by Sevan Paris
And then the reason for Pink being in Lisa Lancaster’s body hits me.
She didn’t just grab Lancaster at random. She grabbed her so that she could do a video interview with me. Something to derail what was about to happen at the vigil. Casa probably came up with it; Pink would have worked out the smaller details. Create a reason for Lancaster’s following memory loss, find a way to explain her wearing sunglasses, and nobody ever would have been the wiser. The only person really taking a gamble would have been Pink. She was willing to drag her own name through the mud, unasked, for me.
And what did I do?
I acted like an insensitive dick.
***
Ember finally answers the Magick Shoppe door on the third nock.
Gabe, before you do this … please, just think—
“Gabe?” she says, rubbing her eyes. “What time is it?” She wears a long brown shirt that says Muggle across the front. It reaches half way down her bare thighs, both of which are covered with purple bruises. There is a cut on her right cheek that I didn’t notice earlier.
“It’s, I don’t know. Late,” I say. It’s easy to speak softly because the crowd behind me in Old Prose is pretty thin. “Or early. How’s Obi?”
“He’s good … just pissed. Mystick was just trying to rattle his cage. Are you okay?”
I nod—then slowly turn it into a head shake. “No, I’m really far from okay. Lightyears even. Think I’ve pissed off or hurt everyone close to me. And I just want to feel … different for a little while. Better, y’know? Like—”
The irises of Ember’s eyes flame up.
We press our lips and bodies against each other and fumble our way back into the shop, closing the door behind us.
SUPERHEROES IN PROSE WILL RETURN SEPTEMBER 25th WITH VOLUME SIX: I, PINK.
