HAPPY THURSDAY WATTPAD!!!
Yes, I know I missed Wednesday. But in all honesty, I thought today was Wednesday! I've spent hours and hours and HOURS this week sitting on my bed, working on something massive for you. And as it turns out, I was working for so long that I forgot what day it was, much less the fact that I was supposed to be posting!
Anyway, I'm here now. As for the thing I was working on... You'll see. *cue evil, excited laughter*
Now, let's not keep you waiting any longer! Let's get straight to it!
PREVIOUSLY ON THE FAMOUX: So, as we know, Carstan's here, and he's here to stay. Norax has just named him the new advisor of the Famoux, and he has a grand plan to make the current members mentor the future generation of members. Also, our last chapter ended with Emeray stowing herself away in her room and wanting absolutely no visitors. Well, she's about to get one. Who? The incomparable cult favorite, Till Amaris!
emeray
Just as Gerald announces her, Till is already stepping inside, pushing past him before I can tell him whether or not I'd like a visitor at this time. She moves like a comet, a brilliant flash of short blonde hair moving through the room with such speed and efficiency, I have no time to even begin concealing the gin labels and DEFED note on my sheets before she's right there at the foot of my bed.
From the door, Gerald strains. "Miss Amaris––"
Till cuts him off, addressing me sternly. "You knew him, didn't you?"
Her gaze is so intense, her eyes so electric blue, it hurts me to look at her. All at once I become wholly cognizant of the fact that one-on-one time with Till is a rarity for me. How long has it been since we've been the only two people in a room together, if ever?
I'm so busy staring at her that her question flies right over my head. I sputter, feeling strangely starstruck. "I'm . . . I . . . What did you say?"
"Carstan," she says. "You knew him."
All at once, I freeze up. The way her face changes from curious to assured, I can tell my reaction is enough of an answer. From the corner of my eye I see Gerald quickly shuts the door behind him, ever following the new sentry protocol.
"How . . . How did you know?" I ask.
What she says next should call for hesitation, for pause. She should be shifting her feet, fidgeting her hands, stumbling on her words. But Till Amaris is stoic. Standing straight and tall with the best posture I've ever seen, she speaks clearly and swiftly.
And her words knock me out.
"I knew him too."
"What?"
"I don't know why I didn't put it together before. She looks off past me for second before locking her electric eyes back down on mine. "It makes sense now."
I'm still so dizzy from what she's just told me, I can barely understand anything else. "What makes sense?"
"You're Emilee Parvenu."
It's as if a cavern has opened. A rushing cataract, pouring out all over the floor from the walls. If I wasn't sitting on my bed already, I'd likely fall straight to the floor.
The people we were before the Famoux is a topic that rarely gets brought up around the five of us. Even when DEFED gave us gifts with vicious hints and adorned the Volxsturm with our old names, never have I actually sat down and discussed at length that time of our lives with anyone other than Chapter. And even then, I don't know much about his life as Roman.
All I know about Till is that she was once engaged to be married, but she's never wanted to divulge any further. It's just not something we want to use our time to talk about. It's uncomfortable. It's taboo.
But right here in this moment, I need to know everything.
"How did you––how did . . ." I'm a loss for words. "What?"
"My boyfriend was friends with him," she said. "We lived in a different town, so I only really met him once or twice, but he was always boasting about whatever he'd just done to you. Him and his friend, what was his name?"
"Felix."
"Yes, that's it. Felix."
She notices the way I've concaved into my pillow, and she grabs my hand, taking a seat on the bed next to me.
"I thought he was cruel," Till tells me. "I always never knew what my boyfriend saw in him––why he'd ever want to be around a guy like that. But then, of course, I realized that he was quite a cruel man himself."
She says it so steadily, so certainly, almost casually. I can't imagine talking about the pain of the past in such a way. But Till––Till speaks of the past with resolution, knowing firmly that the past is not the present. Her boyfriend is not here in this house. He's a ghost story that can no longer hurt her.
I wish I could say the same.
My mind is still reeling from all the news. I struggle to process my questions, put an order to them. The first one that comes to mind comes out of my mouth.
"Do you think he knows?"
"About us?" When I nod, she nods. "I don't know how he couldn't. Norax has to have given him the files on our pasts."
"But . . . But then he'd . . ."
It fades off as I look to Till helplessly. She gives my hand a squeeze. Just before she's about to speak, perhaps to bestow some reassurance, her eyes fall on something just past me. Letting go of my hand, she plucks the DEFED note from atop my duvet, eyes somehow going even wider and bluer.
"What is this?"
"Wait!" I exclaim. "Don't look at––"
When I go to grab it, she stands back up from the bed, stepping just far enough away to be out of my reach. She reads out loud.
"You have always been caged. But worry not." She takes a pause, letting the words sink in before finishing. "We are here to free you. Soon."
She looks back up at me, face swirling with some kind of emotion I can't read. My heart, racing even faster now, takes a dip.
"Till, I'm sorry. I can explain," I say. "I didn't want to show anyone that yet. I was just waiting for the right moment to finally––"
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.