Prologue: Family Line

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Hi.

You guys know what to do by now right? Tell me if you want more. I'll post a few more chapters until we're at the actual plot, but I still need to know if I should continue it or unpublish it.

NPOV

Track: Family Line, Conan Gray

I haven't always been this way. The string of fate twists and turns and never heads straight—and occasionally, the string snaps entirely, leaving you stumbling through the world alone.

By 'this way,' I mean a lot of things. I have a hard time seeing the bright side of things; I toss and turn when I'm trying to sleep; I haven't tried making friends in years; I spend more time under stars than I do under the sun; I may or may not be close to failing nearly all of my classes in high school.

Oh, yeah. And I'm a wanted man. Or so the police say.

I started out as a normal kid just like anyone else. I wasn't incredibly extroverted—but that's somewhat normal for children. Yes, I would hide behind my mother's leg when there were new people around, but I also had friends at school. I played outside in the bright green grass, watched Batman, and dreamed of one day becoming a superhero.

I mean, the smaller you are, the greater the world, right?

"You're going to grow up to be a good man one day, Niccolò," Bianca, my older sister, used to tell me.

Ironically, the day that my fate string twisted from a life of heroics to a life of crime, my sister told me those same words. Maybe the string of fate has a sense of humor. I think it might be doing this to spite me. If I ever get to have a face-to-face conversation with Fate, I am going to beat the shit out of that guy.

The last time my sister told me I would grow up to be a good person—that was the day that life fucked me over.

I would like to start this with an it-was-a-dark-and-stormy-night aesthetic, but the truth is that it was a beautiful day. The sun shone so brightly and hotly in the sky that I was sweating as I skipped down the city streets, one hand in Bianca's and my eyes on the sky...

--

Bianca has been begging my mother for weeks to let her take me and Hazel, my younger sister, downtown to shop. My mother's birthday was coming up in a week; usually, we had to make gifts for my mother by hand. Our dad isn't really in the picture, so if we want to go buy a gift, our mother was the only one who could take us. You can imagine why that might not be ideal for shopping for her birthday gift.

The cement of the city reflects the heat everywhere, and it feels like walking in a desert. I don't mind except that I would like to get a drink of water the next time we get the opportunity. Mom did tell me to bring a water bottle, but I forgot it at home. I'm sure Bianca will buy me a drink somewhere.

Bianca and Hazel are my favorite people in the entire world—and I'm pretty sure that's never going to change. I'll spend the rest of my life skipping next to them, and that will be a good life.

"Niccolò," Bianca scolds, "you need to be careful! You're going to hurt yourself."

Except I'm pretty sure she's not really angry. I've been skipping everywhere for the past week or so—my friend Luke at school is in a competition with me to see who can skip everywhere we go for longer. I'm competitive and determined to win, but I've scraped my knees from tripping over myself about three times this week, so my mother has been trying to convince me to stop. I guess that's starting to rub off on Bianca.

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