Then he walks away, leaving me clutching an electric razor, with my head spinning.
Wait, he wantsmeto shave Dash’s head??
Usually Velle or Joy does it. Having me do it for Dash must be a joke, or a test, or…
“You’re welcome.”
A gift.Of course… he’sgiftingme this agonizing introduction.
I’m freaking out even more now as I enter the room and get in line beside the rest of the team. This production we’ve done roughly one hundred times now. It’s not always exactly like this—in the early days, it was certainly different. But over the last few years, as we’ve taken in more and more inmates, this part has become something of a show. A spectacle.
Aperformancefor The Ivory to put on. He’s the star, and the rest of us are just extras.
I’m shaking down to my goddamn marrow, though on the outside, I’m still. I dare not move an inch out of place, or express anything but dead-eyed indifference. Still, I can feel everysecondthat ticks by while I await him. Each breath stings as if it’s below freezing in here.
And then I hear it. Footsteps, and chains.
He’s coming.
Shivers consume me as I blink slow.
Chill, man. Jesus, he’s just a fucking person.
For all you know, he’s a total dick, or a creep, or an idiot. At this point, you’ve built this crush up so high in your imagination, there’s no way he’lleverlive up to it. And that’s good, because he’s just ahumanfuckingbeing, and chances are the second you see him in real life, the illusion will shatter like thin glass.
There’s no way he’s that hot in real life. There’s no possible way he’s asperfectas you’re imagining in your head, so just get over—
The door opens. And in shuffles this… kid. This man, though an obviously younger one, with silvery blonde hair strewn about. Shivering pink lips, a flush in his cheeks, and very visible fear in his lustrous eyes that he’s clearly trying to cover up with hostility. Even so, he’s just…so…
Holy… fuck.
That’s him.That’sDash…
I’m not breathing.
There’s a facade of hard he’s putting up like a front, for protection. But it’s easy to see through. In truth, he’s young, scared, and in way over his head.
And I’m genuinely aching.
Dascha… It’s really you.
My heart feels like it’s leaping out of my chest as Jasper and Linetti drag him farther into the room. His face tilts allaround, confusion lining that flawless porcelain complexion. They usually always look some variation of worried, but onDashit’s purely stunning. Like every one of his emotions brings a different shade of beauty to his features.
Jesus, Mary, and Joseph…Wheredid this being come from??
The person before me is amillion timesmore stunning than any picture could ever portray. He’s gorgeous, so much so that for a moment, I think I might be hallucinating.
He can’t be real…
No one on thisplanetlooks like that.
But then the Warden speaks his name. And I know he’s really here.
Dash is real… He’sreal, and he’shere.
He’s not a mugshot in the newspaper, or a tiny thumbnail attached to an article on my phone. He’s here in this room; squirming and twitchy andalive.
My sad angel, merefeetfrom where I’m standing.
