Page 5 of Fatality

CHAPTER 1

Riven

This Is How I Disappear - My Chemical Romance

Natural daylight blends with the artificial glow bleeding through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a soft, muted light across my loft.

The bathroom is still thick with steam, my glass of synthetic orange juice rests on the counter—no real fruit in it, obviously.

In this city, real fruit, meat, or anything that isn't synthetic doesn't cost just an arm or a leg—It costs both.

Despite going on with my routine I usually do before going to work, the nightmare still clings to my mind like a fucking leech.

I sigh.

Why did I have to see that again? It's been eleven years.

I was twelve.

Why do I still have—I roughly splash cold water on my face.

My reflection stares back at me from the mirror, my hair still damp from the shower.

I grab a towel with more force than necessary, hastily drying it off before tying up my hair into a messy bun before brushing my teeth.

The thing with my hair is that it's painfully ordinary.

It's straight, I don't have bangs, and I'm a middle-part kind of woman.

I wanted to cut it into a bob not that long ago, but then I remembered what I looked like the last time—Like I had a fucking helmet on.

My comm suddenly vibrates across the bathroom counter with an insistent buzz.

Its transparent screen lights up, projecting my group chat with my friends upright into the air—DEGENERATES.

I groan and roll my eyes, pausing what I'm doing.

Muttering under my breath, I snatch the comm off the counter.

I spit out the last traces of the disgusting menthol-flavored synthetic toothpaste, rinse my mouth, and get dressed.

A few minutes later, I step into the lobby of my building.

“Morning, Miss Laordie.” The building manager smiles at me and bows respectfully as I pass, I return the gesture with a small nod of my head.

He's a tall man with graying hair, probably in his mid-forties, and he's always smiling.

At first, when I bought my loft, I thought he was just doing his job.

Sometimes, when I come home late or completely drunk, we end up talking for a while then he walks me all the way to my door, making sure I get home safely.

“Morning, Jacob. I hope Nya and the kids are doing okay.” I smile back.

Not the kind of real smile I give Jules and Charlie, it’s softer and more polite.

“Yes, they are.” He nods again “Thank you, Miss Laordie."

I step outside only to find Charlie already bouncing on the balls of her feet, grey eyes sparkling with anticipation.