You're a holy fool all coloured blue
Red feet upon the floor
You do such damage
How do you manage?
What Kind of Man ~ Florence + The Machine
Tyler (again - how sneaky I am what what)
Montgomery Yokela Lunaire was a strange man - a controversial man - who happened to be my uncle. He had two sons, Korey and Mathew, and no wife. We all lived under the same roof during my childhood, in Michigan. The only male figure in my life was Monty. He raised me, along with my mom. It was nice - I got on with Korey, and mom seemed to be at her happiest when she was surrounded by family. I thought life would always be joyous, just like it was back then. Of course, that belief left me quickly after experiencing the real world.
I remember when I was five, running down the stairs just to discover my uncle in tears. He spoke of his failures, my mother soothing in him as best she could. It was to no avail, as he cried for hours on end. Korey ignored the commotion and put on the TV. On came the news, showing a few politicians standing for the elections. People cried out for someone to represent Elementals.
Monty took it upon himself to be that man.
He founded a party, named Elemental Movement - abbreviated to EM. He wished to get Elemental equality, where we and the Powerless lived in harmony. He started by gathering other Elementals in politics. He spoke to commissioners, district courts, legislators, elected judges - anyone who had the power to make a change. People were eager to join his vision, wanting nothing more than to live without the shackles they had worn since birth. Together, they drew up plans for how they’d gain equality.
It took years of hard work. A lot of dreaming went into the endeavour. Never once did Monty doubt himself. He was determined to succeed. I was eight when he finally had his breakthrough. He got in contact with an old friend who was involved in politics. She happily took him in, putting his small party on the map. Her name was Kayce Kanhye-Knot.
Who knew that within a decade she’d be confining those she’d once sided with.
EM were put on TV, in a debate against the United States Nationalist Party. It was the said to be the greatest debate to be on TV, with elementals confronting those who wanted to dispose of them. The USNP were made to look fools, whilst EM stood victoriously. We all screamed in delight when Monty came home, saying “the winds of change are blowing.”
At first I thought it was just one big game. Monty soon learnt how to speak in a softer, upper class voice, so that people would trust in his ideals. I thought he was an actor, the way he could change his voice. Occasionally I would appear on TV next to him, smiling with glee whenever I got the camera’s attention. The experiences were surreal, so distant from humanity. The thing that brought us back to reality were the attacks.
Aged ten, Korey and I walked home from school. It wasn’t unusual for that to happen - mom worked until six and Monty often had meetings midday. What was unusual was Korey’s behaviour. I often enjoyed the company of the older boy. I didn’t then. He kept changing our route, going off the roads and through the forests. Mom had always said to stay on the path, never to wander. I’d heard Little Red Riding Hood to know there were dangers lurking behind the trees. I tried to convince Korey to go back to the open road. He told me we couldn’t go that way. I asked why not. He pointed at the road. It was deserted, with the exception of one car.
A car that had been following us the whole journey.
I stood still, rooted to the ground with fear. Suddenly I was shoved behind Korey. A bullet came flying past us. It rebounded off a sign post that warned of rabbits. I screamed. Korey screamed. We were silenced as the window rolled open. The words he spoke were branded onto my forehead, never to fade.
“ELEMENTAL SCUMS! YOU’LL BURN IN HELL!”
A gun glinted from within the car. We didn’t wait to see if it was to be raised. I was uprooted as Korey grabbed my arm. We ran for our very lives. We didn’t stop until we reached our house, until we entered Monty’s arms.
At home, mom wept. Monty made a joke, saying we’ll be the ones making the fires in hell. Kayce joked that if all Elementals go to hell, Water’s would be sure to put out the fires. Mom feared our safety, asking Monty if we could move to a safer area. He shook is head, believing it wouldn't happen again.
It happened twenty minutes later. The bullet just grazed my ear.
Not long after that, mom and I moved away. We still spoke to them, but not as often as we had during my childhood. I missed them terribly, finding any excuse to meet them. Monty was my idol, and Korey was my best friend. I felt like myself around them. I could feel freedom with them.
On one visit to their house, I followed the family to the stream. We laughed and played, praising the sunshine above. It was like every other time. Korey and my uncle shared a look, signalling something I couldn't understand.
Monty pointed at something behind me, telling me to look. I turned around, excited to see whatever it was. Small fingers wrap around my neck. In a second I was forced downwards. Water ensnared me. My mouth was filled with water. I pushed against the fingers around my neck. They could not be moved. I struggled in the water. I felt death begin to carry me.
A fragmented voice sounded above me, as if from a broken speaker. “My boy! Let me save you!”
The fingers loosened, as did death’s grip. An arm came round my waist. I was risen out the water. Life shone into me. Light bathed my weakened body as I found myself again. When I opened my eyes, I was confronted by a barrier of cameras. They flashed continuously into my eyes. I wasn’t aware of what was happening, flowing with the lights as Monty was praised for his manliness. People dried me off, saying how grateful I must’ve been, to have Monty in my life. Just like the news reporters, I thought he’d saved me.
Korey stood besides us, as dry as the sahara desert. Things began to dawn on me then. He was never involved in the publicity the way I was. He never had to be victimised so that Monty could be shown as the saviour. I saw no difference between us. My infantile mind couldn’t understand it.
Mom was furious when we arrived back home. “You’re willing to hurt my son just for publicity? What kind of man does that!”
“Calm your self. No harms been done. Ty’s a strong lad. He knows what he’s got to do to uphold the family honour. Ain’t that right Ty?”
I nodded, falling into his lap as I had done so many times. I usually felt safe with him. For the first time I was on edge. I was terrified he’d smash my face with a whisky bottle and clean my wounds for the six o’clock news.
I guess that was when I began to realise, slowly but surely, Monty was killing me.
"Jackie, a few cuts and grazes along the way is necessary. Don’t you see? This is the life we've always wanted! Why fight it?"
"No this is the life you've always wanted. Not me, not the kids - you. Live how you want, but don't get us involved in your schemes."
We all moved away from him then. We didn't see Monty for a year. That was a difficult year. Both Korey and I found out we were gay, and mom lost two jobs within six months. Monty might not have been around, but he was sure to make his presence known. He showered us in gifts, apologising everytime. Somehow the man poisoned my brain, making me want to see him.
Apprehensively, mom allowed us to arrange a meeting with him, on the condition that she came too. We met in a coffee shop, in public in case he tried to harm us. The conversation started with him saying he was a new man. He spoke of his travels across Europe. Apparently the clean air in the Alps had cleared his mind, allowing him to attain inner peace. That’s why he added Lunaire to his name, to demonstrate he was at one with nature. I believed it when he said he’d changed. To an extent it was true... It's just, the changes made him worse.
We didn’t know it then, but there was a more sinister objective when he went to Europe. It wasn’t as peaceful a trip as he said it was. He hunted down specialists, torturing them until he got the information he desired. He travelled to the furthest corners of the Alps to find a hermit, cut off from society for his knowledge. It was with the hermit that he learnt Les Sorts de Cauchemar.
Les Sorts de Cauchemar (translated as the Nightmare Spells) were a collection of enchantments, banned hundred of years ago for being too brutal. They were discovered by French experimentalists, who were researching ways to live forever. Their own lives were cut short by the enchantments. They could cause death, or worse. Learning those spells was illegal, and yet Monty was determined to master them. He added Lunaire to his name to prove the darkness he was willing to embrace. He wanted peace, but believed he had to fight for it. Knowing the most inhumane spells possible was his way of winning.
A few months after reconnecting with him, Mom let us be alone with him. He took us to his Vegas apartment, sitting us down in his own library. That was where he began to teach us what the hermit had taught him. We learnt a great deal about Elemental history, our powers, and our rights. He made us appreciate the honour of our family name and our abilities as Fires.
It wasn’t all theory though. He taught us the enchantments deemed too heinous to exist. He believed we needed to know them in order to defend our rights as humans. We were reluctant to learn. It meant losing my innocence too early. It meant staying up until the early hours of the morning just because my strike wasn’t perfect. It meant lying to mom when we returned home with bruises and broken limbs.
With oppression comes rebellion, and Korey rebelled, by shooting me.
The bullet buried in my wrist. After a long debate, I was eventually sent to hospital. Mom was lead to believe it was just protesters, not my relative, who’d shot me. I tried to forgive Korey - I truly did - but the scars remained, on the outside and the inside.
The worst part was my father’s reaction the the scenario. Most parents would punish their child for injuring another. He did the opposite, now abhorrent to reason. He praised Korey, seeing the soldier potential within him. He trained him harder, forcing him to learn more than I. I soon became a target practice for him. That’s how I learnt self defence - by protecting myself against his attacks.
One attack neither of us were prepared for the worst on of all.
The Vegas Massacre.
Monty was growing more and more insane around that time. He treated us harsher, lashing out whenever we spoke. Other people in EM decided to manage the peace treaty that was in the works, in case he messed it up. They couldn’t get rid of him, because he was convincing. People believed him.
All my faith in him was left to rot in the dust by then.
Korey and I travelled to his house in a black limousine, as we always did. We bickered over the most meaningless of things, throwing punches whenever the car stopped at a set of lights. We got out along the Vegas Strip, as usual. The car drove away as soon as the door slammed shut. Too late did we realise we were in the midst of a riot.
Protesters moved around us, chanting and jeering. All of a sudden we were being moved with the crowds. We held hands with tight grips, so we didn't separate. We looked around wildly for some kind of help. There was none. The police squad walked among them, hands resting on their guns. They weren't going to help us. They were working for the AE. When other people caught our eye, they grinned in glee, and took photos. News reporters shouted in our ears, saying Monty Moon was being a bad parent by letting us out in the middle of a protest.
A man in green bumped into us. His eyes widened as he registered who were. “Save the Yokelas!” he cried.
A taxi sped past. It was stopped by another protester in green. “Ther's two Yokelas!” the stranger cried. The doors opened. Korey kept a hold of my hand, leading me to the car. Through the mounds of people we reached it. He pushed me in first. I stumbled across, surprised when he hadn’t fallen on me. I looked back up. His hand was on the door handle.
A blood curdling scream sounded. A gun shot followed. Then the crowd surged. They began to march. They picked up everything in their path. Including Korey. I shouted his name, reaching for his hand.
It was the first time I saw him afraid… and the last.
His face disappeared as the crowd swallowed him whole.
I screamed out, as the door was closed. I banged against the window, waiting to see him re-emerge. He never did. The elderly couple I was sharing the taxi with watched me without a word. Once I let out my anger, they simply asked for my autograph.
A dead teenager was said to be found later that evening. No image was shown, but I knew it was most likely Korey. And it was all my fault.
I admitted everything that evening. I told mom about the training, about the gun incident, about the certifiably insane man that was bound to come for us. Mom told me none of it wasn't my fault at all, as we cried on each other’s shoulder. That was the last time I allowed myself to cry. I knew I had to man up.
Mom rose up, strength renewed. She told me we had to leave the town, the state. We needed a new start, away from the cameras. She wanted us to disappear, and I was more than happy to comply. She called many people, making arrangements for our future. I packed some of our things, waiting to wake up.
I still haven’t woken up.
As I set one more box of memories on fire, there was a hammering on the front door. Mom opened the door slightly. the door jolted as someone pushed against. The metal-chain lock prevented the angry person from opening it further.
“Let me in” the familiar voice growled, like the Big Bad Wolf.
“Never.”
“Where’s the boy?”
“Which boy?”
“Don’t fuck with me I swear-”
“You have no right to demand anything from me. Get off my property.”
“It’s the property of Yokela’s. It’s my property.”
“We aren't Yokela’s any more, and you have no power in here. Now leave."
“He’s killed my boy, my special boy. I want to see some punishment! LET ME PASS OUT JUSTICE!”
He punched the door. The door rattled. From my spot on the staircase I called out “Mom?”
Mom didn't turn around. Her back grew straighter, still staring down Monty. Her voice was devoid of emotions. "Tyler, get in the car. We’re leaving right now.”
He cackled psychotically. "Tyler? You can't go 'round callin' him that! That ain't even his name." “I just did. If you stay here any longer I won’t hesitate to call the police and ruin what’s left of your reputation.”
In a moment he left. I don’t know where he went to. Maybe he went home, to find the other politician Paul Clark in his home, who he then murdered there. Maybe he was the one to set the house on fire, burning out his last humanity. Maybe he went to the Vegas Strip, to search for the lost boy once again.
We didn't stay to find out what he did. Mom and I got in the car, leaving the past in the smouldering boxes left on the curb. On a drive that took a lifetime, I learnt my new identity. I shed the skin of my previous self, becoming a boy named Tyler Oakley. I dyed my hair. I had to change my body shape by exercising everyday. I got new glasses, and a phoenix tattoo to cover the gunshot scar. We drove until we reached a small town thousands of miles away from those who knew us - a small town that became the safest place I’d ever known. A town I am eternally grateful we went to.
*
“And I guess you know the rest. I met you, hated you, and now am deeply infatuated with you.”
Troye hadn't spoken once during my monologue. He listened to me, trying to keep his face emotionless as I spoke. Once of twice he held my hand, when my throat caught, but otherwise he didn't react.
“That’s not the whole story, is it?”
I turned away, biting my lip. I knew I missing out vital information, things that would wipe out the sympathy on his face, but I couldn't face answering his questions then. “I don’t-”
His fingers latched round my hand. “Ty, it’s okay. I don’t need anything else right now. I’m glad you told me as much as you have.”
“So, do you want me to get out now?”
“Why would I want that?” I could practically hear his frown.
“You hate me, don’t you?”
“Ty…”His soft voice made me turn my head. His eyes were swimming sympathy, with islands of curiosity. “This changes nothing.”
“But I was-"
His hand came up to my face, thumb trailing over my cheek. “That's not the you I know. The you I know means everything to me. The past is just a small part of you, a part that means nothing if that's what you want. I wouldn't change anything about you."
I let out a quivering laugh. "Not even my height?"
"Not even that."
With our eyes closing, our lips met. It was different from the others. It felt precious, delicate, as if he could tell I was in a fragile state of mind. He knew more about me, knew things that most people had never even thought possible. His knowledge made the kiss more safe, comforting me, telling me he was willing to listen whenever I needed him to.
When the moment passed, Troye drove us out the deserted car park Down the darkening streets we travelled, until we reached my side of town. He still didn't know where I lived, so he dropped me off a few streets away. With one last kiss, I reluctantly got out the car.
“Night Troyeboy."
“Sweet dreams Tilly.”
I closed the door, wishing I could stay with him. We waved at one another until his face became nothing more than a patch of inscrutable colour. Eventually I plucked up the courage to head home, my step lighter than it had been for years. Being able to relieve my tale was a blessing I thought I would never have. Telling Troye the truth wasn't as bad as I thought.
I walked up to my front door, knowing I'd have to tell mom I'd told Troye. I hoped she didn't get too mad. I couldn't regret what I'd done. As my key turned in the lock, a car drove by. I froze, watching it pass in slow motion. The government music was playing from inside. The driver was wearing an AE uniform, urgently speaking into her phone. The car was sprayed gold, with a painting on the side. The painting was of a woman, but not just any woman: it was President Kahnye-Knot.
It sped round the corner, leaving smoke in its wake. In a hurry I unlocked the front door. I got inside as quickly as possible, slamming the door behind me. I spun round, already knowing what I’d see.
Everything was boxed up. No photos hung from the walls. It was colder inside the house than it ever had been. Mom paced around the room, hiding more and more objects within the boxes. When she noticed my presence, she paused. Her red eyes stared back at me.
“Mom…”
She wiped her tear stained cheeks.“They’re in the neighbourhood. We have to leave.”
No.
No
A/N
So, exciting news - THIS STORY REACHED 12K READS AND 1K VOTES LIKE WHAT ON EARTH *coughs and settles back down* Imma try sound casual because I feel too many things and no amount of letters can possibly describe my how grateful I am for this. I know saying how many reads is the thing people skip (I’ve done it myself a few times) so I vow to not do it so often. It just seems like such a weird thing, that people are reading something that I was so hesitant to ever put up, and it’s made me so much happier with life in general and it’s given me hope that maybe, possibly, one day I could write on the side of another career, instead of just doing mathematics like I’m planning on at the moment, so thank you all for sticking with the story. Every vote and comment makes me grin like the moon’s just said hello wait that’s a weird comparison but um yeah, ily ◠◡◠
For those wondering, I found out on the bus home from school. I might’ve screamed. The hot guy from before might’ve given me a weird look. It’s safe to say any chance I’d ever had with anyone on the bus went with the whole discovering-the-gay-fanfic-I’m-writing-in-another-language incident a while back. Fortunately I don’t mind that, because I am a strong independent woman, who don’t need no man.
Just fanfics, internet and ice cream will do
Emma x
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