“Not yourself?” he offers, brow raised.
I nod, pulling the smoke into my lungs before passing the joint back to him.
“Well, you weren’t earlier, but you seem to be now,” he says, taking it from my fingers. “So, start from the beginning.”
I do.
I tell him everything– about Gideon’s phone call, the ride back to the city, the ambush at the Dollhouse. About the days of isolation and the way time seemed to stretch on forever. About how Bailey and her guys broke me out, and the Kings brought me back here afterward.
Bryce doesn’t interrupt except for the occasional muttered ‘holy shit’or ‘that’s so fucked’. At some point he migrates from the chair to the bed, settling in beside me. The proximity is a comfort; a little slice of normalcy that I didn’t even know how badly I needed.
The joint burns down to nothing somewhere in the middle of the story, the haze in my head softening the world at the edges. By the time I finish, it feels like a huge weight’s been lifted off my shoulders.
“So now you’re just… stuck here?” Bryce asks, pushing his hair out of his eyes.
I nod, leaning back on my hands. “Pretty much. But make no mistake, I’m back with a vengeance. I’m done taking their shit lying down.”
A slow grin spreads across his face, the realest one I’ve seen since I walked into the room. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
I match his smile as I reply, “Revolution.”
“Fuck yeah!” he exclaims, clapping his hands together. “Well shit, sign me up. When do we start?”
I laugh, and the sound is so unfamiliar that it takes me a second to recognize it as my own. I let it happen anyway, the giddy energy spilling out.
“Already did,” I tell him proudly.
Bryce clutches his chest dramatically, gasping. “Without me?”
I roll my eyes and swat at his arm.
“Tell me,” he presses, leaning forward eagerly.
“Well, I figure I’m not gonna win against the Kings by fighting them openly,” I say. “But if I play along, let them think I’m content being their Doll, then maybe I can pick them off one by one.”
Bryce studies me, arching a skeptical brow. “You seriously think you can outmaneuver the Kings?”
“Not all at once,” I admit. “But the thing that makes them powerful is each other. Individually, they’re just…”
“Assholes with nice hair?” he interjects, smirking.
I huff out a quiet laugh. “Yeah. Assholes with nice hair and way too much unchecked power.”
He watches me for a moment, something like pride flickering in his eyes. “You’re a beautiful genius, Ava Morrow. You know that?”
I roll my eyes, but the compliment lands somewhere deep inside me, softening a small piece of something broken there.
“Shut up,” I chuckle. “And anyway, it won’t happen overnight. I have to get close to them first, figure out what makes each of them tick. And once I know that…” I shrug. “Then maybe I can turn them against each other. Cut the head off the snake.”
Bryce nods slowly, digesting the idea. After a moment, he leans back on his elbows, stretching his legs out across the bed. “Are you sure you wanna do this? If they catch on…”
“Yes,” I reply without hesitation.
He grins. “Then fuck it. I’m in.”
“I can’t let you get involved in this,” I protest, shaking my head. “I’m only telling you because you’re the only real friend I’ve ever had, and you deserved the truth.”
“Psh.” He waves that away immediately. “Every revolution needs a hype man. You couldn’t get rid of me now if you tried.”
