The Classix

*chapter eight*

    She sets the note down on my dresser, then digs into the pocket of her jet black slacks, pulling out an identical golden slip. She hands over it to me.

    "I just got one," she says.

    My breath catches, as if someone just knocked the wind right out of me. I freeze up on instinct, staring at the paper in my hand. "When?"

    "Today."

    "Is it the same message?"

    "Similar, but different. Take a look."

    As I gingerly open the note, afraid it might somehow explode in my hands, Till takes a seat next to me on my bed. She reads along over my shoulder:

You have always been guarded.

We intend to earn your trust.

Soon.

    I read it a few times over, hoping to get a feel of the right tone DEFED intends. Nothing about this message seems entirely outwardly menacing––not in the same way mine could be perceived. Somehow, it makes it all the more sinister.

    "What... What does this mean?" I ask.

    "I'm as lost as you," she says.

    I set the golden note down on the comforter next to my own. We stare at the both of them, as if willing their contents to fuse.

    "When did you get it?"

    "Today. Found it in my room when I got home."

    "Where was it?"

    The sheets crinkle as Till shifts. She sits up straighter, but she's obviously uncomfortable. "Do you remember when you first joined the Famoux, and all of the members were given back the things Norax considered 'liabilities'?"

    Her words flicker a memory so dormant, for a moment I think it's a dream. All I remembered about that day was meeting Chapter's liability––meeting his son Callan. How could I have actually forgotten that I had liabilities of my own? That box of objects. The school photos of Emilee Parvenu's forced smiles. I so resolutely didn't want those things in my life that I haven't thought of them nor seen them since that day. I think I might've thrown them out. Crumbled them up.

    "Yeah, I remember," I say.

    "Well, the note was with my liabilities," Till says. "I have them in a little box in the back of my closet. It's hidden behind a few things, too. Someone would've had to really known where they were to get it there."

    I shudder at the thought. "Do any of the other members have one?"

    "Not that I know of."

    There's so much to process within this conversation with Till, my brain feels like it's going a mile a minute––a second.

    "If the other members haven't gotten one, how'd you know I did?" I ask.

    Till shakes her head. "I just assumed, I guess." When she sees I'm searching for elaboration, she adds, "I mean, DEFED reached out to you first the last time. Why wouldn't they reach out to you first again?"

    My mind flickers back to the last few months––the menacing golden packages that DEFED sent us one by one. Back then, they'd been leading up to something. To the Darkening. They'd been tormenting us the whole way there. And as much as I'd like to believe that the messages they've sent Till and I are the peace offerings they pose themselves to be, DEFED's track record isn't exactly spotless.

    In other words, they're planning something. They just have to be.

xxx

A lot to unpack here! The plot is THICKENING! Give me your thoughts.

Also, please check out the following stories when you get the chance.

1. THE AROTTIR by hannahgrowe. It's one of the most excellent, sophisticated things I've read here, and it's criminally underrated!! Give it a read and thank me later.

2. CONCERTO by ElleRoseBooks. That's right. SHE'S BACK! If you read Sonata, you'll be happy to hear that the adventure is continuing, and Mondays finally have purpose again. #SonataMonday

Please comment your stories here so I can add them to my list! I'm finally gonna give myself a much needed break this weekend, so I'd love to fill that break with reading.

Thank you for being patient with me this past week, and every week before this one. I've been reflecting a lot on The Famoux book 1, and it's the best kind of overwhelming to think about how wonderful you've been to me. Please comment your name so I can make you a character. I'd love nothing more than to do that, and show you how much it means to me that you're here.

All right. This time tomorrow? Sounds good. Have a wonderful Thursday. And remember:

Sticks and Stones may break your bones, but haters make you famoux. Stay classy, stay classix.