug off the burden. one day, she thinks, she’ll be able to knock shoulders with lux and feel nothing crashing down on them.
11. some distance when you’re older, you’ll come lean on my shoulder
lux shivers in the chill of the A/C, trembles in anticipation for jinx’s answer.
jinx only smiles. turning towards her, she cups the blonde girl’s face and brings her closer, pressing her lips to her temple. like a feeling from all those months before, when lux had returned the favor in the kitchen where she used to comb her blue hair. she runs her fingers through blonde hairs, scratches at the scalp a bit. in the future, i could love you too, she tries to say. again.
she pulls away. lux looks at her, eyes wide. jinx shifts her gaze towards the clean tuft of hair on her neck, moves her hand there. it’s a new look, she hadn’t noticed that before.
she doesn’t comment on it. this time, she’s sure of her hesitation.
she stands up, walks towards the staircase. walks up towards the door. doesn’t look back.
12. tell me that storm is over, that day we meet again.
behind her, lux exhales, shaken.
jinx walks through the school corridors, rakes her eyes across the orange lockers until they blur into one pane in her head. her steps are steady, her strides light. her head is clear.
at the end of the tunnel, there’s a door. behind there, is daybreak.
as she swings it open and her converse sneakers slap across road gravel, she basks in the sun on her face. day’s still cold.
she tucks her hand into her pockets, and starts walking her way home. good day today. out of a buncha few days.
she cards it into her memories. to bring it with her no matter when, in the present.