From the Cosmos. [gxg]

xi. i'm too young to be a fugitive!

Marisol collapsed onto the hard wooden floors of her apartment, her legs no longer being able to hold her. Colette fell down next to her. Marisol laid there, trying to process what happened. Her mind spun, her body ached, she felt exhausted. Her mind was working at a quarter capacity. She wanted to ask Colette what happened, how they ran away, and if she was just dreaming. Instead, the familiar face of her roommate hovered into her vision.

"What the fuck, Mari!" Nevada yelled, "Both of you guys look like you've been hit by a truck!"

Marisol winced at the volume. She forced her shaking arms to move, pushing herself into a sitting position against the front door. Nevada kneeled in front of her.

"Did Colette do this? If she did, I swear, I'm going to-"

Marisol shushed. "I'll explain later. Right now, please help."

"What about Colette?" Nevada asked.

Colette groaned, sitting up. "I can take care of myself."

Nevada nodded and jogged off to the bathroom to get their medical supplies.

Marisol winced as Nevada pressed an alcohol soaked rag to the cuts on her face.

"Sorry, Mari. We've got to clean the wounds."

"Where did you get your medical knowledge from?" Marisol asked, wincing again as Nevada stuck a bandage to her face.

"The Walking Dead," they responded, "Now, is there anything else?"

"The whole front of my body hurts."

"Take off your shirt. Let me look."

Marisol slowly pulled her shirt over her head, grimacing as her arms burned from the movement. She dropped the shirt to the side and let her arms fall. She looked down, seeing a nasty bruise blooming by her ribs, some of it traveling under her bra. The skin was a multitude of dull colors, throbbing.

"Holy shit," Nevada said, "Did you actually get hit by a truck?"

Marisol looked at Colette warily. "We went to that magic rights protest."

"And you got hit by a truck there?"

Colette cleared her throat. "No, a big fight broke out. We were in the middle of it."

Marisol nodded. It wasn't a total lie. Both of them did fight. Nevada still looked skeptical, but seemed to accept the answer.

"Alright," they said, "It must have been a crazy fight. I think you might need to get checked out at the hospital."

Marisol shook her head. "No."

Nevada crossed their arms. "It looks like something could be seriously wrong with your ribs. The hospital seems like the best option."

"No," Marisol repeated.

"Why not?"

"Because," Colette said, "We don't want to go out right after being in the middle of a protest. The police might identify us as part of the fight."

Nevada rolled their eyes. "You guys were both wearing bandanas over your faces. Besides, medical professionals are bound to confidentiality."

Marisol shook her head. "No, it's better safe than sorry."

Nevada stood up. "Fine, but don't come running to me later." They walked to the T.V. and turned it on. They began flipping through channels.

Marisol scooted over to Colette. "Any serious injuries?"

Colette held her arms forward to Marisol. Tiny bruises littered her skin like polka dots. "I have bruises from where the cops were holding me, but that's it."

Marisol frowned. "I shouldn't have encouraged you to go."

"No, it's okay. I actually want to thank y-"

"Marisol, Colette, get over here!" yelled Nevada from the living room.

Marisol slowly stood and walked to the living room, Colette following. "What is it?"

Nevada gestured to the TV, which was paused on the news channel. "Care to explain this?" They unpaused the screen,

A news reporter faced the camera, talking. "A magic rights protest in front of the Londyn building turned violent after the police attempted to arrest an alleged witch. However, a protester fought the cops with magic, allowing the girl to run free. This magic user continued to fight, injuring several cops before running away with another person. Here's the video."

The screen switched to a shaky cellphone video taken from behind the wall of shielded officers. The scene played out how Marisol had seen it. Colette broke through the wall of police with magic, freed the girl, and then got captured by the police herself. Then, Marisol ran in. She narrowed her eyes as she concentrated on what happened next. Marisol was tackled to the ground by an officer. Colette was nearly pushed in the van. Then, came the stuff that Marisol didn't see. Colette's eyes glowed and the arms in her veins seemed to shine through her skin. The officers flew off the witch. An invisible force tossed the officer on top of Marisol to the side and into the van. Then, Colette grabbed Marisol's arm and they ran off. The video stopped and Nevada paused the TV again.

Nevada pointed to Colette. "You're a witch!"

Marisol could see panic flood Colette's eyes. "You can't tell anybody," Marisol said, "Please."

"I won't," Nevada said, "But-"

"You're mad?" said Colette.

"No. I understand why you did what you did," Nevada responded, "I'm concerned."

Marisol looked down. Nevada continued talking.

"This video is getting circulated everywhere as we speak." Nevada turned to Colette. "You blasted several police officers. They're going to be looking for you."

"We covered our faces," said Marisol.

"And?" they responded, "Colette is a mega super hot celebrity. If one of her crazy fans looked at that video, they'd be able to tell it was her. Also, the police are going to be spreading information about you guys like crazy. If you guys walked out of here and you'd fit the description they have out of you, they'd take you in."

Marisol buried her face in her hands. In the heat of the moment after her escape, she had forgotten that her actions had consequences. "We're screwed."

"I vow not to tell a soul," said Nevada, "But we have to leave New York as soon as possible."

Colette looked at Nevada. "You included?"

"Yes, I don't want them interrogating me! Besides, you guys need me."

Marisol dropped her hands from her face. "And why is that?"

"Because, we're going to hide in my parent's house. They'll protect us."

Marisol looked at Colette, "But Colette is filming a movie. She can't leave."

The actress sighed. "It's in early stages. They were talking about holding off filming because of the protests anyway. I'm sure I can convince them to let me leave. Besides, my manager would let me leave in an instant if I said I felt unsafe. She's like a mom, but she protects me for money, not for love."

Marisol thought of her job and frowned. "As much as I hate leaving my job, I know I can take some time off. They're surprisingly good at giving their employees vacation time."

The three of them looked at one another. A rigid expression was on all of their faces, but no doubt lingered. They all knew that this was the only option.

"Start packing," Nevada said, "We're leaving tomorrow morning."