Track 12: I See Red

1.

It was a dream, Madaline knew it was a dream.

She was standing in a field that belonged to her High-School, right outside the woods, where they would go to collect samples once and awhile for biology class, but the building in the distance was old Morgan Hall, Mis U, North Campus. Given that the field and Morgan Hall were supposed to be a couple hours away from each other, the reality that she was dreaming was the only possible conclusion, but the dream was also too boring for her to care.

There was a gaggle of faceless classmates around her and a professor going on about the Biosphere in a way that could make the world burning down from climate change seem excruciatingly dull and it just went on, time stretching out and dropping like bubblegum, pulled downward by gravity, growing thin, waiting to snap.

She began humming Iggy Pop’s No Fun, flicking the wheel of a lighter in her pocket, snap, snap, snap. Upon hitting the second verse, Madaline saw her, a hundred yards out, a streak of fluttering white moving through the misty day across the field.

Amber.

Amber is interesting. Amber going somewhere seemed like way more fun than this.

She slowly turned her head, glancing over her shoulder at the faceless instructor, going womp, womp, womp, like the teachers in the old Charlie Brown cartoons except with tenure. No Fun slid in her throat swiftly shifting into Vengaboy’s We Like To Party as Madaline walked off.

High School she thought to herself, Got to be High School. After all, why else would the teacher be yelling for her to come back.

Madaline thoughtlessly responded the way Madaline would have back in those halcyon days, she pointed a single finger upwards towards the sky in a salute to his ability to hold his students enthralled and broke into a sprint trying to catch up to Amber. Her head was still thrumming with music, blurring the last two tracks from her jukebox together, transforming Vengaboy’s joyously silly electronic jingle into an irreverent punk magnum opus.

She picked up her pace, grinning ear to ear, moving fast, way faster than she should be able to, giving chase, boots pounding across the green, any awareness of the strangeness of the situation slipping away, the kernel of knowledge that she was dreaming draining out as easily as water passing through a sieve.

The world flew by, raw and green, as she closed in, then Amber went up and over an ancient wooden fence, half broken down and low to the ground.

Madaline remembered that fence, 11th grade, she’d broken it with a little frustrated glee while taking a break from class to smoke a joint. But Amber didn't stop, instead barreling ahead into the foliage, her vaporous white dress vanishing into the brush, like she was a ghost.

Madaline hopped the fence with ease and entered the woods with far less art, smashing her way through, rushing to catch Amber, branches snapping, brambles catching in her hair, thorns snagging at her clothes, and the clothes felt a little odd, cause she no longer felt like a student, in pointed fact she no longer felt human. She felt like an animal, both more and less herself than she’d been in awhile; pursuer, tracker, stalker, nimrod, swift and brutal, beautiful and violent, the Goddess Diana.

She felt like a Lioness, her mouth full of sharp teeth and saliva as she moved through the brush, a veritable wall of verdant, towards Amber, cause she needed to catch Amber, she was going to catch Amber.

For a moment as she pushed through, her pace slowed by her arboreal obstacles there emerged the distant cognizance of a question; given that she absolutely would catch Amber, not just catch up, but catch her, like no question about that, she had to catch her and so she would, but that being her goal… what exactly was she planning to do when she caught her?

It didn’t matter, right now this furious need and the liberated ecstasy of moving towards her was all that counted. Cause she was going to catch her, she was going to, she was going to run her down and-

She burst through the brush into a clearing and almost went over, stopping herself because Amber wasn’t running anymore.

Amber was waiting. There she sat, reclined languidly on a huge rock by a babbling stream, her body stretched out, looking exactly like a dream in a long, white, diaphanous dress. Under the thin veneer of fabric her body was full and healthy, the finger tips of one hand trailed over the water, the stream running gently through them. She didn’t look like she had just busted through the woods in front of Madaline, she looked angelic, a vision of vitality and beauty.

Got ya! Need!

If Madaline looked like she was in a state, Amber didn’t show it. Her dark eyes weren’t frightened, but studied Madaline with appraising fascination.

“Hey,” Amber whispered, looking away as a little smile tugged at her lips.

“Hey,” Madaline said, respiring, unable to stop herself from grinning back, stepping forward, her whole body coiled in a terrible tension, with the urge to pounce on her, but then once again, the thought, and do what?

Don’t know. Doesn’t matter. I’ll figure it out when I’ve got her.

She stepped forward again, her teeth barred inside her smile. She seriously felt like someone had spinal tapped her with something hard and dangerous and speedy that left her mind racing with the most basic thoughts possible.

Amber just looked at her, waiting; still, passive, curious.

Madaline wondered why she was even waiting, Amber was right there less then ten feet away, close enough to catch, but still too far and if she didn't do something Amber could get away or worse someone else would obviously- Fuck them. Fuck that.

Step, the muscles in her leg moved again, preparing to rush forward, but Amber stopped her with four words.

“Are you a predator?”

Madaline almost went over again, she stood there, trying to answer, but could only say, “Am I what?” her voice lilting slightly.

“A predator? Are you a predator?” She asked again, blinking at her, still looking in no hurry to go anywhere.

It wasn’t accusatory, even if Madaline felt as accused as she does confused, indeed the relaxed casualness of Amber’s tone was part of what makes the question so disconcerting. How did she answer that, cause obviously no, she’d never wanted to be that, never tried to be that, never asked to be that, had worked hard not to be that, but what had she just been doing in one way or another, other than… she’d certainly felt like…

“Hey, bestie, if you’re going to sleep, you should move to your bed.”

2.

Madaline’s keyboard was on her desk. Madaline’s arm was across her keyboard. Madaline’s face was on her arm and between Madaline’s face and Madaline’s arm was drool. She pulled herself up with a groan and tried to discreetly wipe her face, rubbing at her eyes. She saw the hard work she had gotten done while Amber had been gone, a mountain of gibberish in the company’s code. “Oh goddammit.”

She’d started out with her arm in front of the keyboard, giving herself a break by leaning her head on her arm, just for a minute.

She and Amber had been staying up later, working their way through Cowboy Bebop, meanwhile Madaline's job had gone into overdrive last Friday, which meant a bonus, but also deadlines and problems, 90% of which seemed to be going to one person.

She looked at the mountain of gibberish, a veritable tower of babel and like God in the Bible she stroked two keys and made it vanish. First there is a mountain and then the mountain isn’t there, she thought blearily.

Askew on the desk were her headphones, they had clearly come off her head during the impromptu nap, their speakers were working their way through Kid Cudi’s Heart of a Lion. I seriously thought I was done with fucked up dreams.

“I thought you seemed like you could use a pick me up, so I got these for you at the grocery store. Do you want them now or do you want to go to bed?” Amber held out an energy drink and a roll of powdered donuts.

Madaline sucked her teeth, the second half of that question felt terribly loaded with the potential to incriminate herself.

“I’ll take them now, thanks princess,” Madaline took the drink and snack, cracking the can, drinking deep, the gears in her brain ungumming. She found her vape on her desk and dragged, there was barely anything left, flavorless, the experience like the rattle of a spray paint can gone empty. She flipped her hair and turned back to Amber, “Did you get my…”

Amber held out a plastic gas station bag, and rattled it, “One of every color that’s a fruit flavor.”

“Life saver,” Madaline took the bag, extracting a box with a blue vaporizer inside and ripped it open with her teeth. She popped the tip off, hit, exhaled, her brain swirling for a moment before sharpening once more, her nerves, jangled by her dream and the loss of time, steadied.

Amber slipped the list Madaline had given her out of her pocket, glanced at the open door, and settled on the edge of Madaline’s bed with her feet on the ground, instead of in the center where she sat most of the week with a book and her legs crossed.

Madaline scrolled through somebody’s botched code, her immediate priority was supposed to be fixing it up, salvaging/redoing before the investor meeting. If they landed some new ones she would receive a huge bonus and a pay raise, given that she was already spending the money she fully intended hell or high water that she would be getting that bonus. Boring ass shit, though.

She’d been getting along pretty well this morning, then she’d gotten jammed up right after Amber left, which was when she put her head down on her arm to rest and think, from there she’d been drawn down into sleep. She stared at the code, the programming shell’s cursor mocking her, a digital middle finger, but then bam... the solution came to her, an idea like a shotgun blast to the back of her head.

She cracked her back, took a hit, took a slug and went to work, her fingers flying over the keys, running herself to make up for lost time. First there is no mountain, there is no mountain, then there is. Her far improved code began to materialize, as well as her confidence that she was on track for spinning this tripe into gold. Madaline gave herself a mental pat on the back and felt a small wave of furious sorrow, it was a universal tragedy that Amber didn’t know anything about programming thus Madaline couldn’t properly show off how brilliant she was.

“Oh wait, fuck,” she spun her chair back to Amber once more. Amber hadn’t moved, like she’d been waiting for this. “Did you get-”

“Um, yeah, it’s all downstairs in a box by Simon’s staples.”

She handed the list over to Madaline, who began looking through what she’d requested earlier, “Everything?”

“Uh-huh.”

Madaline extracted a donut from the pack, ate it, extracted another and offered it to Amber and was pleased when she took it and began slowly eating after only a couple moments.

“Like I get refilling Simon’s stuff, but why did you need six bottles of Good Buck Bourbon?”

Madaline spun back to her keys and kept working as she answered, “Um, in… some amount of weeks, my friend is throwing a Kentucky Derby party, I wasn’t there last year so this year I want to make sure that I take care of the... main course, which is at least the first fill on the mint juleps bowl. Since I’m getting this bonus I figured I’d stock up for it now. ”

“What’s a Kentucky Derby party like?”

Madaline struck a wave of keys, “It’s an excuse to get trashed in fancy clothes while pretending you care about who wins an overrated horse race, mostly it's an excuse to get trashed in fancy clothes.”

“Oh. “

“It’s fun.”

The vague invitation, you should come, hung there right up until Madaline remembered how those parties usually ran from the morning of one day into the morning of the next, then she copied a few lines from the inferior code, tested them, made some changes and continued on building her mountain.

Amber for her part, had wanted the invitation, but wasn’t actually hoping to get it, so her brain moved to what interested her and mint juleps didn’t really ping on her radar, but what did was:

“So could we make more of… that one drink with what we have here? The one from Sweden?”

“Um,” more keys rapid firing, “You mean Fja- Ah, Yea- No, we’d need a couple more things but I can grab those… and cherries, so next time you're at the grocery store… wait you don’t like the cherries, scratch the cherries,” she deleted several lines of code and started over, scrolling through the incompetent work on her right for anything she could use to make her life slightly easier.

“I like cherries.” Amber said.

“You… do?”

“Yeah, what made you think I don’t?”

“Right, um-”

Flash: Amber in a short black dress, pressing cherries to her lips.

“I ah…”

Flash: Amber trailing her fingers in a stream, wearing a long white dress.

Madaline cooked up a lie, tried several times to get it to come out smooth and discovered she couldn’t.

Madaline can be a successful liar when she needs to be, except for when she was lying to a short list of people who made it difficult for her to pull off the craft of dishonesty with anything close to aplomb. It could still be done, but any attempt would result in a performance as poor as the code she'd inherited.

At some point without Madaline realizing it, Amber had, the same way she often went many places, quietly slipped herself onto that list. This puts me in a tricky fucking spot.

She switched to her methods of dealing with the occupants of the list, the ones available in this set of circumstances was either refusing to serve anything at all, truth or falsehood, or by plating the truth in a hyper specific way. “Um, I’m going to level with you princess, pretty sure you said it to me in a dream now that I think about it.”

“You dream about me?” Amber said, surprised.

“Uh-huh,” she leaned into her computer, typed, waited. “Why, you don’t dream about me?”

“Oh, I, um, I don’t really dream very much or I guess I don’t remember them,” Amber said. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine, some people remember their dreams, others don’t.”

“What- um- what do you dream about me?”

“Ah, you know just...”

Flash: Amber’s platform boot on her lap.

“Hanging out. Nothing… too weird.”

Flash: rushing through the underbrush, hunting.

“Huh, actually sounds kinda weirdly mundane for dreams, but I guess your life is really interesting so maybe your brain likes the downtime.” There was a hint of hopefulness in her voice.

“I mean that’s an interesting theory.”

Flash: A few dozen dreams, self induced, experienced while fully or nearly fully awake; dreams of smooth flesh, black hair, thin wrists, dark eyes, warmth, breath, spit, moans, teeth, heat, nails, screams, and all of it burning.

Fuck I might have a serious problem… no… I’m just being…. Get your head in the game… I just need to keep that shit for when the doors closed... Think Bonus... Think Python bitch, Python….

She moved more code from the original file, made a few minor fixes, checked again, good, that was good, this was a good first run at the base of the mountain. Except… for the sake of her bonus maybe she should cheat. Yes, cheating was more than justified.

She copied what was needed into a separate file and secured it with AES and left the decryption keys in a new file labeled DECRYPTWTHME on her desktop, from there she logged into Lock:Key, planting the chat window open on the least used of her monitors.

MARIANA-CROSS: Hey puppy, you busy?

LEGION_SLAYER: bout to stream in like 2 hours

MARIANA-CROSS: You prepped for it?

LEGION_SLAYER: yep

MARIANA-CROSS: Then you got time, pen test this for me and tell me how long it takes.

Madaline sent the encrypted file.

LEGION_SLAYER: cant dont have the decryption keys

MARIANA-CROSS: They're sitting on my desktop.

LEGION_SLAYER: u kicked me out of your machines on threat of being locked member.

Madaline cracked a finger and sighed.

MARIANA-CROSS: I do and I also know there’s no way you didn’t leave a backdoor back on and given that I haven’t gotten a minute to find it and shut you out, you can easily get the decryption keys.

LEGION_SLAYER: LMAFO

MARIANA-CROSS: I know I’m hilarious, but what’s so funny?

LEGION_SLAYER: im already feeling really shut out tbh

When Madaline glanced back at the screen with the messaging window her fingers came to a fast halt on her keyboard, she read the message over five times, and sighed again, rubbing her palms together. She hit her vape, for the first time since she entered, Amber’s presence left her immediate awareness.

She tapped her finger on the head of her vape, trying to work out what this was exactly.

MARIANA-CROSS: You alright bimbo?

LEGION_SLAYER: yeh fine

No term of endearment, no joke, nothing explicit, nothing playful or cute, no antagonism, no deluge of randomness with the occasional stabbing by the suddenly uncomfortably astute, no trying to rope Madaline into a game.

Fuck.

That wasn’t playing sullen, that was just sullen, that wasn’t just missing Madaline, that was feeling dejected. It was new, it was weird.

She opened her address book and checked her favorites.

E’s chat was closed, meaning she was probably heading to class, she flipped back to the other chat. She looked over their messages, hunting for the problem the way she’d hunt for Amber a bug in her code, but she couldn’t find anything, it made no sense, there was no reason she should be upset. Madaline thought hard, she was having trouble with Madaline not being around as much, but she hadn’t been upset like this when she was in Sweden or any other time when Madaline was scarce.

Lacking a clear answer to the issue, two separate urges charged forward and crashed into each other: the urge to apologize immediately despite not being sure what she’d done and the urge to never apologize for anything no matter what. Upon impact these urges scrapped like rabid felines.

Wait, maybe-

Madaline went into her hidden files and decrypted a highly protected document and returned to the chat.

MARIANA-CROSS: Cherry. Where are you?

LEGION_SLAYER: home told u im streaming later

MARIANA-CROSS: Right, just checking.

MARIANA-CROSS:What arrangement are you on?

LEGION_SLAYER: 3

Madaline checked the listing in the file, read through E’s notes, okay so all her meds were normal, meaning this situation was absolutely abnormal. The ray of hope that had come in on the idea that the issue was medical went out and one of the two urges took control, while the other continued to scream in the background.

Madaline picked the next words she typed very carefully.

MARIANA-CROSS: I know that you’ve been missing me and I miss you too, but it really is just a few more months, regardless, whatever the problem is, or maybe whatever I’ve done, I’ll fix it. If it's just that you’re having a bad day I can be over for a few hours after like 6 or 7, your stream will be done by then, I’m going to have to work, this week is tough, but I can work there for a bit tonight, you can help or not help, depending on how you’re feeling, but I will come over.

Madaline waited.

LEGION_SLAYER: just tonight????????

MARIANA-CROSS: Like I said, this week is tough, but I will make sure that I’m around a little more frequently in the evenings on weekdays starting next week, okay, and if you’re not busy you can come when E takes me to my thing the day after tomorrow, so I’ll see you then too.

Madaline groaned internally, having typed herself into remembering that trial lying ahead, she put it out of her mind, one issue at a time.

She waited, then finally the alert came in.

LEGION_SLAYER: so cute

LEGION_SLAYER: Daddy made me a kids sudoku

Fucking bitch, I will fucking...

This was decidedly an improvement in her friend’s disposition.

MARIANA-CROSS: So you say, go on and impress me bimbo.

She waited for a response, she didn’t get one, she went back to her code and kept on with the next stage. Twenty minutes passed.

LEGION_SLAYER: ur code is shit Maddy

MARIANA-CROSS: I’m working with what they gave me, trying to fix it.

LEGION_SLAYER: not good enough 13m12s

She sent Madaline an explanation of the vulnerabilities she'd exploited and a couple more she could have but hadn’t had to, her documentation read like hand written lyrics with jam notes in the margins, Madaline felt a familiar swell of affection for her and a skull splitting level of frustration.

MARIANA-CROSS: Right, okay, I see.

LEGION_SLAYER: want me to just fix it up for u

MARIANA-CROSS: No. I want you sit there, play your steam deck and look pretty while I make it better. Then I want you take another go at it and see if we can get that time up to a half hour.

LEGION_SLAYER: y a half hour

MARIANA-CROSS: Cause it means it'll take weeks, at best, for anyone who's not a mutant.

LEGION_SLAYER: whats to stop me from wasting time in round 2 so I get all the attention tonight

MARIANA-CROSS: So that’s a yes you would like me to come over?

LEGION_SLAYER: yes plz

MARIANA-CROSS: Ok I’ll be over around 7, to answer your question I’ll know if you do and I’ll punish you in a way you won’t like AND you won’t be able to call my code shit.

LEGION_SLAYER: how about I do it on stream Ill do it naked with a vibe

MARIANA-CROSS: Tempting, but this is sensitive, so no, this cannot end up out in the wild, puppy.

LEGION_SLAYER: to bad

MARIANA-CROSS: So sad, I’ll bring you ice cream, what kind do you want?

LEGION_SLAYER: strawberry ty Daddy remember vegan tho.

MARIANA-CROSS: yw puppy.

LEGION_SLAYER: are you still fixing it I’m waiting

MARIANA-CROSS: you know you talk a lot of shit for a girl who’s most likely going to be negotiating for an orgasm later. Give me thirty minutes to an hour, play your deck.

LEGION_SLAYER: k luv u.

MARIANA-CROSS: Luv you too, thank you for your help. Hack the Planet!

LEGION_SLAYER: Maddy I can still see ur code and im not sure you could hack a cough

Madaline stopped herself from retorting and minimized the window. She hit her pen, letting the vapor roll out of her mouth as she strapped her headphones back on and was met by the referentially appropriate track, The Joker by Josh Abrahams.

She returned to work, sometimes having a cursed music collection was alright. It wasn’t until over two minutes into the song and back into the flow of work, that she caught a hint of citrus in the air.

Amber’s eyes popped into her head, Madaline's fingers tangled themselves to a stop once more. That doesn’t happen very often.

She turned back around, sliding her headphones back off. She got a nasty, if increasingly familiar, jolt in her stomach seeing Amber waiting quietly on the edge of her bed.

“Sorry, I have to stick to this and get this done, sucks up a lot of my bandwidth. I didn’t mean to just leave you sitting there, I mean it's fine if you want to chill like always but you look like you… got... something else? A problem?”

Amber worried at her lip, her half eaten donut still in her hand.

Madaline pointed to it, “Please finish that for me princess.”

Amber looked away, looked back at her.

“You're fine, you’re better than fine.”

Amber popped it in her mouth, chewed and swallowed.

“Good girl.”

Amber smiled.

“Okay, so what’s up?”

“Well, um, I hate to do… look… you,” she took a deep breath, “I got your vapes, that went fine, but when I tried to get the alcohol.”

“Right,” Madaline sighed in immediate comprehension, she was at the end of her paycheck and spending money she hadn’t been paid yet, then to cap things off she’d sent Amber out with her card to pick stuff up for her when she hadn’t moved anything from her savings. “Declined?”

“Mmmhmm, sorry, I put it on my card and I know you usually pay a lot for me when we do stuff and... I would just you know do something nice for you for once, but it was a lot of liquor and it burnt up my whole allowance and like I’m really in the red and I need at least 70 for my meds this week.”

“Right yeah, no and you do plenty of nice stuff for me, it’s fine, I’m happy to pay for you when we… do stuff.”

Madaline turned back to her computer, hit her vape, pushed the chair back and began feeling around under the far back of the underside of the desk. “Ah, how much do I owe you, whole thing, what was the bill?”

“It was $202.00. I only really need like 132.00 to cover the overdraft and my meds and stuff.”

“No, I’ve got you, just need to move money, sorry I forgot that before sending you out, is cash okay? Found it.” Madaline ripped the envelope off the bottom of the desk and pulled it out, turning back to her. She opened the envelope, “By the way unless I’ve been really stupid, there’s usually about $500.00 in this envelope, I tape it under the desk, in case you need it for an emergency or you need… anything. Just let me know if you take whatever.”

Madaline licked her finger tip and counted out eleven crisp bills from the wad and began to pass them to Amber, looking up at her half way through the motion, at Amber who was sitting in just one of what seemed her endless repetition of worn out dysphoria hoodies long after she should have phased them out for the most part. That image and the piece of information that had bounced off Madaline’s brain at first, slammed together like a pair of atoms in a smasher.

Madaline’s hand drew back.

Amber halfway to receiving the money pulled away in response.

Madaline blinked, “I’m… I’m sorry,” Is this proof, fuck my life, if this is proof, I don’t want it to be true or maybe I do, but if I was right, fuck him, fuck them, I was fucking right, She tried to slow her mind down, she needed to do it now, before the feelings hit. First things first she needed to make sure she’d actually heard Amber say what she thought she had. “What…” she swallowed, “What did you just say?”

“Um, I just need enough for my meds and to cover the overdraft,” Amber looked her over, “Like I can move my other stuff.”

“No,” Madaline said, low, slow, calm, “Before that.”

Amber seemed honestly uncertain as to what Madaline was getting at. “I…, just, that the money and that we’re friends, but you’re always...”

Madaline rubbed a temple, and leaned forward, her fingers flicking, “Amber, did you use the word allowance?”

Amber’s eyes went up, thinking, then back to Madaline, “Yeah, I mean, yeah, you know a budget.”

“Is it a budget or an allowance?”

Madaline could feel her pulse ticking faster in her wrist.

Amber looked away, when she looked back, Madaline snagged her gaze and held it.

“It’s… it’s the same thing?”

“No. They aren’t.”

Amber’s brow furrowed, her finger began dragging itself softly forward and back on the sheets of Madaline’s bed, “Are you um... okay? You seem… a little… a little off?”

“Fine, yeah, I’m good,” Madaline's tongue flickered over the sharpness of her bottom teeth.

There was a crack at Madaline’s side.

Amber’s eyes shot down at Madaline’s left hand, then back up.

“Don’t worry, I’m not mad.”

“Good, but, I mean I guess yeah, they’re like… by technicality, a little different, every allowance is a budget, you know, but not every… not every budget is an allowance, but I just… I guess I used the wrong word.”

“Amber, does Simon have you living off an allowance?”

Amber nodded slowly. “Yes... he handles the financial stuff, it’s like division of labor, you know, he’s better at it, he works in insurance,” she giggled, scratching harder

Madaline breathed through her nose and reached, making sure to do it slowly, putting her hand over Amber’s, “I’m not mad at you, you are absolutely not in… trouble in any way shape or form, but I need you to tell me how this... system... works.”

“I mean, you know, it’s like I said he handles it, I don’t really, I mean I don’t have to figure out my taxes or anything, it’s really convenient.”

“Amber, tell me how it works, do you have separate accounts?”

“No, why would we, we’ve been together for… we share bills and I have a lot-”

“Explain it to me.”

“Okay, um, I work at the coffee shop, he works at Alwel Insurance, my paycheck and his go into a shared bank account.”

“What about tips, your tips?”

“Me and my co-workers split them, and then I make sure I have enough cash for an emergency-”

“How much is for an emergency?” The money in Madaline’s one hand now felt very heavy, like a fistful of gold instead of paper notes.

“Like ten bucks, just enough for like a little bit of gas or to pay for a phone call, not that there's a lot of places where you can... or like for the bus, you know enough money for an,” she shrugged, “emergency.”

“What happens to the rest?”

“It goes in the bank? And then he does the budget and pays the bills, his and mine, and when need be he allocates… money for other stuff I need, which goes into a sub account and that’s my… allowance.”

“Need be, what do you mean by when need be?”

“When need be, when I... need it, when I ask for more?”

Madaline’s pulse ticked down ever so slightly, “How often do you ask for more?”

“Once a month, just about, it depends.”

“How much does he give you?”

“It depends on what I need, I tell him and he-”

“Ballpark it,” it came out with a shave of sharpness, she watched Amber’s eyes twitch. Madaline softened her tone, “Please.”

“Like- usually, like... a hundred. Sometimes less, it depends, more when I have to go to the doctor or blood work. That stuff is, you know, it’s expensive.”

Madaline’s ears were ringing; black smoke was broiling up from her heart, filling up her head. It felt divine.

Roughly six months from this point Madaline will realize the handful of questions she failed to ask during her entire time with Amber and Simon, most of all she will think about how she asked all these questions of Amber on this day and how the one question who’s mere presence would dispel so much doubt is the one she needed to ask in this moment, but didn’t.

In the future Madaline leans on the railing of her apartment’s balcony looking down into the street as cars drive through the traffic light below, standing in the autumn night, shaking with hatred for herself, thinking of this moment, thinking of the words she should’ve said, the question she should have asked; entering the same emotional geography she is now edging close to in the present, the same, but worse.

In the present, Amber is still talking, but Madaline can barely hear her.

“...like, I get it, now that you call attention to it, I guess it’s a little juvenile to call it that, but you’re right technically, that’s what it is, he budgets me an allowance.”

The worst thing about it is she’s not panicking, sure she’s nervous, but if the day they talked about the eating disorder was Amber at a ten, a total freak out, this is at worst a three, she was responding to Madaline’s sudden state of tension and maybe some sort of misplaced embarrassment, not because she saw what’s wrong with this picture.

She doesn’t understand, Madaline thought of Amber’s father. Of course she doesn’t. The thought makes the smoke grow darker, coalescing into a pitch black thunderhead.

Flash: Other fantasies Madaline’s had involving Amber, far less frequent, but no less simultaneously frustrating and gratifying. Amber herself did not always feature in these, when she did they were much more... wholesome... in a certain sense, but when Amber wasn’t in them they often instead involved things such as Madaline visiting the Orlet household with a gas can.

Can’t expect to get everything I want in life, but if he gives me a good reason I’ll happily settle for breaking Simon’s legs. Please Sim give me a reason, please, god I need to break something.

Then in her head, a glint of wide thick glasses, trying to break through the smoke, the voice of her friend, ever clinical and analytical, surely here to ruin the utter certainty and righteousness that had escaped Madaline for far too long: Okay, I agree this is a crimson flag moment, but slow down for a minute, you need to be careful, you need to make sure this isn’t a misunderstanding or paranoia or a self serving narrative to assuage your own-

Bullshit, she is always broke, look at her fucking clothes. That’s what you and mom said, that’s exactly what you two said, I was paranoid, that I was just trying to justify myself. Fuck no, E, you know what they don’t teach you in your psych classes? That the numbers are fucked up.

Madaline patted Amber’s hand once more, rising from her chair, she pressed her voice to sound reassuring, she tried to make herself smile, but couldn’t quite manage it and gave up for now.

She turned back to her desk, tossing the money aside, totally disinterested. She picked up her phone, then caught notice of the monitor where she’d left her unfinished code, suspended in composition, halfway through a string, now downgraded from top priority to least important thing in the world.

Thinking, she leaned into the keyboard and attended to the chat.

MARIANA-CROSS: Hey, don’t worry about the code, I might be over there a little earlier than I thought, I’ve stumbled into a bit of a situation. It’s complicated, don’t worry, have a good stream.

She closed the chat, and selected a two hour playlist of dreampop from her phone and returned her attention to Amber.

In a lot of ways this simplified so many of the issues that had been plaguing her.

She needed to hurry though and get Amber to agree to stay out of things. However the confrontation went, whether or not Madaline got to do anything physical, she could already feel herself primed and ready to go off, pin out of the grenade, counting down towards an explosion.

E’s voice came smashing through her thoughts again, like a bird trying to fight with a hurricane: Stop being fucking selfish you crazy bitch, don’t do this, you know how this goes.

Madaline thought of Amber's clothes, thought of how she worked a sliver away from full time but was always totally broke.

I can’t look at her clothes Maddy, goddammit, you won’t bring her to meet me.

Madaline was very happy to know that was now changing.

Listen psycho killer, you're not thinking clearly and you aren't qualified to judge this, cool the fuck off and come talk to me, come down to Mis U, bring her with you, grab the cash and tell her the two of you are going to the bank to deposit it, do that and then on your way stop off at Mis U and yank me out of class and let me talk to her, let me run a questionnaire, get her to resources if need be, they'll be right there.

It was a good idea, part of her knew that it's what she should do, but Simon is downstairs and she's waited long enough, over two years being told she's the bad guy-

Goddamnit, it's stuff like this that makes you sound like the bad guy Maddy, this is the behavior that makes it seem like self just- Okay, fine. Never mind, talk to Amber first then, explain what you think he’s doing, at least wait to do this when she’s not in the house or get her to go back out by herself. She will be terri- Madaline silenced that thought, silenced E's voice, like yanking a TRS connector out of a stereo, that thought was the way towards sanity and Madaline didn’t want to be sane, she wanted to smash something, or at least push into a situation where the opportunity might occur, to finally have all the doubt cleared away, no more complications, no regret. He deserves it and whether I’m a good person or bad (bad person, she knows she’s a bad person) regardless, in any world that’s got half a microgram of sanity they would give me a fucking award for the public services I provide, Madaline ranted to herself.

She could try sending Amber back out, but trying to accomplish that, trying to get Amber out the door felt so difficult, time consuming, no, she'd be safe up here, she just needed to stay here, away from whatever happened, and away from Simon. The best course of action was to provide a basic explanation of what Madaline was going to do and why Amber should remain upstairs, rather than having to try pretending everything was fine and that Amber should run to the bank right now. Madaline was too far in and didn't think she could work anything else.

She tried to smile again, counting away from ten and managed it this time. She handled her headphones, trying to keep her movements smooth and not the jerky jolts of quickness that came with an adrenaline flood and blood lust.

Madaline tapped her headphones in her hands, mulling things over, the smoke thinning for the moment, just a little.

Amber was eyeing her, concerned, weary.

I could give her a Xanax or something, god knows she deserves it, might knock her out and make leaving easier. But no in that scenario she’d have to cart Amber out and then have her wake up somewhere she’s never been, not knowing what’s going on. Nevermind this will have to do. I can’t wait anymore.

She moved forward and slid her headphones over Amber’s neck, pleased when Amber didn’t pull away.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

“Princess, I’m going to explain everything, but I want you to sit here for a little bit and listen to some music, it’s ah, dreampop, good stuff, relaxing, right.”

Amber eyed her, searching. “Madaline I don’t understand, your acting so… what are you going to do?”

“I am going to,” break his fucking face on my knee “have a quick talk with Simon and then I am going to come back up and we're going to- talk about... some things.” After that I am fucking leaving, fuck my work space needs and you are not fucking staying here.

Amber looked horrified, “What- No. Madaline, he’s napping. It’s his day off.” It came out as a whisper as though she expected Simon to hear them from his chair downstairs and return to consciousness.

That was really good, music to Madaline’s ears, he wouldn’t hear her coming.

“I’ll just have to wake him up.” Madaline said evenly while imagining gently waking her step-brother for this conversation with a boot to the throat.

Which, unfortunately, was probably pure fantasy, a wonderful fantasy, nearly euphoric, but she wasn’t leaving any chance that she would be considered the bad guy, not this time, other matters aside she still had to make Amber understand, so allow herself to blow up, oh Satan yes, she needed it, she was so close already and she was fucking entitled to it, but it would be a controlled explosion and she would only escalate to something physical if he gave her an excuse.

The fact that she was going to go down there craving an excuse was beside the point.

“Leave these on for me Amber, I can’t promise,” not to fucking kill him, “that this isn’t going to turn into an argument.”

Amber looked at her wide eyed, her head twitching back and forth on her neck. She settled the headphones over Amber’s ears, keyed the music up to medium volume and provided Amber a reassuring smile. “Just listen to the music, everything is going to be okay.”

For a moment Amber looked up at her, she stopped looking worried and confused and instead looked, well, she looked almost enthralled, but it didn’t last, of course it didn’t, she’d lived a life where nothing had ever been okay, well, it was fine for her to doubt cause that ended today.

Madaline watched it happen, it was familiar, Amber thinking hard, her eyes flickering, her mind likely racing, not going blank, instead caught up in internal deliberation and intrusive thoughts. She’d probably picked up on the tune of what Madaline believed, but was having trouble overcoming the disbelief that that’s what Madaline thought Simon was doing.

Madaline didn’t have much time, she took the chance it gave her, once things got started she was fairly certain Amber would stay put rather than try to inject herself into a blow out fight between them, likely would sit with the headphones until it was over, but Madaline had to get down there now.

Moving towards the door, her jukebox clicked on, put down a record and began to play and oh, blessed wonderful mental jukebox, it always knew just what she was in need of.

Earlier, she’d slept through Kid Cudi’s Heart of a Lion, but this track was from Scott Mescudi’s darker, sophomoric masterpiece:

First, a backbeat like a fist knocking against hollow wood, then tinkling music box chimes electronically distorted, oh yeah, if Simon remembered maybe he’d even appreciate the symmetry of then versus now, finally the vocals entered, not so much of a rap, more of a singalong. “I'm off on adventures.”

Flash: A memory, Madaline freshly seventeen, 5 days post suspension, roughly 1 day post successfully being scooped out of lockup by mom and taking a 6 month probation deal. Sitting stoned on the couch watching music videos selected by an algorithm between periodically popping out back to keep smoking up the rest of her stash before she has to start dropping the following Monday. Her lips were fat with multiple healing splits, her left eye was black, her nose had been reset, her fists were wrapped in bandages, and the rest of her body was peppered with bruises, but hey, everyone should see the guys on the opposite side of this obvious equation. Last she’d heard, Mickelson was still in the hospital.

The music video that was on when Simon entered the living room, back from school, featured a man (Mescudi) breaking into what appeared to be a dilapidated mansion; multiple floors filled with screaming people, out for blood and wielding improvised blunt weapons; pipes, bats, chains, boards. All observed from the highest floor by the mob’s leader whose face went unseen.

Simon sat down next to her. “Hey Maddy.”

“Hey Sim, how was school?”

“Pretty good, me and Evan got your homework,” he unpacked a folder from his bag and passed it over to Madaline. “Oh and congratulations by the way, it’s official, exactly what you always wanted, you’re a legend.”

“Bitchen,” she grumbled, opening the folder to look inside and sighed, “Even more bitchen, more Shakespeare. Don’t see why they can’t just put this all online for me."

“They can, I think they just like giving students more work.”

"Hmm," she drummed her fingers. "You said Evan helped? Evan Phipps? Kid with the glasses?"

"Yeah, got your morning classes, before they thought to tell me. Didn't know you two were friends."

"Neither did I, but apparently he's my own personal Jesus or doing his best anyhow, hope he doesn't have a crush." She huffed, flipping the folder shut, “Alright. Fill me in, what are people saying?”

“Lots of stories about you being a bad kid, like half of them are true.”

“Very cool. Very Joe Strummer.”

“Uh-huh, mostly though they’re saying that on Saturday you went on the warpath and ran around town, attacking fifteen people between noon and 6 AM Sunday which was around the time you finally got arrested, after that your fancy lawyer mommy got you out of trouble while Mickelson and Jaeger aren’t playing sports any time soon.”

“Got to love 5-0's threat response time, thank fuck there wasn’t some sort of crazy violent transgender running around. What’s wrong with Jaeger, I didn’t break anything on him I don’t think, though my memory is pretty sketchy about anything past five, but I think, I hit him like twice at most then he ran away before I could do anything else.”

“Personally, I think he’s using this as an excuse to get off a team he doesn’t want to be on, spend more time with his girlfriend.”

“Can’t blame him for that. Gretchen is really cute.”

“Hmm, so how many was it really?”

“Eight in batches of three, one, and four.”

He shook his head, “Look, I get it, I’m on your side, so I get it, the transphobia-”

“And misogyny.”

“Sure, and the misogyny, but why’d you-”

“They all started it, I just decided to manage my time efficiently and finish it in one day.”

The siblings watched the screen, in the music video the leader dropped a torch to fall through the levels to the bottom floor and the piece really kicked off, Mescudi springing up the stairs, going at the mob with nothing but his fists, fighting his way upward through the floors against a torrent of people.

Simon laughed from his belly, “Oh fuck, oh Jesus Christ, it’s you, did you pick this?”

Madaline sighed, “That’s right, that’s me, Ms Rager, reliving all my bloody glory. No, the algorithm just seems to like mocking my lot in life.”

The mob began to overwhelm Mescudi, battering him and finally restraining him. In the end the leader approached, gutting Mescudi with a large knife as he embraced him, the leader’s identity at last revealed to be Mescudi himself.

Madaline found the finale of the video to be rather unsettling for some reason.

Simon zipped up his bag as the video ended, getting ready to head upstairs, he patted Madaline on the back, hitting a bruise, making her wince. “Fuck Ms Rager, I’ve been trying all day to make Hurricane Madaline a thing.”

Madaline couldn’t help but laugh, “Yeah, no, fucking do it, make it happen, I like that.”

3.

There was a time when Madaline thought, “Hurricane Madaline,” was meant with affection, but right now it was so very easy to imagine something malicious had always been behind it. Little weasel didn’t even have the temerity to be upfront about what he actually believed so people could call him on it.

Still, while the flicker of memory didn’t make the smoke thin, it did slow her steps towards the stairs, delaying her because, yeah, it was Simon, Simon who had done this to Amber, had maybe… hell, probably...

But that Simon was also the same Simon who’d been her only friend when everyone else had bailed, when she’d had no one, Simon was there and the clearness of that idea finally brought her to a halt above the steps.

Simon, who she once counted near the top of the very short list of cis het men, who weren’t musicians, that Madaline considered worthy of her good will and consideration.

Madaline’s jaw worked. She cracked her knuckles.

Was there a reasonable explanation for this? Anything? She didn’t want there to be, but a part of her, a small screaming part, did. It would be so much easier… but… just… was there? Yes, an allowance could be a reasonable thing if one partner had a gambling problem or something like that. Which Amber did not.

Or, an allowance system could also be part of certain kinds of BDSM games, healthy ones. Which… could that be… no whatever was going on here it wasn’t that. If that’s the kind of thing she likes I’d give her a way bigger allowance, she thought petulantly. No, this was exactly what it looked like.

Okay, there, now I’ve done enough fucking due diligence, time to have some fun. She put her foot on the top stair, but it was too late, she’d given Amber enough time to collect her thoughts and she wasn’t staying put, she was yanking Madaline back up off the step.

“Madaline, don’t, wait, just wait, just listen, you don’t- you don’t think he’s stealing from me right?” It wasn't quite panicked nor was it that frighteningly agreeable and cheerful calm that had befallen her for a moment at the table the other day, where she’d almost convinced Madaline.

“Go back and listen to the music Amber, it’s really good.”

“No, that’s not- Do you think he’s stealing from me? I keep going over it and that’s all I can think of that you might be thinking and that’s-”

“It’s something like that, go back to my room, I’m just going to talk to him. It might be… intense and I don’t want to upset you if I can avoid it.” Manipulation, control, it’s about control.

“No, you’re going to fight with him.”

Only if Satan really loves me and it won’t be much of a fight, less fight, more massacre.

Her free hand is balled in a fist, her knuckle bones stretching the skin tight, her other hand is attached to the arm Amber still has, gently trying to pull her back towards the room.

Madaline isn’t moving, but she’s also not descending either.

“Madaline, listen, how can you think that about him?”

It’s a small cut, but still a cut, too close to her own thoughts of hers and Simon’s former relationship before she’d fucked everything up, but given the girl holding tight to her arm, she’d do it again and do it faster, not to mention she’d do far worse. Madaline almost answers honestly, single word explanations; pattern, statistics, probability, numbers.

She looked down at Amber, dead set on keeping Madaline from going down. It was either deal with Amber first and risk losing all this beautiful rage or yank her arm away and have her follow her down to whatever happened.

Anyone would tell Madaline, that even if she were completely in the right she was handling this in the totally wrong way and she knew that, but it had been years... for years she’d had to remind herself she had no evidence, for years two people she cared about told her she was paranoid or worse she was justifying herself in post, she didn’t want to wait anymore, she deserved this, dammit. But Amber was hanging on...

She took a deep breath and counted back from thirty, some smoke cleared out, she looked to Amber, “Okay, okay, no, I don’t want to think that of him, so I’m listening, one reason Amber, one good reason why you should be on an allowance, why you should have to ask to spend your share of the funds in a relationship, why he has the ability to decide whether or not you need something, explain it to me. Go on.”

“Okay, I think- I can do that, can we go back to your room-”

“No, explain it right now.”

Amber swallowed. She gave Madaline a very very strange look and began, “We, he and I, it- it was a discussion at one point, at, at the start…”

“Right, that he talked you into it isn’t helping his case.”

“It’s not like he spends it on himself, he’s not buying a car with my paycheck or whatever, he’s frugal, responsible.”

Madaline thought about telling her that it wasn’t about spending her money, it wasn’t about what he could buy with it, it wasn’t about managing finances, it was about managing her through managing finances. Instead she settled for, “Still not an explanation, Amber.”

Amber looked at her confused and wide eyed and kind of like Madaline was making her say something she didn’t want to say, shaking her head in disbelief. “Madaline, I don’t- why- Madaline, I blew up my life.”

For the first time, this was something Madaline didn’t expect.

Amber kept on, “I blew up my life in a… two month run of… suicidal optimism, that ended with-”

Madaline watched Amber’s face.

Oh godfuckingdamnitmotherfuck!

Amber had gone blank, staying gone for around ten seconds, just enough time for Madaline to string together a stream of curses and for a few softer emotions to flutter their way through her.

Amber bounced back,“Um…it- it- it-” Amber glanced quickly around the hall, at Madaline, catching herself back up to where she was, “It… um... ended with me losing everything.”

Then Amber, unbeknownst to her, said the thing that shut down the furnace inside of Madaline, all it took was seven words, seven words that ripped Madaline’s heart in half, “If you had known me back then, if we’d been friends, if I told you about my dad would you have let me go through with coming out the way I did, or would you tell me that I was…" blank for another five seconds, "Being suicidally optimistic.”

Madaline tried so hard to hold onto the righteous fury, she wanted to keep it so bad, to use it, for it to go somewhere, but it was slipping away back down inside her and she felt cold and sick and empty and like she was about to do something stupid.

“I do things like that sometimes, not usually that bad, but I did one time, I did and I lost everything and you know, I lost my whole life. It was Simon’s idea, but I agree, cause I could do it again, I don’t know, blow all the money we’ve got on what seems like a really good idea, just a moment of impulse.”

Madaline’s jaw worked, she found herself being led back to her room.

They sat on the bed. Amber was still talking, explaining. She’d found the words and they were coming now and Madaline listens, until Amber’s talked enough and goes quiet and waits for her response. For a few Madaline said nothing, her brain passing the words back and forth, “If you had known me back then…” But somewhere in there, they got spliced together with, “Are you a predator?” Madaline had an answer now: Yes, I’m sorry, I can’t help it, I try, I really try, but I can’t help it.

When the echo cleared her head, Madaline licked her lips, “Right, okay, so if that’s the case, if we go down to dinner tonight and ask him he’ll give you a budget to get some new clothes, clothes you actually like.”

“My clothes-”

“You hate them.”

“Yeah… okay… yeah, I do.”

“He’ll do it, he’ll allow you the money for that, because it’s your money?”

“Well, it’ll have to be a conversation, like I said, he’s frugal.”

“But in the end he will give you the money?”

“Yeah, I’m sure he will, we just have to talk to him about it.”

Madaline sighed, rubbing her eyes, “Okay, let’s see how that goes.”

Amber nodded, thinking about how to go about it, she would prefer to choose an ideal time and place for such a conversation and dinner tonight might not be it, but if that is what Madaline needed to see that things with Simon were fine then she would find a way to make it work, it would just need to be handled with the utmost tact and care and...

4.

“Simon, your girlfriend needs new clothes, give her money to go shopping.”

Dinner tonight was tilapia, rice and broccoli, served with drinks and a mid meal infusion of awkwardness courtesy of Madaline sliding from talking about her code into making a demand, she said it casually, with no hint of the aggression that had been dripping from her pours hours ago.

Amber looked at her.

Madaline tilted her head and looked back.

Simon chewed and swallowed before speaking, even less time with Cynthia Mellor had still managed to impart the exact same terror that now existed in the background of Madaline’s brain. He wiped his mouth, he looked at Madaline suspiciously and then at Amber who was now staring at her plate moving a piece of fish back and forth. He relaxed. “She has clothes, if she wants more, she has money for them and I’m not sure how this is your business, Maddy.”

“Not enough, she’s two years out of date, dysphoria hoodies are no longer in, I’m afraid, it’s a certifiable fashion disaster and it’s my business cause she’s my friend, Simon.”

Simon chuckled, shaking his head with a little bemused humor, “Your friend? It’s just so bizarre, great, I guess, I'm glad you two get along, but I can't get over it. It's so hard for me to imagine Amber in the same category as the selection of people you call your friends. I can't wrap my head around the idea.” He looked over at Amber, “That’s a compliment by the way.”

“Um, thanks,” Amber said softly.

Simon waited.

Amber said nothing else.

Madaline jumped back in, “And yet, here we all are, breaking bread so to speak, strange times we live in.”

“Suppose you're right,” said Simon. “Strange times.”

Amber looked at Madaline, her eyes bugged.

Alright, alright, let’s turn it down and at least pretend to play fair even though he’s being a dick. “Simon,” she laughed, “Come on, man, I am giving you perfectly acceptable be a good boyfriend advice.”

“I am a good boyfriend.”

“Ain’t that the truth of a bar that’s busted through the Earth’s mantle,” she said it like she was teasing, she was not.

Simon huffed, “Good relationship advice from you? Really? You know, I heard a rumor back… like sophomore year, maybe junior, what was that one girl’s name?”

“You’re the one who slut shames me Simon, we both know that’s very vague.”

“Yeah, no, but the real one, not like the others, the one you were serious about,” he said, forking up fish. Chewed. Swallowed. Drank. “One you were with for a while, not the one from high school you pall around with… thick as thieves you two were, which with you being you... but I don’t think you two ever dated... can’t remember her name either, she transitioned, but I only know her dead name. But that’s not her.” He ate more fish. “This other girl though, you and her were everywhere for a while, Cynthia and dad, thought you’d bring her home for the holidays, but you never did, rich girl, musical name, perfect for you in that way… What was it? Was it Melody? Carol?”

Madaline tried to keep the grinding of her teeth to a low volume.

Simon shrugged. “Well, anyway, rumor has it you did something super crazy and she dumped your ass.”

Madaline cracked a knuckle, counted, reached up to the table, and picked up the salt shaker. “You know what they say about rumors.” She salted her fish and focused all her attention on Simon and away from Amber. “And no, she and I had a mutually beneficial separation and then after that I went kind of crazy for awhile, everybody talks too much, and they end up thinking that these things were connected, but they were actually totally unrelated, kind of like the ancient history of my complex love life and the issue of Amber needing money for clothes.”

Simon sighed and then he surprised Madaline, he turned to Amber, “Amber, honey, you got anything to say about this?”

“I don’t know much about you guys at school.”

“No, I mean the clothes, do you need new clothes?”

Amber moved a sliver of fish around her broccoli. “Um, you got me these… when we met, I’m really thankful.”

Simon looked at Madaline, eyebrows raised, as if to say: See, good boyfriend.

“But they’re worn out…” she said softly, thumbing at the frayed edge of a sleeve. “The next time we go… to your parents I kind of want to wear something nicer, not so…”

“Boymodey,” Madaline finished.

“Let her talk.”

“Boymodey,” said Amber, “My body has changed too, they… they don’t fit right anymore.”

Madaline raised her eyebrows at Simon, as if to say: Fuck you.

Simon wiped his mouth, “Okay, yeah. Fine.”

Goddammit! Madaline hated herself for how robbed this made her feel. Even so, he still should have noticed and done something before now, two years, he should see that she has trouble asking for stuff when there isn’t a gun to her head.

“I’ll take you shopping the next day off we share,” he put his hand over Amber’s. She unshrank herself a bit, grateful most of all for the easy resolution of the discussion, she smiled at him.

Madaline watched that stupid fucking smile slide onto Amber's face and wanted to scream. I can’t take this.

“No,” Madaline said, shaking her head. “I’m sorry, but no.”

Amber looked at Madaline, dumbstruck.

“What now Maddy, what’s the problem?”

Madaline scraped her teeth over her lip, “Simon, you’re a man. Specifically a cis gendered and heterosexual man.”

“Yeah, I noticed.”

“Alright, well call me a gender essentialist if you want to, but facts don’t care about our feelings, cishet men can barely dress themselves, she wants something more fem, that means female fashion advice not…” she flipped her wrist at Simon, “You.”

Simon pointed at Madaline, “You want to pick clothes for her? You? Who wear,” he looked down pointedly at Madaline’s legs, “leather pants for ten and a half months out of the year?”

“Advise, not pick, show her where to look.”

Simon set his fork down, “No, absolutely not.”

“Why?”

“Because…” He looked back and forth between them, as though the reason should be self-evident, “I’ve seen what you wear Maddy and I’ve seen how your friends dress, so, no.”

Somehow that got Madaline’s hackles up worse than anything else, “I’m sorry, I have a lot of friends and they dress a lot of ways, which style specifically are you referring to that you find distasteful?”

“You know what I mean.”

“No, I’m not quite sure I do Simon, please be specific, so then I will be able to know what to avoid.” She took a breath and changed her tact, this was getting her nowhere. “Tell you what, I’ll make this super easy for you, okay, next month's rent that’s the budget. You don’t have to waste time with it, I’m sure you’ve got a lot of work to do, it’s money you haven’t seen yet, you won’t even miss it.”

Simon shook his head, “That’s too much.”

“Not for a fresh woman’s wardrobe, ones that look good and will last it isn’t, come on, once again good boyfriend advice, for free, I should be charging you. Simon, for fucks sake, isn’t she worth it, she’s pretty, she’s smart, she cooks, she cleans, what’s the point of having a high end tranny waif-”

“MADALINE!”

Madaline didn’t blink, she ate fish. “It’s our word,” she flicked her finger back and forth between her and Amber, “We can use it if we want.”

“Can we? That’s... a slur?” Amber asked, carefully.

“Ah, yeah... of course, we can use it if we want to, it’s reclamative, right." Her finger tocked over at Simon from her fork, "He can’t.”

“Oh,” said Amber, suddenly very interested in her food even though she wasn’t eating.

“Just because you can doesn’t mean you should,” said Simon.

“I agree, context is key,” Madaline said, “Like if a trans person is saying it or not. Now about me helping her, I think-”

“Madaline, no, read my lips..”

“Can you say anything other than no, it’s like a skipping CD, is that just your natural setting telling her how-”

“I did say something else, I told her yes, you’re butting in where you don’t belong. What is with you toda-”

Amber looked back and forth and stopped herself from sighing, it was over and then Madaline started things back up again, she remembered Simon pointing out that Madaline liked to get the last word in, Amber had agreed that it was true, at least it was when her conversation partner was Simon.

That was her mistake, letting Madaline in on this conversation at all, not that Madaline had given her much of a chance to try managing the request. It was all so unnecessary, appreciated in spirit, but unnecessary, she’d just needed to get Simon to agree to the increase in her… budget, this proved that what Madaline was worried about was groundless and yet here they still were, bickering, any good feelings they had for each other disintegrating over concern for her. She might as well have let Madaline go argue with Simon earlier.

She started trying to work out a middle ground, if she could come up with something Simon would accept, maybe she could just wait for them to run out of breath or get Madaline to let her merge back into the conversation with a solution.

She couldn't think of anything, nothing without its own issues anyway, what was worse was that this wasn't anything like their usual slights and sparring, they were getting more and more heated, their hostility growing in a way Amber hadn't seen yet. As though each of them had managed to actually strike a sensitive place on the other.

Amber couldn't think of any usable way to make it stop.

She dipped her head down and looked at her plate, moving her rice around in circles, until it looked like a spiral galaxy.

She was tired, too worn out to even feel properly anxious about the dangerous game of chicken the two of them seemed ready and willing to work themselves up into.

The familiar voice took its cue center stage in her mind, entering upon a bitter accusation from Simon at Madaline that Amber didn’t really understand. Isn’t it funny that nowhere in this hunt for a solution you don’t ask what you want, what you’d prefer? She remarked, as if she and Amber were exchanging notes on each other’s lives while drinking coffee. The voice was, for the moment, in nice mode, the comment was an invitation, promising sympathy and understanding.

Amber saw the land mine and stepped on it anyway, Well, obvious- only fully comprehending her mistake once her proverbial foot had primed the mine, now if she tried moving it would go off.

Her fork scraped on her plate slightly, she started her circle again, chewing on her cheek, no, she needed to stop engaging with her. It just seemed to encourage the voice, going back and forth with intrusive thoughts, as easily as the siblings quarreling, was not very appropriate behavior.

The voice didn’t even have the decency to belong to anyone, it just came from nowhere to laugh at her or make her feel worse most of the time. She sounded like such a…

What do I sound like? she hissed, nice mode thrown out the window on the drop of a dime

Amber didn’t respond.

A response was all she wanted, which of course, thinking of the voice in those terms was another continued failure, there wasn’t a she at all and Amber really had to work harder at remembering that.

Then just as quick as nice had become spiteful, the voice ratcheted things back to an ambivalent middle, Go on and say it, I know the word, just say it, trust me, you’ll feel better...

Amber didn’t respond, she verbalized no thoughts, she concentrated on chopping a piece of broccoli into little shreds, hanging suspended in purgatory between the voices at the table and the voice in her head.

Then they were back to the start, like flicking a switch, the voice was nice and reasonable, opening with a long sigh that Amber resented, as it seemed to suggest that Amber was the problematic one here. Alright, if you don’t want to remember, if you insist on misunderstanding me, at least don’t leave me nameless, give me another name by what I sound like, maybe that way I’ll feel less… intrusive.

Amber clacked her fork across her plate, she wasn’t going to respond, she wasn’t taking part in either of these conversations anymore.

Personally I’m rooting for things escalating, aren’t you? Don’t you kind of want to see what happens when Madaline really looses her cool.

And at last the mine activated and exploded, Amber broke, What. No. That would ruin everything, she can’t do that and I can’t let her, he’ll throw her out.

Why not? Look at her, that’s where she’s headed, she was there earlier, but come on, what exactly will be ruined?

Everyt- I’m not, I’m not doing this, I’m almost twenty three years old, intrusive thoughts are bad enough, talking back to them is even worse, but I am not, not, not, not, not! Assigning you the position of my imaginary friend by way of naming you.

Wow. just wow, Amber, you know what you need, like so bad. A vacation. Doesn’t that sound nice, just say it to yourself in your head, just feel out those syllables, va-ca-tion, somewhere different, somewhere fun, somewhere far from here.

That’s not possible. Much like 99% of everything you say, it doesn't sound very nice and doesn't help.

Are you sure about that? Cause if Madaline gets any more apoplectic then you’ve got a ticket right there, all you have to do is take it and looking at things, I’m giving her maybe two more minutes, so I don’t know, maybe go pack a bag. Jeez she really got herself fuming today, didn’t she?

Amber didn’t at all like what she was implying. That was a situation to be avoided. No, that’s not happening, she won’t go that far. She’ll stop first, she’ll give up.

Well we can hope, but either way a vacation is what you need, desperately. I advocate it for you.

Sure, fine, whatever… just leave me- A hint of curiosity flickered, Why?

Well beyond the obvious other benefits, you really need a reality check, time and space to relax your brain, to reflect on things, put things in perspective, get your head together, cause the two things I absolutely am not, named or nameless... Amber, are you paying attention?

Amber worried at her lip, her finger scratched at her pants, I’m listening.

I am not imaginary nor am I your friend.

It was an odd statement, but Amber emphatically agreed with the second part.

She concentrated back on her food, looking at it, really, really looking at it, taking in its details, particularly the fish, but still not eating, waiting on edge, Simon and Madaline’s voices fading even further away, she waited for the intrusive thoughts to try to rope her back into further self defeating conversation. Perhaps a sugar and cyanide critique of her cooking? She waited, but the critique didn’t come, but then again, looking at her plate, really looking at it, a question occurred to her for the first time, why did she even make this?

For a moment everything else seemed so unimportant in the face of that question, why did she make this for dinner?

First answer: Simon liked it.

Second answer: It was next on the rotation, she made this tilapia fresh bought from the store, white rice, standard broccoli, standard butter and standard salt and standard pepper… standard could kind of be applied to all of it, really, cause she made it roughly every three weeks depending on her work schedule. She’d organized that rotation, it was useful for managing things, keeping things nicely in order, but… why is this even on that menu? It wasn’t even bad, it just tasted like nothing… the culinary equivalent to gray scale and to make things worse she just made it over and over, and even the process of shopping for it and making it was done over and over and it was kind of-

Vacation, she thought. It actually sounded really good, Va-ca-tion. Amber didn’t think she’d ever actually had what it had meant by a vacation, but god now that the thought was there Amber really wanted one.

She lost the current moment, behind her eyes she pictured a beach as the sun fled below the horizon, night coming on to seal her in pressurized heat, a beautifully alien city behind her, waves crashing and rolling in front of her, then a warm hand on her back leading her off somewhere, a trace of spearmint in the air, and waiting ahead new things to be done, new sounds to be heard, sights to be seen.

Possibilities yawning open to spill out miracles, like moonflowers blooming in the dark, like the unknown moment between when an unfamilar spice was laid on the tongue and the rush of sensation and flavor that followed.

And all of it, all of that and more, at her fingertips, to be had, to be enjoyed, to be touched, to be tasted, to be hers, all expirienced while her body was clad in... what exactly? Hoodies that sat wrong on her? Sleeves wearing away from where she'd scratched at them in an endless delirium of nerves. Faded jeans that did little other than hide her hips?

5.

Simon's face was quite red. “Say it however you want Madaline I am not letting you-”

“I got called a man in the grocery store today,” Amber mumbled the words downward at her food, but just loud enough to be heard and understood.

Finally the table went silent, she’d rendered them speechless, for a moment nobody spoke, Amber stared at her plate, it was as quiet as a grave.

Into the quiet of the vacuum, the nameless voice slipped back up into her thoughts like something rustling its way under fallen leaves, approaching quickly and quietly, Mmmm, god, that sound. Did you hear it? she whispered. Love that sound.

What? No, I didn’t hear anything. What did I miss? Amber responded, confused, straining to hear a moment that had already passed.

The sound.

What sound?

Don’t be too nervous, princess, it’s perfectly normal, perfectly, Amber could almost see the tilted little smile as she pronounced the word, Appropriate. Honestly I’ve been waiting on it for ages.

What sound? I didn’t hear anything. Tell me, Amber thought unable to disguise a sense of growing alarm.

Relax. It's just the sound of the surface cracking.

What I-

But she was leaving again, going back the way she came with no other explanation, if she could be said to come any way at all. Which is not how Amber should be thinking of her- it.

Simon placed his hand on Amber’s back.

Amber told herself to focus back on the moment, deciding that the voice was just trying to have her- it’s fun at Amber’s expense, same as always.

“Amber, who was it, who said that?” Simon asked.

“Um, some… Some customer asked a clerk looking for something. Cereal, I think, he asked where it was and the clerk pointed at me and said that it was on the left of the man in the hoodie. I don’t know if he was trying to... or if he just thought I was or…”her lip quivered, she shrugged, her face inches from her plate.

Madaline, for her part, had grown a fairly thick skin when getting misgendered herself, but she was also well aware that some could be sent into a serious spiral from it. She sat tight to her seat, fighting the urge to go to the other end of the table and kick out Simon’s chair so she could hold her, today didn’t seem to be her day for getting much of what she wanted, but she kept looking, kept thinking and...

“Do you want me to go there and talk to them, what did he look like?” Simon asked.

Amber shook her head, “No, I don’t want to get him in trouble, I don’t know if he meant anything by it, that’s like one of the worst parts…”

Yeah, Madaline very much agreed, that uncertainty could drive you mad. She’d found a work around for that, but it wasn’t going to work for Amber, but also, she just kept thinking about it and… had she seen any sign of this when Amber had come back earlier, Madaline had been busy, had she missed this...

“I don’t know if he meant anything or... or...” Amber circled her rice with her broccoli. “Or if it’s just something wrong with me.”

Simon was talking to her. Amber was nodding along.

His hands on her, then his arms around her, Amber looked closer at her plate, at her half eaten food, not even half, Madaline was going to stuff her later if she didn’t eat more.

Amber wasn't even worried about getting fat right now, cause she just kept coming back to- Why did I make this? I should’ve found something else. It’s so boring and tasteless. It doesn’t even taste like fish...

Amber let herself be held, that was what she was supposed to do here.

“I don’t want him in trouble,” she repeated. She glanced up at Madaline who was looking at her, she looked back down. “I can start shopping at a different store, but… I just… Simon, I don- I hear what you’re saying and- I just don’t want to feel unsafe in public, it’s scary being…” she used the term carefully, she’d first heard it from Madaline and used it herself once when talking to her, if she'd gotten it wrong that time, Madaline hadn't said anything, “Clocked like that. It’s scary and humiliating, it hurts. I need someone to help me, someone that knows women’s fashion, if you’re not comfortable with Madaline do you know someone else who can help me? Maybe Cynthia? I can’t let this ever happen again, what if it happens like when I’m with you for something important… or… I don’t know.”

After a couple minutes, Simon turned his head and looked at Madaline, who sits gently tapping her finger on the table, her head slightly askance, peering down at Amber.

Simon sighed and pointed at her, “You don’t pick, you show her where to look, you advise, put it on your card, next months rent is the budget and if you go over for any reason, doesn’t matter, same amount due the month after and for gods sake Madaline, don’t…”

“Right, yeah,” Madaline said quietly, biting her lip, “You don’t want her to look like one of my friends.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Yes, Simon. I think I know what you mean, I don’t think that’s Amber’s taste anyway.”

Though, why don’t I just go ahead and start a counter for the number of times she surprises me.

Madaline watched Simon put Amber back in a hug. Amber pressed the lower half of her face into his shoulder. Slowly she shifted, Madaline waited and looked into brown eyes that were nearly black.

The two women held a conversation beamed in glances.

Tell me to fuck off, slap me in the face, kick me in the balls if I’m wrong about this, but bullshit, nobody looks at you and thinks male, not anyone except maybe someone who’s been there and is good at looking for little details, and even then it’s going to be tough going... Nobody thinks that, nobody has thought it for a long time.

So you say, but I’m still scared it’s going to happen, it could.

I’ll give you $1000.00 if it ever does and I’ll happily make sure they never do it again cause their body will never be found.

I had to do this, you two were just going to keep going around and around, it was the only way to get him to say yes.

Now do you see what I mean about the allowance?

No, please, stop, he said yes, didn’t he? Just like I said.

After you lied.

No, he said yes almost right away, I lied to make it you who would help me. Are you satisfied? You were wrong. Do you really want to think whatever it is you're thinking about Simon?

Madaline looked away so Amber couldn't read the first half of the message and then back so she could get the second, Yes. No. It’s complicated.

We got what we wanted, be happy. This is what I need. Please tell me you’re over this. Please.

Madaline looked away again, took another bite, cracked her back and stood, taking her plate to the sink, washing the scraps down the drain. She closed her eyes, pulled her middle finger until it cracked and got to what had to be done, “Welp thank you Simon for another riveting negotiation, but in spite of my suspicions otherwise you really seem to have the good boyfriend routine down pat. I’ll let the agency know how the inspection went, but five stars.” She held up five fingers, instead of the single one she wanted to. “Since that’s settled, I hope you won’t mind if I duck out early.”

She went upstairs and got her bag and just as fast she was heading to the door.

“Wait, you’re leaving? Where are you going?” Amber asked almost too quickly. She stopped cleaning up the table, glancing at the clock, at the handful of hours until bestie anime time. “It’s Monday, you don’t usually-”

“Yeah, I have to run out, it’s um, it’s this deadline, this code, I have to go get a private consult from ah… lacking a better term an…” she groaned from the agony of the admission, “An expert.”

Amber made the admission worse.

“Compared to you?”

Madaline closed her eyes, clenched her teeth and forced the word out, “Yep.”

“Okay? Will you be back to-”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be back in… a few hours, kay, don’t worry, it’s just... were mostly just going to handle boring work stuff, you have a good rest of the night, ciao.” She went out the door, fleeing the urge to do something to Amber before she left, ruffle her hair, hug her, kiss her, yank her out the door with her.

She clambered into her car, tossing her bag on the seat, and let the song of sublimation play in her head.

6.

Madaline’s torment wasn’t over, two blocks into Greenhaven, sitting at a stoplight that seemed to be going on forever, she looked up at what was her apartment to be, finding the exact balcony that would be hers and was struck by a cursed longing just as her music collection decided to play a very particular song through the cars speakers.

Madaline got caught up in it easily, its opening rain soft, reggae influenced, with a sweet gentle guitar rift, massaging her brain, soothing a mind that felt so very overtaxed. She was being carried along, not really thinking about what song this was or where it was going, jamming, but then it got to the chorus where first mention of the girl the song was named for entered the lyrics. Madaline had to stop herself from pitching her phone through the wind shield. She forced herself to sit and enjoy the music, she wasn’t having her goat gotten again today, instead she sang along with Nick Hexum as he crooned about brainstorms and fleeing from the norm and naturally displayed shades of gold. She made it through fairly well, even getting back into it by the back half of the song, fantasizing about doing a gig, a particular girl standing out in the crowd below as Madaline covered the song whose name she shared. She made it all the way to the final verse and stumbled at the line about Amber launching a thousand ships into the singer’s heart.

“You too, huh Nick?”

At last the light turned green, Madaline cranked the shift lever and blew like a whirlwind into the night. She skipped through tracks until she found something with some metal, not at all what she was in the mood for.

She considered that the comparison of Amber with Helen of Troy and the 1000 ships was a little much in Madaline’s case, hyperbole, an overstatement. Got to keep molehills from being mountains. She began the song of sublimation again.

Objectively, Madaline Mellor feeling crazy over a girl was hardly a new occurrence, but, just as objectively, the comparison was perhaps not quite as hyperbolic as she would like to claim, after all, other motives aside, several hours ago Madaline had almost gone to war over her.

Ten minutes later, Madaline was turning her key in the lock of Adobeflats Apartment 323 and then moving through the door, dropping her bag on the floor, her keys went in a dish, her coat went on a chair, her boots clattered into a corner; all actions were performed with the kind of ease usually reserved for someone entering their home.

She finished getting herself in the door just in time for a woman to come rushing up to her.

They made it through approximately four minutes of small talk, which is to say Madaline allowed herself to be comforted by the woman’s familiar topic swinging chatter, it was that time of day for her and it provided Madaline occasion to place the ice cream she’d brought in the fridge and untie/unwind the chain like braid her hair was in, after which Madaline shoved the woman hard to the wall and carefully pressed her forearm over her mouth to keep her from speaking any further.

Sorry, I just… really need a chance to express myself… Hi… I’ve missed you so much and I am really excited to see you and I’m just so fucking happy to be... well, I’m really happy to be pinning you to this wall… but... I cannot... begin to describe, just how fucked up my day got… I just… I can’t do it… I am so fucking tired... everything was going fine… and… and then just… drop of a hat… a fucking word... Jesus fucking Christ… I almost fucked up so bad… over, just… over… I guess the problem was if I’m being honest… it’s the same thing it always is… I almost fucked up so bad cause I wanted to fuck up so bad… fuck… it would’ve made things so much… fuck… What are you supposed to do with that? Right?”

The woman giggled maniacally behind Madaline’s arm.

Madaline smiled at her and caressed the exposed portion of her cheek.

“Even muzzled you are so beautiful… you know that… have you taken you’re evening meds? I haven’t gotten a chance to check the thing.”

An enthusiastic round of gabbing from behind Madaline’s appendage, two hands pressing themselves of their own volition to the wall dropped down to give her two thumbs up before returning to their former position.

“Good, that’s really good, that’s important... I’m going to be very very upset, if I check in a half hour and see you didn’t. Facts of life. ”

More nods.

“Alright, we’ll see. How was your stream? Have fun?”

Babbling against her arm.

Madaline will get the uncensored version later.

“Very cool. Anyway... I mean… Everything turned out kind of okay in the end… I guess... not really… not ideal, but… float on and all that, except… I mean I was ready to do some real fucking damage… but I didn’t and now I’m just... I am frustrated in every single way that matters to me… every, single, way.” She shook her head and laughed along with her. “And the only thing I can do about any of it right now is take that frustration out on you… so that’s definitely something for you to look forward to for the next few minutes until it starts… Do you have an opinion on any of this, is our better half here, think she wants to give me some life advice? No, wait, I got this,” she cranked her voice to a yell, “Hey, Poppet, remember how I’m not just bad at being a guy, I’m also the bad guy, cause I really about pulled off my first arguably unjustifiable melt down since college today and was ready to knock someone's head clean off…” She waited, a wet mumble from under her arm, half speech, half kiss. “Nah, she’s not here is she, but she’ll be back soon right?"

A nod and muffled giggles.

“Class?”

Something that sounded an awful lot like: department meeting.

“Right. Cool. Good,” Madaline tapped her fingers on the exposed surface of her face in a semi-gentle slap, “Don’t tell her I said all that.. she’ll just worry… and really I just have to keep an eye on this kind of thing, head it off before it swallows my brain, that’s what she’s going to tell me… Anyway, so… I’m thinking first some nice stress relief exercises and after that if you’re up to it and don’t mind you can insult my code.”

A nod, a tongue sliding against Madaline’s arm.

Madaline’s arm dropped, her opposite hand took tight hold of a bundle of hair.

From the hall where Madaline had entered, one would be able to hear a sound like half happy half nervous whining.