Y O U [Hiatus]

Chapter 16. Fashionista Clowns

Iier.

"-at least it's better than the lion, the witch and the wardrobe."

"It's the name? Wait, it is the real limerick? Cause last time I heard it was the lion, the witch and the audacity of this bitch."

"What the bloody hell are you talking 'bout now?"

"Wait, wait, back up dude. You mean Limerick as in the city?"

"What city? Limerick means rhyming proverbs. You are a British moron, you know that right, mate?"

"First, I'm British born and Korean raised. So, I'm British-Korean. Second, Limerick is a city's name you arsehole!"

"There ain't no city called Limerick. Is there? Wait! Alexa, from a scale from 1-10, what is the chance of Limerick being a city?"

"What an idiot, how am I even friends with him?"

"Tristan, it is a solid 10. There is a city called Limerick in Ireland."

"Woah, Je ha, since when were you such a geographical expert?"

"Since there is a thing called google, you arse."

My ears were bleeding. The sound of birds chirping was prominent even over the heavy shouting between some people over there. The voices faded to nothing. Nothing can interest my brain right now. Not even the good, old Chronicle of Narnia and a google based sarcasm shitshow. The pounding headache is no better, just making it worse. I decided tune them out but what was said next had the hairs on my neck stand out in attention.

"Enough both of you! There are two dead kids lying here, how could you argue now? Like this? Cracking jokes?"

This time I recognized the voice. How can I not? It's Mr. Hot Shot Italian.

Vincenzo.

Wait, two dead kids?

Elesia. Is she ok? Has anything happened to her? I can't remember what happe-

Oh, hell no!

That, that definitely did not happen. But that wasn't what happened.

As my brain finally restarted, I could feel myself getting colder than the Artic. I am wet all over with restraints, tying my hands to my back.

What the hell?

Cracking open my eyes, the dazzling light nearly blinded me but it was his smile that did the job. Gleaming more than the sun outside.

And there he was. Standing there.

Standing like a god damned fool.

Smiling from ear to ear.

My brother. Vincenzo Cassano.

Well, soon to be brother-in-law.

Same thing.

Never mind that.

"What two dead kids? For your information, I'm perfectly alive."

That raspy voice was drier than the Sahara. Parched to its core, without a single drop of water.

Fun fact. It belonged to me.

"Honey, do you really think you're the only one alive announced dead and now chained to another said-dead kid. With wet clothes. Think again."

Now, this voice, it was from behind me. And I could only guess who it belonged to.

Jared King. Assassin of the evening.