Alpha's Bane- Always been you

Breathe

Blanca

Nine years earlier

There is a weird bubbly feeling in my stomach when I finally watch a slightly blushing Theo hurriedly enter the bar through the back door again. He pulled the handle so hard that it almost hit him in the chin, the light filtering into the alley and shining on his reddening cheeks. The fact that he turned around with THAT look on his face made my night. I have never been looked at with such awe and just… at a loss for words. Kind of nice. Especially since it’s him. God, I hope he actually calls me. If there is a father in heaven, please make this guy call me. I would do anything to get a glimpse of what is normal with him. And being brave myself can only take me so far.

I’m still staring at the door, the slight buzz traveling down my spine, butterflies making a home in my stomach, when I register the dumpsters moving slightly from my peripheral vision. As inconspicuously as I can, I drop my hand to the small pocket knife my Mom gave me for my last birthday and let my gaze move over the corner of the metal trash can I saw jiggle a little.

Anyone else might have thought raccoon. My mind is going the sinister route right away—or more like the route my Dad has been drilling into me since I was little. This is most definitely going to be a thread. So I shuffle my feet, trying to put more distance between me and the dumpster, when I see whoever it is, move again. Thick black hair reflects the light of the dingy lamp over my head, and I see their signature bright orange Converse.

I turn quickly, my steps speeding up as I walk over to the shadow, trying their best to shrink to almost ‘non-existent’ next to the dumpster.

“Hey.” I lower my voice not to startle them because I can’t see their face. But the metallic smell of blood is pricking my nose, and I can make out their chest, rising and falling fast. Up, down, up, down. They must have run over here… but that’s not the only reason.

“Close your eyes, Mo.” Doing it with them shortly after I grabbed their hand, I try to push all the angry shakiness out of my voice. “Now, take a deep breath.” Inhaling, my nose fills with the metallic, almost rusty stench I dread whenever my friend comes to me late at night for the second time this evening.

“I know it doesn’t feel that way right now, but it will all be OK. I promise.” I squeeze their hand when they try to pull it from me.

“You are beautiful, and you are exactly the way you’re supposed to be. No one gets to make you feel less for living how you want to. For being yourself, believing in yourself.” Another squeeze. This is all I can do: hold them, get them to breathe. Because nothing else will help… no one else. We had to learn the hard way that the childish thought of going to another grown-up to fix your problems is just that: a silly thought. They have never gotten any help… I haven’t, either.

“He doesn’t get to take you from me. He’s not worth changing for, Mo. YOU are! Because I will not live in a world where my best friend doesn’t exist so that HE can feel better.” Their hand shakes in mine, so I pull it closer to my chest.

“I need you… You matter to me. All is going to be OK. I promise. Do you hear me? I promise it’s all going to be OK.”

Then, I make them breathe with me a few more times, whispering promises of the life we will have… soon— so very soon. A few minutes later, I finally open my eyes again.

“Do you think you can get up?” When I see their head move lightly, I go in to help them and instantly notice that they’re favoring their right side.

“F*CK.” And I know I should have better control of my vocal cords, but that word just slips.

Blue and purple bruises cover the entire left side of Mo’s face. Going down to their collarbone and disappearing under the collar of their shirt. By the way they are holding themselves, they continue down their sides. Their ribcage moves unevenly, hinting at maybe a broken rib or two.

Mo’s big brown eyes are slightly bloodshot from crying, and the left one is swollen badly. The skin on their nose, which already seemed too long and crooked for their small face, is split below their brows.

‘I really thought he wouldn’t do it again.’ My friend shrugs as they sign, wincing when they try to move their shoulders.

‘He always does!’

Anger boils inside me. No one should be treated like that by their family, especially not someone as kindhearted and quiet as my friend. They would never hurt a fly, but for some reason, people think that them simply ‘existing’ is enough to do just that.

Mo’s lips quirk, and I can already feel the humor coming to brush over the uncomfortable tension in the air. And usually, that is my thing, too. The world is too bright and beautiful to miss out on. You should make the most of each day. But this… this feels more severe than any other time they came here after…

‘Thought you might have some ice here… you know, safe some of my ugly mug.’

‘Sadly, we’re out.’

I know I have to play along. Making an even bigger deal out of it would make this dire situation even worse. I would do anything to prevent them from cracking, and tonight, they are as close to it as I have ever seen them.

My friend theatrically throws their hands in the air. ‘You don’t say?’

‘Yup.’

My heart hurts. Purposefully looking at the one unharmed eye, I try to smirk while shrugging.

‘Wow… guess it’s plastic surgery then.’ They quip.

Suddenly, a shadow passes over us, and my hand juts out, getting ready to push Mo behind me. My stomach plummets to my knees.

Had my gaze dropped a second later, the dude would have had my knife stuck deep in his spleen. But I would recognize those stupid ripped jeans anywhere. So I take a relieved breath, the tension rolling down my back, morphing into irritation.

“Wasn’t that the plan the whole time? You getting that nose fixed?” I glare at Adriano. No idea how to read a room and he’s late. And rude as always.

“You’re late.” He ignores me, leans in, and lifts Mo’s chin with his index finger. I see my friend gulp a little, staring back into the Selkie's dark blue eyes.

“Mmmh. Ibra got you good this time, huh? Cane or fist?” Mo rears back, their face slightly red.

“F*ck you, Adriano.”

The big Selkie lets out a laugh. “Meow.”

I see his shoulders shake with it and glower at him even more.

“Stop it. Nothing about this is funny… At ALL!”

Adriano inclines his head, meeting my gaze, and the same raw emotion I saw there this afternoon when I pushed him off me reappears in his eyes. It sends a shiver through me. Not in a bad way… in the way anything that makes you feel guilty as f*ck does.

“OH, I have to find the fun in things, principessa. Otherwise, ALL of this would simply be tragic. E questo non fa per me.(And that’s not for me.)”

I need to talk to him. About what happened. But now is not the time. Mo needs some witch hazel and an ice pack. Actually, scratch that: they need to go to urgent care. ASAP.

And I need to get home. I’m a terrible friend. The guilt of wanting nothing more than to sit next to my secret Bruner phone and wait for Theo to call me is so overwhelming that it almost makes my knees buckle. But Mo is more important right now. And I can just hope that I remembered to put the phone under my mattress on silent— third silent prayer tonight.

I’m about to break my stare, losing this childish game of chicken to my friend when Adri just shrugs and turns around. Ignoring Mo and me completely, he stuffs his hands deeper in his pockets as he strolls toward the parking lot. Walking off without a word.

“Hey, great that you are so eager to give us a lift, but I need to clock out first!” Nothing. And I’m sure I was loud enough. My hearing aids picked up on it, so…

“HEY!”

The strain in my throat is another sign that I was indeed loud enough that he should have heard me. Which means he’s ignoring me… and starting to piss me off.

“Adriano!”

He still continues, forcing Mo and me to share an exasperated look and speedwalk after him eventually. We only reach him mere seconds before he stops next to his rusty Jeep Cherokee.

“Where are you off to, huh? Got a hot date waiting or something?” I know Mo doesn’t mean anything by this… or maybe they do. I have seen them ‘make eyes’ at Adri on multiple occasions— another talk I’ll have to have soon.

“Yup. The hottest of dates… Actually, I’m third-wheeling tonight.” The impassive look on my friend's face doesn’t sit right with me. “You see, I’m off to introduce an old Muslim guy's knuckles to my shiny new baseball bat. They seem to be itching badly lately. And only finding relief on cheekbones…? Can’t have that.”

All color drains from Mo’s face. “NO!”

:::::::::::::

Present day

I don’t know how long I have just been standing and staring at them without saying a word. My tongue feels like it’s glued down in my mouth, and I can feel my pulse thrum. I’m not even looking at her. All I can focus on is Theo’s face. How… When…?

Just staring straight, my vision dots. I faintly register the woman’s lips moving, talking fast, leaning into Theo more, but nothing gets through to me.

Nothing.

Until movement makes me look up. To his face. God, it changed so much. Sure, it’s been eight years, but there is something so hard and unrelenting about it that I’ve never seen before. He-

Theo’s sudden hand movement startles me. My gaze drops there for a millisecond, but when he doesn’t move them again, I meet his eyes. Anger, cold fury…

“Are you going to say anything?” His facial expression is dripping with disdain, the corners of his mouth pulled down, and a muscle ticking in his jaw.

“I—”

Before I can even get more than that one word out, he turns to his… fiancee. “I think we should go somewhere else. This place doesn’t seem equipped.” My hands ball into fists, and I can feel the wave of dark, gooey anger that has been too much of a part of me for the last few years.

“I can assure you we are.” I grit out. Maude cringes a little, and I do everything I can to school my face into a professional smile. “Please excuse me. I… had a rough morning. A Customer was a real piece of work.”

I pointedly look at Theo while I say that. He has no right to react this way. I wasn’t the one that left. And I’m not the one who is here to buy a cake for the ceremony during which he will marry another person! I can feel my heart rate speed up, and I try to take a deep breath as inconspicuously as possible. Get a grip, B. You can do this. GET A. GRIP.

“Hmmm, some people are just not meant for the customer service industry. But then again, there are always traits you need less training for, like taking out the trash…”

“Theo…” The woman looks so confused and uncomfortable that I almost feel sorry for her. Almost. I guess now I know why I got the pleasure of… staying with my family a little longer. I hurry to push the thought of that day out of my head as quickly as possible, but this time, I’m not fast enough.

My vision narrows as black dots appear around the edges of it. That fuzzy feeling in my stomach grows into an actual ache, and the stale taste on my tongue makes me wonder if there is any saliva left in my mouth. And I know that they are talking to each other; I see Maude, the woman, gesture a little, leaning in as she speaks. But I can’t focus enough to lip-read. My headache worsens and I feel how sweaty my palms are. I take a measured step back.

NO! Not now. Not when he’s around! I can’t… I—

‘Daddy, PLEASE! You can’t do this!’

‘Not your Dad, little menace.’ His smile gets wider, and I jolt in pain, the scream lodged in my throat. ‘He died a long time ago… and with how bad you’ve been, you deserve all of this.’

This time, the scream breaks free and—

Someone is grabbing my arm and shaking me. I can feel how hard I’m breathing, and once my vision clears, Noor is holding onto me, leading me… somewhere.

My hands shake as she pushes me down into the back corner of the pantry.

A hand waves in front of my face. ‘Close your eyes and take a deep breath, B.,’ Noor signs. I vehemently shake my head.

Concern crosses Noor’s face before she nods and repeats the second part: ‘Take a deep breath.’ She knows exactly why I don’t want to close my eyes… I can’t deal with the dark— not anymore, not even the natural kind that comes with sleep. If I could avoid blinking, I would. And I try.

A breath shudders out of me and earns me a little smile from my friend. ‘That’s it.’

Noor squeezes my hand, looking me over. ‘I know it doesn’t feel that way right now, but it will all be OK. I promise.’

I give her a shaky nod, my mind wanting to go back to that darkest of days— the day Theo left, the day my world ended. Theo. He’s out front. My heart thunders against my ribcage. Thump. He’s out front. Thump. He’s getting married. Thump, thump.

‘Take a breath… come on.’ And I do. I try. Slowly my vision clears completely. Noor makes sure I look at her, then she says: “I don’t know what happened out there or… who that is, but no one gets to make you feel less.”

I swallow hard. Because I recognize the words. “They don’t.”

“No.”, she agrees. “They don’t.” Then Noor straightens her shoulders. “Now… let’s kick them out.”

I scramble to get up behind her and grab her hand. “Noor, you can’t they are pa—

“I don’t give a f*ck. You don’t have to tell me what he did or who he is to cause a reaction like this.” She interrupts me. “But I sure as hell will not serve him because you matter more to me than anyone else.” Another lump is lodged in my throat, growing bigger by the second, and I give her hand a hard squeeze. Which earns me a wide smile.

“Damn, that speech sure works well.”, I grin.

“Even in a pantry.” And Noor winks before she clears the shadows that clearly appear there for a moment at that memory, and I see her stomp back to the front of our cafe. Maybe that makes me a coward, but I can’t face him again. Not right now, and not like this. He doesn’t deserve to see me any more vulnerable than he already has.

“F*ck you, Bane.”