Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Vi’s hand hit the alarm clock with startling strength, sending the doomed plastic hell siren rocketing towards the nearest wall where it shattered into tiny, ruined splinters, the bedroom–finally–blessedly silent. 

Her head felt like it had spent the better part of last night in a hydraulic press, her stomach unsettled, limbs heavy, joints stiffer than they had any right to be at 24 years old. A hard 24. Hard fought and hard lost. Her very existence a fuckin miracle and a curse all at once. 

“Uuuggghhhh,” Vi groaned, the act of opening her eyes suddenly more difficult than anything she’d ever done in the gym. In her life, maybe. 

A body stirred beside her, warm and naked and fuck , she didn’t have time for this. 

“Hey,” she greeted, placing a scarred hand on the stranger’s shoulder to shake her awake, a poor substitute for good morning but she’d lost the ability to tell these interactions apart. 

The woman frowned first, fair features scrunching before her eyes blinked open. “Hey, yourself,” she replied groggily, a smile threatening to stretch her lips. 

“Guest shower’s that way,” Vi nodded down the hall. “I need you out of here in 20.” She didn’t wait to watch the woman’s expression twist in disappointment, the smile drain from her face…instead, she rose from the bed, teeth grinding with the effort, walking to her closet to throw on a hoodie and some joggers that were strewn haphazardly on the floor, plus a pair of sneakers that probably cost more than a month’s rent in the basement apartment she’d grown up in. 

The woman was sitting up in bed now, blanket clutched to her naked chest. “I thought we had a good time.” 

“I’m sure we did,” Vi affirmed, distractedly, as she knelt to tie her shoes. “You’re hot, I’m late, leave me your number and I’ll call next time I’m free.” 

She wouldn’t. 

Or, maybe she would. Maybe they really did have a good time, Vi had no idea, but maybe she’d remember once she got around to finishing the rest of the open bottle of Jack on her nightstand. 

“I had you sign the NDA, right?” 

“Yeah, last night.” 

Vi nodded, instantly regretting it for how it worsened her headache. “Cool. I’ll see you around, then.” 

She got the hint, the stranger finally rising from the bed, taking the sheet with her, wrapped around her like a robe, the extra fabric trailing behind her down the hallway and into the guest bathroom. 

Vi passed her garage full of grotesquely expensive cars she wasn’t allowed to drive on her way to the town car waiting just outside the motorized gates, previously designed to keep the paparazzi out, now there to keep Vi separated from the world she’d soured on years ago. 

The driver got out to open the back door for her and Vi offered a nod, a muttered “Thanks” as she slipped inside, making herself comfortable on the plush leather. 

Without a word, the driver started the engine, beginning their hopefully quiet journey to their destination. 

Not quiet, though. He had the radio on, and the universe had a vendetta, evidently. 

"I didn’t know that I was starving till I tasted you / Don’t need no butterflies when you give me the whole damn zoo"

Vi’s fist clenched, nausea suddenly overwhelming. 

"By the way by the way you do things to my body / I didn’t know that I was starving till I tasted you"

“Can you turn that off or down or change the station?” Vi asked, none-too-kindly. 

The driver rushed to comply, fumbling with the tuning dial and managing to turn it both away from and back to the station they’d already been listening to. By some miracle, however, the song had already ended. 

“A little Powder-Keg throwback for you,” the DJ was saying. “We’ll be back with some new Ekko after the break.” 

Vi had never been so grateful for advertisements.

“Sorry,” the driver apologized, catching her eyes in the mirror. “My daughter really likes that one.” 

Vi snorted, hopefully not loud enough for him to hear, mumbling, “I’m sure she does,” as she slid her phone out of her pocket, ignoring the nearly 50 unread text messages and navigating to her email to confirm the meeting time. The meeting she was already late to. Not that it really mattered, literally nothing did anymore. 

With a sigh, she locked her phone, leaning her head back and closing her eyes. “You want an autograph or something? For your daughter?” she could feel his eyes on her in the mirror again. 

“She’d love that. Thank you so much.” 

“Anytime,” Vi said, blinking up at the ceiling now, not sure if she wanted the drive to be over with or stretch on forever. 

In the end, they arrived outside the imposing downtown skyscraper sooner than Vi had hoped, her driver coming to a stop at the curb, Vi leaning forward to take the pen and notebook he handed her. She scribbled out a signature, holding the paper a moment longer as she considered adding a lyric, although “I was so much younger yesterday” was all that came to mind, so she left it.  

“Thank you!” he said, again, as she slammed the door shut behind her, pausing to push a pair of sunglasses onto her face and pull her hood over her unruly shock of magenta hair. 

The lettering built into the wall above the receptionists desk read Kiramman Records , in case Vi doubted she was in the right place. 

“Cassandra Kiramman,” Vi told the pretty woman sitting at the front desk without further preamble. “I’m late.” 

“Your name is Late?”

“No, my name is Vi.” 

“Vi as in… Vi ?”

“The one and only.” She watched the woman blush, though she attempted to cover it up with a swift nod as she stood to show her the elevator. 

“Top floor, she’s expecting you.” 

“Great.” 

The office was all old wood, heavy furniture upholstered in rich reds and blues–not the beanbag chairs and glass walls of the hip start ups she’d been to, nor the crisp lines and sharp, stark edges of the new bastions of the industry. 

Kiramman records was an institution, and Cassandra Kiramman was nothing if not a household name. 

“Vi,” the older woman greeted her, all severe cheekbones, blue eyes and gray streaked hair, completely imposing in her ruffled blouse and tight skirt. “You look a mess.” 

I am a mess. “Laundry day,” was the explanation she chose to go with. 

“Are you drunk?

“Hungover.” 

“Mm,” Cassandra tutted, obviously unimpressed as she clicked the intercom button on her desk phone. “Please bring my guest some ibuprofen and a bottle of water,” she instructed, her cold gaze never wavering. “And perhaps a sandwich. Something with bacon on it.” 

Vi had never loved her more than in that moment. “Thanks.”

“Please, sit,” Cassandra instructed, motioning to the couch behind her that looked like it belonged on the Titanic. “You’re late and we have much to go over.” 

Vi did as she was told, plopping down on the grandiose furniture, legs spread wide, hands coming to rest on her strong thighs as she leaned back. “I’m all ears.” 

“Take those sunglasses off, then, and that silly hood,” Cassandra said. “I’ll dim the windows, if need be, but this is a business meeting.”

Sorry , Vi almost said, but she bit her tongue, still too proud for that as she stripped her hood back and folded her sunglasses in her hand, tossing them on the coffee table in front of her. “Your turf, your terms. Message received.” 

“I’ve brought Mr. Jayce Talis on to manage you,” Cassandra announced, moving along. “You’ll meet him this afternoon. I doubt you’ll get along on a personal level, but you’ll be good for each other. Jayce is a man I trust, a protege of mine, really, and he knows what he’s doing. You won’t be punching any paparazzi on his watch.” 

Vi flinched at the flippant reference. 

“He also manages Ekko, which provides excellent collaboration potential. His duet with Jinx has been dominating alternative streaming platforms like Tiktok and that’s the exact sort of exposure you need.” 

“Haven’t heard it,” Vi mumbled, chest seizing at the mention of her sister. 

“I’m not asking you to listen, just to keep an open mind,” Cassandra clarified, sitting down across from her. “The whole album has already been written for you. Jayce will introduce you to your new producer later on today. Recording will begin next week, I’ll trust Jayce to hammer out the finer scheduling details with you, but it needs to be finished by the end of this month as the release party has already been booked. Is that all clear?” 

“Uh, so I’m not–not writing my own stuff?” 

“Absolutely not,” Cassandra almost laughed. “Your last solo album is proof enough that Jinx was Powder-Keg’s writer and you were simply the front man; there’s nothing wrong with that. I don’t need you to be a songwriter, I have hundreds of those at my disposal. I need your voice, your stage presence and your star power. Can you do that for me?” 

Vi was still busy deciding whether or not to be offended when the question was posed, so it took her a moment to answer, “I guess.” 

“Wonderful,” Cassandra clapped once. “It would seem we’re on the same page, then. It appears your lunch is here,” she waved her assistant in, the young woman carrying a to-go container, a bottle of ibuprofen and the water that had been requested. “Legal should be finished with the formal contract by the time Jayce arrives, I’ll get some signatures from you and let him take you through the rest of your day.” She stood. “Feel free to eat in here, I have a lunch meeting with my daughter so I’ll be off now, but welcome aboard, Vi. Kiramman Records is grateful to have been entrusted with this next stage of your career. I can assure you it will be a comeback for the ages.”

Chapter Text

Cassandra was right, Vi did not like Jayce. Didn’t like his optimism or stupid little jokes that Vi would have described as ‘dad caliber’ had he been a father, didn’t like his double breasted suit for a random Tuesday in March or his perfect hair or his broad chest or his jaw that looked like it belonged on a discontinued action figure. 

She did not like Jayce, and 20 minutes into their meeting, it was starting to look like the feeling was mutual. 

The contract was long and boring and the language was dense and Vi definitely should have had a lawyer present when she signed it, but it promised money so she didn’t really give a shit. She was bordering on destitute here, surviving off Powder-Keg royalties and thanking whatever god most benefited her that she already owned her house outright. 

So she signed on the dotted line, her formal signature, last name included, rather than the autograph version that grew somehow less practiced with overuse. 

“Great, now that that’s over with…” Jayce took the contract from her, folding it back up and slipping it into an envelope to leave with whoever ‘legal’ was. “We should head down to the studio,” he stood, offering Vi his hand for help to her feet…which she thought was weird. 

She ignored the gesture, standing of her own volition and following him out of Cassandra’s office, positive now that he skipped leg day. 

“I heard your old manager passed away,” Jayce prompted, like the death of the only father figure Vi had ever known was a subject for small talk. 

“Wow, you can use the internet. I’m definitely in good hands here.” 

“How long’s it been since you talked to your sister?” 

“What is this, 20 shitty questions?” 

Jayce cleared his throat as they stepped into the elevator. “Just trying to make conversation.” 

“Try harder,” Vi sneered, crossing her arms, that sandwich and those painkillers having helped with her hangover but certainly not cured it. “Or maybe not at all.” 

“We’re going to be working very closely together, Vi, we’re going to need to learn a little about each other eventually.” 

“Alright, well, why don’t you start with my favorite color or something.”

“OK…” Jayce stuck his hands in his pockets as the elevator descended to the 5th floor. “What’s your favorite color?” 

“I don’t know.”

“Mine’s gold.” 

“That’s dumb.” 

Jayce chuckled at that. “Have you met Caitlyn yet?” 

“Who’s that?” 

“Sometimes it’s like this, trying to have a conversation with her.” 

“Who’s Caitlyn?” 

“You’ll probably meet her at the release party,” Jayce assured, stepping out into the hallway. “We won’t be recording anything today, just sort of…vision boarding, if you will.” 

I won’t. 

“The sound, the look, the feel, all that. We want you to really buy into the whole concept.” 

“You already have all that stuff figured out though, right?” They stopped in front of a door labeled ‘Studio 6’. “So the point of all this isn’t to ask for my input, it’s to tell me how I’ll sound, how I’ll look, how I’ll feel. And all that,” Vi mocked. “Sound about right?” 

Jayce’s hand paused on the door. “Yes, sounds about right.” And with that, he pushed it open, stepping into a small lounge outside the sound and recording booths. 

There were three people waiting for them–two women and a man. The first woman was out of this world beautiful, the second seemed like a pencil pusher type, clipboard in hand, pressing her glasses up the bridge of her nose, and the man looked a little, uh , sickly, like he hadn’t seen the sun, protein or a warm bed in a while. 

“Vi, meet Viktor, your producer.” The sickly man nodded weakly at her. “Sky, his production assistant.” The pencil-pusher smiled shyly. “And–,” 

“And I’m Mel,” the goddess before her cut Jayce off, opting to introduce herself instead. “I’ll be handling your image.”

Ah. 

“This is the whole team?” Vi wondered, eyebrows raised at Jayce. 

“Yes,” he confirmed with a nauseatingly handsome smile. “Songs have been written, tracks have been recorded, we just need your vocals and then Viktor and Sky can finish up the hard work, leaving Mel with plenty of time to perfect the new Vi before the release party.”

“The new Vi,” Vi repeated, incredulous. 

Mel smiled at her, eyes appraising. “Just a little smoothing around the edges, I assure you.” 

“Come, let’s get to work,” Viktor prompted in a thick, probably-russian accent, balancing on a cane to hold the door for the recording booth open, ushering everyone inside. “Violet–,” 

“It’s Vi.” 

“–there’s sheet music, there,” Viktor pointed at the piano with his cane. 

Apprehensively, Vi approached the stack of paper, leaning against the piano to read the first page of the lead-off track…and then the second…and then the third, before looking up at her team with a scoff. “You seriously just want me to say ‘ yummy’ for three and a half minutes?” 

“It’s catchy!” Sky rushed to assure her. 

Nonplussed, Vi tossed that song aside, papers scattering dramatically as she grabbed the next. “Break up with your girlfriend…cuz I’m bored,” Vi read aloud. “You can hit it in the morning…like it’s yours…this makes me sound like a fucking bottom.” 

“Our concept of you is as a switch,” Mel explained as if that were helpful.

“Your concept of me?” Vi repeated. “Me, a living, breathing human?” 

“No, no,” Mel laughed that off. “The new Vi, our rehabbed bad boy turned fuckboi next door. Your preferences can remain your own, but on stage and on this album, you’re a switch.” 

Now it was Vi’s turn to laugh, the sound high and hard because this was ridiculous. “Fuck-girl next store. How did that test in focus groups?” 

“Very well,” Jayce answered like the question had been genuine. “That’s where we think you missed on your solo albums, our audience isn’t interested in a grungy, experimental Vi. Jinx has already filled that role, plus she has a manic pop princess thing going for her that’s very popular right now. Your audience used to masturbate to your poster on their wall.” 

Vi’s face screwed up in reaction to hearing Jayce say ‘masturbate’ out loud. Ew . Not the word, just Jayce saying it. 

“And now they’re adults,” he continued. “Now, every time they’re sexually dissappointed by their partners, we want them fantasizing about how you’d rock their world.” 

Vi ran a hand through her hair, grabbing at the roots to try and relieve some of the pressure in her head. “A one night fantasy…because I’m bored…” 

“Exactly,” Mel’s smile was proud, like she was happy Vi seemed to be catching on. “Now, skip to track 6 for a bit of a plot twist.” 

“Ooh, a plot twist,” Vi mocked, though she did as she was told, eyes skimming the lyrics. “ If I Can’t Have You ,” she read the title aloud. “So…all my songs are written with one person in mind…but I’ll still fuck you…but I won’t care…because I’m thinking about her.” 

“Unless, the you in question is her,” Sky grinned. “It’s pretty good, right? They can fantasize about being the one night stand or the one true love, whatever they want from you.” 

Whatever they want from me. 

Whatever they want. From me. They can take it, they can have it. You’re a fucking marketing scheme, Vi, you’re not a person. 

“Doesn’t really matter, does it? What I think?” Vi asked, though the question was rhetorical and she knelt to pick up the papers she’d tossed earlier. “When do you want me in the studio?” 

/

Sweat poured down Vi’s face as she wailed ruthlessly on the punching bag in front of her, trying to tear her gloves or her hands or the bag or whatever could help her feel something. 

She wanted to bleed, to scream, to die, maybe. 

No, not die. She had a sister, even if she wasn’t allowed to see her. A sister who had once relied on her for everything, had once loved her unconditionally, fiercely, was her best collaborator, her best friend…

Now, what were they? Strangers. Separated by time and circumstance and fucking Zaun Recording House. And Vi was a shell of herself–not alone, never alone, but so lonely. Hollowed out, empty. 

And just like that, as if on cue, one of Jinx’s songs began blasting through her headphones–putting her music on shuffle had been a mistake. 

“I’m crazy, but you like that, I bite back”

Vi paused her assault on the heavy bag to tear her gloves off, jogging over to where she’d left her phone so that she could skip it. 

“I’m not Cinderella, but I like the shoes / big glass platforms, bitch, Im choosy” 

Her lock screen wasn’t reading her fingerprint because of how sweaty her hands were. 

“Long blue hair, blue as a bruise / only trust a fella for some light amusement”

Vi eventually gave up on the fingerprint, opting to type out her passcode instead. 

“Fuck a princess, I’m a king / bow down and kiss on my ring”

The song was finally interrupted by a well-timed incoming call, the name ‘Mel Medarda’ flashing on the caller ID. Vi swiped her finger across the screen to answer quicker than she usually would, grateful for the interruption. 

“Hey,” Vi grunted into the receiver, wiping the sweat from her forehead with her sullied handwrap. 

“I’m outside and the gate is locked. What’s your code?”

“Uh,” Vi scrambled to grab her previously discarded tank top, pulling it on over her sports bra. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll just buzz you in.” She hung up, navigating to the app on her phone to open the front gate, watching the security camera feed as Mel’s car gingerly crossed the threshold. 

Vi met her at the front door, watching Mel manage to remain regal even as she dragged a rolling suitcase up the front steps. 

“Did you remember we had a meeting?” Mel asked, pointedly glancing down at Vi’s now bloodied knuckles beneath the sweat soaked handwraps. 

Whoops.

Vi began to unwrap her hands. “Just finished up in the gym. I can’t, uh, focus very well until I’ve–,”

“Bled?” Mel guessed at the end of her sentence. 

“Sometimes,” Vi admitted. “More like cleared my head, though.” 

“By brutalizing yourself?” 

“I wear gloves.” 

“You need new ones, then, clearly,” Mel scoffed, inviting herself inside. “We can touch up those injuries for photos, but for your live performances I’ll need them remedied or at the very least obscured. We can’t have women out there worrying you’d give them a staph infection.” 

Vi shut the door behind her–slammed it, really, gritting out a “fine” as she led them out of the foyer. “You want a drink?”

“It’s 10am.” 

“A drink can be water, Mel. Juice, soda, smoothie, energy drink…whatever you want,” Vi took them to the kitchen, nodding towards the bar for Mel to take a seat as she opened the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water for herself. “Or booze, I don’t judge.” 

“Well, I’ll have a sparkling water, then, if you’re truly offering.” 

Vi complied, pulling a Perrier off the shelf and twisting the cap before sliding it across the bar to her. “There you go.” 

“Mm, such hospitality,” Mel seemed to mock, taking a sip. Vi was still having a hard time completely reading her. “Have you lived here alone all this time?” 

Vi swigged down a mouthful of her own water, shaking her head. “Powder–Jinx and me both lived here when I bought it. Almost lost it during all the litigation, but, uh, overpriced lawyers came through, I guess.” 

“And you’ve never had a partner live here?” 

“What, like a girlfriend?” Vi laughed. “Nah, I don’t really do commitment. That’s something me and New Vi might have in common.” 

“Naturally,” Mel smirked. “Security is awfully tight, I only wondered how other people fit into this fortress.” 

“I open the gate, I close the gate,” Vi told her, leaning against the counter. “Easier that way.” 

Mel nodded in some form of understanding. “Well, I won’t take up too much of your time. If you’d be so kind as to show me to your closet, I’ll get a feel of what you’re comfortable in and send pieces I’d like to highlight to the stylist. 

“I think I dress fine, don’t really want a stylist.”

“You don’t, you’re just attractive with an impressive physique, so almost anything is flattering. And it’s not up to you, I’m afraid.” 

The sound, the look, the feel. None of it was up to her. 

“I’m not meaning to offend you,” Mel tried softening the blow, though Vi doubted that was completely true. “The image we’re going for has just been carefully curated, it’s a holistic overhaul.” 

Can you holistically overhaul my shitty personality? My broken, unrepairable relationship with my sister? My ability to ruin literally anything good that’s ever–

“Vi,” Mel said, cutting off Vi’s train of thought. “Are you alright?” 

“What?” 

“How are you?” she rephrased. “Are you OK?” 

Vi blinked, genuinely taken aback by the question. “I’m fine.” 

You’re not , Mel’s eyes said. 

Vi chose not to look anymore. “Closet’s this way.”

Chapter Text

“OK, alright, that’s it,” Vi tore her headphones off, crumpling the sheet music into a ball and throwing it at the glass that separated the recording booth from the sound booth. “ I’m elated that you’re my lady is where I draw the fuckin line. It’s bad, Viktor, it’s fuckin bad.” 

Viktor leaned forward slowly, pressing the button to enable his microphone. “You sang the words ‘ light a match, get litty, babe’ and ‘ elated you’re my lady’ is where you draw the line?”

“Everyone has a different breaking point, alright?”

“Violet–,” 

“It’s Vi!” 

Viktor sighed. “Sing the silly words so that we can all go home. Please. Thank you. Let’s take it again from ‘ you got that yummy-yum’.”

“There are three pages of ‘ you got that yummy-yums’ ,” Vi complained, slamming her headphones back down over her ears. “You’re gonna have to be more specific. 

“Final chorus!” Viktor took his finger off the microphone, making a wrap it up signal with his hand and sitting back. 

Vi gritted her teeth as the music was piped in. “ Yeah, you got that yummy-yum / That yummy-yum, that yummy-yummy– ,” 

The music cut suddenly, interrupting Vi mid note. 

“I do not believe you think she’s got that yummy-yum, Violet,” came Viktor’s voice through the speaker. “We’ll have to start again.” 

“FUCK!”

/

“I mean…I guess my ass looks good.” 

“Your ass looks great,” Mel agreed, smiling approvingly at the stylist. “Try them with the sleeveless top, won’t you?” 

Vi huffed a sigh of annoyance at the 10th outfit change of the day, pulling the hem of her t-shirt over her abdomen before she paused, noticing Mel’s attention hadn’t wavered. “You want me to do it slower?” 

“I pity the woman,” Mel chuckled in response, waving her on. “Try this with it,” she stood, sliding a red leather jacket from its hanger and waiting until Vi had shrugged on the hooded sweatshirt to hand it to her. 

Once the outfit was complete, Vi turned back to the mirror, doing her best impression of self-admiration in some time. “Works for me,” she decided, reaching over to the open jewelry case to select a watch, clasping it around her wrist. “What do you think, boss, this the winner?” 

“Technically, I work for you,” Mel reminded her, picking a gold chain from the same jewelry box and draping it over Vi’s neck. “Though you’d be wise not to rub it in. And yes, this is the winner.” She took a step back, tilting her head to get the full picture. “Is there anyone you’d like me to put on the list for Friday night?” 

“Whoever Cassandra wants there,” was Vi’s answer. 

“No friends?” 

Vi averted her eyes. “No, but can you take Viktor off the list? He told me we’d be done with vocals two weeks ago but I’ve been in the studio three times this week re-recording and he’s getting on my last fucking nerve.” 

Mel was thumbing through some of the more formal wardrobe options they’d been provided when Vi looked back. “I can’t take him off the list, but I doubt he’ll come. Viktor hates socializing, and…well, really anything that isn’t work.” 

“What about Jayce, does he have to come?” 

“Your manager needs to be there, Vi.” 

“Even though he’s a prick?” 

“He has redeeming qualities, you’re just blind to them.” 

“Name one.” 

“I’ll get back to you on that.” 

Vi laughed, light and genuine and entirely surprising to both women in the room, though Mel didn’t mention it. “In terms of wardrobe for tonight…” she pulled a few options off the rack, “I’m thinking we take you in a more formal direction for your formal re-introduction to late night television, what do you think?” 

God, Vi hated that fucking question.  

Mel seemed to sense that because she moved on without waiting for an answer. “You can forgo the jacket for the actual interview, but I’d like you to walk on stage with it.” 

“Sure,” Vi agreed, running her hand over the fabric sculpted exactly to her specifications. Everything fit to her, made for her…none of it hers. Not really, anyway. Property of Kiramman Records, just like Vi. 

/

The studio lights were bright and invasive and Vi wasn’t even under them yet. The crowd was warm and the host was chummy and Vi wanted to run. She didn't know where she wanted to end up, never did. But that fantasy of escape, the illusion of choice was enough to make Vi’s heart beat faster, Vi’s fist clenched at the concept of freedom she’d so willingly let slip through her fingers. 

She’d signed up for this, after all. Silco was long gone, no devil on her shoulder demanding more, demanding everything, all of her. No Vander, encouraging but firm, always assuming the best of her and holding her to that–his concept of Vi, just like all the rest. And no Powder, big blue eyes looking at her like she held the key to all of life’s secrets, like she was something to marvel at, something to mold oneself after. No, that hadn’t been true for a long time–hadn’t ever been true, maybe–especially for Powder. Jinx. Whoever Silco or the drugs or her fucked up head told her to be. 

“You’re on in 3..2..”

“–let’s everybody put our hands together for Vi!” 

Vi’s smile, fake and forced and grotesque, nearly split her face in two as she stepped on stage, hand up to acknowledge the audience, sending a wink over to some girl in the front row holding an “I’m Vi-sexual” sign. 

“Look at you, Vi!” The host stood to greet her. “All grown up, my god,” he laughed as the audience quieted. “Are there any buttons on that shirt?” 

Vi glanced down to her exposed chest with good humor. “Oh, is that what those things are?” 

The laughter came from everywhere, loud and overwhelming. 

“Are we sure we’re allowed to show this on television?” There was a bite behind his question this time, though it was directed off stage at his producer. 

“It’s 11:30 and you’re boring, Hoskel,” Vi took her jacket off, making sure to flex subtly beneath her nearly skin-tight button down for good measure before sitting down. “Kids aren’t watching this.” 

The laugh from the audience was genuine, from Hoskel? Not so much. “Alright, alright, I’ll let it slide,” he took a seat behind his desk. “But only because they love it,” he gestured to the audience who whistled and hollered. “Vi, I haven’t seen you in the flesh since you were 18 years old. And now all I’m seeing is flesh,” the joke was forced this time. 

“I see what’s going on here,” Vi said like it was a genuine revelation. “These, here?” She stood, circling behind his desk and gesturing to her exposed stomach. “These are abs. Been a while since you’ve seen yours, I guess.” 

“Alright, alright,” Hoskel swatted at her playfully. “Take a seat, young lady, this is an interview, not show and tell.” 

“And here I thought you were just gonna flirt with me the whole time,” Vi lamented, plopping back down into her chair. 

“Something tells me I’m not your type.” 

“Good instincts,” Vi laughed. 

The interview lasted 20 minutes in all, resulting in probably 10 minutes of usable footage. 

“Well, that’s sure to go viral,” Jayce muttered once Vi had reunited with them backstage. 

“You’re welcome.” 

/

Viktor had managed to miraculously finish the album with only hours left to spare, the lead-off  and 2nd single ready for streaming immediately, the rest of the album ready for launch the next day. 

Vi hadn’t been there when Cassandra listened to it but the thumbs up emoji she received in a text from Jayce told her it had gone well. 

Great. 

She was half-hoping Cassandra would hate it and they’d have to scrap the whole thing and start fresh…or maybe just forget the whole thing altogether and leave Vi alone to waste away in seclusion…but this whole New Vi bullshit was really all Cassadra’s idea in the first place, and they’d delivered on that vision. So Vi supposed she’d have to let go of that particular fantasy. 

Vi was dropped off at the release party a fashionable 45 minutes late, as Mel had requested, meaning things were already in full swing when she walked through the door. 

She spotted Mel and Jayce immediately, the two carrying on separate conversations right next to each other, Mel’s with a man Vi vaguely recognized as some executive that worked on Cassandra’s floor, and Jayce’s with a woman that–even from behind–Vi was sure she would have remembered meeting if their paths had ever crossed. 

“Vi!” Jayce shouted across the room as soon as he noticed her, the new Ekko track nearly drowning his voice out as it played over the loudspeakers, Kiramman Records making sure to capitalize on every cross-promotion opportunity. He placed his hand on the woman’s shoulder, leaning into her ear to whisper something before making his way towards Vi through the sea of people. “You look like you’re ready to break a few hearts tonight!” 

“I can’t believe Mel fucks you I’m literally embarrased by everything you say.” 

“What?” Jayce asked, having heard none of that, which is exactly what Vi was banking on. 

“I said where’s the bar?” Vi said, louder this time. 

“Gotcha!” Jayce grinned, seeming like he’d already had a few himself. “It’s back that way, but we can’t have you drunk, alright? We need you on your a-game up there.” 

“Yeah, I’m an adult, thanks!” 

“I know, I know,” he assured like he wasn’t the bad guy. “It’s just, after the crash, you and alcohol leave a bad taste in people’s mouths.” 

“You’re about to taste my fist, pretty boy.” 

“What?” 

“I said just one before I go onstage, alright?” Vi, again, made sure he could hear her this time. 

“OK,” he smiled with one side of his mouth, visibly relaxing. “You’re on in 15. Soundcheck good?” 

“Sure, hey, who’s that girl you were talking to?” 

Jayce’s brow furrowed. “Which one?” 

“When I walked in,” Vi prompted, nodding over at where the woman now stood near the bar, back still turned to them. “Her, over there.” 

“Who, Cait?” 

“Cait?” Vi repeated louder, making sure she’d heard him correctly. 

“Yeah, Caitlyn, she’s–,” 

“Thanks, man,” that was all the information Vi needed from him, and so she gave him a firm pat on the shoulder as she passed by, weaving her way to the bar, receiving a couple of high fives, fist bumps and handshakes along her journey. 

The girl–woman. Cait. Caitlyn, was ordering another drink when Vi approached, sliding up behind her and telling the bartender, “That one’s on me.” 

Cait turned, and…yeah, Vi had her ride home tonight. 

“It’s an open bar,” Cait said, with a posh accent and eyes so blue Vi could discern them even in the low lighting.

Right.  

“Was hoping maybe the thought would count.” 

“Count for what?” Cait wondered, now sipping on her refilled drink, eyes narrowing as she sucked the liquid up the thin straw. 

Vi shrugged. “Up to you, Cupcake.” 

“It’s Caitlyn.” 

“I know,” Vi smiled, asking the bartender for a glass of whatever Cait was drinking. “Jayce suggested I come introduce myself, I guess we might have some stuff in common.” 

“And what stuff might that be?” 

“Well, let’s start with your dress,” Vi suggested, letting her eyes drag pointedly over the dark fabric, paying special attention to the places it clung to her. “You liked it enough to want to take it off the rack, and I like it enough to want to take it off of you.” 

Cait scoffed at that, though it was really more a choked giggle into her glass. A poor attempt at hiding her amusement. “Does that usually work?” 

“On you?” Vi raised an eyebrow, taking her drink from the bartender. “Seems like it did.” 

“Fine,” Cait turned to her fully now, Vi taking in the unique angles of her face–her high, sharp cheekbones, long, delicate nose and plush lips. Features somehow vaguely familiar to Vi…though she couldn’t immediately place why and quickly gave up trying. “I suppose that horrible line at least earned you a captive audience.” 

Vi shook her head. “Trust me, there is literally nothing more boring than a captive audience. Instead, how bout you tell me where you’ve been all my life?” 

“Oh, goodness,” Cait rolled her eyes. “That one was truly awful. Properly introduce yourself and we’ll see how far I get into my life’s story before you’re whisked away by an easier mark.”

“Introduce myself?” Vi laughed. “Uh, sure,” she considered which admittedly shitty pick-up line to use next. “I’m the excuse you’ve been looking for to cut out of this party early.” 

“I meant your name, are you dense?” 

“Am I dense?” Vi repeated. Who the fuck is this chick? “No, I’m–I’m Vi,” she gestured around to her album cover plastered on nearly every wall in the place. 

“Ah, I see…” now it was Cait’s turn to look her up and down, appraising. “Shorter than I imagined. You look a bit taller on TV.” 

“I look–I’m 5’9”!” 

Cait nodded, accepting that statistic. “Congratulations. Would you like a medal?”

“You…” Vi wasn’t sure how to respond, this wasn’t how these conversations typically went. “You wanna kiss me so bad it’s embarrassing.” 

“I–what?” 

“Yeah,” Vi decided with a confident nod of her own, grinning now. “Yeah, I think you do. And what are you, 6’0”?” 

“I am.” 

“Great, we can hang your medal next to mine,” Vi took a step forward, leaning into her ear to add, “Being short puts my favorite attributes at eye level, Cupcake.” And then, when she noticed the warm flush of color down Cait’s neck, “I want you right here when I come back.”

Chapter Text

“–dang, if I’da known the welcome back would be this nice, I would’a gotten off my couch years ago,” Vi chuckled at the thunderous applause. “Ya’ll are really here to support the album?” she adjusted her mic, raising it slightly before locking the stand back into place. “Even Sky made it out? Holy s–,” Vi censored herself by pulling her lips away from the microphone. “No Viktor though, huh? It’s alright, we’ll probably have a better time without him,” she laughed. “For real, shout out to my whole team; Sky, Vik–my absolute nemesis–Jayce you magnificent douchebag, Mel– my god you look good tonight. This album wouldn’t exist without you. Actually, there’s a whole lot more of you all in this album than there is me. But anyway, ya’ll didn’t come here to hear me talk. You’re here for some Arcane Magic, am I right?” 

The audience cheered and whistled, and Vi grinned, feeling suddenly at home, briefly at peace on stage. 

She nodded at the DJ. “This one’s called Intentions , let’s hit it.” 

It wasn’t hard to find Cait in the crowd because she’d stayed put…just as instructed. Good . Though she seemed to be looking anywhere but up at Vi. 

“Picture perfect, you don’t need no filter / gorgeous make’em drop dead, you’re a killer / shower you with all my attention–,” Vi lifted the mic from its stand, stepping to the front of the stage. “–yeah these are my only intentions.” 

She smiled through the rest of the chorus, watching Cait’s eyes find the ceiling and then her own fingernails. 

“Aye yo! Cupcake!” Vi shouted over the instrumental, successfully getting Cait’s attention. “This next part’s for you, alright?” 

Cait’s big blue eyes found her like a deer caught in the headlights, now unable to look away. Vi was gonna make it worth her while. 

“Shoutout to your mom and dad for making you / standin’ ovation, they did a great job raising you / when I create you’re my muse / you got a smile that makes the news–,”

The blush was unmistakable, Cait’s smile growing, beautiful and unbidden, over her lips. 

“–you make it easy to choose / you’ve gotta mean touch I can’t refuse–,” 

There it is , Vi smiled back. For what it was worth, the rest of the audience seemed to be digging it too, but Vi’s best performances came when she imagined an audience of one. 

“–heart full of equity, you’re an asset / make sure that you don’t need no mentions / yeah these are my only intentions–,”  

Vi had intentions alright, and it seemed like Cait might have a few too–eyes still on her once the song ended, biting the straw in her drink now, the air of indifference long gone as the audience clapped and cheered around her. 

Usually, Vi would let her mark stew for a bit…she’d mingle, get a drink backstage, perform an encore…whatever helped communicate to this girl that–whoever they were–they weren’t at the top of Vi’s to-do list. They were an afterthought, this–whatever this was about to be–was a favor to them, as Vi could have any girl she wanted. 

Maybe she was out of practice, or maybe she especially liked the way Cait was eye-fucking her from below her lashes…whatever the reason, after her set finished, Vi rushed through her thank yous at the applause, the congratulatory claps on the back from Jayce and a handful of strangers she’d never make it a point to remember, but now Cait was nowhere to be seen. Decidedly not where Vi had left her, where she’d asked her to stay put. 

“Vi,” Cassandra Kiramman’s voice pulled her attention away from her search. “I think we may have a hit on our hands.” 

“You think so?” Vi asked, still distracted. 

“We’ll see what streaming numbers for the singles look like in the morning, but it appears the new Vi is ready to make her mark,” Cassandra was doing her best impression of a smile, and Vi allowed herself to enjoy it momentarily. 

“That’s good, I’m–uh–glad I could deliver for you guys, I guess.” 

“Jayce is booking you for a few more live performances this week, and then we’ll see how the album settles before scheduling tour dates.” 

Vi blinked. “You want me on tour?” 

“As long as the numbers meet our expectations, yes,” Cassandra affirmed. “But I’ll let you at least enjoy the rest of tonight before heaping more onto your plate.” 

“Thanks,” Vi breathed out a laugh, trying to hide her surprise at the kind treatment she was receiving. She guessed it had been a while since whoever signed her checks was kind to her…even if it came from a selfish place. It always came from a selfish place. 

She finally spotted Cait near the back wall. 

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” Cassandra was saying. 

“Yeah, great, sounds good,” Vi sped through a distracted goodbye, offering a tight-lipped smile before leaving her in favor of Caitlyn, who seemed not to notice her approach. “Thought you’d bounced.” 

Cait’s head snapped to her a little too quickly to continue the facade she’d been playing at earlier. “No, I–the bar was getting crowded, and I wanted–well, I was hoping to finish our conversation.” 

“What conversation was that?” 

“Well, I was about to recount my life’s story,” Cait reminded her, swallowing this time when Vi’s eyes dragged up to her face. “Since your attentions seemed not to have, um, wandered.” 

“Right…” Vi nodded, placing a hand on the wall near Cait’s head, boxing her in. “Go on, I’m all ears.” 

“Sure, well–my name, you know it, it’s Caitlyn.” 

“Yep, got it.” 

“I’m 22.” 

“Noted.” 

“I’m a law student.” 

“How noble.” 

Cait stopped to scoff at that. “Law is hardly always a noble pursuit.” 

“Fine, what kinda law are you studying? Corporate?” 

“No.” 

“Then carry on.” 

Cait bit her lip. “My father is of British-Chinese descent and my mother–,” 

“OK, let’s save the meet the parents bit for later,” Vi pressed forward, wrapping her free hand around Cait’s head to cradle it as she kissed her. 

Cait gasped in surprise, though she didn’t stop her, sinking into the kiss without any further hesitation, moaning when Vi nibbled at her bottom lip, tongue slipping inside soon after. 

She tasted sweet, like the cocktail she’d been drinking, and Vi didn’t want to stop, couldn’t help herself. The hand she had braced on the wall slid around Cait’s waist, the other tangling in her hair as she deepened the kiss, pressing harder into her, arching her back off the wall to pull their hips together. Cait moaned again, this time sounding more wanting than satisfied. 

“Bathroom?” Vi breathed against her lips, feeling a little desperate herself. 

Cait seemed to blink back to reality at that. “What, here?” 

“It’s right over there,” Vi laughed, moving her attention to Cait’s ear and then neck, sucking and biting as she went. 

“Goodness, no, we shouldn’t even be doing this here, let alone… that .”

What 22 year old said goodness ? And why did it make Vi want her more? Want to hear that posh accent and that stiff upper lip fucked right ou– 

“Your place or mine, then?” Are we doing this?

“Do you live alone?” 

We’re doing this.  

“Yeah.” 

“Then yours would be ideal.”

/

Vi used to lament not being able to drive, used to think it was pretty fucking embarrasing to have to be chauferred everywhere. 

But now…

With Cait sitting in her lap–straddling her with those fuckin gloriously long legs in the backseat…

Vi was beginning to realize it had its advantages. 

“Does he work for you or the company?” Cait breathed, chest heaving as Vi ran a tongue along her sharp jaw. 

“H–what?” Vi’s mind was a little foggy at this point. 

“The driver, ugh, nevermind–,” Cait twisted, turning to the still open divider to ask, “Sir, who do you work for?” 

“Kiramman Records, ma’am.” 

“Shit. You didn’t see me, is that understood?” Cait slammed the divider shut before getting an answer, returning her lustful attention to Vi without explanation. “You can keep a secret, can’t you, Vi?” 

“Yeah, definitely,” Vi grabbed Cait’s hips, pulling her down as she pushed up with her own. 

“Mm,” Cait bit back a moan, her eyes fluttering shut. “Good, I don’t want to complicate things, I just—I want this, I want you.” 

“Fuck, I want you too, Cupcake,” Vi sat up, pulling the straps of Cait’s dress from her shoulders to expose her lacy bra. “Want this. Your tits are incredible.” 

Cait stared down at her, the haze briefly clearing from her eyes as she broke into a smile, wide and genuine, revealing a gap in her front teeth that Vi had missed earlier. “Do you really think so?” 

Vi smiled back at her, not totally sure what to do with the affection blooming in her chest. “I won’t lie to you until afterwards, you have my word on that.” 

“I…have to appreciate the honesty, I suppose,” Cait didn’t seem deterred in the slightest. “Here–,” she pulled one of the cups down, grabbing Vi by the back of her head to press her face against her now bare breast. “You can–whatever you’d like to do, however you’d–mm!” Cait moaned when Vi took her cue and sucked her already stiff nipple into her mouth. “–like to have them–have me. You’re–God, you’re very good with your mouth.” 

Got her from Goodness to God , Vi smirked, that’s a start . 

“Good with my hands, too,” Vi mumbled against her, bunching Cait’s dress up around her hips. “Fuck, and your ass?” she squeezed. “Who designed you? Jesus Christ.” 

“Uh–,” Cait faltered when Vi snapped the band of her thong. “I suppose that depends on the belief system you subscribe to.” 

“I’m gonna send a fuckin thank you note to your parents.” 

“Oh, please, let’s not–,” 

“Sore subject?” 

“In this context, absolutely,” Cait guided Vi’s hand back to her ass. “But I appreciate the compliment.” She leaned in to kiss her again, mouth hot and wet and when Vi offered her tongue, Cait sucked on it. 

Vi was so wet she would have been embarrassed if Cait wasn’t in the same boat, but from the teasing pass across the front of her soaked panties…it seemed like Cait was very much on board. 

The car stopped then, and Vi struggled briefly to pull her phone out of her jacket pocket before Cait got the hint and helped her. She opened the gate and they were moving again, then stopped, the driver knocking on the divider to communicate they’d reached their destination. 

“Let’s go,” Vi encouraged, helping Cait off of her lap so that she could open the door, then offering a hand to help her to her feet as Cait adjusted her bra and dress to appear somewhat modest for the trip to the front door. 

Vi waved the driver away, opening the gate so he could leave, and then Cait’s lips were on top of hers again, the taller woman pawing the jacket from her shoulders. 

“Hold on, Cupcake, we’re almost there,” Vi chuckled, allowing the jacket to be stripped from her shoulders as she moved them along. “I like that you know what you want.”

“I’m starving for you,” Cait nearly moaned as Vi unlocked the front door. 

Vi laughed at that, a real, god’s honest laugh, and Cait’s eyes widened in something that looked like fear. “Oh, I–I shouldn’t have said that. That sounded entirely too desperate.” 

“No, no,” Vi encouraged her through the door, locking it behind them and clapping to turn the lights on. “It’s just–it sounded like a lyric from one of my old songs. I like you desperate, don’t worry about it.”

Relief flooded Cait’s features. “I don’t think I know that one.” 

“Don’t sweat it, really,” Vi laughed again. “Actually, it’s kinda hot that you don’t know it. Nice change of pace for me.” 

“Yes, well…” Cait glanced down at her feet. “Shoes on or off?”

“Uh, off,” Vi smiled, brushing a strand of dark hair behind Cait’s ear. “Same with your dress. You want anything to drink?” 

Cait overcame the blush at the dress comment to say, “No, thank you” to the drink offer. Vi thought it was a little weird she hadn’t commented on the house yet. Most the other women she brought back here wouldn’t shut up about it. Cait was kissing her again, lessening the height difference now that she’d taken her heels off, before she could decide if she should be offended. 

Vi snaked her arms around Cait’s back, unzipping the dress in one smooth motion before letting it fall to the floor, leaving her in a matching bra and underwear set that Vi only let herself admire for a moment. Once she’d had her fill, she grabbed Cait’s thighs and lifted, encouraging them to wrap around her waist for their trip to one of the couches in her living room. 

Cait’s legs were strong, her grip on the back of Vi’s neck even stronger as she was carried, Vi’s hand firm on her ass all the while. She let out an adorable little huff of surprise when Vi sat them down, and Vi had never wanted to ruin something so thoroughly. 

“You good like this, Cupcake?” Vi breathed against her, kisses already sloppy by this point, not used to this much foreplay. 

“My name is Caitlyn,” Cait reminded her like she was quickly losing control and wanted to hold onto some vestige of power. 

Too bad Vi didn’t really play like that. 

“How about I call you whatever I want, and you sit there and take my fingers like the good girl I know you can be?” 

Cait pulled back slightly, blinking as they separated like she was trying to compute what she’d just been told. But there was hunger there, beneath the doe-eyed facade, and the hottest part was Vi wasn’t even sure Cait realized it. “Then take it,” she whispered, finally. “If I have what you want–take it.” 

And Vi did, with a groan that came from somewhere deep inside her, Vi moved Cait’s underwear aside as Cait unclasped her own bra, letting it fall on the floor behind her. 

She was wet, and warm, and silky smooth and Vi wanted . To claim her, to take her, to fuck her–a stranger. A perfect stranger. Vi wasn’t used to this. The fucking, yes. But the want? That was new. The want beyond the power it gave her to give pleasure. The genuine want–need–to watch this woman come apart in her hands, to watch her enjoy it, to watch her finger– fingers disappear inside of her as she bounced on her lap, her tits– fuck . 

Vi had to close her eyes for a second for fear she was about to cream her fucking jeans thanks to some 22 year old law student who was riding her hand like she’d been fantisizing about it for years. 

“W–Vi, wait,” Cait’s rhythm stuttered, hand moving from where it was gripping Vi’s shoulders for leverage to gently caress her face. “Look at me.” 

This girl’s actually gonna fuckin kill me. 

Vi leaned forward, reaching around Cait’s waist to change the angle so that she could drive her fingers up into her, her own breath coming fast against Cait’s neck. 

“Oh my–shit!” Cait’s breathing was just as labored, her cry of pleasure reaching a timbre that sent a tingle down Vi’s spine, the pressure settling in Vi’s lap along with Cait. “This feels so good, Vi, you feel so good.” 

Vi bit down on her neck. Hard. Harder than she’d intended, really, but it seemed to do the trick because Vi felt Cait clamp down around her fingers, squeezing so hard Vi hissed at the sensation. 

Cait whimpered on the way down, lean muscles going taut before they relaxed against her, Cait slumping forward into Vi’s chest. She took a few steadying breaths before attempting words. “I’m only going to say this once, because I fear any further praise would inflate your already horribly bulbous ego, but…you really are. Good with your hands, I mean. That was, um,” she turned to place a kiss on Vi’s neck. “Fun. Good. Excellent, really.” 

Vi shivered at the kiss, her fingers finally retracting from inside Cait. She shifted, moving to wipe them on her jeans, but Cait took notice, sitting back and catching Vi’s hand before she could. Never breaking eye contact, Cait lifted the still soaking fingers to her lips, taking them into her mouth without ceremony, swallowing around them. 

“The normal response to a compliment is a ‘thank you’,” Cait reminded her, placing one more kiss on the tip of Vi’s fingers for good measure. “Though, perhaps you weren’t raised that way.” 

“I–,” Vi couldn’t take her eyes away from Cait’s mouth. “I mean, compliments are nice, but…I’m more of a show than a tell person.”

“Ah,” Cait nodded, smirking as she came to understand. “You’d prefer I showed you my appreciation, then.” 

“Definitely.” 

Cait stood up from the couch, and Vi mourned the loss of touch until she came to appreciate the view, Cait still gloriously naked aside from her underwear. “Take your shirt off, I’d like to see you.” 

Vi obeyed so quickly it made her blush. She ran a hand through her own hair to ground herself, now sitting on the couch in just her sports bra and jeans…

…Jeans which Caitlyn quickly dropped to her knees to unbutton, placing a chaste kiss on Vi’s lower abdomen before pulling her shoes off and then ridding her legs of her pants completely. 

“Let me show you, then…how good that felt…” 

Chapter Text

“Vi.” 

“Mmph.” 

“Vi, could you please–excuse me?” 

Vi screwed her eyes shut tighter at the feeling of sunshine on her face and a hand on her shoulder. The sun hot, abrasive, fucking rude, honestly. The hand the opposite, despite how it was now shaking her awake. 

“I need you to open the gate so that my cab can get through.”

Vi didn’t like those words in that order from that voice and she didn’t totally understand them, either. “What cab?” 

“I have to go, Vi,” Cait told her, with no trace of the morning in her voice at all. 

“Why?” 

“I left a note, you can read it when you wake up, I just need you to open the gate.” 

“The code is Powder’s birthday,” Vi mumbled into the pillow, incoherent in comparison. 

“Powder’s birthday?”

“Mhm.” 

The bed was empty when Vi woke up a few hours later. She glanced at the clock–the new one, as she’d shattered the last one–neck popping at the strain. 11:12am.

Standing up with a stretch, Vi circled around to the other side of the bed, the one she was pretty sure Caitlyn had slept on last night. Right? That’d definitely been last night…

It wasn’t made, but an effort to fix it had definitely taken place, the sheets smoothed and the blanket straightened. And then she saw it, a note on the bedside table. 

Vi, 

Thank you for the memorable evening. I had exam prep scheduled this morning and had to call a cab. Sincerest apologies for the note, I know it’s tacky. The 14 phone numbers listed in this notepad are also tacky. Here’s mine, in case you’d like to not call it just like all the rest. 

Best, 

Caitlyn (Cupcake, in case you’ve already forgotten)

Vi read the note back a couple of times–6 times, to be exact–feeling something bubble up from her stomach into her chest. Disappointment, maybe? Hopefully not vomit, she really hadn’t had that much to drink last night. 

Not wanting to delve deeper into either conclusion, Vi jumped back on the bed, wiggling over to grab her cellphone and punching the phone number Cait had left her into a blank message. 

Hey it’s Vi. 

Sure. 

Last night was pretty decent. 

No. Come on. 

Glad last night was memorable. Was for me too. 

Nah. 

Hey it’s Vi. Glad last night was memorable. Was kinda looking forward to giving you morning head so it’s lame you ran off. 

Uh…maybe? 

…no. 

Hey, it’s Vi. Glad last night was memorable. Sorry you had to go so early, coulda made your morning memorable too. 

Heh, nice. 

Vi pressed send on the message, watching her screen for a reply. 

It didn’t come. 

Not 30 seconds later, not two minutes later. Not even five minutes later. 

Whatever, Vi rolled her eyes, scrolling through her unread messages. Jayce…Mel…Sky…mostly congratulations on the release texts, Jayce’s including a screenshot of some streaming numbers, Mel’s an updated hit count on her interview with Hoskel, and Sky’s a picture of the radio in her car with the station reading Now Playing: Yummy by Vi.

Vi let herself smile at that, though the brief tranquility of the moment was ruined when her phone rang, Cassandra Kiramman on the caller ID.  

“Boss.” 

“Good morning, Vi, I hope I didn’t wake you.” 

Vi hated that Cassandra’s stupid british accent reminded her of Cait. 

“Nope, I’ve been up.” 

“Wonderful, well, I did promise you a phone call. Thought I’d personally give you the good news–we’re very pleased with the preliminary numbers.”

“Cool.” 

“Yes,” Cassandra chuckled. “Very. I’m not sure if Jayce has set up a meeting with you yet, but he has the details on the live performances he’s booked. I’m headed out of town for the day, but do make sure to connect with him, please. We need the rest of this week to go smoothly before we can start seriously considering a tour.” 

“He texted me earlier, I’ll get back to him.” 

“Thank you, Vi, and again, I appreciate a job well done.”  

She hung up without a goodbye. 

Jayce wanted to meet at 6 o’clock. Fine. 

Vi was mid-way through making her protein shake when her phone vibrated with a text response. One from Caitlyn, finally–not that Vi cared. 

Cupcake: Yes, how terribly unfortunate. 

Vi: U busy tonight? 

Cupcake: I am. 

Vi: with what? 

Cupcake: I have an exam on Monday, I need to study. 

Vi: whats the subject? 

Cupcake: Medical malpractice law.

Vi: do u need to know anatomy for that? I could probably help u out

Cupcake: You’re insufferable. 

Vi: thats not what u were saying last night

Cupcake: I’d prefer you had this conversation with one of the other phone numbers on your list, I’m busy. 

Vi: come over tonight after ur done studying 

Cupcake: It’s a 45 minute drive. Thank you, no. 

Vi: I’ll come to you, then. Gimme the address and I’ll swing by after my meeting. 

Cupcake: Now who sounds desperate? 

Vi: nice try 

Cupcake: Fine, but only because my parents are out of town until tomorrow, so I have the house to myself. 

Vi: Kinky ;) 

Cupcake: Invitation rescinded. 

/

“We need you on Twitter. And Insta, and TikTok.” 

“Please, just say Instagram, Jayce,” Mel sighed, stirring her coffee. “I don’t know why it bothers me so much that you only seem to abbreviate that one word.” 

“What, Insta?” Jayce was momentarily distracted, glancing over at Mel with a furrowed brow. “I love Insta.” 

“Yes, Darling, therein lies the problem. Please say Instagram, you’re nearly 35.” 

“I’m with Mel,” Vi agreed. “You sound really dumb. And why are you wearing a three piece suit? It’s 6:30 on a Saturday.” 

Mel shook her head at that. “No, I like his suits. Our alliance ends at Insta , I’m afraid.”

Vi snorted. “Whatever. I don’t want to do that social media shit. I’m not that good at, like, saying stuff and not super interested in giving any rando on the internet 24 hour access to me.” 

“You wouldn’t be managing your accounts, Vi. Mel would be in charge of that,” Jayce assured. “All we’d need is the occasional selfie, you’d send it over to Mel and she’d do the rest. People want access to their celebrities. And yes, you’re right, that access can come at tremendous cost. But also tremendous reward. Your mentions are overwhelmingly positive right now, we want you to be able to experience that.” 

Vi picked at the soft fabric of her pants, considering. “Fine, I’ll do twitter and instagram, but TikTok is Jinx’s territory.” 

Mel set her only half empty coffee cup aside, muttering, “this is burnt,” as she did. “One’s territory can’t be an entire social media site, Vi. The restraining order doesn’t extend to the digital sphere, we checked. But if you’d like to begin with those two and work your way up, that’s fine, we can accommodate.” 

“It’s supposed to expire next month, you know, I got a letter about it from the court.” 

“Yes,” Mel nodded, softer now. “We know, and we’re sure he’ll try to renew it. Which…won’t be the best press cycle for you, so we’re trying to build up as much good will as possible.” 

“What do you need from me, then?” Vi was quick to change the subject, legs spreading wider, taking up more space on the couch as she leaned back. “For the profile, or whatever.” 

“Mel’s already collected that, for now,” Jayce told her with a smile equal to Mel’s in silent understanding that Vi desperately wanted to slap off his face. “Lucky you look good in candid photos.” 

“Are you hitting on me, Pretty Boy?” Vi joked, wanting the upper hand back.

“No,” Jayce was grinning now like he’d just gained entrance to some private club. “But game respects game.” 

“You have literally zero game,” Vi reminded him. “And I barely respect you.” 

Jayce’s eyebrows bounced nearly to his hairline. “Barely?” 

“Yeah, barely.” 

“You hear that, Mel? I’ve been promoted to barely !” 

/

Cait’s house was the biggest one on the block in literally the ritziest neighborhood in Piltover. What the fuck… and she was waiting outside when Vi pulled up, leaning against a lamp near the front gate with her hands clasped in front of her. 

“I wasn’t sure if you’d actually come,” Cait told her, straightening up as Vi shut the car door behind her. 

“Told you I would, didn’t I?” 

“Yes, it’s just–,” Cait’s hands twisted nervously. “You don’t exactly seem like the 2nd date type.” 

“I’m not,” Vi confirmed, approaching her with an easy smile. “We just had some unfinished business, is all. And it’s not exactly like this is dinner and a movie.” 

Cait cleared her throat, fingers lacing into themselves, finally still. “Right, well, unfinished or not, I’m busy. So we’ll need to make this quick.” 

Oh?  

“You’ll need to climb the fence.” 

Vi frowned. “I’ll need to what?” 

“My mother has security cameras trained at the front gate and door, and I can’t have her knowing I had a guest over,” Cait explained like this was all totally routine. “You’ll need to climb the fence and then up to my bedroom window. There’s a conveniently located trellis, don’t worry.” 

“Are you–is this a joke?” 

“Would you like your business finished?” Cait had one dark eyebrow raised, the lamp above them highlighting the hollows of her cheeks, eyes still so blue in the shadows. She took Vi’s silence as confirmation. “Then climb.” 

Cait was waiting on her canopy bed, something fit for a princess, when Vi shoved the window open from the outside, grunting as she pulled herself up and over the sill. 

“The trellis isn’t that convenient,” Vi complained, dusting herself off. 

“I’ve never had any complaints.” 

Vi ignored that–the comment and the weird spike of jealousy (or maybe arousal) she felt in the pit of her stomach. “I did that in a music video one time. Climbed into some girl’s window.”

Cait licked her lips. “Really?” 

“Yeah,” Vi laughed. “You’re living some girl’s fantasy right now.” 

“Criminal I didn’t realize,” Cait chuckled, eyes blatantly roaming Vi’s body in a way she was used to, but also…wasn’t. “Would you come here? I haven’t got all night.” 

/

She did, actually. Have all night. 

Or at least that was the vibe Vi got when she asked for another…and another…first with her mouth, Vi’s hands wrapped around Cait’s thighs, holding her down firmly on the bed despite how desperately her hips moved upwards. 

“So sweet,” Vi murmured into the now teeth-marked skin of her inner thigh. “Like a cupcake.” 

And then with her fingers, Cait’s legs spread, the strength of Vi’s own hips guiding them this time, hard and solid and filling, fucking Cait so deeply she thought they’d disappear into the soft mattress. 

“Fuck, Cupcake,” Vi groaned when Cait bit her lip, sucking it into her mouth as she continued to thrust, curling her fingers to press against the place that made Cait’s breath hitch, her moans rise in pitch. “You’re gonna make me finish like this, I swear.” 

“I wish you would,” came Cait’s breathy reply. 

She did. And without a strap to press against her.

That was new. 

It was late by the time they had their fill. Too late to think, really, so Vi closed her eyes. A fatal mistake. 

“You are not supposed to still be here!”

It was the second time in two days Vi had been awoken by the voice of a british angel who she–

“Oh my–shit, what time is it?! Shit shit shit!” 

It was decidedly less angelic this time around. 

“This is very nearly a disaster.” There was rustling somewhere by the door. “I’ll make you coffee and take a pastry from the kitchen, but then you have to go, Vi, do you understand?” 

Vi wrenched her eyes open. “What are you even talking about?” 

“My mother is due back at any moment and I need you to understand how detrimental it would be if she found us,” Caitlyn hissed. 

“What?” Vi yawned, finally sitting up. “She not know you’re gay or something?” 

“No, that she’s very much aware of.” 

“Doesn’t like my music?” 

“Precisely the opposite of the problem. Please get dressed.” Cait left the room, nearly sprinting down the hallway before Vi could get another word in. 

“OK, well, I don’t really do carbs in the morning!” Vi shouted after her. “You have any whey powder?” 

Cait didn’t respond. Ah well . She’d take the coffee at least. And could probably have her arm twisted about the pastry too. 

Vi needed a shower, badly, but it didn’t seem like Cait was all that keen on offering hers…she could wait. She smelled like sex, but there were worse things in the world. 

The getting dressed part was gonna be a challenge, though, because Vi couldn’t find her clothes anywhere in Cait’s gigantic-ass bedroom that had its own skylight. 

Caitlyn seemed like a pretty tidy person, so Vi thought maybe she’d thrown Vi’s clothes in the closet if she didn’t like seeing them on the floor. And she was right, actually. Her discarded shirt and joggers were sitting in a pile in Cait’s closet. With a smile that Vi didn’t totally understand, she got dressed, finding her shoes and socks next to a rolled up poster in the corner. 

Vi was lacing up her shoes when curiosity got the better of her. 

“I wonder what shitty band you’re into,” Vi said under her breath, chuckling preemptively as she unfurled the poster to find… 

Her. 

Vi. 

Well, an 18 year old version of her, anyway. 

Vi frowned at the image, confused. This was the poster from Powder-Keg’s 2nd tour, the variant edition that excluded Powder. Vi remembered from the Tiger Beat spread that she’d been on the next page, the two of them together, Powder sitting whimsically cross-legged in front of her soundboard, Vi squatting down beside her. This one, though, Vi was pulling her white, soaking v-neck t-shirt down to expose her sports bra, eyes smoldering at the camera as water dripped down her face. 

And it was signed. The words “ for Caitlyn ” in sharpie above her signature. Vi’s signature. 

“Uh…” Vi said out loud, not able to tear her eyes away from the image. 

For Caitlyn.

That was her shitty handwriting, alright. 

Vi took a step back without realizing it and tripped on the shoelace she hadn’t finished tying, landing on her ass and putting the little shelf Cait had some of her shoes stowed on at eye level. Shoes and a pink, like, scrapbook of some kind. Already in too deep, Vi crawled on her knees to reach for it, the cover reading “Caitlyn Kiramman” once she got a full look. 

Caitlyn. 

Kiramman. 

Kiramman, Kiramman, Kiramman. 

Vi opened the book, mind unable to totally process everything. There was Cait as a child, a really cute fucking kid. Cait as a gangly teenager. Cait at– Cait at my fucking concert. The ticket memorialized, glued into the book, the lyrics “don’t need no butterflies when you give me the whole d*mn zoo”–yes, fucking astericks included–written in cursive above the ticket and a picture of that same gangly teenaged Cait getting a kiss on the cheek from VI–Me!--Vi!  

“Oh…no…” 

The decidedly less awkward but still very tall adult Cait was standing, frozen, in the open doorway to her bedroom now, muscles tight below her loose fitting silk tank top, mouth open. 

“C–Caitlyn,” Vi forced the name out, grip tightening on the book as she stood. “What the fuck is this?” 

“That is–um,” Cait appeared to be in physical pain, her face blushing the darkest shade of red Vi had ever seen. “That was,” she rephrased, “an extremely unfortunate oversight, putting your clothes in that closet. This is perhaps the worst moment of my life.” 

“This is me,” Vi said, dumbly. 

“It is, yes, on Powder-Keg’s Butterflies tour,” Cait clarified like maybe Vi didn’t remember. “I may have been a bigger fan than I, um, first let on.”

“You have a signed fucking poster, you dweeb!” 

Caitlyn cringed at that. 

“You paid for a fucking meet and greet!” 

“My mother did, anyway.” 

“You absolutely quoted that lyric the other night! And totally made me climb through your window to reinact that stupid video!”

Cait buried her face in her hands. “Please stop talking, I’d prefer to simply expire. It’s really not as bad as it seems.” 

That’s when Cait’s phone rang on the bedside table. 

I didn’t know that I was starving till I tasted you / don’t need no butterflies when you give me the whole damn zoo / by the way, by the way–,” 

“No,” Vi said, simply. “No, that is not your ringtone.” 

“–you do things to my body–,” 

“I don’t want to talk about it.” 

“Caitlyn?” a third voice entered the conversation, a really fucking familiar one, the sound of heeled steps ascending the staircase. “Caitlyn, I’ve been trying to call you, I can hear your phone ringing. Are you–,” 

Cassandra Kiramman stopped once she encountered Caitlyn in the doorway, looking a tad exasperated.

“Caitlyn, darling, why–,” 

She noticed Vi then, standing dumbly at the other end of the room, still holding the scrapbook. “What–,” she glanced between them, between Vi’s wide, stupid eyes and Caitlyn’s red face and relative state of undress. “What’s this, then?” 

“No, this,” Cait began, in what wasn’t exactly a response. “ This is the worst moment of my life. I’m sure of it.” 

Cassandra pursed her lips, taking less time to compute than Vi had, her eyes briefly falling on the scrapbook and the poster that had been tossed aside. “Yes, I can see that. Unfortunate. Vi,” she was smiling at her, tight lipped and cold. “I was so looking forward to introducing you to my daughter, she’s such a big fan.”

Chapter Text

“–but it appears you already know each other. Biblically, it would seem. How charming.” 

“Mother, please,” Cait’s words were muffled into her hands. 

“I didn’t–uh–,” Vi struggled to get her words out, struggled even finding them. “I didn’t do this on purpose. I–I should go. Yeah, I should probably go.” She crossed the room quickly, one shoe still untied, sliding past Caitlyn and Cassandra in the doorway and taking the staircase two steps at a time. 

“Vi, wait, please!” Cait was behind her, but Vi wasn’t really listening, too focused on trying to find the front door. 

“Why is this house a fucking maze?!” Vi complained, nearly frantic when a corridor turned into another corridor. 

A man popped his head out of a room to Vi’s right, the other half of Cait’s genetics explaining themselves in one glance. “If you’re looking for the front door, it’s down the next staircase on the left.” 

“Dad!” 

“Sorry, my darling,” the man disappeared back into the room without another word. 

“Violet, please, wait,” Cait implored, reaching for her hand once Vi was down the final staircase and out the front door. 

“Now’s definitely not the time to start that shit,” Vi yanked her hand away, her journey aimless as she hadn’t called a driver. She was on the street now, though, Cait running to catch up, still in her pajamas. 

“Look, I’m sorry!” Cait exploded, voice louder and angrier–or more frightened, maybe–than she’d heard it before. Not that Vi had a huge sample size, they’d only met two days ago. “I apologize for my dishonesty, and for not immediately disclosing who my mother was, but you didn’t exactly give me the chance, remember?” 

Vi stopped then, not totally sure why she was running in the first place, just needing to escape. She turned to see Cait’s chest heaving, face still flushed beet red. “Oh, so this is on me now? That’s rich. But not as rich as you, Cupcake. What the fuck?!” she gestured wildly back at the house. “And you just weren’t gonna tell me we’d met before?” 

“Like you would have remembered?” Cait laughed, the sound devoid of any humor.

“I just–I thought you were different.” 

Cait had the audacity to roll her eyes. “Bullshit.” 

Vi couldn’t hide her surprise at that response. 

“The novelty of anonymity would have worn off quickly for you, let’s not continue this charade.” 

“How much did that fuckin thesauraus cost?” 

“Stop it,” Caitlyn snapped, taking a step towards her. “I’d put that poster of you in storage years ago, along with the scrapbook. My father was recently clearing things out when he found it, and thought it would be funny to tease me about it being that Mother had just signed you. I promise you I’m not your stalker, I’m simply a fan.” 

“And the ringtone?” 

Cait’s posture lost some of the confidence she’d gained, eyes falling briefly to the pavement between them. “I’m afraid I can’t defend myself on that front, it’s my favorite song.” 

Vi bit her lip to contain her suddenly super inconvenient smile. “Who even has ringtones any more?” 

“You were very kind to me.” 

“What?” 

Caitlyn’s eyes found her again. “At the meet and greet. I didn’t even ask for the kiss, but it made my year. As embarrassed as I am about how this was all revealed, it does give me the chance to thank you. I…” she trailed off, wringing her hands again, deciding her words carefully. “You saved me, I think. I was such a misfit as a child, so terribly alone and alienated from my peers. I lived in this silly gilded tower and had these…desires, that I couldn’t tell if anyone shared because no one talked about it. But you did, in all of your songs. You weren’t singing to the girls at school who obsessed over boys to distraction. You were singing to me,” her smile was soft, lost in a memory. “You spun me a fantasy, one that proved the images in my head weren’t wrong or grotesque or inappropriate, I just had different preferences. The way my heart raced when a pretty girl looked in my direction didn’t make me a monster, just a–well–a lesbian. And that was OK.” 

Vi’s face was hot, the shoe on the other foot now. 

“I came out to my parents 3 days before my 16th birthday, and they bought me those concert tickets and the meet and greet when they realized my, um. appreciation for you and your music wasn’t just a poster on my wall, it was…this is going to sound horribly romantic, but it was my catalyst to self-acceptance. The inspiration for my metamorphosis. I didn’t tell you all this at the time, of course, but when you looked at me it was like…you knew, somehow. Beneath all your swagger and vibrato there was a kind person with a good heart who saw me, if only for a moment…before your sister told me I was holding up the line,” she laughed, but it was self-conscious. “And my mother really does have security cameras on the front gate and door. The window is indeed how I sneak girls into my room, the music video reference was simply a bonus. I must have watched that video 3,000 times.” 

Now it was Vi’s turn to laugh, that seemed like the best response, anything else was probably going to come out weird and mushy and Vi didn’t do mushy well. “3,000?” 

“That’s my estimation, yes,” Cait bit her lip, hiding a wider smile. 

“How many times did you touch yourself to that song?” 

“Violet!” 

“It’s Vi, Cupcake.” 

“It’s Caitlyn, Violet.” 

They were interrupted by the clicking sound of a camera shutter, both whipping around suddenly to see a cameraman squatting behind a car across the street, lens pointed in their direction. 

Fuck. 

/

“So, this isn’t great,” Mel held the magazine in front of Vi, open to a picture of Cait, barefoot in what were obviously her pajamas standing across from Vi with one shoe untied, looking like they were in the throes of a heated lover’s quarrel on the sidewalk. 

Vi spared one glance at it before her attention returned to the heavy bag in front of her, throwing a hard jab at the center. “Nobody even reads magazines anymore.” 

“It’s featured in their online edition as well.” 

“OK, well, am I not allowed to have conversations on the sidewalk?” Vi grunted, combining the jab with a quick hook this time. “There a new law in Piltover I wasn’t aware of?” 

Mel was not impressed. “I’d certainly prefer you didn’t have them with half dressed women in broad daylight.” 

“Oh, so now the public can’t know I fuck? I thought we were selling sex here, what happened to New Vi’s whole fuckboi nextdoor motif?” 

“Twitter thinks she’s cute, at least.” 

Vi throws two jabs and an uppercut. “She is cute.”

“She’s Cassandra’s daughter.” 

“I know who she is.” 

“Are you dating?” 

“I don’t date,” Vi let out a cry of exertion as she held the bag close to her, punching low with her right arm. 

“I thought not, but I also thought you wouldn’t be stupid enough to have a two night stand with a Kiramman.” 

Vi paused her assault, resting her sweaty forehead against the bag and glancing over her shoulder at Mel. “How did you know it was two nights?” 

“For better or worse, I have eyes everywhere, Vi. And in truth, you two weren’t terribly discreet. I kept it from Jayce because Caitlyn is actually a close personal friend of his and I assumed you’d manage to untangle yourself before something like this happened.” 

“Do they know who she is? Twitter and them ,” Vi nodded at the magazine. 

“They will,” was Mel’s answer. 

“Can’t you guys try to keep it out of the press? She’s not a celebrity, Mel, she’s just a fuckin co-ed, can’t we keep it that way?” 

Mel scoffed. “Of course she’s a celebrity, Vi. She’s heir to the Kiramman family fortune and all the power and prestige that brings with it, whether she likes it or not. And no, we can’t keep it out of the press. We’ll be the ones telling them.” 

Vi’s brow furrowed in confusion, letting go of the bag all together now and stripping off her gloves. “Why would we–I don’t get it.” 

“You’ll be performing Mother tomorrow on the morning show.” 

“There’s no fucking way.” 

“You’ve only been performing the singles, we need to bring attention to the rest of the album,” Mel said all too casually. “And you decided now would be a great time to have a public disagreement with the exceptionally sexy, half dressed daughter of the woman who owns your record label. You’ve written the headline for us, Vi, we have to adapt.” 

Vi was beside herself. “What, do you think I’m actively suicidal?! I’m not gonna have a fuckin record label if I perform Mother on the goddamn morning show.” 

Mel waved her off. “Don’t worry about Cassandra, that’s my job and rest assured she cares far more about her bank account than keeping her daughter’s reputation as some blushing virgin intact.” 

“Fuck, Cupcake, you’re gonna make me finish like this, I swear.”

“I wish you would.”

Vi shook herself out of the memory. Blushing virgin Cait was not. “Have you cleared it with her?”

“We need you at the studio at 8am, you’ll be performing in the 10am block,” Mel glossed over her question entirely. “I’ll make sure your driver is on time.” 

/

“I’m just gonna say, again, for the record, I think this is a really shitty idea.” 

Jayce squeezed her shoulder, his eyes betraying his position. “Break a leg.”

And then Vi was on stage, in a shirt and tie that even for the story they were trying to tell, felt too constricting. The stage lights too bright, the crowd way too loud for 10am. 

“Good morning, Piltover!” Vi greeted with enthusiasm. “Thanks for coming out! Imma make this quick, alright? Get you back to your regularly scheduled programming.” She turned, nodding at the band they’d chosen for this performance. 

The baseline started, and Vi took a deep, calming breath before turning back to the audience. 

“She’s such a nice girl, so well mannered / she’s so much better than the last girl you brought around–,” 

She pushed the mic stand away from her briefly, her last moment of doubt fleeting as she committed to the performance. 

“–the moment she walks out that door / I’m not pretending anymore / if your mother knew all of the things that we do–,”  

Vi loosened the tie around her neck, undoing the top button of her shirt. 

“–if your mother knew, she’d keep me so far from you–,” 

She unbuttoned her suit jacket before lifting the mic from its stand for the next verse. 

“–Sneak out the window / pass over pillows / I’ll be waiting in the car right around the block–”

Vi grinned at the whistle she heard from the back. 

“–back of the Benzo / more than a friend zone / we’ve been hiding since the time they forgot to knock–,” 

Vi was leaning over into the front row, placing a kiss on some screaming girl’s hand, sending a wink in another’s direction. 

“–Next time that she sees me / she gon’ act like she don’t know me / cause she knows all of the story / now your daddy wants to kill me–”

She spun onto her knees to finish the last chorus. 

“If your mother knew all of the things that we do / if your mother knew all the things we do / if your mother knew all of the things that we do.” 

Her chest heaved with exertion once the last note left her, Vi sweating more than she ought to be, staring up into the stage lights, still on her knees. I’m so fucked. 

Chapter Text

Vi took her hat off to run her hand through her hair, decidedly not nervous. No. Not nervous.

What had she done wrong, really? Had super consensual sex with an age-appropriate stranger? Had a conversation outside on a public sidewalk? Sang a song from her new album that just so happened to be topical? What, was she supposed to ask for Cait’s ID before fucking her? Supposed to play 7 degrees of separation or whatever to figure out exactly why she’d been at that release party, who she knew, who she was related to? No, that’s dumb. Ridiculous. And the song Vi had sung was literally written for her by people Cassandra Kiramman had hired. Cassandra had already heard the song—she’d read the lyrics before it was even recorded, she just hadn’t assumed it would be so immediately applicable. OK, well, guess what? That’s on her for having a hot daughter, honestly. Vi scoffed to herself in the empty hallway, incensed.

If your daughter wasn’t so sexy, I wouldn’t have fucked her. There ya go, it’s as simple as that, asshole.

OK…so maybe the argument could use some fine tuning…

“What in god’s name were you thinking?!”

Vi startled at the hands suddenly pressed to her shoulders, the ones that gave her a surprisingly hard shove against the wall.

“On live, national television, Vi? Truly?!” Caitlyn’s eyes were stormy, jaw set tight and angry, all at once very close.

“Where the hell did you come from?” was the better question, Vi thought.

“The elevator, you absolute knob.”

“Absolute knob?” Vi repeated. “Are you sure you didn’t just toot toot down the chimney, mate?”

Cait’s lips were on hers before Vi could say another word, delicate hands twisting somewhere between angry and desperate in the fabric of Vi’s hoodie.

To Vi, most women she slept with had a shelf life of 12-24 hours. After that, she got bored or scared or didn’t remember why she’d opened the door in the first place. It was 96 hours later, and Caitlyn Kiramman was still an absolute anomaly. What the fuck is the matter with me?

Cait didn’t really give her a chance to kiss back before she pulled away, Vi feeling like she was staring down the barrel of a gun as she gazed up at her, wondering what came next.

“I like that song,” Cait nearly whispered, hands subtly loosening, smoothing out the fabric across Vi’s chest. “And yes, I’d…certainly prefer my mother not know all of the things that we do, if it can be avoided. But it seems like the internet is now hellbent on making whatever this is a matter of public record.”

“That was Jayce,” Vi blurted. “And Mel. I didn’t want to—this isn’t your world, Cupcake, I wasn’t trying to drag you into it. They wanted to be ahead of the story and capitalize on the whole—the whole thing. I’m sorry. Fuck.” Vi’s eyes found her shoes, unable to hold Cait’s critical gaze.

She missed Cait’s eyes soften, but she didn’t miss the finger beneath her chin, nor the thumb stroking her cheek. “I know enough about this world not to be surprised by how this unfolded.”

“It’s a stupid song,” were all the words Vi could find.

“That tabloid used an awful picture of me,” Cait’s breath was hot against her lips.

“I don’t think so.”

“And I don’t think the song is stupid.”

“I guess we’re gonna have to agree to disagree, then.”

“Mm, I’d like to debate it further.”

Vi flipped their positions, pressing Cait into the wall as she licked into her mouth, the want all at once unbearable. She untucked Cait’s blouse from her jeans on one side, pressing her thumb into the skin at her hip just to feel her. Her body, her heat, ignoring the horrifying realization that she’d missed her, even though they’d barely been apart.

“Caitlyn Kiramman, this is a place of work!” they were interrupted by the same voice that had been haunting Vi’s every thought in preparation for this meeting.

Cait pushed Vi back, holding her at arm’s length as they turned to see Cassandra Kiramman looking rather scandalized in the now-open doorway to her office.

“It’s 9am and you’re blushing like a debauched schoolgirl, my god,” she continued to scold. “Get in here, both of you, now.”

Vi didn’t need to be told twice, walking straight to the couch furthest from Cassandra’s desk with her head down, barely sparing a glance at Mel and Jayce who appeared similarly uncomfortable. Cait followed, sitting between Vi and Jayce, her knees tight together, posture impeccable, hands folded neatly in her lap, Mel electing to stand (dramatically) by the window.

“Caitlyn, Vi,” Cassandra began, squashing the brief wobble in her tone. “You’re late to the party, it would seem you had other…priorities, this morning,” she waved a hand flippantly towards the hallway. “That’s fine, it gave me plenty of time to debrief with the crack-team I hired to rehabilitate your image, Vi. The ones who thought the best way to go about that would be to smear my daughter’s image across page 6 and ensure the world knew one of my artists was enjoying all the amenities of said-daughter’s bed while I was out of town.”

“Cassandra—,” Mel tried to object.

“Ms. Medarda, please,” Cassandra overruled. “I don’t doubt your business savvy. I’m sure the internet is positively atwitter with gossip that is driving new listeners to Vi’s album. However, my daughter is not a marketing tool, she’s a brilliant law student at the top of her class and this is a distraction she cannot afford.”

“Vi’s not a distraction, Mother, she’s—,”

“Caitlyn,” Cassandra snapped. “Kindly wipe the sheen of her saliva from your lips and try again.”

Vi cringed, feeling Cait stiffen beside her.

“I would never allow myself to be distracted from my studies by someone I’m seeing,” Cait rephrased, less emotional this time. “And I do find it ironic you object to me being marketed while actively stripping your talent bare of every shred of self-concept they cling to in the name of catering to whatever demographic you’ve assigned them to.”

Vi wished she could breathe quieter.

Cassandra narrowed her eyes at her daughter, their same brilliant blue reflected in Cait’s unwavering gaze. “I told your father law school was a mistake, you’re too natural a politician.”

“Public servant.”

“Even worse,” there seemed to be some humor in Cassandra’s tone, and Vi thought she caught a smile at the corner of Cait’s mouth.

Rich people are weird.

“I won’t have the Kiramman name being used as a punchline,” Cassandra said, addressing Jayce and Mel now. “They’re either very much in love or the image was taken wildly out of context and the song-choice poorly timed. The choice is yours.”

Vi frowned. “Mine?”

Cassandra seemed briefly confused by the question. “I’m sure your team will take your opinion into consideration.”

/

“I’m Mylo, that’s Claggor, this is Undercity Radio, and that was Breakup With Your Girlfriend, I’m Bored by Vi, live in studio. Her publicist promised us she’d stick around for the next little bit here, so to all you thirsty, thirsty ladies out there…now’s your chance—tweet us, text us, insta dm, whatever, we’ve got Vi in the flesh, and Jesus Christ, does she look sexy.”

Vi rolled her eyes, sparing a chuckle into the microphone as she adjusted her headphones. “Ladies, my tank top has a hole in it and my publicist specifically asked me to throw these jeans away, I promise you’re not missing out.”

“Always so modest,” Mylo teased. “We’re posting a picture; you guys be the judge. Anyway, can you believe this? Me and Clagg?”

“With your own show that people actually want to listen to? Absolutely not. You’d have to pay me to listen to this s*it.”

Mylo laughed, Claggor giggled. “Alright, so Arcane Magic, the new album…what’s the inspo, what got you back in the studio?”

“My new label, man,” Vi answered truthfully. “They believed in me, believed in the fans, saw the potential. Credit where credit is due, I’d still be sitting at home on my couch without them.”

“Oh yeah, you’re a big shot now. Got that Kiramman Records money, baby. Come a long way since Zaun, huh?”

“Yeah, I don’t—uh—it’s a different vibe, that’s all I’ll say.”

“They treating you right?” Claggor piped up like he was genuinely wondering.

Vi pursed her lips. “I’m in a better spot now, yeah. Personally, professionally. It’s been good.”

“Personally, huh?” Mylo waggled his eyebrows. “Care to enlighten us? The tabloids are talking, Vi, did you really manage to bag yourself the young Kiramman herself? Heir to the throne you serve? The balls on you.”

“Shut up,” Vi brushed that off, trying to keep her tone light. “What I do with my evenings…and the early hours of my mornings…and sometimes my afternoons is between me and god.”

“And Caitlyn Kiramman,” Mylo supplied.

Vi bit her lip, the conversation having arrived at the choice point she knew was coming. “It’s mostly up to her, imma be honest.”

“No shit?”

Vi shrugged. “What can I say, I aim to please.”

“She’s hot,” Claggor said, Mylo nodding with enthusiasm, adding “Undercity Radio Certified Baddie.”

“I thought I was here to answer questions about my music, can you keep it in your pants at least until I leave the studio?”

“We can, but Twitter has no chill,” Mylo laughed, scrolling through the tweets they’d received since the interview began. He cleared his throat before reading aloud. “@Emily_1998 says what does she have that I don’t, Vi? Height? Boobs? A nice butt? Money? OK, nevermind, I get it.”

Claggor pressed a button on his soundboard, a comedic cymbal sound effect playing as they laughed.

“@Visexualsunite says if someone had told me all I had to do to bag Vi was be rich and pretty, I…still wouldn’t have bagged Vi because no one’s that rich or that pretty.”

They chose the laugh track effect this time.

“@mike65 said when’s that sex tape dropping @therealvi? I’ll bring the popcorn (and a tube sock) ayyyoooo,” Mylo howled, paying little mind to how Vi’s hand clenched into a fist and gradually relaxed. “Alright, alright, we’ll be back with Vi after your top requested hit—this is Beautiful by Ekko featuring Jinx, here we go.”

Vi waited until the ‘live’ indicator switched off to speak. “You can be a real prick, you know that?”

“Obviously, I’m a shock jockey, dumbass.”

“You were a prick before you had this gig.”

“It’s true,” Claggor agreed with Vi.

“Are you just playing Jinx to piss me off?”

Mylo scoffed. “Most requested, Vi. I know it’s been a while since anyone wanted to listen to your shit, but when people wanna hear stuff, they ask us to play it. And people really wanna hear your sister and her boyfriend sing about making sweet, sweet love to each other.”

—The way that Gucci looks on you amazin’, but nothing can compare to when you’re naked—

Vi tried to tune it out.

“—you kinda fell off the planet there,” Mylo was still talking, evidently. “After Silco dropped you, I mean. Dodged our calls, iced us out…I get the whole growing apart thing, but you just disappeared one day.”

Vi couldn’t help but grit her teeth at the mention of Silco. “He didn’t drop me, I got out.”

“Yeah, you got out,” Claggor agreed. “But you left Powder behind.”

“Did you forget the court order?”

“Look, your publicist booked you, alright? It’s not like we called you here out of the blue for a guilt trip,” Mylo reminded her. “I’d just be careful flaunting the new label and new, uh, conquest. A person can change a lot in 6 years, and Powder’s…she’s…Jinx, now. I’d just…try to remember that, if I were you, if the restraining order gets lifted. She’s not gonna forget any of this.”

Vi’s sweat felt cold on her skin, though she burned with misplaced anger. “Forget what?”

“You looking happy without her.”

/

“Leave her the fuck alone!”

The flashing was disorienting.

“Can’t you guys see she’s not OK? Fucking animals!”

She took a swing, fist connecting with flesh and bone.

“She’s just a kid!

“Vi?” Caitlyn was speaking, probably had been speaking, for a while now. “Are you even listening?”

She hadn’t been. She’d been stuck, looming over that man, his camera broken on the sidewalk beside him.

“Vi,” Cait had a soothing hand on her arm now, thumb rubbing soft circles on her wrist. “Are you alright?”

She wasn’t, of course, and she wasn’t sure yet how she was going to hide that, what coping mechanism she’d use to mask it.

“I can—I know today was difficult.” Cait’s thumb stopped. “Between my mother and Mel and Jayce and your interview…you might—it’s OK to need space, Vi. Perhaps I shouldn’t have invited myself over…”

“Vi, please,” Powder sobbed. “Make it stop make it stop make it stop!”

“No, stop, don’t go,” Vi reached out as Cait stood up from her stool at the kitchen island, grabbing her by the hand to freeze her in her tracks, keep her close. “You can stay. I want you to stay.”

Cait hesitated for a moment before taking a step closer. “Are you alright?” she repeated.

“Can I fuck you?”

Cait blinked.

“Here.” Vi stood up. “I want to bend you over and fuck you right here. Can I get my strap?”

“V-Vi,” Cait stammered, face flushed beet red, aroused despite how she may have been put off by the abruptness of the question. “I don’t think—,”

Vi surged forward into a passionate kiss, her tongue sliding past Cait’s lips without asking for permission, inspiring that half scandalized, half desperate squeak Vi was already beginning to crave. Cait was still in the same jeans and blouse she’d been wearing that morning, so Vi picked up where she’d been interrupted, pulling the shirt from Cait’s waistband entirely this time, running her hands, rough and greedy, across the soft skin there, prying, groping…

Cait reciprocated quickly, breaking the kiss to yank Vi’s tank top up and over her head, letting it fall to the kitchen floor as Vi captured her lips again, Cait’s blunt fingernails scratching up her back, stopped by her sports bra. She tugged at that too, but Vi ignored her, pushing her hands away as she ripped Cait’s shirt open—

Vi grabbed him by his shirt collar, yanking him up to a sitting position. He cowered away from her.

—the buttons bouncing on the wood floor, Cait’s chest exposed and painted with the same picturesque flush her face was, the color spreading down her neck…

“Ah!” Cait clutched Vi’s head to her breast as Vi yanked her bra down, not bothering to unclasp it, nipping and sucking. When she bit down, Cait’s whine hit a pitch Vi hadn’t heard yet. She soothed the stiff nipple with her tongue, one hand holding Cait’s breast in place for her mouth while the other grabbed roughly at her ass.

“Vi, please! You’ve gotta make them go away!”

“Please, Vi, I want—I want it, fuck, I want you.”

Fuck.

Cait’s lips looked so pretty, parting away from that word as it slipped past. Vi embraced the primal groan that came from her own throat, spinning Cait around in her arms and shoving her against the counter, pressing herself tight behind her, unbuckling Cait’s belt and jeans, unzipping the fly and plunging her hand past her underwear, movement inhibited by the form-fitting denim, but with enough room to feel just how wet Cait was. Soaked. Ruined.

“Take these off,” Vi instructed, hot breath puffing against the shell of Cait’s ear. “All of it. And wait here.”

Cait let out another desperate whine, hips bucking against Vi’s hand until she pulled it away, forcefully stilling Cait’s hips against the counter. “Did you imagine this? In your bedroom at night, looking at that stupid poster, did you fantasize about me taking you like this?”

Cait nodded, shaking with every rapid breath she took. She leaned back against Vi to steady herself, wrapping a hand around her head and twisting her own so their lips could meet.

“I won’t disappoint, Cupcake,” Vi murmured against her. “Be good.”

She left her with one more meaningful press of her hips against Cait’s ass, Cait moaning at the sensation. Vi used the solo walk to her bedroom (more of a jog, really) to wipe Powder from her mind, stuff her back in that little box where she lived alongside the other broken things.

Cait didn’t live there, not yet. But it was inevitable. Cait looked at her with too much kindness, too much empathy. That couldn’t survive in Vi’s world, it never did, but it didn’t have to be tonight. She could have her for now, take her, fuck her, make her beg, make her cum. She could be everything Caitlyn Kiramman had ever wanted for, if only for tonight. The rest she’d deal with later, one day at a time.

Cait was waiting for her, naked from the waist down, when Vi returned, already wearing the strap—not her biggest, but definitely her favorite, the one with just the right length, girth and curve to satisfy but not completely overwhelm.

Glancing back over her shoulder at the sound of footsteps, Cait’s eyes widening at the image, lips parting delicately. “Mm—,” she stifled her own moan, head whipping back to face forward, hands clenching on the countertop.

Vi sidled up behind her, grabbing her ass with a possessive hand. “I can be gentle, if you need me to.”

Cait shook her head. “I don’t want that, not right now.”

Vi smacked her ass in response, not as hard as she could, but with enough force that Cait understood the power behind her body.

“Ah!”

Fuck, Vi wished she could record this, keep the sounds Cait made with her indefinitely, to play every time she got lost in her own head. But then she thought about that stupid tweet from some asshole named Mike who probably lived in his mom’s basement and the moment was taken from her.

She placed her hand in the center of Cait’s back, pressing her forward against the counter and spreading her legs for her. Without warning or further ceremony, Vi sank to her knees, craning her neck to lick from front to back, taking the time to press into her sopping wet center for a taste. Cait was nearly hyperventilating above her, and Vi took that and the rush of wetness that coated her tongue as evidence she as ready.

“Tell me you want it.”

“Please,” Cait craned her neck to look back at her, not moving from her bent over position. “I want it. I want you. I want to be—make me yours.”

Vi’s heart clenched at the possessive language. She was pretty sure she was in over her head. Cassandra and Mel and Jayce and the fucking internet and the tabloids and Mylo and Claggor and the goddamn demons in her head shaped like memories had made sure of that.

But she could forget, for the moment. She could forget, as she pressed against Cait’s entrance, meeting nearly no resistance. Hot and wet and ready for her, a delicious whine falling from her mouth as she pushed inside, a groan when she bottomed out, the two of them sealed together, Vi’s mind blissfully empty.

“Please, Vi—ah!—I can’t—mm—yes!” Cait’s ass was firm at the end of each stroke, one of Vi’s hands gripping Cait’s hip, keeping her in place as she fucked her, the other twisted in Cait’s long, dark hair.

Mine.

Mine, for now.

Mine until she realizes I’m not the fucking poster on her wall.

Vi deepened her strokes first, Cait gasping each time she bottomed out, hands pressing into the marble countertop, taking, taking. When Cait began to tighten around her, Vi sped up, releasing her hair and grabbing Cait’s blouse from around her shoulders, pulling down until the fabric trapped her hands behind the small of her back, using Cait’s arms to drag her back harder, deeper, faster, meeting her hips and the strap halfway.

“Yes—y—yes, Vi, you feel—ff—please don’t stop.”

“Don’t stop what?” Vi gritted, tightening her jaw in an attempt to keep herself together.

“Don’t stop fucking me,” Cait gasped.

Not on your life, Cupcake.

Vi took Cait’s right leg in her hand, manually bending it at the knee and pushing it up onto the counter, holding it there as she continued to fill her until she felt Cait clench around the shaft, something approaching a scream ripping from her throat as her back tensed and her body shook, freeing her hands to press herself backwards into Vi until her hips stopped rolling, her moans fading to heavy breathing.

The guilt set in immediately.

Caitlyn Kiramman and the sounds she makes when I fuck her and the way she clenches and tightens around me is not a distraction. This is my boss’ fucking daughter, not some woman I can just forget about the next day, not some phone number I can lose.

This was a mistake.

Why can’t I stop making mistakes?

She pulled out gently and Cait whimpered, taking a moment to catch her breath before standing upright, turning to look at Vi with an expression of such immense pleasure Vi nearly forgot again. Forgot that this was a mistake.

“I’ve never been…” Cait trailed off, trying to blink the haze from her eyes and wiping the sweat beading down her forehead with the back of her hand. “I’ve asked to be treated like that before, like I’m—like I’m not some porcelain doll, like I’m not delicate—like I want to be broken and no ones ever…I can’t believe you just…I can’t believe you’re real,” she laughed. “It’s you,” she reached out to cup Vi’s face in her hands. “God, you’re so sexy.”

Vi sorta…froze, not expecting that. Not sure what she’d been expecting.

Definitely not expecting Cait to fall to her knees, certainly not expecting her to run her tongue along the length of the shaft, cleaning off every last drop of herself before loosening the harness and yanking it down, tossing it aside as she pushed Vi back against that same countertop, wrapping her arms around Vi’s strong thighs, her tongue working wonders…magic…Arcane Magic…fuck, not sexy, don’t think about that…

Vi came in under 45 seconds, her pleasure sudden and overwhelming, hand clenching probably too hard in Cait’s hair. Not that Cait seemed to care. Seemed to like it based on how she moaned against her, wringing every last ounce of pleasure, swallowing it so obscenely Vi had to bite down on her own hand.

“I’m not ready to stop fucking you,” Vi breathed once she came down from her high, helping Cait to her feet and kissing the taste of her off her lips.

“Me neither.”

“So I guess we’re, uh—,” Vi squinted to recall Cassandra’s exact verbiage. “Very much in love, then.”

Chapter Text

Vi chewed on her thumbnail, watching as Cait studied the paper intently, brow furrowed in concentration, eyes seeming to scan each line twice before moving to the next.

“Well?” Vi encouraged, pretty much out of patience. “What does it say?”

Cait silently flipped to the next page, the sound of her wet finger on the paper deafening in the otherwise silent bedroom. “Almost done…”

“What, you have to read the whole thing to gimme the fuckin’ cliffnotes?” Vi complained, pacing now.

“I can give you a quick answer or an accurate one,” Cait sounded distracted. “Which would you prefer?”

“I’m fucked, aren’t I?”

“Um…no…” Cait’s eyes lingered on a section towards the bottom of the page. “You seem to not appreciate being taken care of first…”

Vi rolled her eyes. “Will you focus, please?”

“You’re distracting me.”

“Fine,” Vi forced herself to stand still, needing every ounce of her self-control not to begin shadow-boxing her anxiety away. “Fine,” she said again, this time just for her.

“Violet.”

“Yes?”

“You do not pose an immediate danger to your sister.”

Vi let the words wash over her, their salve briefly filling the fissures that made her less than a whole person. “I’m not?”

“Of course not,” that was Cait talking, not the legal document, and Vi was grateful. “Based on the exhibits provided, the restraining order will be allowed to lapse without renewal unless other, more compelling evidence is brought forth.”

“And they don’t have any, right? Any compelling evidence?” Vi’s heart raced in her chest.

Cait shook her head to confirm. “No, that’s why they’ve allowed it to lapse.”

“So, I can see her, then? If I want to? I mean, if she—it’s OK if I see her?”

“Yes.”

Vi felt the pressure of tears behind her eyes and fought hard to keep them at bay, not ready for Cait to see her like that.

“How long has it been?” Cait wondered, looking at Vi like she knew, she knew.

“Um,” Vi sniffed, clearing her throat. “6 years, I think.” She knew, too. “It’s stupid, she probably doesn’t even want to—I don’t know,” she stopped herself short. “Maybe she hates me, after all this. I’m sure Silco spent the whole time filling her head with fucking bullshit, so this court thing probably doesn’t even matter. It was a pretty good excuse, I guess, to run away. Maybe I’ll miss it.”

Cait placed the dense court decision beside her on the bed, gingerly rising to her feet, watching Vi from across the room. “She’ll want to see you,” her voice was soft, kind. Sure. “I have all the faith in the world she’s missed you just as much.”

Vi laughed—hollow and sad. “You don’t know Powder. She can really hold a grudge.”

“You’re still sisters, Vi. I don’t know the specifics of what happened, but—,” Cait was closing the space between them, taking Vi’s hands where they were bunched into fists, tight at her sides. “—I know that you have a good heart, and I’m sure Powder must know that too, despite it all.”

“God,” Vi breathed out another laugh, lighter this time. “Your optimism is so gross.”

Cait quirked an eyebrow. “Gross?”

“Disgusting,” Vi whispered, taking Cait’s hips in her hands and pulling her forward. “Makes me nauseous, for real.”

“Mm…” Cait bit her lip, half smiling as Vi kissed and sucked at her neck. “This nausea…it’s an uneasy feeling? A sort of…fluttering? A pulsing?”

“Yeah, that’s it,” Vi bit down gently, her other hand raising the hem of Cait’s skirt.

“Where do you feel it?” Cait wondered, her own hand hovering against Vi’s bare stomach, slowly inching downwards. “Here?” she wondered, pressing against Vi’s lower abdomen, the muscles there quivering below her touch. “Or…here, maybe?” she slid her hand beneath the waistband of Vi’s sweatpants.

Vi groaned against her neck. “Almost…yeah…maybe…try a little deeper?”

“Here?” Cait pressed inside her.

“Y—yep!”

Vi could feel Cait’s smile when she pressed her lips to Vi’s temple, backing her up against the wall, her fingers never leaving her. “Seems a more thorough investigation is in order.”

/

“It’s wonderful news, Vi,” Mel assured her. “It’s just, this is an opportunity, and we need to be tactful about how we capitalize.”

“No, she’s my baby sister.”

“Yes.”

“Not a fucking opportunity.”

“She’s both, Vi, I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news,” Mel didn’t sound all that sorry.  “Jayce has already spoken with Ekko about a collaboration, we think that’s the best way to ease into a Powder-Keg reunion, being that Jinx’s brand is very much tied to Ekko’s these days, despite her manager and label’s best efforts.”

“Silco.”

“Yes, Vi, Silco.” Mel took a bite of her salad and a sip of water before speaking again. “The song’s been written and Ekko is on board. We’ve scheduled studio time for you this Tuesday. You’ll be the feature and he’ll be releasing it as a single.”

“OK, whatever, when do I get to see Powder?”

“They’re playing the amphitheater on the first of the month, we won’t have you debut the single then, more just tease the collaboration.”

“You’re telling me you want me to wait two fucking weeks to see my sister after Silco kept her from me for 6 goddamn years?”

“Those were Jinx’s terms.”

Vi blinked, her head tilting of its own accord. “Huh?”

“Jinx asked Ekko to tell Jayce—,”

“This is so stupid.”

“—that she’d see you at the amphitheater.”

“In two weeks.”

“Yes, Vi, please try to keep up.”

Vi scowled. “She say anything else?”

Mel pursed her lips, closing the lid on the to-go container her salad was kept in. “She wants to perform with you. A song from Powder-Keg’s catalogue.”

“Which one?”

“That’s up to her, those are her terms. She just asked that you be ready.”

/

Ekko was wearing a tank top and cargo pants when they met, his nearly white-blonde hair performing some gravity defying feat, a small dog tucked under his arm.

“Damn, the woman, the myth, the legend,” he grinned, reaching out with his free hand to dap Vi up. “It’s a pleasure, sis, truly.”

He’s shorter in person, Vi smiled, remembering Cait saying that the first time they’d met. “No, the pleasure’s mine. Thanks so much for doing this, Jayce hasn’t shut up about it for months. Who’s this little dude?” she was asking about the dog, ignoring the roll of Jayce’s eyes where he stood in the corner.

“This is Heimerdinger, little man’s my good luck charm,” Ekko was still grinning, bright white teeth on a handsome face, looking softer than he seemed on stage or in interviews. Softer than Vi expected from whatever this iteration of Jinx was.

I trust him.

Vi frowned at the thought.

“I think you’ll dig the song,” Ekko was still talking. “It’s fun, a lot of energy. Think it’ll, you know, translate well on stage with all your white girl swagger,” he did a decent impression of one of Vi’s patented choreographed dance moves from her Powder-Keg days and then laughed at his own joke.

“That’s a low blow,” Vi chuckled, appreciating his unguarded approach. She was worried this introduction would start with a pissing contest as she wasn’t sure what Powder had told him about her. Maybe that would come later. Vi hadn’t been trained to trust kindness or bright white smiles. “Powder teach you that?”

Ekko’s energy changed, then. Just slightly. His stance tightening, tongue flicking out to wet his lips. “Nah, Jinx didn’t teach me,” he emphasized the name. “I used to be a fan, actually. Tried to get you to feature on a track back when I was with the Firelights before I went solo. You didn’t get back to me.”

Oh.

“That was a while back, though. Would’a been just after you and Jinx split, so…probably weren’t in the right headspace.”

Vi stood up from her bed on unsteady legs, stumbling to the bathroom, the toilet seat slipping from her grasp as she tried to pull it up, vomit splashing—

“Sorry, man, I…I don’t remember.”

Ekko nodded, some sort of understanding communicated in the brief silence. “It’s all good.”

Heimerdinger barked, and Jayce took that as his cue to remind them he was in the room, clapping his hands and adding an enthusiastic, “Shall we get to work?”

/

“Are you alright with something red?” Cait wondered, briefly stealing Vi’s attention.

“I don’t care.”

“Will you drink it if I order it?”

“Cupcake, seriously, just order whatever you want. If it’s alcohol, I’ll drink it.”

“Fine,” Cait sighed, nodding at the waiter to confirm and reaching across the table to take Vi’s drink menu from her, handing it off so that they could be left alone.

But not alone.

Never. Alone.

“Ignore them,” Cait murmured, and even without looking Vi could tell her eyes were on her, filled with that gentle encouragement that made Vi’s heart clench.

“I asked them not to seat us by the fucking window.”

“Violet, I told them the window was fine,” Cait revealed. “The booth seat was another 30-minute wait and I’m sorry, but, I’m hungry. I was in class all day long and then had a tedious mock trial this evening and didn’t get a chance to eat.”

Vi’s jaw clenched, forcing her eyes away from the picture window, away from the mass of greedy people and camera lenses, focusing instead on the fine weave of the tablecloth. “It’s fine.”

“Would you stop saying that?” Cait snapped.

Vi flinched at her tone.

“It doesn’t have to be fine, Violet. God, just—,” she seemed to gather herself, take a deep breath. “I’m sorry, that was rude. Vi, look at me, please.”

Vi did and she saw the apology there, even though there wasn’t really anything to apologize for.

“I’ve seen the video.”

Vi’s muscles tightened without command.

“Of you and the…” Cait trailed off, nodding discreetly out the window. Vi knew the video. She didn’t need Cait to specify. The TMZ watermark may as well have been stained on her soul. “You were protecting her, Vi, that’s clear to see. They were way too close and way too aggressive. I don’t think any mother or father, or older sibling could watch that video without achieving some modicum of understanding.”

“I beat that man, Cait.”

“I know you did.”

“I already had him down on the ground, he was fucking begging me to stop, his hands were up, I—,” Vi closed her eyes. “I sent him to the hospital.”

Cait nodded, folding her napkin in her lap to distract herself. “I know you did,” she said again.

They were quiet for a moment, their silence punctuated by the murmured conversations around them and the clicking of the cameras outside the window.

“Do you feel guilty about it still?”

Vi hesitated before nodding.

“Which part?”

“That I couldn’t—that I didn’t stop.”

“But not about defending Powder?”

Vi shook her head this time. She would never apologize for that.

“Would you do it again?”

Vi grabbed for a piece of bread in the basket between them. “Yeah.”

“The same way?” Cait asked.

“No, I was still a kid back then, I—,”

“Exactly.”

Vi stopped tearing the bread apart, looking up at Caitlyn now, brow furrowing.

“You were a kid back then,” Cait reminded her, answering her silent question. “Forced into this impossible parental role for you sister in this horrible industry where danger lurks around every corner, in every kindness. You were doing what you needed to for survival, Vi. Yours and hers. And yes, you took it too far, mistakes are bound to happen, and that man has been well compensated for his troubles. The important distinction is you’d handle it differently now.”

“I’d still probably throw a punch…”

“Perhaps.”

“But I wouldn’t…I don’t think I’d follow him to the ground like that.”

“I don’t think so either,” Caitlyn agreed, reaching across the table to take Vi’s hand, raising the scarred knuckles to her lips.

I don’t want to break you I don’t want to break you I don’t want to break you.

Heat spread from Vi’s fingertips, soothing the anxiety she’d been dealing with since they got out of the car, the paparazzi following them across the street and nearly into the restaurant before the host shut the door.

“Have you decided what you wanted to eat, yet?” Cait asked, smiling as she placed Vi’s hand back on the table and opened her dinner menu. “If you’re needing a good protein source the filet mignon is delightful.”

“Are you on the menu?”

“I…” Cait bit her lip to contain her grin, flashing the small gap in her front teeth. “Happen to know their bathrooms are single occupant.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhm. And that we’ll have perhaps 15 minutes to kill once we place our orders.”

“15 minutes, huh?”

“Can you work with that?”

“I’ll only need 10.”

/

Vi pulled her leather jacket down tighter around her shoulders despite the heat, needing something to ground her, something to press into her skin. Vi had never had trouble discerning fantasy from reality, not like Powder, but even sober this moment seemed more like a hallucination than any truth she’d ever lived.

Jayce placed a comforting hand on her shoulder like he was sometimes prone to do. Normally she’d shrug it off, make a joke, but tonight she let it stay, let it help her feel solid, remind her that she took up space in this world.

The stage lights flickered, the audience screaming even at the suggestion of Ekko and Jinx, the atmosphere electric, thrumming with anticipation.

Vi watched from backstage as the house lights turned off, plunging the amphitheater into sudden darkness before one spotlight shone down, Jinx at center stage, long braids trailing down her back, nearly brushing the ground.

She held the microphone stand with both hands, confident and in control, her bare stomach rippling subtly with each quiet breath.

“Cross my heart, hope to die / to my lover, I’d never lie / he said be true, I swear I’ll try / in the end, it’s him and I—,”

The intro was nearly acapella, the audience erupting at the simple sound of Jinx’s voice, tone precise with a slight rasp. Always better than the more polished version in the studio recordings.

“—he’s out his head, I’m out my mind / we’ve got that love, the crazy kind / I am his, and he is mine / in the end it’s him and I, him and I—,”

The rest of the stage was all at once illuminated, Ekko entering from stage right, beginning to rap as the beat dropped, something about Bonnie and Clyde, Vi wasn’t really listening, she was watching Jinx. Watching her smile as Ekko walked behind her, trailing his fingers over her waist then splaying his hand over her stomach, holding her tight to his body.

“—got that kinda style everybody try to rip off / YSL dress under when she takes the mink off / silk on her body, pull it down and watch it slip off / ever catch me cheating, she would try to cut my—,”

Jinx giggled into her microphone to finish the line.

“Crazy, but I love her, I could never run from her / hit it, no rubber would never let no one touch her—,”

Vi looked away, realizing it was a little immature to feel uncomfortable, but…the last time she’d seen Powder in person, Powder was 14 years old. Like, her boobs had barely even come in. And Vi had made it a point to avoid the Jinx persona as much as possible because it was painful and Vi was selfish but…she hadn’t realized how jarring it would be to see her in person after all this time. To see a fully grown woman in the place her little sister had once occupied.

“—I swear we drive each other mad, she be so stubborn / but what the fuck is love with no pain, no suffer—,”

It was gone, it was done, it was over. Powder—Jinx had grown up, and Vi had missed it.

“Shit,” Vi whispered, eyes becoming glossy with moisture.

“Are you alright?” Jayce asked.

“Yeah, don’t touch me,” Vi shrugged him off.

“—in the end, it’s him and I, him and I…”

“I don’t, uh, really like the song either,” Jayce confessed like maybe that was what she was about to cry over. “It works for their brand, though. Two kind’ve messed up kids from Zaun who found each other. Not…saying Jinx is messed up, she’s just—,”

“She is,” Vi cut him off. “She is messed up, Jayce. We all are.”

Jayce didn’t seem to know what to say, so he just nodded as the song ended, the two standing silently through almost the entire rest of the set.

“Is she what you expected?” he finally asked.

“I don’t know what I expected,” Vi answered truthfully. “I guess maybe I was worried I wouldn’t recognize her.”

“Do you?”

“Yeah,” Vi’s smile was sad, something sitting heavy on her shoulders. “It’s just different.”

“You guuuyyyyysssssss,” Jinx was speaking into the microphone now. “I have a super fun, extra special surprise. Are you excited?”

The audience cheered.

“Holy shit, you guys are excited,” she grinned, glancing backstage, but not long enough for she and Vi to make eye contact. “Well, I dunno if she’s worth all that, I’m not tryna under deliver here, but…” she stage-whispered the next part conspiratorially, “Someone I love is backstage, you guys. A very special someone I haven’t seen in a very long time.”

Vi felt her palms get sweaty and Jayce helped her take her jacket off.

“You guys might know her,” Jinx continued. “She looks a little bit like me, I guess. Eyes are a little lighter, hair’s a little shorter, muscles a little bigger…”

It seemed like some people were catching on, judging by how the noise level in the building was steadily rising.

“It’s my sister,” Jinx giggled. “Sister thought I missed her. Viiiii,” she beckoned in a sing song voice which seemed to send the audience into a frenzy. “Come out, come out, wherever you are….”

Jayce’s pat on the back propelled her forward, and Vi stepped on stage in somewhat of a daze, Jinx’s eyes on her now.

No, Powder’s.

These were Powder’s eyes, big and wide and shaking with emotion. She shoved her microphone back in the stand and bridged the rest of the space between them, Vi holding out her arms for Powder to crash into, drawing another cheer from the crowd. Vi wasn’t listening, she didn’t care. All she cared about was the feeling of her sister in her arms—frail but real, flesh and blood and skin and bone.

Vi felt tears spill down her own cheeks as Powder held her, whispering “Are you real?” against Vi’s t-shirt, staining it with an errant press of mascara.

“I’m real, Pow-Pow, it’s me,” she said without thinking. “I missed you so much.”

Powder either didn’t hear or didn’t mind the nickname, squeezing Vi impossibly tighter. “If I let go, you’ll still be here, right?”

“Yes,” Vi whispered into her hair. “I promise. I’m not going anywhere.”

“My sister, you guys!” Jinx called out to the audience, holding Vi’s hand up once they’d separated. “Can you believe it?”

They whistled and clapped in response, seemingly very invested in this reunion.

“She promised she’d sing a song with me, you guys wanna hear some Powder-Keg?”

The answer was a resounding yes.

“OK, I get to pick the song, though, right, Vi? Your publicist promised.”

Vi nodded, wiping the tears from her cheeks.

“OK,” Jinx’s grin turned maniacal, and she reached back to Ekko for his microphone, which he handed over with a chuckle, Jinx then passing it to Vi. “You remember the whole catalogue?”

“I think I can manage.”

Jinx bit her lip when the instrumental began…and Vi immediately realized she’d made a mistake.

Oh no.

“I’ll take the first verse,” Jinx winked. “When I get chills at night, I feel it deep inside / without you, yeah—,”

“Powder…”

She shook her head. “—know how to satisfy, keepin’ that tempo right / without you, yeah—too late, sis! No take backs I—Pictures in my mind on replay / I’m gonna touch the pain away / I know how to scream my own name / scream my name—,”

“This is cruel.”

“Need you on the high part here, I’m an alto, sorry.”

Vi reluctantly lifted the microphone to her lips and they sang together.

“I love me! / Gonna love myself, no, I don’t need anyone else—,”

Jinx added a “hey!”

“—gonna love myself, no, I don’t need anyone else / anytime that I like / I love me!”

“Take it away, sis!” Jinx teased.

Vi rolled her eyes, unable to hide her smile. “I take it nice and slow, feeling good on my own / without you, yeah / Got me speaking in tongues, the beautiful it comes / without you, yeah—,”

“It can be about self esteem or masturbation!” Jinx shouted over the instrumental. “It’s a choose your own adventure song!”

“I’m gonna put my body first / and love me so hard til it hurts / I know how to scream out the words / scream the words—,”

Jinx joined in. “I love me! / gonna love myself, no, I don’t need anyone else—,”

Vi held the microphone out to the audience as she bounced around, feeling light, all of a sudden. Feeling silly and happy and weightless.

“—I love me!”

Jinx rushed into another hug as soon as the song finished and Vi lifted her, twirling her around in the air.

“Goodnight, Piltover!” Ekko shouted, waving goodbye to the audience as the houselights came on.

Vi was first off stage, Jinx hanging back with Ekko to thank the crowd, and Caitlyn was waiting for her, wearing a big, stupid, gap-toothed smile.

“That was great!” she exclaimed; her excitement genuine. “You two were incredible, I can’t believe you sang that song!”

Vi found herself laughing, really, truly laughing as she wrapped Cait into a hug, peppering her cheeks and then her lips with sweet kisses she couldn’t bring herself to feel self-conscious about. “You probably loved that song.”

“I certainly did, please kindly drop it,” Cait was laughing too, holding Vi’s face in her hands now to press a real kiss to her lips, one that made Vi’s stomach flutter beyond the foreign happiness already coursing through her.

They had just separated, Cait running her thumb along Vi’s cheekbone when—

“Who is she?”

Chapter Text

“Oh, hey, sorry,” Vi tuned her smile towards Jinx, taking Cait’s hand as they separated. “This is Caitlyn, she’s a friend.”

Jinx’s demeanor had changed, vibrating at a higher frequency now, not the confident and composed performer Vi had just witnessed, but the self-conscious, self-sabotaging 15-year-old she’d left behind. Her eyes flitted from Vi to Cait and back again, down to their joined hands… “A friend, huh?” Jinx prompted, attention on Vi now, excluding Cait completely. “You guys on the same page about that?”

Vi frowned, confused by the question until she glanced over at Cait and watched her mouth snap shut, a blush color her cheeks.

“Yeah…didn’t think so,” Jinx mocked, nearly sneered. “She’s rarely on the same page, Princess. There’s the inside scoop.”

“Aye.” Ekko had just joined them by that point, placing a strong hand on Jinx’s shoulder, sparing a soothing look. “What’s going on? You good?”

It took a moment for Jinx to process the question, for Vi to process Jinx’s remark, but when they did, Vi let go of Caitlyn’s hand and Jinx seemed to shake herself back into a more recognizable form, her posture loosening, right shoulder slumping, asymmetrical, hip dropping casually. “Bad manners, bad manners,” Jinx muttered, first to herself and then louder, looking at Cait again, eyes softening only slightly. “Sorry, Princess, I just…didn’t think Vi would bring a…friend…to our big reunion extravaganza. Figured, after 6 years, we might get some sister time, ya know?”

“I’m—I’m so terribly sorry,” Cait rushed to apologize, somehow making herself the villain here. “I was—I’d been looking forward to meeting you. Vi speaks of you with such affection, I thought—well, it doesn’t matter what I thought,” she cut herself off. “You two were wonderful up there, you three, really. I’ll—,”

“Hey, wait a minute,” Jinx interrupted her, eyes narrowing and then widening in recognition. “I know you. Caitlyn Kiramman, right? Yelling on the sidewalk in your PJs Caitlyn. Kissing Vi’s hand in the restaurant like her knight in shining armor Caitlyn. Yeah, I know you,” she grinned. “Vi’s meal ticket Caitlyn.”

Vi bristled at that. “Powder—,”

“My name’s fucking Jinx, Violet,” Jinx snapped. “Or did you forget our little baptism by motor oil?”

The question was met with silence, Ekko the one ultimately brave enough to try and cut the tension.

“Would alcohol help or hurt?”

“Help,” Vi and Jinx agreed in unison.

“Hurt,” Jayce interjected, the four of them jumping at the reminder of his presence.

“Sorry, bucko,” Jinx slapped him on the back once she’d recovered from the scare. “I don’t answer to you. What do you think,” she turned to Vi and Ekko. “Babette’s?”  

/

A strip club with her sister was not a place or situation Vi ever thought she’d find herself in, but…times change, sisters grow up, they go to strip clubs…evidently.

“I’m trying to get a round of shots,” Vi leaned over the bar, repeating her order for the 3^rd time. Goddamn, it’s loud in here.

She’d become somewhat of a regular after Powder-Keg broke up, enough to be on good terms with the owner and know which nights her favorite girls would be on stage…but she hadn’t been in a little while. A few months, actually. She’d gone out after signing with Kiramman Records as a sort of last hurrah of bad behavior and hadn’t been back. Hadn’t had the time or a reason…the need, maybe, or even the craving. Huh.

“These are on the house, right, Babs?” Jinx was shouting over her shoulder, both hands clasped possessively onto Vi’s forearm.

“Just the first round, Jinx, can’t imagine I’ve gotta do your pocketbooks any favors,” Babette drawled in her early-model madame way, electric cigarette dangling from the corner of her mouth, sparing a wink in Vi’s direction. “For the pretty ladies and that fine young gentleman who probably shouldn’t give you the time’a day.” She pushed a full tray of drinks across the bar.

“You’re doin’ great, Babs,” Jinx mocked, splitting the drink load with Vi, the two of them turning towards the table where they’d abandoned Cait and Ekko.

“How long have you been coming here?” Vi wondered.

“Oh, uh, not long,” Jinx offered a tight-lipped smile in her direction, their shoulders brushing every few steps. “Just a few months, really. Sevika said she saw you here one time and I thought…maybe I’d run into you. Can’t be against the law if it’s an accident, right?”

“You came looking for me?”

“Course I did,” Jinx smiled again, with more emotion this time, though she ducked her head away from Vi. “I couldn’t stop missing you.”

They’d arrived at the table by that point, but Vi wished the walk had been longer, wished she could record over the memories that kept her up at night and replay this one instead.

“Yo, I didn’t know you could play the drums!” Ekko was grinning up at her, unaware he was interrupting. “Jinx’s been holding out on me, your lady here’s got all the insider info.”

“I’m nothing special,” Vi plopped down in the booth next to Cait, passing out the drinks. “I just like finding the rhythm in things. With the drums, when I’m lifting, when I’m boxing, whatever.” There was a natural rhythm in fucking too, but this was only half the right crowd. “It, uh, soothes me, I guess. To tap into that.”

Cait reached over to squeeze her hand, looking at her like every word out of her mouth comprised some timeless soliloquy. It landed wrong, that expression, because Vi was pretty sure she’d only said four words in her life that had actually mattered, and those had brought more hurt than she could even fathom.

“You’re a jinx, Powder!”

Four words, and then six.

“I don’t need you, old man!”

And yet…

Why does she look at me like that?

It was different than the other girls, not just blind admiration reflected back at her in Caitlyn’s eyes, but like…understanding, or reverence, maybe. Something that felt deep and heavy and embarrassing to be contemplating in front of her sister, something she should probably revisit at another time, or never again. Vi was pretty sure that thing, whatever it was, would break them. That thing Cait felt that Vi maybe wasn’t capable of. That Vi didn’t deserve from someone like Caitlyn Kiramman. Or anyone at all, maybe.

“Aye, will you take your fucking shot?” Jinx reached across the table to flick her on the forehead, effectively yanking Vi from her thoughts.

“Don’t go all contemplative on us, way too early for all that,” Ekko laughed, downing his in one smooth swig, Caitlyn recoiling at the taste of hers, but still swallowing the harsh liquid.

“Sorry,” Vi allowed herself to smile, first stealing a glance at Cait, her dark eyebrows drawn together in a silent question. What’s going on inside your head… Jinx was a welcome distraction when she mirrored Vi’s movements, raising the small glass to her lips. “To…family,” Vi said over the brim, eyes locked on Jinx’s. “To sisters.”

“And the friends they met along the way,” Jinx amended with a wicked grin, malice disappearing within a broken smile, a gulp of liquid.

It singed Vi’s throat on the way down, the burn familiar and unpleasant, settling Vi in the moment, this surreal moment when her sister had been returned to her so different and yet, like nothing but time had passed, no circumstance, no shared trauma too real or too awesome to keep them apart. With Caitlyn fucking Kiramman sitting beside her, presence warm and familiar, comforting and exciting and hurtling towards some inevitable disaster that only Vi seemed able to foresee.

Vi loved this moment. Right here, right now. This is where she wanted to stay. But just like that…it was gone.

“So what’s your deal?” Jinx was asking Cait. “Rich girl looking for a walk on the wild side? Lookin’ for someone mommy dearest doesn’t approve of? Good job, you found her,” she honked out a laugh.

Vi watched Cait shrink subtly, but not before a glance over at Vi, seeming to take her cues on how to respond to Jinx’s unkindness from Vi’s expression. “My mother actually has a great deal of respect for Vi,” was Cait’s answer, managing not to match Jinx’s combative tone.

“Does she now…” Jinx was smiling again, the dangerous sort that made Vi want to retreat. “Funny how that works, though, right? Vi does all the hard stuff, sings all her stupid songs, does her little dancey-dance…while mommy sits in a fancy office raking it in…probably deposits a few crumbs into your student piggy bank or whatever…and voila! You end up Vi’s meal ticket, even though it’s her money that’s paying for your bullshit couture wardrobe and your stupid manicure that’s gonna get fucked up anyway when you’re inside her later. Isn’t capitalism wacky?”

“OK, OK,” Ekko stepped into his typical role of mitigating force. “I think we need at least one more round before we get into shit like that.”

“You might not believe me, Jinx, but Cait isn’t like that,” Vi found herself saying, barely keeping her venom at bay. “She’s different.”

Jinx looked like she was holding back a laugh, something malicious flashing in her eyes. “You’re right, sis, I don’t believe you. Not this time, with this girl, or the fuckin tens upon hundreds upon thousands that came before her.”

“Powder, why can’t we just—,”

“What? Sweep it under the rug? Forget about it and hope it goes away? No, fuck that. I’m different now, I’m done with that. I changed when you left, Vi. That’s not me, anymore. Your word isn’t the fuckin gospel.”

“I don’t—,” Vi’s hand was clenched tight around her empty glass, eyes slamming closed to shut the world out for a moment. “I’m sorry,” was what she finally landed on. “I’m sorry, god, I—,” she pushed Cait’s hand away before it could rest on her back, Cait somehow noticing the tears in her eyes before Vi did. “You’ll never know how fucking sorry I am, how much I missed you, the hell I’ve been in for 6 years wanting to kill myself over the shit I said to you, the shit I did. Fuck, Powder. I fucked up. I was a kid and I should’a done better and I can’t take it back and I hate that. I do, I really do. But you’ve gotta leave Cait out of it, alright? I can deal with you being pissed off; I deserve it. It’s not Cait’s problem.”

Jinx scoffed, averting her attention from Vi completely, watching a dancer finish her turn on stage instead. “Your funeral, Sis. Hope she gives great head, or whatever. Is that Imagine Dragons?” she changed the subject completely, pointing to the opposite corner of the club. “Ugh, as if! Just because I like that one song doesn’t mean I want to, like, perceive them.”

Vi glanced that direction to confirm it was, indeed, Imagine Dragons before getting up without a word and heading back to the bar for another drink.

Cait caught up with her quickly. “Vi.”

“Save it, please,” Vi didn’t make eye contact.

“I appreciate you saying that,” Cait continued without invitation. “About not deserving her vitriol, I was beginning to think you’d spend the rest of the night refusing to defend me.”

Vi stopped in her tracks. “Excuse me?”

Cait was unfazed. “Your sister has been exceedingly unkind to me, and I assumed you were going to let the behavior continue. So, I appreciate you standing your ground, even if it meant retreating immediately after.”

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“Would be an odd way to phrase a joke, don’t you think?”

Vi’s ears were ringing, jaw tight, fists clenched, fighting to keep her rage from boiling over. “I’ve been defending you all fucking night, where the hell have you been?”

“Your friend zone must be soundproof, then.”

“What?!”

“You never told me you were suicidal.”

“I’m not!”

“So you lied to Jinx just then?”

“No! I—fuck!” Vi turned to the bar. “Can I have a drink, please? Jesus.”

Cait wasn’t done. “You were suicidal, then? Past tense?”

“Yes, goddam it!”

“And that information was too privileged for our friendship?”

“Why do you keep saying that?”

“Just using your terminology, want to make sure we’ve correctly defined the terms of our arrangement.”

“I don’t—we’re not in debate class, Caitlyn. We’re in a fucking strip club with the sister I haven’t seen in 6 years. So, do you think whatever this is could maybe wait?”

“Your sister is an asshole, Violet.”

“You shouldn’t have come.”

“She invited me!”

“It wasn’t a real invitation…”

“I haven’t the patience or mental capacity to be discerning what Jinx perceives as real. I assumed I was coming because you wanted me here, but clearly this night isn’t turning out how either of us hoped it would.”

“No,” Vi admitted, feeling defeated. “This was a mistake, I should’a known Powder—,”

“Jinx.”

“She doesn’t trust people like you. Rich people.”

“She’s rich,” Caitlyn reminded her. “You’re rich.”

“Fine, people who come from money, then. We’ve been fucked over too many times.”

“You truly think my generational wealth is all she’s upset about?” Cait laughed, a hard, almost disbelieving sound. “That she’s essentially called me a whore all night because she’s envious of my private school education?”

“Look, Cait?”

Caitlyn rose up to her full height. “Yes?”

“Go home.”

One could add that to the tally, Vi guessed. Four words, and six words, and then two.

“That, uh…that looked rough,” Ekko said once Vi had returned, settling gingerly back into the booth, eyes downcast. “She headed out?”

“I don’t know,” Vi mumbled, wondering again why she couldn’t stop making mistakes.

“Her royal highness blaming me for all that?” Jinx wanted to know.

“No, it’s—,” yes. “I fucked up earlier. I don’t want to think about it now.”

/

Where Powder had been timid, Jinx was brash. While Powder had been introverted, disappearing into her work, her music, so hesitant to share, so afraid of failure and ridicule, Jinx grasped the spotlight, cocksure and suffocating.

Jinx was funny and charismatic, clever and cruel and wholly off-putting. Sickly sweet at the start with a bitter aftertaste. Vi watched all night as people simultaneously gravitated towards her and were repelled from her, like Jinx had them at the end of some cursed yo-yo.

Only Ekko seemed immune, to her mood swings, her muttering—he kept her close all night long, watching even when she drifted, careful to never correct too harshly.

He loved her, Vi realized. For her faults or in spite of them, Vi wasn’t sure. But there he was, Jinx’s person.

Vi wondered if she realized how he looked at her. Wondered if she clocked the way he scratched the back of his neck when Jinx invaded a stranger’s personal space uninvited, how he smiled when she laughed, relived. Concerned and relieved and stressed and in love and happy. Disturbed. In a loop around and around all night long.

Maybe that’s what Vi had missed—that never ending spiral, cycle to nowhere. Or maybe, if Vi had stayed, if she hadn’t gotten behind that fucking wheel, there’d be no tailspin at all.

“It’s only 8 tracks,” Jinx was saying from where she was perched side-saddle on Ekko’s lap, drink in hand. “Arcane Magic kinda fucked with our publicity, I guess. That’s what Silco said, we were losing traction. So we thought the Powder-Keg reunion would be a good way to get people’s attention, ya know? It’s almost like a surprise album, had to get it out with a bang!”

Vi was too drunk to understand the implications of what Jinx was telling her, too enthralled with the woman dancing on the pole in front of her to process much of anything. Or maybe the drinking was an excuse. Maybe she’d only had two shots and a mixed drink, well below her typical weekend consumption, and maybe she just didn’t want to listen. Maybe she’d wanted that moment to be organic and didn’t want to blame Jinx for pulling the same publicity stunt bullshit Mel did.

“We’re shooting the music video next week, still deciding on the concept but as long as it’s sexy, people don’t really give a shit.”

That’s true.

“If you want a dance, it’s on me,” Jinx offered, holding out a wad of cash. “Call it a guilty conscience.”

A dance wouldn’t hurt, right? Not like Vi could fuck things up any worse tonight.

One more drink, maybe one more drink would help…settle her nerves, clear her mind, escape her body, whatever. She’d prefer to be legitimately drunk before she made her next mistake, made it easier to pretend to forget in the morning. Then she could decide if she wanted a dance—decide against a dance. Decide against a—,

She was looking for the waitress when she saw Caitlyn.

Cait was still here, her Cait, her Cupcake was here and she was sitting…she was sitting in a booth towards the back, nearly sheltered by shadows but there. Here. Definitely. And she wasn’t alone. A woman was with her, gazing at her like…leaning into her how…

Fuck.

Vi got to her feet, moving before she could think better of it. Gait not nearly wobbly enough to pull this kind of bullshit. Completely in control of her mind and actions, goddamn it. Cait didn’t notice her until she was standing right in front of their open booth, and when she did it was with a nonchalant upward glance, head remaining propped on her hand, elbow resting casually against the booth behind her. Calm, cool, collected…the Caitlyn she’d met at the release party before she’d taken her home.

“Are you dense?”

“What are you still doing here?” was the first thing Vi asked, the words feeling clumsy as they left her. Not the right question, not the right emotion—not the right hand on Cait’s thigh. Not the right blush in Cait’s cheeks.

“So sorry, wasn’t aware you owned the club,” Cait countered, blue eyes glazed over with a dreamy haze. Buzzed, but not drunk. Happy, content, obviously having a much better time than Vi was. “She’s never seen the gardens, Vi, can you believe that?”

Vi cringed at how the stranger swooned, looking at Cait like she’d hung the moon, like she was dying to drag her off to the bathroom.

No.

Mine.

“I think we should talk.”

“And I think we talked plenty earlier,” Cait smiled placidly up at her before turning her attention to the stranger. “They’re marvelous,” she seemed to resume the conversation Vi had interrupted. “You really must go in the spring, it’s so terribly romantic, I—,”

Vi held a $100 bill out to the woman. “Somebody else can take you.”

Cait opened her mouth to speak as the woman left, but Vi was on her before she could get a word out, straddling her lap on the bench, marking her territory, a hand resting gently on the side of Cait’s neck—teasing at possessiveness. “I don’t like seeing you with other people.”

“Perhaps you shouldn’t have let your eyes wander, then,” Cait suggested, some attempt at haughty indifference in her tone, though she swallowed at the thumb pressing softly into her windpipe. “You seemed to be enjoying yourself plenty without me.”

“I’m drunk, Cupcake.”

“You’re not.”

“I’m sorry about Jinx,” Vi whispered, trying a different tact. She wasn’t good at apologies. “I met her for the first time tonight, just like you. She’s angrier than Powder, she’s jaded, she—I wanted you to meet Powder. That’s not her.”

“It is, though, Vi.”

“When we performed together, I thought…it seemed like it could be easy. This isn’t gonna be easy, is it?”

Cait shook her head, raising her own hand to place it over Vi’s where it rested on her neck, squeezing cautiously.

Vi watched a flush spread from where her hand was wrapped around her, trailing down Cait’s chest before disappearing into the too-high collar of her shirt. The bruising on her shoulder, neck and chest from when Vi’s mouth had last laid waste to her delicate skin had healed by this point, and Vi felt a twinge of disappointment at the realization.

I should probably fix that…

Lowering her head with hooded eyes, Vi’s mouth found Cait’s neck, running her tongue along the smooth expanse of skin before biting down on the junction between—

Cait grabbed her face, not reverent like before, not with both hands on her cheeks and her dazzling blue eyes shining with affection. This time, she pushed Vi away from her with surprising strength, Vi’s jaw held fast between her thumb and index finger, Cait squeezing hard on the bone to keep her in place. “Do you want me?”

Vi felt a whine fall past her own lips. “Yes.”

Her grip didn’t relinquish. “Well, you can’t have me here. Either take me home or get off my lap.”

Chapter Text

Cait’s grasp around her neck relinquished as her other hand pressed squarely at the center of Vi’s chest, shoving her firmly onto the bed behind her. Cait wasted no time in following her, pinning Vi down by her shoulder and climbing over her, thighs bracketing Vi’s waist, rucking up her own skirt to grind down on the firm stomach beneath her.

“Fuck, Cupcake, you’re hot when you know what you want,” Vi groaned out between clenched teeth.

“I want your mouth on me,” was Cait’s response, voice devoid of that breathy quality Vi was used to in these situations.

“Alright, say less,” Vi grinned, grabbing onto Cait’s hips to flip their positions, but suddenly her hands were back on the bed, held there by Cait’s, her entire bodyweight pressing her wrists into the mattress. When Vi looked up, brain in the midst of some lust-delayed calculation, Cait released one wrist to grab her by the jaw again, leaning down and yanking Vi upwards so they met somewhere in the middle. Cait’s lips and teeth and tongue were unforgiving, forceful and wanting and possessive.

Caitlyn bit down on Vi’s lower lip, pulling back harshly as she ended the kiss, Vi whimpering in response to the pain that was new but definitely, uh, hot.

“So, I’m in trouble, then?” Vi wondered, playfully, tongue running over the new bruise on her lip.

“I’m owed an apology,” Caitlyn’s tone was not playful. “I didn’t appreciate your behavior earlier.”

“Look, Cupcake, I’m—,”

“Hush,” Cait’s fingers squeezed harder. “Tonight, you’ll fuck me until I’m satisfied. We can revisit your empty platitudes in the morning.”

Vi swallowed. “Yes, ma’am?”

Cait rolled her eyes, finally releasing Vi’s face and wasting no time in walking forward on her knees until she hovered over Vi’s mouth, Vi licking her lips before she could even fully process Caitlyn was about to ride her face.

Fuck.

She stared up at the damp spot on the panties above her, reaching up to gently move them aside.

“Rip them.”

“What?”

“I said, rip them,” Cait repeated slower, glaring down at her, pupils blown wide with lust. “This isn’t going to work if you can’t listen, Violet.”

“No, I can—I can listen,” Vi sounded stupid. Dumb and tongue tied and—what the fuck is going on? She brought her other hand up to the waistband of Cait’s panties beneath her skirt, puncturing the delicate fabric with both index fingers and tearing from there.

Cait forced a sharp exhale out of her nose, eyes closing, teeth biting down on her lower lip. “Good,” she decided, sounding satisfied as she grabbed hold of the headboard.

Vi took her cue, opening her mouth and waiting somewhat impatiently as Cait lowered herself down onto it, her tongue pressed flat and firm on her plump lower lip, letting Cait drag herself across it, senses all at once filled with the taste and scent she’d already come to crave.

Above her, Cait’s fingers clenched tighter on the headboard, strangling her moan like she didn’t want to give Vi the satisfaction. It didn’t take long for Cait to start moving her hips in earnest, lithe stomach muscles flexing at the apex of each thrust. Vi reached around her thighs and beneath her skirt to grab her ass with strong, greedy fingers, encouraging Cait to quicken her place, forcing her down harder onto her jaw, suddenly overwhelmed with want. Wanting Cait to use her—her mouth, her lips, her tongue. To smear herself on her jaw, to feel it drip down Vi’s neck, her throat—,

I’m sorry, Vi said in the only way she knew how.

I’m sorry, as her tongue plunged inside of her.

I’m sorry, as Cait’s movements became sloppier, hips lose and insistent.

I’m sorry, as her hands moved to Cait’s thighs, holding her in place despite how Cait whined in protest, eyes wild and desperate for release. This is how you get there. She alternated tight circles around Cait’s clit with strong suction until her thighs clamped down hard over her ears, arousal flooding Vi’s mouth, groans spilling from both of them, Vi’s muffled into Cait’s silken folds, Cait’s into the palm she’d clamped over her own mouth.

Vi was quickly running out of oxygen in the moments before Cait came back to herself, but she decided there were worse ways to go. She’d contemplated most of them by this point in her life.

With a deep, shaky breath, Caitlyn finally lifted off of her, swiveling with one knee to kneel beside her as Vi’s chest heaved to catch up on all the breathing she’d missed.

“Are you alright?” Cait asked, quietly, not quite meeting Vi’s eyes.

Vi nodded. “Death by Cupcake is kind’ve the ideal—,”

“Go get the strap-on,” Cait cut her off, hands folded neatly in front of her, the nod all she needed, evidently. “I want you inside of me. Now, please.” Her instructions were forceful, but also gentle and nearly self-conscious in a way that would have made Vi giggle if she felt like Cait was in any mood to be teased.

But she’d kind’ve burned that bridge earlier.

So Vi rose from the bed, deciding not to look a gift horse in the mouth, or whatever that saying was. “Which one did you want?” she asked as she opened the drawer that laid out the options.

“I don’t know, Vi, the friendship cock,” Cait snapped.

Vi stiffened at the harsh tone, but shivered hearing that word in Cait’s perfectly lovely, perfectly polished accent.

Why does she have to be so hot? Vi massaged her temples, pointedly ignoring the nearly painful ache beneath her now soaked pants and briefs she had yet to take off.

She selected the harness and “friendship cock”, a slightly larger one than she’d used on Cait in the kitchen, feeling like the situation called for something a little more invasive to help distract them from the room of elephants they were choosing to ignore.

Vi dropped her pants and began to peel her briefs away before Cait stopped her.

“Leave those.”

“They’re kinda ruined, Cupcake,” Vi chuckled.

Cait flushed, though she managed to keep her tone even when she said, “Good.”

Vi flushed too, the two of them staring at each other for a moment, their silence heavy with things left unsaid. Quiet remorse and deafening desire.

“I’m—I’m waiting,” Caitlyn reminded her, watching intently as Vi nodded, tightening the harness over her underwear. “That one new?”

“To you.”

“But not to the 14 others.”

“I don’t remember,” Vi was honest.

“I don’t care,” Cait was less-so.

Vi took one more moment to gaze at Cait where she was still kneeling expectantly, politely on the bed. Perfect posture, shoulders back, chest out, hands still clasped in front of her. As Vi watched, Cait shifted to unzip her skirt, wriggling out of it and leaving her in only a lacy lilac bra, the same color as the panties Vi had ripped off her. A matching set meant for unwrapping. A matching set Cait had picked out for this night specifically. The one that hadn’t gone to plan.

Oh.

She’d been excited for the concert. Excited to watch Vi perform from the catalogue she’d obsessed over, excited to meet Vi’s sister.

Vi’s only remaining family. Caitlyn had been looking forward to meeting Vi’s family.

She’d worn a skirt— “Not that I don’t love your ass in jeans, but skirts make this so much easier—,” Vi lifted Cait onto her kitchen counter, Cait gasping as Vi forced her thighs apart.

A tank top— “Your shoulders are so pretty…” Vi’s finger traced languidly from her neck down to the cap of her deltoid. “My mother once told me shooting was making them too broad,” Cait closed her eyes. “As far as stuck up milfs go, your mom isn’t too bad, but that’s a stupid thing to say. They’re strong, Cupcake, nothing wrong with that.”

And a matching set of lilac lingerie— “I think you should just stop wearing this shit altogether,” Vi said around the fabric in her teeth, inching the lace panties down Cait’s legs. “I like watching you ruin them,” Cait breathed.

Cait was reaching out to take her hand, pulling Vi back onto the bed with her and encouraging her to lay down again. Vi obeyed, head falling back onto the soft pillow, fighting the sudden nausea in her gut at the realization of how much of a fucking disappointment she was.

“She’s a friend.”

Vi’s eyes slammed shut.

“Vi?”

“Mhm?”

“I want you inside of me.”

She forced her eyes to open, forced herself to find Cait’s, gray meeting blue, Cait’s gaze sharp and heavy and searching.

“Can you give me that? Just for tonight?”

Vi grabbed her in response, pressing her thumbs into the hollows of Cait’s hips, encouraging her to grind down on the dildo between them. “Whatever you want, Cupcake.”

“Well, not whatever I want, right?” there was something wounded in Cait’s tone. “But this. You’ll give me this, as much as I’d like. Until I’m satisfied, won’t you?”

Vi nodded silently, biting her lip, again fighting to ignore the ache beneath where Cait was grinding, spreading her wetness up and down the length of the toy. “Yeah, you can—,”

“Spit into my hand,” she held it out beneath Vi’s mouth which dropped to gape stupidly.

Vi was sweating now, completely red faced and she hadn’t been touched a single time. Cait’s eyes told her not to question the request, so she didn’t, spitting into Cait’s waiting hand, the excess dribbling down her chin.

“Very good,” Cait praised, completely flushed herself now, lowering that hand between them and slathering the dildo in Vi’s saliva, working her hand up and down the shaft.

OK, alright, Vi was pretty sure she was going to have a heart attack and her death certificate would formally read “died by horny”. Her hips bucked up into Cait’s hand, eyes rolling back at the slight pressure on her clit every time she pressed the base of the toy down into her groin. “Please, Cait, let me fuck you I want to fuck you.”

Cait choked back a whimper at Vi’s begging, clearly not expecting it…honestly, Vi hadn’t expected it either. She was pretty sure she’d never begged anyone like that before.

This is getting out of hand, this is too much.

“Please, Caitlyn,” she couldn’t stop now. “Sit on my cock, I wanna—please.”

Cait seemed in no headspace to refuse such a request, grabbing the dildo firmly now and aligning the head with her dripping center, easing herself down onto the shaft, the two of them whining in unison. Cait at the sensation, Vi at the visual and then the pressure on her clit when Cait bottomed out, sitting flush against Vi’s groin, taking a moment to adjust. When Vi noticed Cait subtly wince at the size, she began to push her off of it, but Cait stopped her with a hand around Vi’s neck and a shake of her head.

She started slow, little twitches and grinding circles until she’d stretched enough to push herself up and sink halfway back down, keeping that rhythm until Vi couldn’t take it anymore, until she drove her hips upwards into Caitlyn, meeting her halfway, one hand wrapping around the wrist at her own neck, the other grabbing roughly at Cait’s ass.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

Caitlyn had said “fuck” more times tonight than in the nearly three months they’d known each other, and it made Vi want to flip their positions and fuck her raw, until she screamed, until her throat grew hoarse from begging for more, harder—,

But this was supposed to be an apology, right?

Cait was moving faster now, fingers squeezing harder around Vi’s throat, taking more and more, stretching, accommodating, demanding everything, all of it—whimpering when Vi thrust upwards, hard and solid and filling.

When Vi tapped her wrist, Cait let go of her throat, recognizing the signal immediately and placing her hands on the bed behind her instead, sitting down hard, harder with each thrust, stomach rippling, tensing as she leaned back, lifting her knees and rocking forward on the balls of her feet as Vi watched the toy bend, press and disappear with each drop of her hips.  

“Come for me, baby,” Vi begged as she felt Cait tighten around the shaft, sweat beading down her forehead, picturesque and erotic in the soft glow of the overhead lights, dimmed to Vi’s exact specifications.

“Don’t call me that unless you mean it,” Cait seethed (pleaded). “I do give great head, you—,”

“What?”

“Make me come, Vi, I need you to make me come.”

Orders clear, Vi did flip their positions, pinning Cait’s knees to her ears and driving the rubber cock into her, Vi’s own pleasure mounting, rubbing hard at Cait’s clit until—

The moisture wasn’t a surprise, the spraying was. Squirting. Goddamn.

Cait screamed like it took something from her. Moaned, writhed, twitched.

Vi gritted her teeth as her own orgasm overtook her, hips still bucking into Cait of their own accord, drawing out Cait’s pleasure while toeing the line of overstimulation…until they toppled over that and Caitlyn pushed her away, tears in her eyes.

These tears Vi had seen before. These tears she could navigate.

With a watery smile of her own, she raised a gentle thumb to wipe them away, pressing soft kisses to the moist skin. “Is now a good time to gloat about making you squirt?”

“I’ve never—your sheets, I’m so—,”

“No, no! Shh,” Vi silenced her with a kiss. “I have a million sheets, that was so fucking hot, Cupcake. Don’t apologize. You wanna take a shower before you pass out?”

“It will have to be a bath, and you’ll have to carry me, I’m certain my legs are no longer functional.”

“Literally the reason I lift, it’s no sweat.”

“I do give good head,” Cait repeated, words slurring slightly, beginning to lose her grip on the waking world.

/

Vi woke up to an awful, intrusive chiming that nearly sent her cellphone hurtling towards the wall like her alarm clock before it.

“That sound needs to stop immediately,” Caitlyn groaned from beside her, the only time Vi had ever heard her with a true morning voice.

Vi grabbed blindly for her phone to dismiss the notification, accidently knocking it on the floor. The chiming didn’t stop.

“Violet!”

“OK, OK!” Vi dragged herself upright, picking the phone up and seeing it was nearly 10 in the morning. The notification was for the front gate, motion had been detected outside. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, Vi enabled the front gate camera…and nearly dropped her phone again at the sight of Mel’s face literally inches from it.

The other notifications were missed calls, she realized.

From Mel. A few from Jayce, one from Cassandra…but mostly from Mel.

Fuck.

She buzzed her in.

“My head feels as though it spent the night in a cement mixer,” Cait complained, sleeping on her stomach, the two of them naked, having not bothered to re-dress after the bath.

“You’re probably dehydrated,” Vi told her, preemptively unlocking the front door for Mel as well. “Expelled a lot of—,”

“If you say ‘fluids’ I will smack you, that’s a promise.”

“Sorry,” Vi bit her lip to stifle a laugh, trudging to her closet for a flannel and a fresh pair of boxers, tossing Cait a t-shirt and a pair of sweats that make adorable high waters. Cait ignored them, her face remaining pressed into the pillow. “Here,” Vi reached into the mini fridge she had in her bedroom for nearly this exact occasion, twisting the cap on a bottle of water and setting it on the table beside the bed. “I’ll grab you some painkillers from the kitchen.”

Mel was just stepping through the front door when Vi located the right pill bottle. “Morning,” Vi greeted. “We break the internet with the Powder-Keg reunion?”

“A strip club, Vi?!”

Oh, Jesus.

She turned without a word, heading back towards the bedroom, pill bottle in hand, Mel in tow.

“Whose idea was that?!

“Not mine!” Vi shot back over her shoulder. “Jayce was sitting right there when Jinx suggested it, take it out on your dumbass boyfriend.”

Caitlyn was sitting up in bed when Vi returned, looking very much out of it and very much…still naked.

“Here you go, Cupcake,” Vi placed the water and pill bottle in her hand, Mel rounding the corner and crossing the threshold before Cait could react.

“Oh!” Mel startled backwards, hand immediately shielding her eyes. “Oh, Caitlyn, I’m—I didn’t know you—so sorry to intrude!”

Cait scrambled to pull the sheet over her chest. “Clearly not that sorry!”

“I did try giving Vi a heads up,” Mel defended herself. “I must have called her 15 times.”

“OK, well, I was busy.”

“Clearly.”

Cait emptied 3 pills into her palm and swallowed, gulping down nearly half the bottle of water on the first swig.

Mel took a deep breath, preparing to explain herself. “When I went to bed last night, my twitter, Instagram and news feeds were flooded with joyful shaky cam footage of the Powder-Keg reunion, just as we had hoped. You were trending on nearly all platforms, as was Jinx and we saw a significant streaming uptick in first the Powder-Keg catalogue and then Arcane Magic.”

“I’m sensing a but,” Cait grumbled, pulling on the t-shirt Vi had tossed her.

“Wonderful context clues, Ms. Kiramman,” Mel drawled, taking her phone out of her handbag and unlocking the screen, flipping it around to show them. “Please tell me why this is the headline I woke up to?”

The article was titled “Powder-Keg’s Explosive Night”

“That’s cheap,” Cait mumbled.

Vi squinted at the screen as Mel scrolled down, the article featuring a variety of pictures from their night…starting on stage with Jinx and Ekko and ending with Vi in Caitlyn’s lap at the strip club.

“What happened to your wholesome reunion, Vi? What happened to Love Myself?!”

“That song’s about getting yourself off, Mel!”

“Middle Piltover doesn’t know that! Why on Runeterra did you bring your little sister to a strip club?!”

“I didn’t! She brought me to a strip club!”

“She used this,” Mel shook the phone in Vi’s face. “To announce her new album.”

“Yeah, I know,” Vi plopped back down on the bed. “Thought you’d be impressed, kind’ve took a play out of your book.”

“She’s stomping all over your collaboration with Ekko, we were supposed to release that this week.”

Vi laughed. “Mel, Silco has been giving free billing to a Kiramman Records artist since Jinx and Ekko started hooking up. Did you think he was just gonna take it? No, he was always gonna retaliate. He owns Powder-Keg, he owns Jinx, and he’d really love to still own me. I don’t know what the point of the strip club thing was, if that was actually Jinx’s suggestion or if this stupid article ties into some master plan bullshit, but for all the ways he could’ve played us, we got off easy, I promise.”

“Alright, well,” Cait broke the silence that followed Vi’s speech, reaching over the side of the bed to retrieve the skirt she’d discarded the night before, pulling it on beneath the covers and tucking the hem of Vi’s “Sumprat Boxing” t-shirt into the waist band. “I have study group at noon, so I should really be going,” she stood.

Vi blinked. “I thought we were gonna talk.”

“I see no reason for that,” Cait stepped into her heels, refusing to make eye contact. “I’ve fallen madly in love with you, and after last night, it seems that’s both inconvenient and unrequited. So, if you’ll excuse me, I’m sure my mother would like to yell at me for being pictured in a strip club with a popstar on my lap.”

Chapter Text

Tires screeched on wet asphalt, the turn coming too quickly, steering wheel held fast in two small, unshaking hands. She wasn’t going to turn. She wasn’t going to—

“Powder!”

Vi lurched out of bed at the moment of impact, sweat soaking her tank top, grafting the fabric to her body. She shook with uncontrollable tremors, teeth chattering, freezing cold and burning up all at once.

Oil on her skin, a fire raging behind them. Her hands on Powder’s face, harsh, unkind, unforgiving.

“You’re a jinx!"

Vi gulped at the air, it felt dense in her lungs, heavy, unhelpful. Moist and oppressive and—,

“Please don’t leave me I don’t wanna go without you, please,” sobbing, spitting, scared. “Vi, please, I can’t get them to stop I don’t wanna be here, I—,”

Vi’s hand stung from the force of it, the horror of it, the smack echoing down the empty highway.  

“Stop,” Vi said aloud, calming her tremors, forcing her breath in through her nose and out from her mouth, tight…controlled… “Stop.”

She spotted her phone on the bedside table, reaching quicky to unplug it from her charger, desperate for something else to focus on, something else to regret as she keyed in her passcode and—,

Nothing. Still, nothing. Day-fuckin-eight of basically radio silence.

To: Cupcake

9/2, 1:57pm

Ur in love with me?

2:23pm

Can we please talk after ur done studying?

5:11pm

Called Jayce and he said ur phone is working just fine…so…u just gonna ghost me or what?

9/3, 9:14am

Can we get some coffee or something?

10:43am

K, maybe lunch?

3:21pm

That was messed up what Jinx said to u. u DO give great head, Cupcake.

10:39pm

Fuck I really miss u

11:03pm

Can u come over? I’m lonely

11:52pm

Can’t stop thinking about you, I need you

12:22am

I can come to u

9/4, 4:31pm

Cupcake missed your call

7:17pm

Cupcake missed your video chat

9/5, 6:59pm

Saw Jinx again today, she asked about you. Seems like she was in a weird spot the other night, kindve apologized.

A reply. One. Blessed reply.

From: Cupcake; 7:01pm

“Kind’ve” apologized?                        

To: Cupcake; 7:01pm

Her mind doesn’t work like ours; she doesn’t always say the right thing or mean what she says

From: Cupcake; 7:08pm

Would seem that’s a genetic issue

To: Cupcake; 7:09pm

Can I see u?

8:19pm

So it’s like that, huh?

12:41am

I wanna taste u

9/7, 5:27am

Seriously? You’re not even gonna give me a chance to apologize?

9/8, 2:13pm

K, guess I’ll take the hint

9/9, 1:32am

Cute pic on “insta” *jayce voice*

1:55am

Who’s the girl in it? didn’t see her in your other pics

1:59am

She in ur study group?

2:02am

Imma little drunk I’m sorry

Vi re-read the message thread until she couldn’t anymore, closing her eyes and shaking her head, hoping it would have some sort’ve Etch A Sketch effect on her memory.

Hypothesis failed. Memories remained. Embarrassment, shame, self-loathing. All of it.

Fuck!

She peeled off her shirt, tossing it haphazardly in the corner of her increasingly messy bedroom. Her briefs came off next and she stepped into a scalding shower, the water hot enough to distract her with pain for just a moment, until her skin adjusted, and the outside world crept back in.

For all Cait’s supposed intelligence, she could sure be a fucking idiot. Falling in love with her? Madly in love with her?? Vi? The human being, not the Popstar?

Idiot.

Stupid, beautiful, sexy, naïve, breathtaking, brilliant, empathetic idiot.

Vi wasn’t super proud of the wank that came after, but she couldn’t remember the last time she’d gone 8 days without touching someone. Like, anyone. And how else was she supposed to distract herself from the trauma and the nightmares and the anxiety and the unrelenting, unforgiving loneliness.

“Idiot,” Vi mumbled once she’d finished, the image of Cait on all fours, stuffed full, looking back at Vi with something approaching wonder in her expression, bottom lip held fast between imperfect teeth, cheeks flushed, back arched and—done, gone, over. Dissipating.

She’d never doubted even for a moment that she’d ruin this thing they had. That Vi would be the one to break it, smash it, crush it, dash it against the rocks of some metaphorical shore that Vi would never be able to write about because she was good at singing and finding a rhythm and getting pretty girls to fall in love with her and that was it. That was all.

So why did this hurt so bad? If it was inevitable, why did it make Vi want to tear her skin off and her heart out and her likeness off every bedroom wall?

Vi shut the water off with too much strength, nearly taking the handle with her, barely drying herself before changing into her gym clothes.

Maybe her heavy bag would have some answers.

/

“You good?” Ekko adjusted his earpiece, loitering near the drum set as they waited for their cue.

Vi spun the sticks in her hands, restless. “Never better.”

“You wanna get fucked up after this?”

“Absolutely.”

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the host began, pointing the camera and audience in their direction. “Ekko.”

Vi pulled her hood tighter over her ears, settling down on her stool, waiting her turn.

“I do the same thing I told you that I never would / told you I’d change, even when I knew I never could—,”

Ekko began, his overalls held up by one strap, leaning back on his heels, one hand holding the microphone to his lips, the other pointing out at the audience.  

“—Know that I can’t find nobody else as good as you/ I need you to stay, need you to stay—,”

Vi brought the drums in, relaxing into a simple kick-snare combination.

Ekko bounced to the rhythm, hand on his bare chest now. “I get drunk, wake up, I’m wasted still / I realize the time that I wasted here / I feel like you can’t feel the way I feel / oh I’ll be fucked up if you can’t be right here—,”

Vi added an extra kick to the rhythm, both sticks hitting the snare.

“I do the same thing I told you that I never would—,”

Ekko let himself be taken by the chorus, his vocals never wavering, head banging, a ball of pure energy that Vi wanted to bask in, that Vi was envious of.

She switched to the high hat, her hands moving of their own accord, keeping perfect time, never a question in her music, in her muscles as she grinned, losing some of the emptiness she’d been wallowing in, if only for a moment.

“—I need you to stay, need you to stay, hey—,”

Vi vaulted over the drum set, her replacement filing in seamlessly behind her, dropping her hood and pulling her headset around to her mouth as she landed—that had only worked once in rehearsals.

They’d been counting on the audience not realizing it was Vi on the drums, and from the scream she was greeted with, it seemed the reveal had gone exactly to plan.

She smiled through her opening lines. “When I’m away from you, I miss your touch / you’re the reason I believe in love / it’s been difficult for me to trust / and I’m afraid that imma fuck it up—,” Vi slid on her knees to the front of the stage. “Ain’t no way that I can leave you stranded / cause I ain’t never left you empty-handed—,” Ekko closed his eyes as she sang, jumping to the rhythm, one foot to the other. “And you know that I know that I can’t live without you—,” Vi leapt back to her feet, joining Ekko as they neared the chorus, “So baby stay.”

He grabbed her by the heel of her palm as they sang together, easily finding their harmony, looking at Vi with eyes that said, Live in this. Be here, right now.

And so Vi did, forgetting her envy and letting Ekko’s energy inspire her instead, wash over her, lift her up out of that dark hole she’d found herself in again, their sneakers squeaking on the floor, adding character and imperfection. The good vibes Ekko had promised on the day they’d recorded it.

“—I need you to stay, I need you to stay, hey.”

/

Vi’s leg tapped anxiously in the backseat, hand clenched tight around her cellphone.

She’d received the text nearly two hours into a workout that she was planning to make indefinite.

From: Mel; 11:43am

I need everyone in my office in an hour. Attendance is non-negotiable.

It was a group text, so Vi could see Jayce, Cassandra and…Caitlyn, had also received the message.

Only Jayce had responded to the thread, a tan ‘thumps up’ emoji that Vi instantly rolled her eyes at. Kiramman Records headquarters was a 45-minute drive from Vi’s house, so she really didn’t have time for a shower or to change, exactly, but as her destination neared, she was regretting not making the time.

An old Powder-Keg tour t-shirt she’d cut into a tank top, bloody knuckles and a pair of sweat-stained gray joggers was not the outfit Vi had planned to wear to she and Cait’s overdue reunion. But that text from Mel had made her nervous. She’d been on edge since the whole ‘explosive night’ debacle and Vi was trying her best to avoid spending more time on her bad side.

Jayce was waiting in Mel’s office when Vi arrived. He sat on the couch, one leg crossed over the other, hands clasped over his knee while Mel stood by her picture window, gazing (as she was prone to do) out at Piltover’s gold-tipped skyline.

“You made it,” Jayce greeted, something nervous in his tone, his body language, hello missing its usual ‘hey, there!’

“Um, yeah, I know what non-negotiable means.”

Mel was looking back at her now. “I see you’ve been boxing without your gloves again.”

“Yeah, sorry, I—,” wanted to feel it, I guess. “Sorry. I’ll get them cleaned up.”

“I take it Caitlyn hasn’t responded to you yet?”

Vi pursed her lips in lieu of answering. Mel got the message.

“This should be fun, then. Have you been on Youtube yet today?”

“Uh—no.”

“Wonderful.”

“Did you apologize?” Jayce asked.

Vi raised an eyebrow. “To Cait? Yeah, I think so.”

Mel and Jayce both frowned at this. “You think so?” Mel was the one to attempt to clarify.

Vi was suddenly self-conscious. “Yes? I mean, I’ve been texting her…”

“Texting her apologies?” Jayce wondered.

“Um…”

“Oh, Jesus,” Mel covered her face with one hand. “Have you said the words I’m sorry, Violet?”

“I don’t remember.”

“Have you told her you missed her?”

“I think so?”

“Have you told her you missed her pussy or something else terribly crude when you should have been sleeping?”

“…just like twice, maybe.”

Mel turned back around.

“If you need help figuring out what to say, Mel and I are right here,” Jayce had a little more patience to spare. “We’d be happy to workshop something with you before she gets here. I’ve known Cait for a long time, I’m sure I could convince her to give you a second chance. Oh, I know!” he snapped his fingers like a cartoon lightbulb had just appeared over his head. “She loves your music, and you have the perfect apology track on the album already!”

“She does not have the perfect apology track on her album,” Mel disagreed rather strongly. “You will under no circumstances send her the lyrics to a song called ‘Sorry’, Vi, do you understand me?”

“Why not?” it was Jayce asking. “It’s a great song! Very catchy.”

“Apologies aren’t meant to be catchy,” Mel explained to Jayce and Vi like she was a pre-school teacher. “You need to have an open conversation with her in which you’re also honest with yourself, Vi. Your martyr complex isn’t doing you or her any favors, and although your fuckboi motif is marketable, it is stealing from you, Vi. It’s very much eclipsing your potential as a human being.”

“I don’t appreciate being summoned in my own building,” Cassandra said as she entered, paying zero mind to the conversation she was interrupting. “What’s this about, Ms. Medarda?”

“Cassandra, thank you so much for—,”

Vi tuned the rest out when she noticed Cait standing hesitantly in the doorway, hands clasped anxiously in front of her middle, eyes downcast…until she saw Vi. Suddenly, her head was held high, shoulders thrown back, hands balled at her sides.

“Cait, I—,”

“I washed your t-shirt,” were the first words out of her mouth. “I would have brought it, but I came straight from class. I’ll give it to Jayce to make sure it gets back to you.”

“Cait—,” Vi tried again, not exactly remembering whose advice she was supposed to take. Mel’s seemed right, but Jayce’s seemed easier. “Is it too late to say sorry? Because I’m…missing more than just your body.”

“My goodness, young people are so embarrassing,” Cassandra shook her head, sitting down next to Jayce on the couch.

“Vi, please tell me you did not just quote your own song at me,” Cait begged, burying her face in her hands. “And in front of my mother.”

“I know that I let you down…is it too late to say sorry…now?” why was Vi still talking.

“That’s my bad,” Jayce offered. “That ones on me. It sounds way more romantic when you sing it.”

“Please don’t sing it!” Cait sounded legitimately terrified.

“Everyone, please, eyes on me,” Mel urged, taking charge. “I did not bring you all here to watch Vi embarrass herself, although she seems hell bent on doing that anyway. At 10am today, Jinx released the music video for her lead-single Slumber Party. Has anyone had the chance to watch it?”

Everyone shook their heads, Cassandra offering a, “Not quiet my cup of tea.”

“Well, that would explain the lack of panic attack from anyone in this room.” Mel took out her cellphone, casting the video to the flat screen mounted on her office wall. “Please hold your questions until after the viewing, I’m sure we’ll all be equally disturbed.”

It began with a pulsing instrumental, the setting revealing itself to be…a strip club, naturally. Jinx sat in a plush chair by the stage, legs spread, posture confident, commanding, authoritative.

The opening lines were delivered straight to the camera.

“I’m not shy, Ill say it / I’ve been picturing you naked / I’m a little faded, you look like a fuckin painting—”

The camera swung, pulled out, revealed Jinx had been watching a dancer spin gracefully down the pole at center stage.

“—Big doe eyes, amazing / she’s everything I’ve been praying / my heart palpitation /she looks like the type to break it”

The dancer stepped off stage, approaching Jinx, seduction in her stride. She was tall—the dancer, the model, whatever she was. Slender, but, uh…shapely. She had assets, basically. Her hair was jet black and—

“Me and your girlfriend playing dress up at my house—,”

Her face was revealed when she sunk down on Jinx’s lap, one knee at a time.

“—I gave your girlfriend cunnilingus on my couch—"

The likeness wasn’t exact, obviously, but similar enough that everyone in the room seemed to recognize it at once, inspiring a collective gasp. Vi found the real Cait’s face had drained of all color, her posture stiff, mouth agape.

“—she cute, kawaii, hentai boobies that excites me—,”

Jinx gave the Cait look-alike’s bust a possessive squeeze.

“—I think she really likes me, asked politely can I—,”

Vi felt frozen, extreme discomfort battling a punishingly morbid curiosity, eyes glued to the screen as the trainwreck unfolded before her.

“—Slumber party—,”

They’d moved to a couch by the last verse, strippers dancing around them as Jinx stared down the camera once more, performing a sort of reverse-cowgirl style lap dance on the Cait look-alike.

“My girl looks look like Wednesday Adams / Eyes go black when she orgasms / hide your back, she likes to stab them / my buttcheeks, she likes to grab—,”

She winked, playfully biting her lip as she spun, straddling the woman’s lap now, the camera angle seeming to pointedly recreate the picture of Vi and Cait at Babette’s.

“—matching pajama birthday suits / her spit tastes just like juicy fruit—,”

Jinx sank down between the woman’s knees, hands fanning out on her upper thighs, spreading her legs.

“—she do that thing she usually do / spell my name with her tongue, like—,”

There was a hard cut to an upward angle of the woman’s face, contorted in a simulation of rapturous pleasure.

“—Slumber party…I’m shy….”

Jinx lolled her head against the woman’s thigh, shaping her hand into a gun to point at the camera.

“I’m so shy…” there was a gunshot sound effect when she mimed pulling the trigger and then she laughed maniacally, the video cutting to black as the credits played.

The room was completely silent for a good 30 seconds after the video ended, everyone processing in their own time, tongue tied or shell shocked or something in between.

 In the end, it was Cait who offered the first coherent response.

“What the fuck was that?”

Chapter Text

“Wait, Caitlyn—Cupcake, hold on,” Vi chased her when she stormed out of the office, Mel, Jayce and Cassandra watching them go.

Caitlyn looked like she’d seen her own ghost, like she was suddenly realizing she didn’t belong on this plane of existence. “Hey, hey, hey, take a deep breath,” Vi squeezed her balled fists, trying to drag Cait’s attention away from whatever downward spiral she was dipping her toe into. “That sucked, baby, that was really fucked up. Look at me, OK? I’m so sorry, will you look at me?”

Cait’s eyes finally found Vi’s, their blue losing the vacuous quality of a few moments ago, something bright and sharp and angry seeping into the crevices. “Your sister is deranged,” she hissed through clenched teeth.

“She’s not…” Vi wasn’t sure where the hurt came from. She knew whose side of this issue she should be on, and yet—, “She’s not deranged, Cait, she’s—,”

“Violet, if you say misunderstood, I’m leaving this building and won’t be back.”

“I was—she’s messed up, Cait,” Vi said instead. “You don’t know her like I do. You don’t know the shit she’s been through.”

“She won’t let me know her!” this was Cait’s impression of an explosion, Vi realized. Just like in the club that night, but this time in an empty corporate hallway, without the cover of pulsing music and the excuse of too much (not enough) alcohol. “She’s stuck, Vi! She’s still 15 years old, living in a grown woman’s body, living a grown woman’s life with absolutely none of the emotional maturity that should come with growing up.”

“I know,” Vi was quiet.

Cait wasn’t done. “Whatever happened that night, in your car…it hasn’t let you go, either of you. And rather than dealing with it, you’re both choosing to take it out on me,” there were tears in her eyes now. “What did I ever do to you, Vi? Why do I have to be her punching bag?”

Vi’s chest hurt, pinching with grief and rage and that complicated thing in between that felt hopeless. “I break things, Cupcake. We do, me and her. Mostly people. I don’t know—I don’t think I can stop. I know she can’t, she’s not…I don’t think she’s OK.”

“She simulated oral sex on me in a viral video,” Cait reminded her. “Of course she’s not OK.”

“She wanted to hurt me.”

“And I’m, what? Collateral damage? My life, my image, my reputation. My career, probably? All the spoils of Jinx’s—,”

Without warning, Vi reached out and took Cait’s hands again, squeezing hard this time, needing to escape that hopeless feeling, needing to fix this, put it all back together, unable to stand the hurt in Cait’s voice any longer. “This is my fault. It’s all my fault. We’re gonna figure this out, OK? Mel’s gonna have a plan and it’ll be fine. You’ll be fine and then you won’t need me anymore, and you’ll be safe.”

Vi wasn’t actually looking at her, more through her, so when Cait spoke, she didn’t notice how she’d softened. “What happened, Vi?”

“I don’t know,” Vi wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, not realizing tears had gathered in them the same as in Cait’s. “She seemed OK when I talked to her the other day, she seemed better. Stable. I don’t—,”

“In the car, Vi.”

There was a hand on Vi’s cheek now, thumb brushing the scar that marred her upper lip like it was a touch stone, a comforting thing. Like Cait had missed the feel of it below her fingers.

“That’s over now.”

Cait shook her head. “It’s not, though. You’re stuck too, Violet.”

“Caitlyn,” Cassandra interrupted from where she stood, stoic in the open doorway to Mel’s office, the hands clasped in front of her the only tell that not all was right. Hands just like Cait’s. “Vi, we need to come up with a strategy. Will you join us back inside?”

Vi felt one more searching look, Cait’s eyes passing over her with concern and sympathy and something probably best described as heartbreak before her hand pulled back, leaving Vi with a phantom touch that almost stung. She returned to the meeting in somewhat of a daze, unable to dissipate her nervous energy enough to sit down. Instead, she stood protectively by the chair Caitlyn had chosen for herself, arms crossed over her chest, expression sullen.

Mel’s eyes danced between them in something like a question, though it was one she seemed to already know the answer to. “Believe it or not,” she began, not insulting Cait’s intelligence with excuse or preamble. “This could be a positive opportunity for us moving forward, as long as our response is measured and effective.”

“I assume you’ll be releasing a statement on my behalf,” Caitlyn sounded bitter.

“No,” Mel shook her head. “A statement would be far too mature. Instead, we’ll be taking the fight to Jinx. Well, partially. Vi, are you listening?”

Vi blinked. She’d been listening, right?

“What I’m about to ask will likely cause some discomfort for the two of you, but Cassandra, Jayce and I have discussed, and we agree it’s the best path forward,” Mel prefaced, satisfied with Vi’s attention now. “Firstly, we’ll need to beat Jinx at her own game. Break the internet, take over social media. We’ll be coy and clever and never address her directly. A direct response is what she wants, but if we give her that…”

“She’ll make fun of us,” Vi mumbled.

“She’ll make fun of us,” Mel confirmed. “Because she’s Gen Z and she’s teflon and she truly doesn’t care about the messes she makes. Jinx doesn’t have to clean those up, daddy takes care of them for her.”

“Silco is not her father,” Vi spat.

“I’m sorry, Vi, but now’s simply not the time for that distinction,” Mel didn’t sound all that sorry. “On social media, we’ll be petty. In the mainstream media, we’ll need to ratchet up your domesticity. You’ll be on every magazine cover, the lead story on every gossip site. Pictured around town, leaving clubs, restaurants, sitting down to dinner with the family. Jinx’s video came completely out of left field, it was wildly inappropriate and you’re stronger and more committed than ever.”

“But we’re not,” Caitlyn reminded her. “I’m sorry, but I won’t be paraded around town like some—,”

“Would you prefer the implication that you’ve left Vi for Jinx?” Mel wondered, cutting her off. “Because that’s the story they’ll run if we don’t change the narrative.”

“We can’t have that, Caitlyn,” Cassandra told her, sobering, tone dripping with a silent apology. “Being in love with a popstar is one thing, running off to her sister is a scandal the Kiramman name can’t afford. You’re free to separate once this has all blown over, but for the moment, you’ll need to abide by Ms. Medarda’s strategy. Your father and I will play along, if it’s any consolation.”

“It’s not,” was Cait’s curt response.

“I gave you a choice when this all began,” Cassandra reminded her, a challenge in Cait’s gaze despite how she was being put in her place. “You chose her. We couldn’t have foreseen this situation, but unfortunately, that’s celebrity, my darling. It’s terribly unpredictable and oftentimes cruel, and for better or worse, we’re in the thick of it.” She finished with a nod, just a subtle dip of her chin, really. But that was it. End of discussion.

/

“So…this is what you do for fun?”

“Pull!”

Vi flinched when the gun went off, the clay pigeon disintegrating to dust in the air.

“What?” Cait asked her to repeat the question, pulling one of her earmuffs back, her weapon now pointing at the ground.

“I just, uh—you do this for fun? Shoot frisbees?”

“Pigeons,” Cait corrected, fixing her earmuff back in place. “Pull!” Again, Vi flinched. Again, Cait hit her target. She placed another two bullets in the chamber. “I prefer long range targets. It centers me, using a rifle, requires a tremendous amount of focus and control. I do this when I’m angry and feel like I’ve lost control. Pull!” flinch, shatter, poof. “It used to be after difficult exams or disagreements with my mother that I’d come here. Maybe a girl didn’t return my text or my interest or a boy I thought was my friend felt like taking advantage of my kindness. But now—Pull!” flinch, shatter, poof. Reload. “It’s all the time. Pull!” Flinch, shatter, poof. “Nearly every day, in fact. Because my mother and her employees—pull!” Flinch, shatter, poof. Reload. “Have decided it’s my duty to pretend to be in a relationship with a woman—pull!” Flinch, shatter, poof. “Who doesn’t want to be in a relationship with me—pull!” Flinch, shatter, poof. “Because the alternative might just ruin what remains of my life.” She’d run out of bullets. Flinch. “Fuck!”

Vi figured she probably wasn’t meant to respond to any of that. Was pretty sure she hadn’t heard a question mark.

“Well, it’s…kinda hot,” Vi offered as consolation. “You’re a pretty good shot, Cupcake.”

“I’m an excellent shot,” Caitlyn snapped, breaking down her shotgun and sliding it into its carrying bag, tossing her earmuffs in their own compartment. “You’ll do well to remember that.”

“Uh, yeah,” Vi scratched uncomfortably at the back of her neck. “Message received. Are you feeling photogenic?”

Cait rolled her eyes. “Did Mel send the instructions?”

Vi nodded, briefly scrolling back through her texts to remind herself. “It’s supposed to be a selfie…and you’re supposed to be—here, come here.” Cait reluctantly obeyed. “Put your hand in my hair, like thread it through, not like a fist. And I’m gonna take the picture with this hand and hold your face with this hand. Doesn’t need tongue, it’s supposed to look sweet. Sound good?”

“Yes, Vi, sure. Sounds great.”

@therealvi: I just had to let you know you’re…

[image]

/

Ok, @therealvi but the shade of captioning that pic with an Ekko lyric? Especially one that’s sposed to end in MINE???? chaos sisters reign supreme  

/

“—give me a sign / take my hand, we’ll be fine / promise I won’t let you down—,” the disembodied hands moved from grasping and threading and knotting in Vi’s hair, to caressing her neck, unbuttoning her shirt, splaying across her collarbones, her chest… “—just know that you don’t / have to do this alone—,” Vi’s eyes slipped close, head lolling back, pretending at comfort, relief, arousal. “—Promise I’ll never let you down…” she grasped the hands in her own, looking straight into the camera now—audience of one. Find her, she’ll make it easy. “Cause I know I can treat you better / than she can / and any girl like you deserves gentleman—,” Vi forced the hands down over her chest, her stomach, palms pressing, sliding... “Tell me why are we wasting time / with all your wasted cryin’—,” the hands disappeared from frame, Vi’s traveled back up to twist in her own hair. “—when you could be with me instead / I know I can treat you better / better than she can—,”

“Alright, cut!” The director yelled, the music stopping on command, Vi’s hands dropping immediately, posture deflating, the model retracting her arms from around the chair. “That looked great. You feel good about it, Vi?”

“I don’t know, man. You’re the one behind the camera, I’m just being groped.”

“Great!” he clapped. “I think we’ve got it, then. Good job, everybody, that’s a wrap.”

/

Erm, so @therealvi just happens to release a music video 3 MONTHS after the album saying she’ll treat her better? Messy bitchez who love drama and we love messy bitchez. Ps how hot is Vi jesus christ my pussy THROBBIg

/

“This is Calvin Klein,” Vi answered, one hand in her pocket, the other subtly modeling her watch. “I’ve got their underwear on too—guess they pay me extra if I tell you that.”

“I don’t believe you,” the reporter giggled, pressing playfully at Vi’s shoulder like this conversation was taking place in a high school hallway rather than the red carpet of a movie premier.

“What, about the paycheck or the panties?” Vi offered a wry grin in return. “I’ll prove it either way, I have no s—,”

“Baby, your tie’s crooked,” Cait interrupted, stepping between them to smooth down the offending silk, pressing a less-than-chaste kiss to Vi’s lips for good measure before looking back over her shoulder at the reporter. “I’m wearing Gucci, by the way.”

@therealvi: The way that Gucci look on you amazing, but…

[image]

/

@Caitlynkiramman said hands off my woman does she look like shes here for you lmfao I bet you she tops tonight. Plus another ekko lyric? @therealvi not letting this go I respect and am looking respectfully

/

@caitlynkiramman: It’s my party, you can cry if you want to

“Did you get it?” Cait asked, holding the pose, bent down over her vanity, dress plunging low, tube of lipstick poised in delicate fingers a few inches from her mouth.

“Yes,” Mel decided with a satisfied smile, adding a series of filters before uploading.

[image]

/

IS @therealvi SITTING ON THE CHAIR FROM @getjinxd s SLUMBER PARTY VIDEO????

/

Cait immediately straightened to her full height once they’d received the all-clear, capping her lipstick and setting it aside. Vi sat forward out of her reclined position in the background, fastening the rest of the buttons on her shirt.

“Thank you,” Mel offered when neither said a word. “I appreciate you indulging us on your birthday, Caitlyn,” she seemed to be treading carefully, her kind tone an odd consolation prize to the continued siphoning of their humanity.

“Anything to help the cause,” Cait’s words were poisoned with sarcasm, her smile tight, fake. So different from the joy her real ones radiated, the ones that flashed her teeth and lit her eyes, cast her severe beauty in a softer light.

Mel pursed her lips. “Right, well…I’ll be downstairs, then. Enjoy the party, you two. And happy birthday.”

23…hard fought and hard lost, Vi thought with a morbid chuckle. They hadn’t been able to let go, hadn’t been able to say goodbye, and now here Caitlyn stood—Ms. Kiramman. Heir apparent. So far out of Vi’s league she orbited a different fucking solar system. Trapped, stuck. Chained to her, to Vi, a fuckin anvil of a human being. Full of resentment and regret and venom. Both of them were, now. Vi’s sickness having spread to the best person she’d ever met—the purest, kindest, most gentle, most passionate, most—,

“Please don’t look at me like that,” Cait murmured, adjusting her earing and watching Vi in the mirror behind her.

“Like what?”

“Like I’m an empty vessel…and you’re to blame for all the world’s problems.”

Vi scoffed. “I don’t even know what that first thing means.”

“And the second bit?”

“What about it?”

“Do you think that’s true? That my misery is just down to you?”

“You’re miserable?”

“Yes.”

“I made you miserable,” it wasn’t a question.

“Yes,” Caitlyn answered anyway.

Vi nodded, unable to hold Cait’s gaze any longer, her eyes dropping to study her bowtie which was draped around her neck, still untied. Vi had no fuckin’ idea how to tie a bowtie.

“Can I help you with that?” Cait wondered, no longer a reflection, blue eyes boring into her with nothing in between. “Or was it Mel’s plan to convince the guests we just had a quickie in the bathroom? If that’s the case, perhaps untuck your shirt at the front, that will help sell it. I can smudge my lipstick if you’d—,”

“Yeah, you can help.”

Cait blinked, stopping what was nearly a rant, head tilting at Vi’s answer. “Fine,” she said, crossing the room.

Vi’s attention fell to the slit in the leg of her dress, the soft, unmarked, unmarred skin of her thigh visi—Nope! No. Stop it.

A month with no sex. Not even an indecent fumble in the back of a club. Cait was always there, with her, hand in hand, pressed up against her, possessive and tactile and—right in front of me.

“My father taught me, in case you’re wondering,” Cait answered a question Vi hadn’t asked, buttoning Vi’s collar before beginning to knot the bowtie. “There was a period of my childhood when I considered becoming James Bond a viable career choice. Turned out the near-death experiences weren’t required to dress well and charm women, however, so I gave that up.”

“Explains your weird gun obsession, I guess,” Vi smiled. “I seem to remember you being supportive of my right to bear arms too,” she flexed both biceps, inspiring a hard roll of Cait’s eyes and a scoff that sounded considerably more like a choked giggle.

“Stop that, you’ll rip your shirt.”

“That sounds like a challenge.”

“It’s not,” Cait finished with the knot, smoothing the loops down with her hands, smoothing and…lingering. “You look nice. Handsome,” her hands traveled to Vi’s shoulders, brushing them free of particles Vi was sure didn’t exist. “Beautiful,” the word was nearly a whisper. “And what about me?” her tone changed quickly, like she’d regained her footing, taking a step back, away from Vi, Vi missing that touch, but overwhelmed by the picture of Cait in front of her. Unfiltered, uncaptioned. Not staged or coerced or…haunted. Tortured. “Mel picked the dress; I think it’s a bit…much.”

Genuine, if only for this…singular…moment.

“Perfect,” was Vi’s answer. “It’s perfect.”

Cait nodded like that was the answer she’d been expecting, the one she’d been hoping for. “I should go—we should, we should go. This isn’t…”

…Good.

“Real,” Cait finished, finding the word.

The party had already begun by the time they descended the stairs arm in arm, a perfect picture by design.

Jayce gave an enthusiastic wave, cupping his hands around his mouth to shout, “Happy birthday, Caitlyn!” inspiring nearly every guest to turn in their direction.

Idiot.

Cait waved back like a princess, wielding pinched greetings and a smile that would appear gracious to anyone but Vi.

“I appreciate the escort, I can take it from here,” she murmured once they’d reached the bottom of the stairs, Vi taking the hint and dropping her arm, but not before they were caught in Mr. Kiramman’s tractor beam of abject kindness.

“Darling, look at you,” Tobias greeted, tall and thin and handsome with his dark, well-kept beard and rich blue suit. He took Cait’s hand to twirl her. “My god, Vi, can you believe how beautiful she is? I couldn’t have made her better myself. Oh, wait!”

Vi snorted out a laugh, Cait huffed with embarrassment.

“And you, Vi, you,” he released Cait’s hand, giving Vi his undivided attention now. She squirmed. “Leave some crumbs for the rest of us. Did I—did I say that right, Caity?”

Vi full on blushed. What a dumb reaction. She could take explicit compliments from millions of screaming fans, but God forbid her not-girlfriend’s dad be kind to her.

Cassandra felt no need for an in person greeting, choosing instead to raise a glass at Vi from across the room—a gesture Vi very much appreciated at this point in their relationship. Vi acknowledged her with a two-finger salute before being sucked into a conversation about NFTs with Jayce that made Vi want to puncture her own eardrums.

She kept her eyes on Cait the entire night, naturally. Watching her mingle, her mask slipping every so often, either tilting towards honest misery or perhaps more honest enjoyment.

After cake had been served, Tobias stepped onto the stage they’d wheeled into the center of their great room, clinking his dessert fork (Vi hated that she knew that now) on his champagne glass to get everyone’s attention. “Thank you all so much for being here to celebrate our Caitlyn’s 23rd birthday. My present to you, my darling, is a promise I won’t embarrass you any further tonight, so rather than make a speech, I’ll simply introduce the entertainment. Come up here, Vi,” he easily picked her out of the crowd, waving her over with a big, warm smile.

Vi squared her shoulders, taking a deep breath as the room’s attention once again found her.

“This is our daughter’s brilliant girlfriend, Vi,” Tobias announced once she’d stepped on stage, placing a warm hand on her shoulder. “She’s asked to sing a song for Caitlyn tonight. I was told you’d need this…” he was speaking to Vi now, handing her an acoustic guitar. “Take it away!”

She was left alone then; on maybe the smallest stage she’d performed on since she was 14 and begging for time at open mic nights. It was intimate in a way Vi wasn’t used to anymore, and she felt a jolt of nerves run through her. Stupid.

“Uh,” Vi adjusted the microphone down from Tobias’ height, taking her tuxedo jacket off and setting it aside before sitting back on the stool they’d given her. “I guess my dilemma was, what do you get the girl who has everything? And, um,” Cait was standing in the middle of her swarm of guests, looking apprehensive. “Hey, Cupcake,” Vi smiled, distracted for a moment, the nerves dissipating. “Anyway, I thought this would make 16-year-old Cait happy.” She strummed a few chords. “I’m just gonna apologize out the gate, I can play the guitar, but I’m not a guitarist, OK? This might suck, I’m a little rusty with acoustic stuff.”

Vi cleared her throat, leaning closer to the microphone as she began to play, her fingers remembering without direction. Thank god. She closed her eyes just before singing the first lyric.

“You know just what to say / shit, that scares me, I should just walk away / but I can’t move my feet / the more that I know you, the more I want to / something inside me’s changed / I was so much younger yesterday…”

Vi braved a look at Cait as she strummed the instrumental, observing the blush that colored her face, neck, ears—mm…Vi made sure to hold Cait’s gaze when she sang the chorus.

“I didn’t know that I was starving til I tasted you / don’t need no butterflies when you give me the whole damn zoo / by the way, by the way, you do things to my body / I didn’t know that I was starving til I tasted you…”

Cait’s bottom lip was held firmly between her teeth, eyes wide and unblinking. Vi smiled into the next verse.

“You know just how to make, my heart beat faster / emotional earthquake, bring on disaster / you hit me head-on, got me weak in the knees / yeah, something inside me’s changed, I was so much younger yesterday—,”

Vi watched as Cait clasped her hands in front of her during the last chorus. I’m making her nervous…a good nervous, Vi hoped. She knew this wouldn’t fix everything. Wouldn’t fix anything, maybe. But it was worth a shot. Not for Vi, not to claw her way back into Cait’s good graces, but for the 16-year-old in that picture kept hidden away in that scrapbook. That sweet kid, grinning as Vi pressed a kiss to her cheek. The kid that could have bought a private concert like this one but chose to stand in line at the meet and greet like everyone else. Who’d asked so politely for an autograph, who’d been shoed away by an impatient Powder. Who’d attributed her coming out, her—what had she called it?—metamorphosis to Vi, to Powder-Keg, to this silly song Vi had performed a million times for a million different girls. But never like this, because there’d never been a girl like this one before.

There was applause when she finished, polite, docile, but charmed, delighted…Vi didn’t really care. She’d performed for an audience of one, and Caitlyn had yet to drop her gaze.

Vi broke the trance when she stood, placing the guitar back on it’s stand and offering a wave, a smile, a “Thank you!” to the crowd before stepping back onto the floor.

But…she was gone. Cait wasn’t where she’d left her, she—why the fuck does she always do that?

Frowning, Vi searched the crowd, finding Jayce first. Jayce, who nodded in the direction of the kitchen, something like a smirk stretching his lips.

Ugh.

She followed his directions, rounding the corner towards the kitchen when—

A hand reached out from the darkness, yanking Vi by her lapel into the butler’s pantry, lips crashing into hers before Vi could yelp—hands roaming, hungry and needy and dominating beneath Vi’s jacket, pressing her into the wall, wrinkling her shirt.

“That was cruel of you,” Cait pressed, licked, nipped, bit the words into the soft skin below Vi’s ear. “I wish I could hate you for it, I wish I could—,”

“Cait,” Vi stopped her, taking her hands, stilling her, looking into her eyes. I want I want I want. “It was a gift. Just a gift, I don’t need—,”

“But you want. You want me. Don’t you?”

Fuck.

“Please.”

Chapter Text

You want me. Don’t you? A question. Please, she’d implored, with sad eyes, wild, ravenous hands. Her voice so soft and broken with desire it cracked something inside of Vi, something like a dam or a storm wall, some poorly constructed emotional architecture designed to keep Vi’s worst instincts at bay…yeah right.

Cait was kissing her again, now. Taking Vi’s needy whimper, her strong hand clenched around the exposed flesh of Cait’s thigh as the enthusiastic consent it was. Fuck, Vi felt like she’d stumbled across a vending machine in the desert, the price of water just a bit of her self-respect, and she was running on credit there anyway.

“I missed your hands on me,” Cait’s words were strangled by desire, breathed into the skin just above Vi’s collar, biting down, leaving her mark in a way that was probably unbecoming for the party that moseyed on without them just outside the pantry doors. The glass pantry doors.

“Cupcake, I don’t think—,”

“Please, don’t tell me to stop,” Cait’s hands stilled in their journey to the waistband of Vi’s pants.

“I don’t want you to stop,” Vi admitted, hips bucking against the thigh Cait already had pressed between her legs, head swimming with arousal and relief and a complete lack of sound decision-making skills. “I—fuck, I missed this, Cait. But I can’t—I’m not—,”

“You don’t need to be, not for right now, you just…” Cait sunk to her knees, the skirt of her dress pooling around her, face flushed with—, “You inspire the most indecent cravings…” yeah, that. Flushed with whatever that was.

Vi allowed her eyes to slip closed at the feeling of her pants’ clasp being undone and sound of her zipper being pulled down. Whining at the cruel, cold touch of Cait’s elegant fingers, the hot, heady press of her tongue against—

“Oh, f—I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” a member of the catering staff had barged in carrying three empty hor dourves trays, his surprise at finding them in such a compromising position sending them all clattering to the ground, which startled Cait to her feet. Vi gripped her by the elbows, holding her close, all three of them with skin flushed tomato red. “I should have knocked, or—I’m so sorry.” He bent over to gather the trays.

“Leave them, please,” Cait stared at Vi’s bowtie like it was the only safe thing in the room, like fully acknowledging the man would cause her to burst into flames. “You can go.”

“Oh, no way, Ms. Kiramman, I’m not gonna make you guys clean this—,”

“Take the hint, buddy!” Vi’s voice came out at a pitch she didn’t recognize.

“Yep, for sure, my bad,” he nodded, not making direct eye contact with either of them, backing up towards the doorway. “Super bad time to ask for an autograph, I’m guessing.”

“Bro…”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Yeah, copy that. Message received.” He was nearly out the door when he added, “Was really cool to meet you, Yummy’s such a vibe.”

They just stood there for a minute after they were finally, blessedly left alone. In the silence, there was clarity, for both…but naturally, they came to different conclusions.

“Yummy’s such a vibe,” Cait mocked with a laugh, curling further into Vi.

“We should get back to the party,” Vi found herself saying, the hands on Cait’s elbows now pushing her away. Not unkindly, but with obvious intent. “I’d hate to rob Piltover of their birthday girl.”

Cait’s brow furrowed in something like cautious hurt. “Piltover’s birthday girl prefers this pantry with you.”

Vi pursed her lips, gaze and grip dropping. “Yeah, well, I’m trying not to be selfish.”

The party was winding down anyway, it turned out. She decided to stay for one more drink and a brief conversation with Mel about how it was really time to start utilizing the Tik Tok platform. Instagram and Twitter engagement could only get them so far. “It’s about maintaining a brand as much as building one, Vi.”

Right.

Course.

Vi couldn’t bring herself to give a shit, what else was new.

“I messed up again,” she said, maybe interrupting Mel, maybe not. She hadn’t really been paying attention.

Mel finished her drink. “Yes, I overheard the waiter telling his friends about his once in a lifetime celebrity encounter. Quite the scandal.”

Vi groaned, resting her forehead on the table. “Why does everything have to be so fucking difficult, Mel? So, like, painful and…everyday, I wake up and feel like I’m—I don’t know, walking on eggshells or like a minefield or something. I’m tired of being a fuck up.”

“Violet?”

She didn’t have the strength to correct her.

Mel placed a warm hand on her upper back, thumb rubbing a soothing pattern.

Fuck, Vi missed having a mom. The thought came unbidden. Stronger than any punch she’d ever landed.

“You are not a fuck up,” Mel murmured, leaning down near her ear as Vi didn’t have the courage to raise her head. “This is a minefield we’re navigating, but unlike before, when it was just you, or perhaps you and Powder, you have allies now. Ones that love and appreciate and believe in you, but with that comes responsibility. That’s what you’re feeling now, and when it’s new, accountability can be a crushing force. This matters, you matter. And I know, somewhere perhaps deep down, you understand that.”

“I don’t matter,” Vi whispered. “Vi matters.”

Mel hummed, “To many, yes. But you, Violet, matter to me, if you can believe it. You matter to Jayce, which I’m sure brings little comfort,” she chuckled at her own joke. “I can’t speak for Cassandra, though I’d argue she wouldn’t allow all this business with Caitlyn if she didn’t have at least a modicum of affection for you. And as for Caitlyn herself, well…she’s spent the entirety of this lavish party dedicated to her—in theory only, I’ll admit—looking like she’s a breath away from crumbling, which would be heartbreaking if it weren’t so predictable.”

“Yeah, because of me, because I fucked everything up.”

“I don’t believe Caitlyn Kiramman was raised to feel sorry for herself. It’s you she feels for,” Mel corrected, giving Vi’s back one more pat before standing up. “Empathy should be classified a controlled substance, I swear.”

Vi finally lifted her head, watching as Mel slipped into her jacket. “I don’t want anyone to feel sorry for me.”

“And why’s that?” Mel wondered. “I feel sorry for you. Your entire upbringing is one long heartbreak, and perhaps the public thinks you struck gold with Powder-Keg’s record deal—got you off the street, didn’t it? Erased the orphan title, maybe. Made you rich and famous and beloved. But we know better, don’t we. We know what you traded. Caitlyn knows. She traded it herself, just recently. Willingly. For you, Violet. And what’s she asked for in return?”

“She loves me.”

“Indeed,” Mel nodded, picking up her clutch and waving Jayce over, signaling it was time to depart. “She’s asked for everything then. And nothing. A massive ask, for someone like you.”

Vi ached at that. Someone like me…

“Someone who deals almost solely in trauma, Vi,” Mel translated before Vi could start spiraling. “She’d never fault you for that.”

“You ready?” Jayce was there with a half-drunk smile, offering his arm to Mel.

She took it. “No more alcohol tonight, please,” she instructed. “Be well, we’ll chat tomorrow about the thirst trap I need from you.”

Vi scoffed, waving them away. “Later.”

Cait was ascending the stairs when Vi was finally ready to leave. She watched her go without a goodbye, figuring she’d stumble through an apology later, when she’d had some time to think.

Yeah, tomorrow would be better.

Clear head and all that.

Vi was waiting on the curb for her ride when she saw the light in Cait’s bedroom flick on.

Go home, Vi.

She watched a shadow pass by the window. Cait’s silhouette in that dress—,

Oh, fuck it.

Vi jumped the fence, jogging to the lattice and hoisting herself up (not an easy feat in a fucking tuxedo).

The window was open, just a crack, just enough for Vi to shove it upwards and leap over the sill.

Cait stood there stunned, looking at her with wide eyes, hands frozen at her earlobe where they’d been working the clasp lose on her earring.

“I said the wrong lyrics,” Vi blurted, Cait jumped. “I meant that I’ve made the same mistakes a couple of hundred times, but…let me redeem myself tonight. I just need one more shot at second chances.”

Cait blinked.

“I know it’s my song so I should know all the lyrics, but—I fucked that up. And in front of your mom, I—,”

“You’re here to apologize for misquoting your own song?” Cait was somewhere between confusion and disbelief.

“No, I—goddamn it,” Vi crossed the room in three long strides, cupping Cait’s jaw and cashing their lips together.

Cait offered absolutely zero hesitation in kissing back, and Vi’s heart nearly leapt out of her chest. She gripped Cait’s exposed back through the window in her dress, running her blunt nails roughly, wanting to take and feel and touch, everything, everywhere. Wishing she could disappear into Cait’s body, exist beneath her skin in a way that made no rational sense but had Vi pushing Cait back towards the bed. Guiding her without sight, too focused on the taste and feel of Cait’s passion, the ravenous, unforgiving nature of her tongue. Sucking and licking, teeth biting and pulling. She loved when Cait kissed her like this. When she didn’t hold back. No secrets between them, no pretense. Just want. Obvious, mutual, unadulterated need.

“I can’t believe how good you look in a tuxedo,” Cait was breathing into her mouth, shucking the jacket clumsily from Vi’s shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. “I thought I’d been too forward, I thought I’d—,”

Vi shook her head, pressing her tongue into Cait’s mouth to give her something to suck on, freeing Cait’s shoulders from the dress, letting the fabric fall to her waist, her hands pressing and squeezing and scratching the now exposed skin, unclasping her bra without a second thought.

“Vi, wait, please, if you—,”

Her mouth was already on Cait’s breast, suckling at her nipple, rolling the other between calloused fingers.

“I want this to last, please, I—,” Caitlyn’s chest heaved, fingers knotting in Vi’s slicked back hair. “Don’t make this quick, please, I’m begging you.”

Vi stilled then, pulling back just slightly to look up at her, Cait’s face stained with the blush she’d inspired. “Whatever you want tonight, Cupcake. I’m here for you.”

“Make love to me,” she said, the request high and breathy and somewhere outside of her control. “I want to mean more to you tonight. As a—you can call it a gift, if you need to. That’s alright.”

“I don’t really know how to—,”

“Pretend,” Cait cut her off, wrapping her hands around the back of Vi’s neck, pressing their foreheads together. “Let’s just pretend.”

Vi found herself nodding, heart beating an uneasy rhythm as she leaned forward to kiss her again, gentler now, slower, deeper, with intent. “OK.” She guided Cait into a seated position at the foot of the bed once she’d finally found it, falling to her knees to unclasp the delicate buckle on each of Cait’s heels, setting the shoes aside and trailing her hands back up her fucking endless legs.

Cait reached forward to pull the knot free from Vi’s bowtie, the silk hanging limp at her collar now. “I used to imagine something like this,” she smiled, fingers finding the buttons on Vi’s shirt. “Was sure you’d be my dashing Romeo one day, and now look at you.”

One act away from downing a shot of poison.

“I love you in this dress,” was what Vi said instead.

So close. So close to the truth. But so far from the acceptance of it, the understanding.

Cait closed her eyes three words into that sentence, no doubt fantasizing a different implication. “I’m glad you came back.”

“Me too,” Vi murmured into the soft skin of Cait’s thigh, her breath traveling along, inspiring a shiver from Cait that tightened something in Vi’s gut. She nuzzled at the damp panties all too accessible thanks to the deep slit in Cait’s dress, teasing at the wetness with her nose, her lips, her teeth. Cait’s hand clenched in her hair; a whimper hissing through her teeth. “Can I taste you? Or is that not…making love.”

Cait giggled at that like she couldn’t tell if Vi was genuinely naïve or making a joke, though the damp spot on her panties expanded at the phrase, betraying her arousal. “It’s whatever we’d like it to be, but wait, here—,” she gently pushed Vi away, standing and unzipping the dress at her hip, letting it fall completely to the floor. “And I’d like to—can I undress you?”

Vi was blushing now too. “Yeah, if you want.”

“I do,” Cait affirmed, finishing with the buttons on Vi’s shirt, stopping to gently remove the cufflinks at her wrist before pushing the fabric off Vi’s shoulders.

Vi couldn’t remember the last time she’d gone slow like this. Wasn’t sure if she ever had, actually. There was a reverence to Cait’s movements that felt unfamiliar as she stripped her of the rest of her clothing—her pants, her briefs, her bra, all carefully cast aside.

“I love your body,” Cait murmured once Vi was fully on display, bright blue eyes passing over each dip, each valley, each striated muscle, vein, scar, each tattoo…like Vi was some work of art. And she supposed she was, certainly spent enough time in the gym sculpting her body. Certainly inspired enough articles, retweets, reblogs, gifsets, life-sized cut outs, posters…but the way Cait was looking at her now, it wasn’t appraising, it was…uh…it wasn’t just lust, it was…shit. “It’s so—,”

Impressive, Vi thought.

“Beautiful,” Cait said.

Vi wasn’t as gentle with Cait’s panties, though she didn’t seem to mind when she laid back on the bed, pulling Vi on top of her and trailing warm, wet kisses from the hinge of Vi’s jaw, down her neck…Vi’s muscles clenched where she hovered, suspended, closing her eyes at the feeling of Cait’s soft lips on her skin.

“I thought about you every night.” Dumb thing to say, Vi, stupid thing to say.

“I’m always thinking about you,” Cait pressed the words into Vi’s skin, branding them there.

“I was really lonely, I—I touched myself all the time to the pictures you’d sent before.” Quit while you’re ahead, what the fuck?!

Cait let out an odd little squeak at that, suddenly grabbing Vi’s hips and pulling them flush. “I want to feel you…”

Vi rolled her hips at the command, Cait’s legs tightening around her as she allowed Vi to drag herself back and forth, barely achieving any direct pressure but having a mind-numbing effect none the less. “Haven’t—haven’t had sex in like a month,” Vi gritted, fingers tightening in the bedspread next to Cait’s head. “I know you wanted this to last but I don’t know how long—,”

“It’s fine, your thigh, can I have your—mm,” Cait grunted when Vi complied, threading her thigh between Cait’s legs, rocking up into her now, using Cait’s thigh to chase her own pleasure. Her hands came up to thread in the fine hairs at the base of Vi’s scalp, craning her neck to kiss her, their tongues sliding and probing to the rhythm of their hips.

Vi could feel how wet she was, could feel herself smear on Cait’s thigh, making it harder and harder to maintain friction. Fuck, this felt like high school—or like high school should have felt. Messy, sweaty fumblings in the backs of cars and hushed, hurried groping in childhood bedrooms, trying not to get caught by nosy parents.

That’s probably the adolescence Cait’d had, Vi realized. While Vi had been 15, 16, 17, 18, high or drunk with a girl grinding on her lap, begging for something Vi couldn’t even give herself—Cait had been in this bedroom, sneaking childhood suitors past her mother’s watchful eye, guessing and checking and giggling and experimenting…she knew what growing up was, what making love was. She knew what that felt like. And Vi…fuck, she hadn’t the slightest clue.

Vi fought her instinct to sit back, to wrench Cait’s legs apart and fuck her the way she knew how, the way Vi was good at. With strong, harsh fingers and solid, frenzied thrusts. With a lashing tongue and an unforgiving, unrelenting pace. Fought the instinct to take.

She wants me to give.

Vi changed the angle, sitting up straighter and sliding higher on Cait’s thigh, pressing her sopping core directly against Cait’s beneath her, feeling her arousal returned in kind. She’s always so fucking wet for me, God.  

Probably wasn’t much place for God here, on second thought, although the slip and press of Cait’s clit against hers was bordering on a religious experience.

“Ah!—mm, Vi!” Cait’s repetitive, nearly frantic whines came from somewhere high in her chest. “I love you, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Cait’s eyes sparkled with unshed tears.

“I know,” Vi’s own eyes slammed shut, balancing Cait’s leg high on her shoulder, spreading her wider, moving deeper, harder, core flexing, grinding down against her. “I’m sorry too.” She felt Cait begin to arch off the bed beneath her, and in another few thrusts it was over, Vi swallowing Cait’s moans with a greedy kiss, letting the spasms of Cait’s core, the twitching and gushing against her carry her down off that magnificent peak, down the violent drop on the other side where reality lay waiting to set in.

/

Vi’s eyes blinked quietly open at the whisper of a soothing touch on her exposed back. Tracing patterns, lines, swirls…gears, cogs. Vi remembered the pen tracing those same shapes, creating permeance. Offering agency.

This was softer, of course, but just as powerful, somehow.

“I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Vi hadn’t meant to fall asleep. It was still dark out, though, so not all was lost.

“Usually girls ask what they mean.”

“I know what they mean,” Cait didn’t stop her ministrations, Vi was grateful. “Watched that interview more than once, I’m afraid.”

“You probably thought I was, like, so deep, huh?” Vi chuckled.

“The deepest,” Cait confirmed with a laugh of her own. “Just another cog in the Piltiewood machine.” She mocked Vi’s generic accent.

Vi groaned, burying her face in the pillow.

“You didn’t mention the clouds, though,” Cait continued, tone losing that teasing quality that put Vi at ease. “Here and here,” she traced them with her finger. “Are these for Powder?”

“Yeah, added them after she was taken away.”

Cait hummed softly, shifting to lean over Vi’s back now, placing kisses on the places her fingers had stalled.

“She didn’t turn the wheel,” Vi found herself saying, the words climbing her throat of their own accord, slipping past her lips. “She didn’t even try to.”

Cait stilled then, her lips hovering just above Vi’s skin, breath puffing over the inked surface. “The…the wheel?”

“Powder…” Vi murmured, turning her head further so her words weren’t lost to the bedspread. “Powder was driving.”

“No, Vi, you—,”

“No, Cait. She was driving.” It felt so odd to say that out loud. It felt like a lie even though it wasn’t.

Cait stayed silent now, moving back to listen. “Powder was driving.”

“She, uh, she only had her learners permit but she…it was a bad night. Powder used to have these, um, they’re called manias, I guess? I’d lose her, kinda. Sometimes I could calm her down but sometimes she just needed…escape. It was one of those nights.” Vi turned from her stomach to her side, facing away from where Cait was propped up on her elbow, staring at Cait’s still open window instead, entranced by how the lace curtains fluttered in the breeze. “There was this place we used to drive to on nights like that, in Zaun, it’s like this abandoned factory where we used to hang before we got the record deal. It was a good place to break stuff, which used to help her. Both of us, really. Throw bottles at the wall, watch ‘em shatter, that kind’ve thing. But that night I was fucked up, too fucked up to drive but she had to go, had to get out. So I let her…she…she aimed right for that tree. Stepped on the fucking gas, didn’t turn the wheel…I reached over and I—,” Vi closed her eyes, feeling the leather in her hands, the violent swerve of the wheels beneath her. “I tried to protect her, tried to make sure only my side hit the tree and I—I hit the dash and she hit the wheel.”

“Violet,” Cait breathed. “You went to jail.”

“And she went to a fucking psych ward, Caitlyn,” Vi snapped. “I sent her there. She was out of her fucking mind, and I hit her. I hit her so hard, Cait. And when the cops came, I…I told them she was sick. I told them she was sick in the head.”

“You told them you were driving…and that she needed help…”

“She was just a kid,” tears spilled down Vi’s cheeks. “She was just a kid and she needed my help, Cait. Mine. And I let them take her.”

“Please don’t leave me I don’t wanna go without you, please,” sobbing, spitting, scared. “Vi, please, I can’t get them to stop I don’t wanna be here, I—,”

“She…there were voices, or…people, monsters in her head. She wanted out, forever, for good. She didn’t know what that…couldn’t know what that meant. But she wanted me with her. So she kept the wheel straight and she hit the gas and…I couldn’t help her.

“You’re a Jinx!”

“Still can’t.”

Chapter Text

It wasn’t exactly like Vi had to tiptoe, the carpet in Caitlyn’s room was so plush she could have stomped out the door and the sleeping Cait would have been none the wiser.

She looked peaceful where she lay—hair perfectly disheveled, lips slightly parted, every bit the unconventional leading lady Vi hadn’t expected—arm outstretched to the place Vi had been, now resting on empty bedsheets, fingers splayed, grasping for something that wasn’t there. Seemed like a metaphor, but those weren’t exactly Vi’s thing.

Vi found her cufflinks on the vanity where they’d been carefully set aside the night before. She shoved them (not so carefully) into the pocket of her slacks, threading her arms through the sleeves of her shirt but not bothering to button it, draping her jacket over her shoulders.

She spared one more look back at Cait before leaving, fingers clenching until her knuckles turned white on the wood of the door, willing herself to stay, to step back inside, strip herself bare, take Cait’s hand…

But it was all pretend. Wasn’t much room for morning afters in that, even if they’d had nearly three months of morning afters before Vi let the shit hit the fan.

“See you later, Cupcake,” Vi murmured instead, closing the door behind her with a soft ‘click’ and navigating the now more familiar maze of corridors that made up the Kiramman mansion.

“Vi, is that you?”

She’d nearly made it when she heard the voice, the question not accusing but genuinely inquisitive. Goddamn it.

I should keep walking, I should just—

Tobias popped his head out of the breakfast nook, looking truly pleased to see her. “It is you! Cassandra,” he asked the question over his shoulder, “Did you know Vi stayed the night?”

“Yes, darling,” the voice behind him was colder. “I’m afraid I watched her jump our fence.”

Vi shifted, finding Cassandra at the table behind Tobias, expression hidden by the morning paper, although Vi could make a pretty educated guess by this point. “But Cait said you—I thought you only had a camera on the front gate,” why is that the thing you say, Vi? Why?

“You thought wrong, it would seem,” Cassandra placed the paper down in front of her, taking a slow sip of her tea. “As did Caitlyn, though this is a secret I think can stay between us.” Her eyes were so much like Cait’s, their blue so familiar but…different, still. Not as vibrant, maybe. Not as innocent, definitely. “Where are you off to in such a hurry? And half dressed?”

“Oh, I was just—uh—,”

“Have breakfast with us!” Tobias suddenly suggested, stepping back and pulling out a chair. “Caitlyn mentioned you’re not fond of carbs in the morning, not to worry, we have plenty of protein.”

“Damn, that’s so—that’s a really nice offer, it’s just, Mel wanted me to—,”

“Sit, Vi.” Cassandra nodded towards the empty chair. “Really, we insist. Your thirst trap can be imagined later.” Yeah, that didn’t sound like a suggestion.

Vi cleared her throat, offering Tobias a tight smile, Cassandra a nervous glance as she sat, pulling herself closer to the table. “Um, thank you.”

“Yes, I’m certain you’re famished,” Cassandra waved a flippant hand towards the covered dishes between them. “Help yourself.”

“The sausage is delightful,” Tobias offered.

“May not be her speed, darling,” Cassandra shot her husband a look, he raised a napkin to his lips to hide his responding grin.

Did she just…? was that a…?

“Of course, perhaps the rashers, then,” Tobias said, eyes dancing back to his wife. “Always been Caitlyn’s preference as well, after all.”

Cassandra smacked him on the shoulder, he laughed out loud, the sound full of genuine mirth, acting like a schoolboy who’d been shamed for a dirty joke. “You’re terrible.”

This was a fuckin fever dream.

“What are rashers?” Vi swore these people spoke a different language.

“Bacon,” Tobias translated with a chuckle, standing to lift the lid on one of the platters of food. “Help yourself.”

Vi really was hungry…she took a plate, and then gingerly served herself a few pieces of the meat that kind’ve looked like bacon but also not really.

“Eggs?” Tobias offered next.

Vi nodded, taking maybe too much, but no one really seemed to care.

“Eat some fruit,” Cassandra added, distracted by her paper again. “It’s good for you.”

Should’a gone back out the window…

“Lovely party last night,” Tobias threw out a general prompt for conversation. “Our guests couldn’t stop gushing over your performance. I guess many of them thought your studio vocals were mostly autotune. We know better, of course. I would have extended their compliments, but I hardly saw you after the performance.”

“I’m sure the waiter could have pointed you in the right direction, Tobias,” Cassandra poured herself another cup of tea. “Seemed he had no trouble locating them.”

“Better him than me,” Tobias laughed, Cassandra let a smirk slip. Vi was pretty sure she wanted to die. “It’s been a whirlwind couple of months for you.”

Vi thanked whatever God was most convenient for the subject change. “Things always get crazy when you release an album. I’m just trying to keep my head down, make some money for the label, all that.”

That finally caught Cassandra’s undivided attention. “This absolute calamity is your version of keeping your head down?”

Vi felt the tips of her ears grow hot. “Said I was trying.”

Rolling her eyes, Cassandra folded her paper away for good. “Please, Vi, no kicked puppy look at the breakfast table.”

“Darling,” there was some version of warning in Tobias’ tone, though his expression seemed to have a calming affect on his wife. “I’m glad you stayed last night, Vi. Obviously, it’s not my place, but Caitlyn has been very much…in her feelings as of late.”

“She’s going to kill you, Tobias,” Cassandra chuckled.

“Oh, stop,” he huffed. “I’m only trying to offer Vi some sage counsel, as the only other person in this room who’s had the pleasure of being pursued by a Kiramman woman. Caitlyn will forgive me that.”

Vi was glancing between them, processing this information slower than she probably should have. “You—you pursued him?” The question was for Cassandra.

“Of course,” she answered like Vi was silly for even asking. “Tobias was a medical student, already on his way to a promising career, I was studying business as a formality. I pined after him for nearly 6 months before he finally got the hint, as it were. Had to physically corner him in the library, tell him when to pick me up and where to take me. It was exhausting, really, but well worth it in the end.”

“Yes, I went from Doctor to trophy husband faster than my parents could say they were disappointed in me,” Tobias laughed, good natured, taking Cassandra’s hand. “Caitlyn reminds me of you in that way, my darling. Her intensity, her passion, it’s…awe-inspiring, really. But disconcerting all at once.” He turned back to Vi then. “She was born with her heart on her sleeve and an all-consuming, oftentimes ill-fated devotion to whatever it is she sets her sights on. Both genetic ailments, I’m afraid.”

Vi didn’t exactly understand what he was getting at. This seemed like it should be a don’t break my daughter’s heart or I’ll fuck up your life type conversation, but…he was saying a lot of fancy words and it was pretty early in the morning, so…huh?

“Look, Mr. Kiramman, I don’t—,”

“Tobias, please.”

“Right, my bad. Me and Cait, we’re—uh—we’re complicated right now, I don’t—,”

“We’ve been doing complicated for over 25 years now,” Tobias squeezed his wife’s hand, cutting Vi short, which she was grateful for because she had zero idea where she was going with that. “It’s not a death sentence, Vi, no need to make it one.”

“—was everything hard enough / ‘cause one day you’ll wake up—,”

They were interrupted by the sound of singing echoing somewhere behind them, the kitchen, maybe, faint at first but getting closer—Cait’s voice. A little pitchy, but not exactly cringe-worthy.

“—then you’ll say—,”

“Oh, goodness, Tobias, save her from herself, please.”

“I wanna be your lover / I don’t wanna be your friend—”

“Caitlyn!”

“—you don’t know what you got till it’s gone, my dear / so tell me that you love me again—,”

Cait came into view then wearing a pair of incredibly distracting leggings and a sports bra, short ponytail threaded through the back of a ballcap. Vi twisted in her chair to watch her lace up some running shoes, headphones in her ears, evidently blissfully unaware she had an audience.

“—I wanna be your lover / baby I’ll hold my breath…” she trailed off as she straightened up, her attention on her smartwatch now. “Dad!” Cait was talking way too loudly, frowning at the watch as she swiped past some notification. “Can we talk when I get back from my run? I know I promised no more 50-minute showers, but Vi—,”

“Caitlyn!” Tobias shouted again, clapping this time as well. That seemed to get Cait’s attention, because she finally looked up—meeting her dad’s eyes first…before her gaze fell to Vi.

She wrenched her headphones out of her ears.

Cassandra pinched the bridge of her nose. “Oh, the humiliation…our poor, poor plumbing…”

“It’ll be an hour this time,” Tobias sighed. “Minimum.”

Cait ignored them, solely focused on Vi, eyes wide—stricken, horrified, relieved, confused. “You’re—you’re here, you’re—eating breakfast with my parents?”

“Uh, yeah, you’re—sorry, are you listening to my sister’s song to get over me?”

“No!” Cait insisted, the lie as plain as the blush on her face. “Certainly not, that would be incredibly embarrassing.”

“Right,” Vi let that hang between them for a moment, biting the inside of her cheek to stifle a laugh. “So, is it a cover of my sister’s song, or…”

“Why is your shirt unbuttoned?”

Vi glanced down at her chest and stomach, the exposed fabric of her bra. “Uh…”

“It’s quite alright, Vi,” Tobias assured. “If my abdominals looked like that, I wouldn’t cover them up either.”

“Dad!”

“Par for the course by this point, Caitlyn,” Cassandra seemed relatively disinterested in her daughter’s distress. “Would you like to eat before your run? Vi’s still only on her first helping.”

Vi found herself nodding to confirm.

“I…” Cait opened and closed her mouth a good three times before finding the right words. “I woke up alone, I—I thought you’d left.”

Vi had a choice here, she realized. This was a crossroads. She’d gone down one path last night and a different one this morning and neither seemed exactly right, but this was a chance to reset.

I was on my way out, actually.

She turned the phrase over in her mind.

Sorry, Cupcake, Mel’s got me booked. I’ll see you around.

Cassandra was watching her, Tobias too. Hope and judgment and something like fear in their eyes.

My bad, didn’t mean to sneak out on you. I’ll call you later.

Was Vi sweating? She was pretty sure she was sweating.

“I got hungry,” the words sounded like they came from someone else. “Thought I’d let you sleep in.”

Cait’s parents seemed to visibly relax, though Cassandra’s change in demeanor was less obvious. Cait’s posture remained stiff, however, eyes searching Vi’s face for a tell.

“That’s OK…” she said, cautiously, biting down on a smile. “Perfectly alright to be hungry. You don’t—have somewhere to be?”

Maybe, probably, always.

“I’ve got time for breakfast.”

Cait stepped towards the table, pulling the empty chair out slowly, like any sudden movements might spook Vi into leaving. “I can give you a ride back home afterwards,” she offered, fighting to obscure her obvious joy. “If you’d like.”

Vi averted her gaze, scooping a mound of scrambled eggs onto her fork. “Sure, thanks.”

/

Caitlyn fidgeted in the driver’s seat, her hand was restless on the gear shift between them, despite the car being an automatic. She tapped her fingers relentlessly on the leather, gripping and releasing the knob until Vi had to fuckin say something.

“You good, Cupcake?”

“What? Oh, yes, sorry,” Cait smiled over at her, something anxious in her expression. “Strange morning, is all.”

Vi huffed out a laugh. “You can say that again…”

“I’d like to, uh,” they’d stopped at a red light. Cait was nervous. “I was just thinking—I had the urge to hold your hand.”

Vi blinked, ears scalding, palms sweating. “You wanna hold my hand?”

“Well, I had the urge to,” Cait stepped on the gas, eyes back on the road.

“Are you…are you gonna?”

“Would you—you’d be OK with that?”

“I mean, not if you’re gonna keep making it weird…”

Without another word, Cait reached across the console to take Vi’s hand where it gripped her own thigh, her fingers long and elegant but still somehow dwarfed in Vi’s grasp.

Vi was surprised by how it put her at ease, by how normal it felt to be navigating Piltover traffic with Cait in the driver’s seat, hand in hand, hidden from the early afternoon sunlight by the tint on Cait’s windows that would get someone from Zaun pulled over.

“I’d…I’d like to talk about last night,” Cait ventured after a few blocks of companionable silence.

Vi didn’t look at her but didn’t drop her hand either. “What about it?”

“I suppose…I mean, I guess there’s a number of things we should discuss. The sex first, probably. What it means for us, what it makes us, if it changed anything for you. And then, what you told me about your sister, Vi. It was a…well, shocking revelation would be an understatement.”

There was nowhere for Vi to escape to, no back room, no stage, no gym…just Vi and Cait and this car in Friday morning Piltover traffic. The circumstances suddenly felt a lot less romantic.

Cait seemed to sense her discomfort. “Sorry, I know I—it can still be pretend if you…that’s alright. I was almost used to our divide. It’s just, it seemed like, at breakfast this morning, things had…shifted, perhaps. And last night, too. But maybe I’m…it’s my fault, really,” she concluded, throwing Vi for a loop. “The way you make lo—the way you f—the way you touch me,” she settled, finally. “I think I’m addicted to it and I…perhaps I misread the signs. Your smiles and your kisses and your touches and your vulnerability. The way you had to have me…I assumed you felt differently than you did, before Jinx. Obviously. And you hurt me, and I was too wounded to find a common language with you because it was so clear to me and—you were falling in lust while I was falling in love and last night, when you told me about the—,”

“Take a right up here,” Vi instructed, dropping Cait’s hand to point at the stop sign up ahead. “And then the next left.”

Cait fell silent, allowing Vi to navigate her out of Piltover and into Zaun. It wasn’t until Vi told her to pull into an empty parking lot that Cait protested.

“Vi, I’m going to pop a tire, what are we—,”

“This is where me and Powder were headed that night,” Vi told her, nodding at the metal building in front of them, unsure of exactly what possessed her to take this significant detour.

Caitlyn hunched to peer out the windshield. “This is a long way from that Highway…”

“That’s how drunk I was, didn’t even fuckin notice.”

“Was there a reason?”

“Hm?”

“That you were drunk.”

Vi tried to blink away the memory. “So stupid.”

“What is?” Cait whispered.

“I can’t even remember the girl’s name now, that’s the fucked-up part,” Vi admitted with a humorless laugh. “She’d been to a few of my shows—older than me, too old for me. Nice enough, stupid pretty…Powder was happy, I left her to sign autographs backstage and told the girl to meet me at the bus…found her hooking up with Sevika of all fucking people—all’s fair in love and war, or whatever, right? By the time Powder found me I was half a bottle in and she was…gone. Not Powder. In the worst kinda headspace, the kind I could barely pull her back from on a good day and that…that was not a good day.”

Cait had unbuckled her seatbelt, turning fully in her seat to watch Vi as she spoke. “Vi, why did you tell the police you’d been driving? You were 18 and intoxicated. The penalty for driving while intoxicated as a minor and endangering the welfare of a child is far worse than what Powder would have been charged with.”

“Vander didn’t answer his phone.”

“Vander?”

“Silco said they’d see there were no skid marks. No signs she’d tried to stop,” Vi leaned back, running a hand through her hair. Forcing herself to remember, trying to get all of it up, out, into the open. Her confession feeling silly in the light of day. Stupid. “He said he’d get her the help she needed, that everybody loved me, that they’d forgive the drunk popstar, but that the crazy would stick to her. Mark her. Troubled child star tried to kill her heartthrob sister—drunk’s a mistake, crazy’s forever. I believed that, I just…I didn’t trust him, even back then. So I told the cops she was sick and…she got placed on a 14 day hold that turned into a 30 day hold and by the time she got out, Silco had filed the restraining order and made himself her guardian.”

Cait bridged the divide between them, taking Vi’s hand again.

“The last time I saw my sister, she was being carted away in a fucking straitjacket. That’s my fault, Cait. That’s on me. That’s the only person I’ve ever really loved, and that’s what I did to her. What I do to people.”

“Violet, that’s simply not true—,”

“You don’t really love me, Cupcake. You love the idea of me. Love the poster on your wall. You can pretend it’s something deeper, but I—,”

Cait cut her off by pressing a firm kiss to her lips, holding Vi by her jacket, her grip strong and decisive. “I do love the idea of you,” she whispered, their lips a breath apart now, foreheads pressed together. “Imagine my surprise when, at 22 years old, I realized the object of all my adolescent affection, all my teenage dreams, was everything I hoped she’d be and more. Every bit the charming, kind, hilarious, chivalrous young woman I’d imagined her to be. I know you, Vi. I see your pain, I do. I see your misery and your guilt and your shame. But I also see you, beneath it all. I see your enormous heart and the incredible depth at which you feel things. And I feel you, too. The warmth of your skin, the reverence in your lips, the passion in your hands…the only thing I fear is your rejection, so just…give me a chance, please. To love you, to help you. Don’t shut me out, I’m—,”

Vi’s hands grabbed Cait’s hips, yanking her over the center console and into Vi’s lap in the passenger seat, dropping the backrest to try and accommodate Caitlyn’s height. It was a tight squeeze, but Vi didn’t really care, she'd make it work.

“I don’t believe you,” Vi hissed between deep, wet kisses, tears stinging her eyes, one hand on the back of Cait’s neck, holding her close, the other plunging beneath the waistband of her leggings, finding her ready and wanting.

“Vi!” Cait whined, mouth falling open at the sudden intrusion but pressing herself down further on Vi’s fingers, taking her deeper. “God, baby…”

Vi’s heart clenched, panic rising at her sudden rush of affection. “I don’t believe you,” she repeated, her mouth on Cait’s neck now. “You don’t want me. Nobody fuckin wants me. You want this.” She added a 3^rd finger, fucked her faster, harder. The way she knew Cait liked, the way she was good at.

“Yes, I—,” Cait’s eyes rolled back in her head, hand clenching in Vi’s hair. “I do, I—I want this, Vi, I—mm! ff—I want you. Oh, god, I want you I want you I want you.”

She doesn’t mean it, Vi wanted to assure herself. Transactional, as always. Physical intimacy separate from genuine affection, from feelings and fear and hurt and all the things that Vi had been avoiding since she was a child, unable to fathom anything unconditional.

“Please believe me, Vi, you—I’m gonna—baby—Violet!”

Violet.

She’d come with that name on her lips. The one reserved for caring mothers and angry sisters and…Caitlyn.

Caitlyn

Caitlyn

Caitlyn

Vi kissed her with everything she had, every ounce of raw emotion she could muster, and Cait moaned into her, meeting her in it. More than halfway.

Chapter Text

“It won’t be a full-blown tour, just a few dates,” Jayce explained. “Two here in Piltover, four overseas, then you’ll return for one in Zaun to round things out. Should put us in a good spot to wait for the Piltie noms.”

“Please say ‘nominations’, Jayce,” Mel let out a long-suffering sigh.

“She knows what I mean.”

“I don’t, actually,” Vi sided with Mel. “Not a fuckin clue, try again.”

Jayce crossed his arms, glowering in something that resembled a pout. “We need to keep momentum going into awards season, alright? That’s what this tour is for. To get you and Ekko the—,”

“OK, wait, hold on,” Vi held a hand up to stop him. “First up, it’s nice that you guys like me, but I’m not getting a fuckin’ Piltie nomination for singing the word yummy 200 times in 3 minutes. Second, Ekko is opening for me?”

“Well, no…”

Vi raised a scarred eyebrow. “I’m opening for Ekko?”

“Down, girl, you’re headlining together,” Mel assured. “A showcase of Kiramman Records’ shining stars.”

“…right before awards season,” Vi concluded.

“See? You’re starting to catch on,” Jayce grinned. “We need the focus back on the music.”

Vi scoffed. “And the way to do that is having me tour with my sister’s boyfriend?”

“How about you let us worry about the optics, hm?” Mel suggested, tapping a quick email out on her phone. “As long as you and Caitlyn remain likable, the rest will fall into place.”

Vi considered, stopping her foot tapping once she noticed she was doing it. “When can I see her again?”

“Caitlyn?” Mel put her phone away. “I have no designs on your time together, whenever y—,”

“No, Jinx,” Vi cut her off. “I haven’t seen her in person since…well, you know.”

“Since she embarrassed your unproblematic socialite girlfriend in the most watched music video of the year?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you want to see her, Vi?” the question came from Jayce and she hated him for it.

Vi pursed her lips. Do I want to see her? Even having to consider the question made her feel like a shitty person, shitty sister. “I can’t go another 6 years.”

“It won’t be that long, Vi,” there was something calming in Mel’s eyes, something exceedingly kind without being patronizing. “When you do see her again, we’ll need it to be on our terms. We can’t have a repeat of last time. Not right now, anyway. If you promise us you can be in control of your emotions, we can arrange something. But until then, I think it’s best you stay separated. Alright?”

I’m not ready, Vi realized, the honesty surprising her. Not yet. “I’ll let you know, I guess,” she said, inspiring a subtle smile on Mel’s lips.

/

“And, how long will you be gone?”

“Just like two weeks, nothing crazy.”

“I see.”

“Do you, uh, I mean…you could come with?”

Caitlyn’s fork paused halfway to her mouth, eyes owlish at Vi’s suggestion, request, whatever it was. “You’d like me to come on tour with you?”

Vi wasn’t sure if Cait was assigning more meaning to the question than she’d hoped, or if Cait was simply understanding the weight that Vi was too shy to ask it with. Either way, she was suddenly uncomfortable, attention turning towards the nearly empty plate of food in front of her, hoping for a distraction. “Yeah, if you want,” Vi added a shrug to make it all seem more casual, avoiding eye contact this time.

“Well, I’d—I’d love to,” Cait set her fork down. “But I can’t miss class, I’m afraid,” she sounded so apologetic Vi thought she might break. “I’d be happy to go to the shows in Piltover, though,” Cait was quick to add, perhaps reading Vi’s continued vacant stare down at her plate as disappointment. Maybe it was. “And even the one in Zaun, if you’d like.”

“You can always—,”

“Hi, I’m so sorry to interrupt—,”

Vi’s mouth snapped shut, attention turning to the woman standing next to their table who probably wasn’t actually that sorry to interrupt.

“—are you…you’re Vi, right? The singer?”

I’ve got pink fuckin hair and a neck tattoo, lady, who else would I be?

“She is,” Cait answered for her because Vi was taking too long. “And I’m sure she’d be happy to give you an autograph, but we’re in the middle of a conversation at the—,”

“Can I get a selfie?” the stranger asked, grinning—toothy and excited—at Vi, ignoring Caitlyn altogether. She already had her phone out, her camera on, leaning into Vi before she got an answer.

Vi’s eyes moved to Cait, watched her lean back in her chair, taking her wine glass with her, pointedly looking elsewhere as the woman took the picture, Vi offering a closed mouth, slightly strained smile into the camera.

“Oh my god, I love you,” the woman gushed, pulling back to admire the picture. “You’re so hot, like, even sexier in person.”

“Yeah, shorter too,” Vi responded, still watching Cait. “Cool to meet you, have a good night.” She kept her tone as flat as possible, trying to sound nice enough while making it clear that was where the conversation was supposed to end. This woman listened. They didn’t always.

Cait finished her wine, pouring herself another glass from the bottle on the table before she spoke. “You hear that a lot, don’t you?”

“What?” Vi couldn’t help her grin at the edge to Cait’s tone. “That I’m sexy?”

“She said she loves you.”

Vi’s expression froze.

“You must hear that every day,” Cait realized.

“I mean, yeah, but—,” Vi’s ears were hot. “She didn’t mean it. It’s just something people say to me because I’m—you know—Vi.”

“When I say it,” Cait ventured, leaning forward now, intent. “Is that how you hear it?”

Vi suddenly felt like she was on the witness stand being cross-examined. No—yes. She didn’t answer. Didn’t have a good one.

“Because that’s not how I mean it,” Cait clarified, filling up the silence. “I hate that you don’t believe me.”

Vi cleared her throat, wishing they weren’t continuing this conversation in public. The one that never truly stopped, that Vi could never fuckin quantify or find a solution to. “I believe that…” she tried to find the right words but she knew from experience she wouldn’t. “I believe that you believe you.”

“So, you think I’m lying to myself or that I’m lying to you, then?” Cait wondered. “Which is it?”

“I don’t think you’re lying to anybody,” Vi’s hand turned to a fist on her fork.

“To deconstruct your argument, then—you don’t believe I’m misrepresenting my feelings to either you or to myself…but you also don’t believe I truly mean them,” Cait’s eyes narrowed. “Which means you think I’m either stupid or emotionally inept.”

Vi shoveled the last of her dinner into her mouth. “I hate when you talk to me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re—I don’t know, a fuckin prosecutor.”

“And I hate when you invalidate the depth of my feelings because you believe you’re unworthy of them.”

Vi stopped chewing.

Cait didn’t blink.

“You’re being unfair.”

“I’m being honest and that’s difficult for you.”

Goddamn it.

“Caitlyn, let’s not—,”

“I love you, Violet,” Cait interrupted what was sure to be another mistake. “I’ll say it everyday for as long as you’ll have me. For as long as it takes you to believe it.”

/

Two weeks was a very long time to be away from Cait, it turned out. Like, a really shitty, torturously long time.

“Hey, let’s make some noise! I love every single person in this place tonight, I really do!” Vi shouted over the roar of the crowd, beaming, sweat dripping off her forehead. “My Mona Lisa, baby / my masterpiece, bae—,” she adjusted her earpiece, trying to hear herself over the noise. “When I’m in pieces, baby / you give me peace of mind / you tell me we’ll be fine / you always get me right / when it’s dark you’re my light…”

Vi sauntered to the front of the stage, one hand gripping the fabric of her own shirt at her chest, the other holding her microphone.

“Baby, that’s why I need you on the regular / and if it wasn’t you, no, it would never work—,” her eyes slipped close, preparing for the falsetto in the chorus. “Got me going out my way to show you what you’re worth / don’t go…”

She pressed her finger to her earpiece, fighting to get her breath control back, having it lost it somewhere in that last verse, lost it to…her own lyrics, the ones that were now beginning to take on meaning for her beyond words she sang into a microphone. Words that people sang back to her, that echoed in arenas and stadiums and theaters. “I put in the work to hear you say / misery missing your company—,”

The image of Cait in that dress in her bedroom was suddenly clearer than any picture they’d ever uploaded to Instagram.

“Do you think that’s true? That my misery is just down to you?”

“You’re miserable?”

“Yes.”

“I made you miserable,” it wasn’t a question.

“Yes,” Caitlyn answered anyway.

Vi blinked, willing herself back to the moment, having disassociated through half of the 2^nd verse—this moment, on stage with almost 20 thousand people screaming her name, her lyrics, wanting, needing demanding—her love, her attention, her energy.

“—she armed and dangerous / that long hair got me tangled up / you are my Topanga / stood your ground even when they aimed at us—,”

Vi registered Ekko dancing on stage behind her, preparing for their, at this point, seamless transition to the next song, reminding her this was her job. Vi was at work.

“—even though all that pain / none of it was in vain / and I’m proud of who you’ve become / hope you feel the same…”

Ekko took over on the next chorus, even though it wasn’t his song. People loved a mashup, that’s what they’d leaned by their 4^th show. One more before they were back home. One more night to grin and bear the separation anxiety Vi had somehow developed during the course of she and Cait’s non-relationship relationship.

“Don’t go…”

“Don’t go…”

They alternated on the outro, Ekko finally stepping in front of Vi to begin his song.

She felt the energy in the room change, felt it relax, the dancing shift from jumping to swaying.

“Yeah, I’d rather be a lover than a fighter / ‘cause all my life, I’ve been fighting—,”

“I wanna see some lighters in the air!” Vi instructed. “No actual fire, though,” she laughed. “Get your phones up there!”

“—And I never had someone to call my own, oh nah / I’m so used to sharing / love only left me alone / but now I’m one with the silence…”

Vi brought her microphone back to her lips to add the high harmony as Ekko sang.

“I found peace in your violence / can’t tell me there’s no point in trying—,”

She wondered if he really had. If this song was about Jinx like all the others. If there really was peace to find, somewhere in her violence.

“—I’m at one, and I’ve been quiet for too long…”

/

“That it for you? You tapping out?” Ekko asked as Vi stood, trapping probably too much money beneath her glass at the bar. “Midnight and the big, bad Vi is done, huh?”

Vi’s phone had been burning a hole in her pocket all night long, Cait’s “how was the show?” text somehow a major distraction. “I only seem big and bad because you’re like 5’7,” Vi mocked.

Ekko laughed. “Oh fuck, that’s cold. Last I checked, your sister doesn’t mind a short king. Your girlfriend either.”

Vi rolled her eyes. “Cait’s stupid tall, that doesn’t make me short. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Gym opens at 8am,” Ekko reminded her. “Down for bis and tris before we get to the airport?”

“You’ve got other muscles in your body, you know that, right?”

“Fuck you.”

Vi laughed. “Night, asshole.”

Ekko scoffed. “You kiss your millionaire with that mouth?”

Waving him off, Vi left the bar, stopping briefly to sign a few autographs outside in the cold before walking the block to their hotel, Cait on her mind the whole time.

The time difference meant Cait would just be waking up for her morning class if Vi texted her back now. She waited until she was safely back in her room, jacket and shoes tossed aside to open up their conversation thread.

The text was still waiting for her.

From: Cupcake; 8:14pm

How was the show?

Vi watched as her fingers tapped out:

I miss you.

That wasn’t even a response to the question, though, Christ.

She deleted it.

To: Cupcake; 12:21am

Good.

Vi pressed send.

Dumb.

One word? Really? Just ‘good’?

To: Cupcake; 12:21am

Was crazy packed. Guess Jayce sold it out.

From: Cupcake; 12:22am

Good morning 😊

Vi found herself immediately grinning like an idiot at the simple response.

To: Cupcake; 12:22am

Good morning to you, goodnight to me

From: Cupcake; 12:23am

I can make it a good night for you…

Butterflies took flight in Vi’s stomach, her heartrate picking up speed.

To: Cupcake; 12:23am

Ya?

From: Cupcake; 12:22am

Yes. I miss you.

To:

What do u miss?

From:

Just you. I miss…the way you smell.

To:

That it?

From:

Your hands.

To:

And?

From:

Your mouth.

To:

Where?

From:

On me.

To:

Show me.

From:

Vi…

To:

Show me, Cupcake. I miss u 2.

It was an agonizing 1 minute and 45 seconds before Cait’s reply came. An image.

Her face wasn’t in it, just her chest, clothed in Vi’s Sumprat Boxing t-shirt, the hem pushed up to expose one of her perfect tits, nipple already stiff.

Shit.

Vi was blushing like she hadn’t received literally thousands of pictures like this in her lifetime. More than a few from Cait.

To:

Cute

To:

Can I see more?

From:

Were you good?

The question catches Vi by surprise, even more surprising is the blush it inspires.

To:

Ya. Missed u 2.

Vi realized too late she’d already said that.

Cait didn’t seem to care.

From:

Is that what you want?

[image]

Vi swallowed at the picture. A wider angle this time, one that showed off Cait’s toned stomach and thighs in the soft morning light, shirt still pushed up to expose her breast, a pair of lacy underwear leaving just a little to the imagination.

To:

R u wet?

From:

Vi, it’s 7am.

She bit her lip to contain her grin.

To:

And? When’s class?

From:

Not until 9.

To:

Touch urself. I want u wet.

30 seconds later, another picture came through, an elegant hand dipping into her panties, Cait’s arousal obvious thanks to the dark stain below her fingers.

“Fuck,” Vi said out loud to her empty hotel room, pushing her own hand into her pants, feeling herself already similarly affected.

Typing with one hand proved difficult.

To:

have u been thinking about me?

From:

Nearly every night. Can I call you?

Vi didn’t hesitate to press the facetime icon, Cait answering the call nearly instantly despite the distance, her face flushed, expression that fuckin adorable mixture of hungry and shy that Vi was pretty much obsessed with by this point.

“Hello,” Cait greeted, hair splayed out in a halo around her head.

Fucking perfect.

“Hello yourself,” Vi laughed at the semi-stilted greeting. “You wanted a call?”

“Yes, I—well, it was becoming difficult to type.”

Vi’s stomach did a somersault at the implication. “Why?” she teased.

Cait turned her face into her pillow. “I think you know why.”

“I wanna hear you say it.”

“Because I was—because I was…touching myself, like you asked.”

“There’s my good girl,” Vi’s hand dipped into her briefs. “You can keep going, Cupcake, don’t let me stop you.”

“I was thinking…” Cait’s eyes flitted away from the camera. “I quite, um, liked taking your directions.”

“I’d like you to take a lot more than that.”

“You’re awful.”

Vi laughed to hide her own breathlessness.

“You look tired,” Cait smiled at her despite clearly fighting a certain distraction. “Would you like me to let you go? I know you’ve had a long day.”

Vi suddenly felt sick with affection. “I’m tired, but not that tired. Prop your phone up on something, you’re gonna need both hands.”

The camera jostled as Cait set her phone down on her bedside table, there was a dragging sound on wood and the camera was moving again, adjusting before finally steadying. “Does that—will this work?”

“Tilt me a little further down,” Vi instructed. “I want to see all of it.”

Cait did as she was told, shifting the phone slightly to give Vi a better view. “Better?”

“Yeah. Show me what you were doing before.”

“Oh, um…” Cait trailed her hand down her stomach, biting her lip before slipping her hand beneath the waistband of her panties. “I was just…” she trailed off, fingers moving in small circles beneath the fabric.

“You imagining I’m the one touching you?”

Cait nodded.

“You like it when I’m soft like that?”

“S-sometimes.”

“And other times?”

Cait’s eyes slipped closed, fingers circling just a little faster. “When you’re rough with me.”

Vi mirrored Cait’s speed on her own clit. “Can I tell you what I like?”

Cait nodded quickly, biting her lip.

“When you fuckin whine for me.” That inspired the exact sound Vi was hoping for. “I didn’t think you’d be dirty like this,” Vi admitted. “You’re so fuckin’ desperate for it all the time, so needy. Like right now, tell me how bad you want me.”

“So badly,” Cait whispered, eyebrows furrowing in concentration.

“Can’t stop thinking about me, huh?”

“No, I can’t, I need you.”

“Fuck yourself for me,” Vi told her. “Two fingers, I know you’re wet enough, I can hear it.”

There was that whine again, goddamn.

Cait dragged her ruined underwear down her thighs, pushing into herself with two fingers just like Vi had asked her to, back arching off the bed.

“Good girl,” Vi followed suit, filling herself, betraying her pleasure with a gasp and a groan she tried to stifle. But it was obvious Cait had heard her, blue eyes snapping open, turning to watch Vi on the screen. “You can start slow, that’s OK.”

Cait didn’t break eye contact as she began to thrust into herself, slow and deep at first, hips rocking gently in time with her fingers. “Vi…”

“Tell me, Cupcake, how does it feel when I fuck you?”

“Perfect, no one’s ever…no one’s ever fucked me like you before.”

Vi moaned, her own thrusts picking up speed now. “Faster. Fast and hard, I wanna make you scream. You’re mine.”

“My parents are—,”

“I don’t fucking care,” Vi cut her off. “I said scream and you’re gonna do what I fucking say.”

Cait sped up, her other hand rubbing at her clit again, phone’s microphone picking up the squelching sounds of her impossibly wet—, “Can I come? Please, baby, Violet, please can I—,”

“Come, Caitlyn,” Vi demanded, nearly at the precipice herself. “God, I need it, come for me.”

And Cait did, right on cue, her body clenching and arching against her thrusts, hand not quite stopping, fucking herself through it just like Vi would.

Vi slapped her hand over her own mouth as she finished, surprised by the strength of her orgasm, clenching and spasming around her fingers. She’d planned to tell Cait to take three, but…things got away from her.

They were both breathing heavily as they came down, Cait wearing that blissed out smile she got whenever she was thoroughly satisfied, Vi’s expression not far off.

Vi breathed in through her nose and out through her mouth, head resting back against the headboard, wiping her hand on her pantleg before brushing the now sticky hair from her forehead. She’d needed a shower anyway. She groaned when Cait sucked her own fingers clean.

“Fuck, Cupcake, you’re unreal.”

Cait grinned, turning onto her side and placing her hands beneath her head, gazing at Vi with a look of absolute and unadulterated affection. “I love you, Violet.”

“Love you too, Caitlyn.”

Cait froze, eyes wide, lips parted.

Oh, fuck.

Vi hung up.

Chapter Text

To: Cupcake; 12:52am

Bad connection I’ll call u later

/

“Who was fuckin’ with the Firelights?” Ekko prompted, laughing at the uproarious applause he got in response. “Oh yeah? Y’all ready for a throwback?” He grinned. “Saint Vi said she’d indulge me tonight, but…I don’t think you’re ready for this one. Somebody come to the floor,” Ekko smiled through the intro. “—feels like we’ve met before…”

“Somebody come get her, she’s dancin’ like a stripper—,” Vi sang into her headset, and judging by the scream even the first line elicited, the audience definitely hadn’t been ready…but certainly seemed willing. “Somebody come get her, she’s dancin’ like a stripper—,” a female backup dancer circled around her, handing Vi a prop vodka bottle before dragging her hand over Vi’s chest and down her thigh as she sunk to her knees. “Somebody come tip her, she’s dancin’ like a stripper—,” she grabbed the dancer’s face, looking down at her as the woman pushed Vi’s t-shirt up to reveal her abs. “Somebody come get her—,” Vi flicked the loose cap off the bottle, pouring the water they’d filled it with into the dancer’s waiting mouth, held open at the hinge of her jaw by Vi’s strong hands. “—she’s feelin’ all the liquor…”

/

From: Mel Medarda; 10:01pm

That was NOT on the setlist.

/

“I’d rather you tell me you didn’t mean it than continue to ignore me like this.”

Vi must have read the message 100 times by now, squinting at it through her drunken haze, the club lights changing the tint of her phone screen with each pulse of the base, purple then orange then blue, around and around, again and again.

“You gonna respond?” Ekko shouted over the music, nodding down at Vi’s phone.

Vi leaned forward to pick up the shot glass that still sat full in front of her. The one she probably shouldn’t take. She probably shouldn’t—

The liquid stung her tastebuds, but she was too far gone to wince. She shook her head to answer Ekko’s question.

“Put it away, then,” he said, squeezing her knee. “You’ll regret whatever you send in the morning, I promise.”

He was right.

She locked her phone.

“Last night out,” Ekko reminded her. “Then home at last.”

There was a woman sitting next to her, Vi realized. She couldn’t remember if she’d been invited or not, but she…looked nothing like Cait. Felt wrong when she leaned into her, spoke with the wrong accent.

“You were wonderful tonight…” The woman’s lips were on the shell of Vi’s ear…

“That was great!” Vi conjured Cait’s smile instantly. Her joy, her awe, her excitement—genuine and pure with an innocence that made Vi’s heart clench. “You two were incredible!”

Vi moved away from the other woman, slurring a “thank you”, stomach turning, skin too hot.

Ekko had been watching. “Hey, I’m sorry,” he leaned across Vi, speaking to the woman. “We’re just gonna party alone tonight, if that’s cool.”

“Are you sure?” she wondered, asking Vi, hand traveling up the inside of her thigh, breath ghosting over her neck, warm and—wrong.

“I’ve got a—there’s somebody who…” Vi was trying hard to organize her thoughts, find the words. “What’s your name?”

The woman smirked. “Does that really matter?”

Vi nodded, brushing a strand of blonde hair behind the woman’s ear. “You’re hot, but…I’ve...there’s this cupcake…I’d get in trouble…”

/

Sweat poured off Vi’s brow, matting her pink hair to her forehead. She was in that place beyond exertion, beyond pain, beyond feeling—muscles screaming, aching, pleading.

“Uh, thought we were doing sets of 12,” Ekko interrupted, somewhere between impressed and concerned. “Pretty sure that’s like 30.”

Vi hadn’t been counting, she realized. But he was right…probably. She’d passed 12 a long time ago. One more rep, making it a round 35, and she dropped the dumbbells.

Ekko cringed at the dirty look they got from the old man sitting on an exercise ball in the corner. “Sorry,” he apologized. “She’s working some shit out—demons, looks like.”

The man scowled at them before returning to whatever lewd pelvic circle things Vi’s lack of gym etiquette had interrupted.

Vi gulped down what was left of the BCAAs in her water bottle, pulling the hem of her tank top up to wipe the sweat from her flushed face. “You’re up,” she nodded at the dumbbells she’d discarded, plopping back on the bench behind her to wait her turn.

“Right, yeah, did you wanna maybe tell me what your problem is?” Ekko wondered, arms crossed over his chest. “You’ve been kinda all over the place.”

“You’re up,” Vi repeated, rather than respond to his question. “This routine’s all about tempo, we’re trying to keep rest periods short.”

Ekko rolled his eyes, bending down to pick up the weights and begin his set. “Something happen with your lady?”

“No,” Vi distracted herself by admiring her pump in the mirror. “She’s fine. What about yours?”

“What about mine?” Ekko gritted, finishing out his set with a grunt. “For real, Vi. You good?”

Vi suddenly remembered what made having friends—brothers in law, whatever Ekko was at this point—so annoying. “I shouldn’t have called her the other night. Long day, weird show…my head wasn’t right.”

“You guys fight?”

“No, that’s the problem.”

“You and Jinx, man,” Ekko shook his head, placing the weights down at his feet. “Gotta try like 50 keys to unlock a little emotional honesty, fuckin-a. Wanna explain how not fighting is a problem?”

Vi selected a heavier set of dumbells, nodding to the ones at Ekko’s feet as she prepared for her next set. “You can re-rack those.”

“How about you quit avoiding the question, She-Hulk?”

Now it was Vi’s turn to roll her eyes. “She loves me. Or, that’s what she keeps telling me, anyway. And the other night, I—,” she forced a harsh breath out of her nose on the 7^th rep. “I said it back.”

Ekko’s brow furrowed, though Vi tried not to focus on him. “You said you loved her?”

“Yeah. Because she said it to me.”

“But she’s been saying it to you.”

“Yeah, well, like I said,” Vi dropped the weights again, earning another scowl from the old man. “My head wasn’t right, I slipped up.”

“Slipped up because you didn’t mean it or because you didn’t want to mean it?”

“What are you, my fuckin therapist?”

“Your friend, Vi, that’s how this shit works.”

Fine. Vi closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath, gathering herself. “I don’t know,” Vi admitted, making some attempt at honesty. “I’ve never—I guess I’ve never loved anyone before. Not, like, romantically. Was always just me and Jinx, never really made space for anyone else. Now I’ve got this person who…” why is this so hard? “And Jinx, she’s—it’s been tough, figuring that shit out. Trying to integrate.”

“Yeah, she’s feeling the same thing,” Ekko revealed. “Jinx, I mean. Been a trip, having you back. Well, back. Guess the reunion was kind’ve a blip in the grand scheme of things. Barbell?”

“Curl bar, go light, we’re just doing a burnout.”

Ekko nodded, loading a few plates onto the bar in question. “That trauma bond, man. Fuckin oppressive. It’s funny, that’s just something we live with, you know? You two more than the rest, more than me, at least but…I don’t know—standing?”

Vi nodded.

He lifted the weight over his head. “They should call it Zaun Syndrome, that fucked up need to claw our way out no matter the cost, no matter who it leaves behind. That’s something your lady will never understand. Survival of the fittest is a concept to Pilties. For us? Shit. That’s just the reality. How many—mmph—reps?”

“Go to failure,” Vi intoned. “I didn’t—she thinks I left her behind?”

“I mean…didn’t you? Moved on to drier fuckin’ pastures, that’s for sure. It’s alright, she made some version of peace. Bandaged an open wound, can’t promise it healed right, but Silco helped her capitalize on the pain, turned it into a few great records and I still can’t stand the guy,” Ekko gritted out as he neared 20 reps. “Made it out, though. Me, you and Jinx. We did. And that whole more money, more problems thing? Bullshit. That was surviving, now we get to fuckin live.” He failed at 26. “There’s room in that, Vi. In living. Space to love more than one person. Me and Jinx are still working on it, I’ve had to be patient. Too patient, sometimes, probably. But she’s worth it, even if she’s broken, missing that piece that’s probably shaped a lot like you.”

Vi picked up the curl bar as soon as Ekko put it down, hurrying towards 30 reps.

“Seems like Cait’s patient too,” Ekko continued, watching Vi in the mirror, catching her eyes. “She probably thinks you’re worth it, probably trying her best to fill that empty space she sees inside you. Your vessel’s cracked at the bottom, though, like all us kids from Zaun. So, maybe it’s less about making more space and more about getting some duct tape, you know? Fuck,” he grinned, pleased with himself. “I should’a brought a notebook, feel like there’s a song in there.”

She failed at 31 reps.

/

From: Cupcake; 11:39am

Your avoidance has officially crossed into immaturity

Vi stared down at the most recent text message, that familiar sense of guilt and panic simultaneously sinking in her gut and rising in her throat, her unique cocktail of an emotional response completely fucking debilitating.

Cait was right, she was being immature and unfair and avoidant. She was hiding from her feelings. But wasn’t no response at all better than a bad one? Cait could respect that, right? Vi taking a step back, evaluating the situation with a level head? Unfortunately, Cait was probably reading Vi’s silence as a response in and of itself. A rebuke, most likely.

Fuck fuck fuck.

And the fact that this was the response she needed to send now was…yeah, not gonna work. Not gonna work. Vi needed to deal with one disaster at a time.

Vi closed out of her conversation with Cait, dialing Jayce instead.

He answered after two rings. “There’s my superstar!”

“You have to tell Cait she can’t come to the Zaun show,” Vi said immediately, before she could lose her edge.

“Uh…”

“Please?”

“I mean…” Jayce sounded beyond confused. “Weird that this is the first time I’ve ever heard you say the word please…”

“Jayce, come on, man.”

“Can I ask why?”

“Because you’re her friend and she likes you, for some reason.”

“No, not why am I—why don’t you want her there?”

“Because Ekko is bringing Jinx, and I can’t have them—,”

“Excuse me, what?” that was Mel’s voice in the background, some shuffling, crackling on the other end of the line, a chair scraping across the floor, maybe. “No, Vi, he is absolutely not bringing Jinx. We discussed this!”

“He said he cleared it with you guys.”

“Oh, did he now? Like he cleared your rather tasteless Come Get Her performance given the setting of Jinx’s Sleepover video? I’m sorry, does the surprise in my voice sound like an acting choice, Violet?”

Ekko chose that moment to board the jet, looking way too cool in his sunglasses, duffle slung over his shoulder, for the shitstorm he was walking into. “Let’s get home, I’m craving Jericho’s like a m—,”

“Is that him?” Mel asked, Vi had put her on speaker.

“Hey, what the fuck, man?” Vi demanded.

Ekko’s face fell immediately. “Am I in trouble?”

“You invited Jinx?”

“I miss her, been two weeks, damn,” Ekko complained, tossing his bag aside and plopping down in the seat across from Vi.

“Well, that’s heartbreaking, but she’s a liability, Ekko,” Mel told him. “You know that. We all agreed—,”

“No, we didn’t agree to shit, Mel.”

“Hey now,” Jayce’s voice cut through. “Ekko, we did have a conversation about this.”

“We’re playing Zaun! I’m not making her stay home so a Piltie can feel comfortable. I’m sorry, Vi. Obviously, I respect what you’re trying to do, but—,”

“It’s fine, I’m fine,” Vi wanted to put an end to this conversation as she could feel her animosity towards Ekko growing and she needed an ally right now, not another enemy. “I haven’t—Cait and I haven’t talked anyway, and—,”

“Do I even want to know the story behind that?” Mel wondered.

“Um…no,” Vi decided.

“I’ll tell you later,” Jayce assured.

Goddamn it.

“Caitlyn aside, Vi. We talked about this. You and Jinx need to be in a controlled environment the next time you meet.”

Vi wasn’t sure if her sudden and overwhelming need to see her sister again was because she craved distraction or because she missed her, craved a certain familial comfort that had been withheld for 6 genuinely horrible fucking years. Years she’d survived thanks to drugs and booze and sex—each vice a means of escape. Depriving herself of joy, of love, of a look in the mirror, a solitary moment of self-acceptance or understanding…

She’d deserved that, she figured. A fitting punishment—emptiness, solitude. A natural consequence of pushing everyone away. Of turning her back, of withholding, of not giving all of herself, her everything. She’d been selfish, she’d been—broken.

Meanwhile, however, Jinx had found love, whatever fraught version of it she and Ekko were living. Why had Jinx been allowed that kindness, after what she’d done? How was that fair? And what right did Vi have to be jealous over the sliver of happiness her sister had carved out for herself?

Vi hated this, this overwhelming sense of hurt, betrayal, confusion. Where were all these fucking emotions coming from? She missed Cait, she missed how she listened and how she held her, how she touched her, how she smiled, giggled, bit her lip, the way the lights in Vi’s bedroom reflected in her too blue eyes, her soft skin in the morning, her hand on Vi’s thigh… and Vi also missed the feeling of Powder in her own arms. Missed her role as protector, as older sister. Missed Powder’s joy and enthusiasm and optimism.

Getting Powder—Jinx back wouldn’t make her whole again. She understood that, understood whoever her sister was now, she’d have to meet her in that. Talk to her, rip herself open and rebuild. And maybe she’d never be ready, maybe this would always be painful and dysfunctional, maybe—fuck.

Vi was so sick of maybes, so ready for certainties.

Powder was back. She was Jinx, but she was back. Everything Vi had wanted for 6 years, all she’d hoped and dreamed for was finally within her grasp and she just…she needed to see her again. Even if it didn’t get them back on the right path right away, Cait was right. Vi was stuck.

“I’m ready, Mel—or maybe I’m not, I don’t know,” Vi reconsidered. “Ekko will help keep things under control, OK? We’ll figure it out. And Jayce, I’ll tell Cait, don’t worry about it.”

There was a silence on the other end of the phone, followed by a sigh. “I’ll make the arrangements.”

/

The pilot had told them take off was in 5 minutes.

That was enough time, right?

Definitely enough time to send a text. A phone call, though…she wasn’t sure about a phone call, but now that their reunion would be delayed (maybe indefinitely at this point), Vi craved the sound of Cait’s voice.

So she dialed, held her breath, rose from her seat to pace up and down the plane’s aisle.

Voicemail.

“You’ve reached the cellphone of Caitlyn Kiramman, please leave a message after the tone with any relevant information concerning your call, and I’ll give a ring back as soon as I can. Cheers!”

Cheers? Had her accent always been that strong?

Vi cleared her throat, waiting for the beep.

“Uh, hey…it’s…this is Vi,” she shut her eyes, pressing a closed fist against her forehead. “Was hoping you’d pick up, but…maybe you’re in class or something. Look, I…you can’t come to the Zaun show, sorry to switch up on you like this. Ekko already invited my sister, and we think…just probably better if I’m alone tonight.” She pursed her lips. This sucked. “Uh, OK, well…it’s been real, Cupcake. Love you.”

She spun around so fast it made her dizzy, eyes widening, Ekko mirroring her expression, nearly jumping to his feet.

What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck????

“Hang up!” Ekko frantically stage whispered.

Vi did, dropping her phone and cracking the screen in the process.

“Bro,” Ekko admonished.  

“Bro! The fuck just happened?!”

“Why are you asking me?!”

/

Vi still hadn’t received a call or a text from Cait by the time the plane touched down in Piltover, and it was an eight-hour flight. Cait’s longest class was 4 hours long, so…

She squinted at the cracked screen, switched her phone on and off airplane mode like 4 times, even restarted it completely.

Nothing.

Radio silence.

Awesome.

They had two hours until the show…one of which was supposed to be spent napping, but Vi couldn’t sleep. Way too much on her mind. She thought about masturbating, but that didn’t seem right. Thought about calling Cait again, but…desperate was the absolute last signal she wanted to send.

So she turned her focus to Jinx, leg bouncing rapidly once she swung them over the couch at the venue, the one she was supposed to be sleeping on.

She was gonna fuck this up.

She was.

It was inevitable. She was running solely on caffeine and anxiety at this point and it—

“Vi? You in here?” There was one knock before the door swung open, lights switched on, Jinx having invited herself inside. Her big blue eyes blinked, flitted around the space before landing on Vi in front of her, processing the information quickly. “You kinda look like shit.”

Vi’s own mind worked a little slower, the image of her sister, all long braids and pale, tattooed skin still jarring, a poorly edited cameo.

“Not used to touring,” was Vi’s excuse.

“Yeah, I can tell,” Jinx laughed—not that hard, mean sound from Babette’s this time. “There’s no way Come Get Her was on the setlist.”

“You the one that tattled?”

Jinx grinned. “I look like a snitch to you?”

This wasn’t the tone Vi had been expecting, the one she’d been gearing up for, losing sleep over. She hadn’t planned for direct eye contact, a wide, toothy smile…

Again, this wasn’t the Jinx that Caitlyn had met, this was Vi’s Jinx. This was…fake. A performance, a hallucination, maybe.

Or maybe not.

Maybe this was Jinx and Cait had simply brought out the worst in her. Maybe—

No, Vi. No more fucking maybes.

“I didn’t know you were coming,” Vi said, watching as Jinx stepped fully into the room, shutting the door behind her.

“I try not to miss his shows,” Jinx shrugged. “He doesn’t miss mine either.”

“And I just happened to be here?”

“No.”

Vi nodded. “You really hurt Cait; you know?”

Jinxed rolled her eyes. “Can we not make this about her?”

“You made it about her, Jinx. With that video. You brought her into this.”

“Oh, yeah, you guys seemed super hurt by all the attention. Wounded, I could tell.”

“I don’t want to fight with you.”

“Didn’t ask for a fight, Sis. Just popped in to tell ya to break a leg.”

Vi stood, took a step forward, Jinx remained, though her right shoulder dipped, posture slouching, eyes dropping. “Are you in love with Ekko?”

“I love him with the parts of me that can,” Jinx answered quickly, honestly.

“Same parts you love me with?”

Jinx looked up at her from beneath her bangs like this was a trick question. “Some of them.”

“And I can’t—I’m not allowed that? To love someone with the leftover parts?”

Jinx’s eyes flashed with that now familiar malice. “I’m not your keeper, Violet. Just the sister you didn’t fight for. Up to you how much is left over for the flavor of the week.”

/

“Feels so good to be back home, y’all have no idea,” Ekko pulled his microphone out of its stand, taking a preemptive victory lap around the stage. “We grew up around here, you guys know that?” There were an assortment of cheers and whistles in response. They knew. “Yeah, like 6 blocks from here. Lived in some dude’s attic,” he laughed, glancing over at Vi. “Her too, Vi and Jinx, Zaun’s homeless youth center, the place to be on a Friday night.”

Vi snorted into her microphone. “Place was always poppin’.”

“Always,” Ekko laughed again. “I’m so emotional about this, fuck. I’ve played Zaun before, but never like this. My man Jayce Talis hooked this up,” someone in the audience whistled. “Viktor, that you? He doesn’t have any other friends, so it must be.”

Now it was Vi’s turn to laugh.

“Anyway, I just spent two weeks away from my girl and maybe had a lil’ too much of Hennessy,” the instrumental began with a flute riff. “Just gotta tell you how I feel, look—you so fuckin’ precious when you smile / hit it from the back and drive you wild / girl, I lose myself up in those eyes / I just had to let you know you’re mine…”

The audience cheered, clapped, swooned, eating out of the palm of Ekko’s hand, hanging on every word like always. Like he could control time—this time, this space, this amphitheater. It was his, for the next two minutes, no question.

That was his magic.

“—hands on your body, I don’t wanna waste no time / feels like forever even if forever’s tonight / just lay with me / waste this night away with me / you’re mine, and I can’t look away, I just gotta say…”

 Vi understood it, the draw, the magnetism. He had a presence, an energy that made people listen. It was calming and confident but in a lead from behind type of way that made every word feel personal.

And he’d chosen Jinx.

For now, forever, whatever it was. Every word he’d put on paper for the last three years, every melody, every note…they were for her. He’d told Vi that. Swore by it.

“A muse will change your life,” he’d said. “Change your music, make it matter.”

Vi wanted to matter. It’s all she’d ever wanted, probably. To matter to someone, to mean something to somebody. To her parents, to Vander, to Powder, to every girl who’d ever whispered their desires against her skin, come around her fingers…

To Caitlyn.

I want to matter to—

Her mind returned to her body just in time, feet, blessedly, touching the ground. The cue came fast.

“I can’t write one song that’s not about you / can’t drink without thinkin’ about you / is it too late to tell you that / everything means nothing if I can’t have you—,” Vi’s vocals sounded crisp despite her exhaustion—a gift, her home crowd was not the one she wanted to disappoint.

“—But I might as well be in a hotel room / it doesn’t matter ‘cause I’m so consumed / spending all my nights reading texts from you…”

“Let’s go!” Ekko bounced to the music, raising his arms above his head, inspiring the audience to their feet.

“Oh, I’m good at keeping my distance / I know that you’re the feelin’ I’m missing / you know that I hate to admit it / but everything means nothin’ if I can’t have you—,”

As the energy in the room increased, feeding off itself, Vi began to slow down, her dancing mindless now, distracted…

She’d wandering back to the pitch meeting, Mel with her clever smile, Sky with her proud grin. Track 6. The plot twist. “So…all of my songs are written with one person in mind…”

Whatever they want from you, they’d said. The royal they. The people in this room who’d paid for the privilege, they were entitled to whatever fantasy they desired…

But Vi had a fantasy too, it turned out.

“I’m trying to move on / forget you, but I hold on / everything means nothing / everything means nothing—,”

When she closed her eyes, it was Cait she saw, on that phone call, head resting on her hands, gazing at Vi with that look of absolute and unadulterated affection.

Flavor of the week, Jinx had called her.

“—everything means nothing if I can’t have you—put your hands up! Clap for me!” Vi shouted.

I love you, Violet.

“I can’t write one song that’s not about you / can’t drink without thinking about you / is it too late to tell you that / everything means nothing if I can’t have you…”

I love you too, Caitlyn.

Chapter Text

“Shit—man, I’ve gotta…I’ve gotta go.”

Vi had never realized something with such startling clarity before, had never felt so suddenly unburdened—a fire like panic burning through her limbs, her veins, lighting each synapse with an alien euphoria. Something like relief, something like a shot of adrenaline mainlined into her heart, its beating made arhythmic.

“What, now?” Ekko seemed to be having a hard time discerning if this was a bit or not.

Vi yanked her earpiece out, no longer totally aware of her surroundings, explaining, “That’s the end of my set, you’ll have to ask Ekko for an encore,” to the nearly twelve thousand people still in attendance. “They’re about her, man. All of them. And she doesn’t—fuck.”

“Uh…” Ekko’s chuckle turned nervous. “You’re a whole mess right now, bro.”

“I’m—I think I’m in love.”

She gave him a pat on the shoulder as she jogged by, offering a quick two finger salute to the crowd before exiting the stage, sent off with a flurry of cheers and whistles and laugher…and probably still some confusion.

Vi had no idea what to do, no gameplan here. This was stupid, she realized that. But she—she just needed to—,

“Jayce!”

The idea of being this happy to see him was terrifying, but if anyone was gonna enable her bullshit…

“You have two more songs, Vi! What are you—,”

“I’ll make it up to them, I just need a ride home. I’ve gotta—I don’t know, change or take a shower or something, and then I need to find Cait.”

“Right now?”

“Yes, Jayce, right now! Do you have a car?”

“Well, yes…”

“Then let’s fucking go!”

She couldn’t believe he’d said yes, honestly. Couldn’t believe he’d let his headliner leave two songs early on the last show of the tour he’d planned so meticulously.

And yet…

Jayce’s car was sleek with way too much horsepower for his trips to and from the office but, when finally given an excuse, he still wasn’t driving nearly fast enough.

“Goddamn it, you’re going 30 in a 45, what the fuck’s the matter with you?” Vi demanded, leg bouncing in the passenger seat.

“I’m sorry, between us, who has the driver’s license?”

Vi rolled her eyes, forcing herself to slump back in the seat, thumb tapping rhythmically on her thigh, a ball of combustible nervous energy.

Jayce glanced over at her, looking somewhat concerned. “Cait wasn’t at the concert, so I assume you got a hold of her beforehand.”

Vi shook her head. “Left a voicemail.”

“A voicemail?”

“I’m gonna fix it.”

She was, right? There was still time? Still tolerance in Caitlyn’s saintly disposition for Vi’s failures, her shortcomings, her emotional impotence. All the tricks she’d learned to keep people away, to wall herself off, to keep herself safe. All the things that Cait had excused, ignored, looked past while Vi had dragged her feet, doing everything in her power to keep herself from this moment, this epiphany. Cait could forgive them again, couldn’t she? One last time.

Jayce pursed his lips, eyes on the road now, gripping the steering wheel tighter. “And if you can’t?”

Vi’s eyes flashed, anxiety spiking in her gut. “She say something to you?”

“No, I just…she’s been a good thing for you, and I’m…here, if it doesn’t go your way. Alright?”

Vi looked away, leg bouncing faster, focusing on the street names, the familiar landmarks as they approached her house, trying to find comfort somewhere.

Jayce reached a hand over and placed it on her knee, stilling it. “Hey. I know Cait, and I’m not worried,” he assured her. “As your manager, I just—,”

“There, that’s my place,” Vi pointed before taking her phone out of her pocket to open the gate. “Take a right.”

Jayce obeyed, putting his blinker on and turning slowly as the gate pulled back. “Do you need a ride to Cait’s afterward?” he asked, gliding smoothly up the driveway….

“No,” Vi realized, stilling at the sight of the Porsche parked in front of her house.

Cait’s Gentian Blue Panamera.

“Oh shit…” Jayce muttered as he pulled up beside it, the two of them having no trouble locating Caitlyn where she stood on the porch, arms crossed beneath the sconce near the front door. “Um, did you want me to stick around?”

“No,” Vi was distracted, grabbing blindly at the handle. “Thanks for the ride…” the metallic slam of the door echoed up the cobblestone drive.

She stood there for a moment in silence, briefly missing the relative safety of Jayce’s car, chest seizing, breath shortening. She soaked the sight of Cait in greedily—she was so beautiful, so striking in her dark jeans and leather jacket, shoulder length hair pulled back into a ponytail.

I missed her. Fuck, I missed her so much.

Vi felt ridiculous, like she was on the set of one of her stupid music videos. But what was the alternative? What was plan B? Had Vi, ever, in her life come up with one of those?  She couldn’t continue with this meaningless existence—this suspended emotional adolescence for the sake of pride or fear or a million other self-serving excuses. Jaded, empty, damned…that cracked, broken vessel Ekko had mentioned, held together by duct tape and chewing gum.

It wasn’t until Jayce finally pulled away that Vi took a step forward.

“Cait, listen—,”

“No, you listen, Vi,” Cait snapped, her arms wrenching from their crossed position, pointing an accusatory finger Vi’s way instead. “It’s been real, Cupcake? Love you? That’s the voicemail you choose to leave me after two days of absolute radio silence?!”

“I know, baby, I’m—,”

“Do not fucking call me that,” Cait’s blue eyes burned, complete combustion. “Why would you say that, Vi? Twice?! Why would you—,”

Vi was running now, across the cobblestones that separated them, up the porch steps in two leaping bounds. She barely had time to brace for her own impact as she wrapped her arms around Cait, face pressing into the crook of her neck, breathing her in as she held her slighter form fast against her, hands fisting in the leather of Cait’s jacket.

“Hi,” Vi murmured against her, waiting for Cait to return her embrace…which she eventually did, a learned behavior followed by tentative acceptance. “I came to find you; I was looking for you. Mel’s gonna be so pissed I left the show early, but I—here you are, you’re here. How long were you waiting for me?”

“That’s not important.”

Vi’s laugh was wet, feeling tears well up in her eyes as she moved back far enough to look at her. At the woman she loved.

“I’m so bad at this,” she admitted, hands slipping to Cait’s waist. “I know that, I—I have no idea what I’m doing. I can’t fix anything, can never say the right thing, can’t stop breaking your heart. I fuckin’ hate myself for it, Caitlyn. But I can’t—I can’t stop, have to keep dragging you back because the alternative is losing you altogether and I’m not fucking strong enough for that.”

“Vi…”

“Just please, wait, I’m trying,” Vi begged, fingers tightening, watching as the fire in Cait’s eyes found a new fuel source. “After what happened with Powder, I thought maybe I wasn’t built for love, because I loved one thing, one person and she…she broke in my hands and there was nothing I could do to piece it all back together but then you came into my life and I—God, all my stupid lyrics I’ve been mindlessly singing since I was 16 years old, they’re not—they mean something now, to me. Because you mean something to me. I was starving until I tasted you. I do need you to stay, I—fuck, I suck at this.”

Cait reached a gentle hand up to cup Vi’s cheek, wiping away the tear that fell with the pad of her thumb. “What is this, Vi?” she whispered, imploring.

“I love you.”

They stilled as the words left Vi’s mouth, some version of the calm before a storm, and Vi wasn’t sure what it meant, just knew those words to be true. Finally. And knew that Cait had heard her. There was no going back. She fought the urge to run.

“You love me.” There was a question in Cait’s repetition, an inherent distrust, but also hope.

“I’m scared, Cait.”

“You love me.”

“I can’t lose you.”

“You love me.”

“I’m so fucking sorry.”

“Violet?”

“I love you.”

The kiss was Caitlyn’s, and Vi returned it with a fervor she didn’t know herself to be capable of, a whining, heaving, vulnerable passion that terrified and thrilled her all at once.

“I love you too,” Cait breathed into her mouth, the words fanning the lick of a flame in Vi’s gut, filling her lungs with air. “I’m so in love with you. Please mean it, please don’t explain this away as some twisted fantasy.”

Vi pressed her forehead against Cait’s, hands moving to either side of her face, holding her there. “Have I ever lied to you?”

“Just once.”

“Never again.”

/

“My label’s gonna kill me, but I’ve got an empty mic up here and a very talented girlfriend.” The crowd reached a fever pitch when Jinx joined Ekko on stage. He smiled, offering a hand, taking hers. “This is for the streets that broke us. The ones we bled in, cried in. The ones that raised us, that got us here. We love you, Zaun.”

Jinx was already swaying to the music, one hand clasped around her microphone, the other held fast in Ekko’s. “On our way through the sky / we’re gon’ look down on tonight / when we die, you and I / two heartbreak soldiers—,”

/

Vi was pressed hard against the door, the wall, the dresser, Cait dominating the tempo, the emotion. Hands in Vi’s hair, around her neck, gripping her hips, squeezing, groping, pulling, taking, giving. Feeling, Vi realized. Unencumbered, both of them. Neither afraid of overstepping some invisible boundary, giving too much or too little.  

Cait’s mouth was ravenous, tongue sliding down the column of Vi’s throat, biting at the tattoo on her neck. Vi whimpered when she turned sensual, tracing the firm lines of Vi’s stomach muscles with the point and then flat of her tongue, on her knees between Vi’s legs, holding her firm against the dresser as Vi tried to buck into her.

Vi bit her lip as her belt was unclasped, leather pulled from its loops. She worked Cait’s hair out of her ponytail, silk spilling over Cait’s shoulders, Vi’s hands sliding into it at either side.

“Let me show you, Violet…I want you to feel it…”

“Please…”

“Say my name.”

“Caitlyn…”

/

“When you lay by my side / I see the whole world through your eyes / ride or die, you and I…”

/

Vi’s pleasure spread like tendrils from Cait’s tongue—growing, twisting, encroaching on something unreal, something meant for kinder, softer people. The deserving few, untouched by tragedy and heartbreak. They didn’t require duct tape, these people of Vi’s fantasies. Figments, really. And yet Caitlyn sat vigil at Vi’s altar, lapping and suckling, tongue plunging and beckoning…more…more…everything, all of it spilling into her mouth, Cait drinking eagerly.

Her legs shook with the strength of it, hands at the hinge of Cait’s jaw, holding her close, watching Cait’s eyes roll back in her head at the taste, the euphoria of Vi’s release, pleasure by osmosis, transference.

/

“Live or die / live or die / got you and I / got you tonight—,”

/

“You’re perfect, Cait,” Vi pressed inside of her, two fingers thrusting, curling, expertly coaxing each whine, whimper, and moan from Caitlyn’s elegant throat. “So good for me, so beautiful.”

Cait’s hands fought for purchase on Vi’s broad shoulders, digging into the muscle there, grasping, squeezing. “Say it, please, Vi, say—,”

“I love you, Caitlyn,” Vi licked into her open mouth, swallowing the moan the words elicited, breathing in her gasp at the spike of pleasure, groaning herself at how Cait’s crescendo pulsed around her fingers, dripping into her hand.

/

Ekko’s lips were pressed close to the microphone, hand falling from Jinx’s grasp as he paced the length of the stage. “—Came from a broken home/ parents never saw it / now I’m livin’ all alone, taking care of us all, yeah / flashes in my face, I guess that’s what you get with all this fame / just because they say you gang, does not mean that you really gang / weather changes with my mood, it never really stays the same / and one plus one is two, and without you I think I’d go insane / and what you think? Pause, let it sink in / they threw me in and now I’m drowning in the deep end / if I’m religious, you’re the one I believe in / you’ve been here with me to help me fight all my demons—,”

/

Caitlyn wrapped her arm around Vi’s waist as she sat up, holding her close, driving into Vi with slow, deep, pulsing thrusts, Vi’s hand on Cait’s elbow, guiding her, hips rolling in time.

“I’d never hurt you,” Cait whispered against the shell of Vi’s ear, Vi shivering at the sensation, sinking down further onto Cait’s fingers. “Never. You can trust me, I promise.”

“I know,” Vi blinked the tears from her eyes. “You make me feel so good, Cupcake.”

“You deserve it, Violet,” she sucked a bruise into the tattoo on Vi’s neck. “Thank you for this, thank you for letting me love you.”

Vi’s voice had gone hoarse by this point, but she breathed out an “I love you,” as Cait’s fingers brought her closer to the edge, curling harder now, Vi straining with the effort, jaw clenching, muscles tightening, hissing through her teeth with each labored breath.

“Let go, baby,” Cait murmured, nuzzling against the side of her face. “I’ve got you…”

/

“To live or die, what’s the price on life? / if there ain’t no price tag, I might take it right / if I hit it from the back, I might just take it twice / rest in peace to everyone that we lost in life…”

Jinx joined him with a haunting falsetto, their harmonies long since mastered. “I just wanna run away / I just wanna run away / I just wanna run away, yeah, ay / with you, baby…”

/

A foreign stillness had settled into Vi’s limbs along with Cait’s bodyweight. She lay sprawled over Vi, completely bare, hair swept to the side, bruised, bite marked skin covered in the thin sheen of sweat they’d worked up together.

The rough pad of Vi’s guitar calloused finger traced the protruding ridge of Cait’s spine, Cait’s head resting on the chest muscle obvious above Vi’s breast.

Vi was sure she’d never felt such a holistic calm, comfort. This slack-jawed version of herself completely unfamiliar. Cait had rubbed the tension from her muscles, soothing their knots with firm fingers and soft lips. And so Vi lay boneless, eyes heavy, each blink lasting longer than the one before it.

Despite the bliss, the exhaustion, there was a part of Vi that fought to stay awake—afraid she’d wake up next to a stranger, alarm clock blaring at her from her bedside table, 14 phone numbers written on the notepad beside it.

“When did you know?” Vi wondered aloud, suddenly desperate to remain here once she felt Cait’s breathing grow rhythmic against her.

Cait hummed, nuzzling against Vi’s chest, pressing a kiss to her sternum. “That I was in love?”

“Yeah.”

“Would you like my honest answer?”

Vi nodded, eyes slipping fully closed.

“Backstage, at the show with Jinx,” Cait revealed, thumb stroking at Vi’s ribs. “You looked just as happy to see me as you did performing, and you…the way you held me, kissed me…I suppose that’s why I was so wounded when you called me a friend, because it had been so obvious to me only seconds prior, and then it was gone, just like that. My fantasy shattered in one word.”

“Cait, I’m so—,”

“You weren’t ready,” she cut off Vi’s apology. “But you’re here now, aren’t you?”

Vi pressed a kiss to the top of Cait’s head. “Yeah, I’m here.”

“Worth it, then. I came here with an ultimatum.”

“Oh?” Vi chuckled.

“Don’t laugh,” Cait flicked her stomach. “You were in a heap of trouble.”

“A heap?”

“Indeed.”

“And now?”

“Too dreamy to hold a grudge against, I’m afraid. Though, perhaps the spell will wear off come midnight. I’m rather unpracticed with fairytales.”

“Fairytales, huh?”

Cait twisted, chin resting on her hand now, looking up at her. “Feels like one, don’t you think?”

Vi took Cait’s free hand, raising it to her lips, pressing a kiss to her fingers. “You’ll be here in the morning?”

Cait nodded with absolute confidence, unwavering. “Can you make me the same promise?”

“Yes,” Vi confirmed, voice shakier, threading their fingers together. “I mean, I’ve gotta train in the morning, but—,”

Cait laughed. “That’s not what I meant, my love.”

Vi’s breath hitched at the affectionate language, thighs pressing together. Cait took notice.

“Did you like that?” she grinned.

Vi bit her lip, looking away. “Yeah, guess so.”

“Would you like me to remember that for another time? Or…”

“I mean, if you—yeah.”

Cait rose up onto her elbows, placing a soft kiss against Vi’s swollen lips. “Noted.”

“Can I just—is it alright if I just hold you, for now?” Vi asked, embarrassed by her sentence midway through. “I’ve never really…” she wasn’t sure how to phrase it, this need for touch, connection, devoid of the give and take that sex implied. “I want to keep you.”

That wasn’t the right thing, it wasn’t what she’d meant, it—

“OK,” Cait murmured against her lips, eyes closed, smile warm. “Have me, then.”  

Chapter Text

“Vi—Violet, baby…”

Vi startled awake at the hand squeezing her shoulder, the lips pressed to her skin. “Shit—fuck, what—,” she rubbed her face less than gently, trying to clear the sleep away as she twisted into a sitting position, suddenly on high alert. “What time is it?”

That hand was squeezing her wrist now, grounding her. “It’s fine, we have nowhere to be, remember? You were dreaming, is all.”

“Oh,” Vi blinked, took a deep breath, struggled to find her bearings. “Sorry, I—did I wake you up?”

Cait shook her head, still naked from the night before, the sheet slipping down her chest as she sat up, leaned forward, hand tracing up Vi’s arm, shoulder…coming to rest on her chest above where her heart beat. “No need to apologize, I’d been watching you for a while.” Her face flushed when she realized what she’d said, hand retracting completely. “Um, I mean, not in a strange way, just…you looked peaceful, at first, and very—very pretty, so I—,”

Vi kissed her, slow and warm, realizing morning kisses were a delicacy she’d never allowed herself and wondering how she’d survived this long without them. “Just admit it, you’ve got a big lesbian crush on me.”

Cait huffed out a laugh. “You’ll never be able to prove it.”

“Oh no?” Vi raised a scarred eyebrow. “Should I get the scrapbook out?”

“The scrapbook’s not even the worst of it,” Cait admitted. “You should have seen my browser history.”

“God,” Vi cackled. “Do I even want to know?”

“Absolutely not, and even if you did, it’d never tell. Some things are meant to stay between a 16-year-old and the laptop she had in high school.”

“Well shit, now I’m curious,” Vi pushed Cait onto her back, crawling over her, peppering her face and neck with chaste kisses just because she could, because it felt good and normal and natural and Vi loved it so much. “Dirty stuff? Or like, Vi kissing women?”

Cait’s hand found its way to the back of Vi’s neck, playing with the short hairs there. “A mix of both, I suppose.”

“Really?” Vi was beyond intrigued, propping herself up on both elbows, laying between Cait’s legs. “Like, dirtier shit than we’ve actually done?”

“I plead the fifth.”

“So you’re freaky, freaky, huh, Kiramman?” Vi laughed. “Too bad I already did the whole I wrote you 365 letters, thing. Guess I didn’t know what I was getting myself into.”

Cait’s expression was somewhere between teasing and incredulous, features somehow more beguiling in the soft morning sunlight. “Oh, I think you knew. Think you mentioned it the other night on our video call that’s now fruit of the poisoned tree.”

“Are we heading towards heap of trouble territory?”

“I’ll give you a choice,” Cait proposed, nipping playfully at Vi’s bottom lip. “Either you tell me what went on in the two days you failed to text me back, or you tell me what your dream was about.”

Vi ducked her head into Cait’s neck, a toxic cocktail of embarrassment and anxiety mixing in her gut. “Is there a third option? Like, maybe I can make you squirt again, then you take a nap while I train?”

Cait swallowed, her throat bobbing beneath Vi’s lips. “I could, perhaps, add that item to the docket.” Vi noted the blush that spread down her neck. “But, as someone who loves you, who’s…loved by you…I’d like to know your demons.”

“You already know them…” Vi mumbled, not able to look at her.

“Do you dream about the accident?”

“The crash,” Vi corrected, harsher than she’d meant to. “Wasn’t an accident.”

Cait was quiet for a moment, like she was formulating the correct response. “You’re right,” she eventually decided. “The crash. Did you—is that what you dream about?”

“Not always,” Vi admitted. “Or sometimes it’s not the crash itself but the…the moments after…the red and blue reflecting in the oil on the asphalt, the sirens, the flashlight in my eyes…”

“And this morning?”

Vi’s brow furrowed, struggling to remember the specifics. “You were there, and…Jinx…and Silco and Vander and your mom and Mel…it was like...a tea party, but at a conference table. We were, like, tied to the chairs—all of us. Except Jinx. She was proposing the flavor of the week.”

Cait shifted beneath her. “How odd…”

“Yeah, I don’t know, usually I dream memories. Guess I was still thinking about what she said to me yesterday.”

“What did she say?”

Vi pushed herself back onto her elbows. “I performed, went to the gym, drank and partied in the two days I didn’t text you. Just needed a second to figure everything out. I swear I wasn’t trying to hurt you, I just…I kinda freaked, for a second there.”

“Yes, I noticed.”

“Thank you for waiting for me.”

“My patience was on life support.”

“Well, thanks for not pulling the plug, then, I—I think I just…” this wasn’t going to come out right. “I’m so used to being used that I—that’s the only way I can understand this, you know?” she gestured between them. “Powder and me, it was…unconditional, but since then it’s only—it’s all been transactional. From me too, you know? I use people, I—,”

“I know,” Cait soothed, reaching up to brush the back of her hand across the freckles on Vi’s cheek. “I know that’s who you’ve been, but I don’t believe that’s who you are. And my love is unconditional if you’re able to accept it. But I won’t be used—by you, by Mel, by Jayce or Jinx or by my mother…I have to matter more than that, in order for this to work. That was the ultimatum I sat on your porch for two hours waiting to deliver last night.”

Vi felt her heart clench at the strength in Cait’s expression, the confidence. “I understand,” she nodded solemnly. “But, I don’t know if that’s totally true.”

Cait tilted her head in a silent question, brow furrowing.

“Sometimes you kinda like being used,” Vi reminded her, biting back her grin. “Like when you let me keep fucking you with the strap after you—,”

“Alright, that’s it! To the gym with you, I need to take a shower.”

“A cold one? Because you’re thinking about being my little fuck d—,”

“Violet!”

“Is that what was in your search history?”

“I take it back; I take it all back. I now have a condition for my love.”

Vi belly laughed before rolling off her, muscles flexing with the effort. “If your mother only knew…”

Cait volleyed a pillow Vi’s direction.

/

The conference call from Mel and Jayce was inevitable. The means of apology was decided quickly, with little fanfare or admonishment. A slap on the wrist, in the grand scheme of things.

Vi could hear the grin in Jayce’s voice when he asked if Cait was still there, Vi confirmed, and Cait got a phone call as soon as Vi’s ended.

“Hello?” Cait answered, her face spreading with that adorably goofy grin immediately after. “Would you stop,” she rolled her eyes, standing from her spot on the couch, phone pressed to her ear as she retreated to Vi’s bedroom to continue her conversation in private. “Oh, wouldn’t you like to know?”

/

From: Mel Medarda; 5:07pm

Please explain to me how one can me late to their own livestream?

To: Mel Medarda; 5:07pm

Oh my god I’m WORKING ON IT

From: Mel Medarda; 5:08pm

Need I remind you this is supposed to be an apology to fans for leaving the concert they paid for early?

To: Mel Medarda; 5:08pm

Do I have to hold the button the whole fucking time?

From: Mel Medarda; 5:08pm

No, just slide your finger and set it on the tripod

To: Mel Medarda; 5:09pm

That work?

From: Mel Medarda; 5:09pm

Yes! Now please say something!

“Uh, hey—hi everybody, thanks for…can you guys hear me?” Vi wondered after she’d secured her phone to the tripod, enabling the front facing camera. “This is the first time I’ve ever done one of these things alone, so…doubt it’ll be smooth sailing…” she leaned forward in the armchair they’d set up in the kitchen to read the messages pouring in on screen. “OK, sweet, you can hear me. That’s step one, I guess. Is your girlfriend th—,” she read aloud. “Yeah, she’s studying,” she nodded, indicating Cait where she sat off camera, wearing one of Vi’s oversized hoodies and not much else. If the public had been interested in Cait before, they were obsessed now. “Got the whole library spread out on my kitchen island. What’s she st—2^nd year law. Yeah,” Vi laughed at the responses. “Had to secure that bag for when y’all stop streaming my album.” The support was immediate. “Aye, that means a lot, for real. Anyway…” Vi twisted, grabbing her guitar from where it was propped against the side of her chair. “I owe everybody an apology for dipping early the other night. Just had some shit I needed to get off my chest, and—fuck, can I say shit on—,”

“Vi.” Cait scolded, managing to not look up from her textbook.

“My bad—I don’t know if there’s—can somebody edit this?”

@mmedarda you cannot, it’s live

Vi cringed, immediately picking Mel’s comment from the crowd.

“Imma just stop talking, probably for the best,” she strummed a few chords on the guitar. “I’ve never done this acoustic before, and it’s like…my cringiest song, so—shit, probably wasn’t supposed to say that either…fu—I mean, screw it, we’ll see how it goes,” Vi laughed, a little self-conscious as she cleared her throat. “Kitchen’s got the best acoustics in the house, so…pray for me…” she began with a few drumbeats on the guitar’s body, closing her eyes as she sang, “Your body’s like an ocean / I’m devoted / to explore you / what do you desire? / I’m inspired / I’ll do it for you…”

She dropped the upstroke from her strum pattern for the bridge.

“Won’t you draw a map for me? / laced with strawberries / and I’ll get on my knees…”

Vi’s eyes opened at the sound of shuffling paper. She glanced up to find Cait watching her from the island, textbook forgotten. Vi smirked at her blush, obvious even from this distance. Really? That’s all it takes, Cupcake?

“Put my hands around you / ooh, teach me how to / touch you, tease, caress you and please you / teach me how to love—,” Vi focused back on the camera lens, providing the eye contact she’d promised Mel she would. Trying to make it feel special and intimate for everyone tuning in, but Cait was being awfully distracting, twirling a strand of hair around her finger like that, teeth biting down on her lower lip.

“Babe, I won’t stop til you feel the rush / babe I won’t stop til you feel the rush…”

Cait had the guitar by its neck, pulling it away from Vi’s grasp as soon as she’d played the last note.

“Cupcake, what are y—,”

Cait sunk down into her lap, hand cupping Vi’s jaw, the other pulling the beanie cap off her head to thread through her hair.

@visyummyyummy do they know the camera’s still on?

@vistansunite shhh…just sit here very quietly…

@powderkegownsthispussy CUPCAKE??? I JUST GOT PREGNANT

“Baby, there are like eight thousand people on this live stream,” Vi laughed into the kiss.

Cait froze on top of her. “How many?” her phone buzzed where she’d abandoned it on the counter. “I’m…I should assume that’s from Mel?”

“Yeah,” Vi chuckled, Cait clutching her tighter as Vi pitched them forward so that she could sign off. “Sorry, guys, we’ll do this again sometime, I promise.”

@powderkegownsthispussy no, wait! We don’t mind!

/

It turned out, dating Cait, loving Cait, whatever this thing had turned out to be…was a lot easier than Vi had anticipated. Actually, it was pretty similar to what they’d already been doing, but with feelings she could say out loud and…labels. It made Vi angry in a way she couldn’t explain. She wasn’t sure at who, honestly. Vi, herself, was probably the best candidate. Why had she spent so long torturing herself? Why had she let herself be used when she could have been loved? Had she always been deserving of a happiness like this? Was she even deserving now? Who told me I was nothing if she always knew I could be something? And why did I believe them over her? She didn’t mind the labels, really. Not when they were assigned by Cait.

Girlfriend.

She liked that one. Had a formality to it that felt like ownership, like possession. But not like a collar around her neck, not like a leash, more like…a comfort. Like a gentle caress of her cheek, a hand trailing up her thigh in a darkened room.

“It’s a trip, man, I’ve been single—,”

“Well, sleeping around,” Mylo corrected with a laugh.

“Whatever, man, enjoying life, what do you want from me?”

“No, no, carry on,” Mylo was trying hard to reign it in. “Sorry, go ahead, I totally believe you.”

“You good?”

“Yep, I promise. Continue, please, this is riveting stuff.”

“You’re such an asshole,” Vi laughed. “You can bleep that, right?”

“Nah, I’m tryna get you canceled.”

“Anyway, now I get dressed in the morning and my girlfriend’s shit takes up half my closet, I’m tripping over her shoes in the middle of the floor, I accidently used her toothbrush the other morning. My cabinets have actual food in them now, like, not just whey powder but stuff you have to go grocery shopping for.”

“Sounds like quite the cursed existence.”

“It’s bliss, man.”

Baby.

That one felt soft, kinda casual, in a weird way. Like they were characters on a Friday night sitcom. Domestic. It was also hot, whined and whimpered against skin, pillows, shower tiles…

“Baby, yes, deeper please, oh my—please, baby, god…”

Vi suddenly drew the strap out completely, the length spilling a thick strand of Cait’s arousal onto the bedsheets. Before Cait’s look of absolute betrayal could manifest itself into words, Vi had grabbed her by the hips and lifted, manhandling her off her back and forcing her onto all fours, guiding one of Cait’s hands onto the headboard to brace herself as Vi found her pulsing center and slid back inside, giving Cait everything she’d been begging for. All of it at once.

“This how you want it?” Vi soothed a hand down her spine, making sure each stroke filled her completely, pressed as far into her depths as the length would allow.

“Hard—harder, please, baby. I can—I can take it, I need—mm—ah!” Cait lurched with the force of each thrust. “Yes, just like that, oh, oh!”

Vi groaned, watching Cait’s back flex with the effort of receiving. She scratched blunt nails down to Cait’s hips, pulling her back each time she pressed forward. “Good girl, Cupcake. You take me so w—,”

“Come inside me, Vi, I want you to come inside me I want you to—,”

Vi’s rhythm puttered out, unable to stop herself from laughing. “Sorry, what was that?”

Cait’s head twisted back to look at her, eyes betraying her panic. “What—what did I say? I—shit, I said that out loud, didn’t I. Oh, how mortifying, I didn’t mean it like—,”

“Quiet,” Vi wiggled her hips, bottoming out. Cait bit her lip at the sensation. “You’re busy, remember?”

Darling.

Vi had heard that one often between the Kirammans. Just like “love”, it was platonic in a distinctly British way that would have made any version of Vi before this one, before Cait, laugh. “Shall we brunch, darling?” Vi hadn’t been aware brunch could be used as a verb. She also hadn’t been aware she and Cait were already married and expecting grandchildren. That freaked her out a little, that familiarity, how effortless Cait seemed with all this—practiced while Vi sort of stumbled alongside her, hoping to land on her feet. Love felt like a foreign language she was maybe conversational in, but not fluent. Like Vi was google translating a committed relationship. But then Cait would say something else that made her sound like an old lady and ok, yeah, Vi was still going to laugh. What a fuckin dweeb.

“Cait?”

“Mm…yes, my darling?” she hadn’t looked up from her laptop—hadn’t, for like 3 hours by this point.

“I’ve gotta head into the office.”

“That’s fine…” Cait took a sip of her 4pm cappuccino, courtesy of the fancy coffee machine she’d had installed in Vi’s kitchen. “I have a while left on this anyway,” Vi watched as her eyes scanned rapidly from side to side. “Were you still interested in attending that club opening with Ekko?”

“Yeah, I mean…said I’d perform, so…”

“I can be ready by 9.”

“Um, my sister’s gonna be there, just a heads up.”

At that, Cait finally looked up. “Good. I’m looking forward to being introduced as more than a friend this time.”

Cait could be the strangest mix of mature and childlike—blushing at a compliment, biting her lip bashfully when they held hands…while later climbing onto Vi’s lap after her class let out, whispering how desperately she’d needed her mouth, her fingers, her cock, how it had riled her to distraction all throughout the poor professors lecture. How wet she already was from just the fantasies she’d allowed to dominate her attention while—,

“Shit,” Mel cursed under her breath at the announcement, yanking Vi from her thoughts. “Shit, shit, shit.”

Vi shifted on the couch, subtly adjusting the pants her daydreaming had made uncomfortable. “Bad news?”

Mel sighed, locking her phone, tossing it down on the coffee table beside her. “No, it was inevitable, I suppose.”

“She get nominated?”

“Yes. Pop video of the year.”

“And did—did I get nominated?”

“Yes,” Mel rubbed her temple, eyes slipping closed. “Same category.”

“Oh…”

“Jinx is a very visual performer,” Jayce jumped in like that information was helpful. “We expected a music video nomination, doesn’t change our gameplan, right? Eyes on the prize. Piltie nominations don’t come out until next week.”

“Indeed,” Mel acquiesced. “I was just hoping Vi’s little I think I’m in love stunt would finally get us out of this Jinx related news cycle completely. Seems that was naïve of me, I didn’t realize your sister was a fucking hydra, Vi. Are you bringing Cait?”

“I mean, I haven’t asked her yet, but yeah, kinda just assumed…”

“Imagine the split screen,” Mel lamented.

“Makes for great television.”

“Potentially disastrous television.”

“Is there a better kind?”

“We’re trying to win her a Piltie, Jayce, not sell a Real Sisters of Zaun reality show.”

Jayce and Mel stopped to stare at each other…before both reached for their phones simultaneously.

“Write that—,”

“I’m writing that down.”

“—down.”

“Are you guys in love?” Vi asked suddenly, having tuned out like 90% of that conversation.

Both stilled again, Mel blinking, Jayce gaping.

“Uh…”

“In a manner of speaking,” Mel recovered first. “Isn’t exactly the whirlwind romance you and Caitlyn seem to be experiencing, but…I believe I’ve found my person. Why do you ask?”

Vi immediately felt dumb and vulnerable and uncomfortable, and she was the one who’d brought it up. “Sorry, that was—forget it, weird question.”

“It doesn’t look the same for everyone,” Mel cautiously answered what she must have assumed the original question to be. “We’re taught from an early age that love is something you emulate, but not everyone is so lucky to be surrounded by it every day. I certainly wasn’t, and Jayce was raised by a single mother. We learned to love in our own image. There’s power in that discovery, I think. No matter how daunting.”

Jayce nodded his head in apparent agreement. “So you and Cait…things are going well? We didn’t get much of a chance to talk after I dropped you off. I’ve heard from Cait, but she tends to…romanticize things. Relationships especially.”

Vi tried to ignore the pang of jealously those words inspired. The implication that Cait had been with other women, fucked them, let herself be fucked by them. That she’d introduced them to her family and to Jayce, been in love with them, maybe. Mine. “Uh, yeah, things are going…I’m happy, I guess. I don’t—I can’t, like—I want to trust it, you know? I want to trust her, but it just feels so…fuck,” Vi pressed the heels of her palms into her eye sockets. “I’m gonna fuck this up.”

“That’s a self-fulfilling prophecy you’ve just written,” Mel warned. “Careful not to stand in your own way, Vi. Especially when there are plenty of people in your life, in this world who’d be happy to do it for you. You can’t afford to be your own worst enemy anymore. We can’t afford it.”

Chapter Text

“—fell in love with Bella / Bella, Bella, Bella / Como telenovela / Bella, Bella, Bella—,”

The club was already packed when Vi and Cait arrived, an upward nod at the bouncer all Vi needed to get them through the door.

“Oh my god, it’s Vi!” a woman shouted from the line of people waiting for (hoping for) entrance.

“Yo, Vi!”

Cameras flashed.

“Will you sign my tit?”

Vi gripped Cait’s hand tighter, giving a non-specific salute to the strangers screaming at her.

“I love you!”

“—I fell in love with Bella and Stella / I met her at Coachella—,”

The energy inside the club was electric, Ekko shirtless on stage, Calvin Klein briefs visible above the waistband of his black jeans. He had the same endorsement deal Vi did, Jayce understanding how to capitalize on their appeal.

“—she was looking hella stellar / so you know I had to nail her / Bella, ella, ella, eh / she got ice up in her veins / been herself ain’t never changed / I can’t let her walk away—,”

Vi slipped her hand from Cait’s grasp and snaked it around her waist, pulling her close to ask, “You want a drink?”

Cait nodded.

“—‘cause if you didn’t know, I’m the man ‘round town / but she the one who holds me down / barkin’ like a big dog, she came on top / her boyfriend probably hate me now—,”

Vi pressed a kiss to Cait’s cheek, hand squeezing her waist…and then her ass (a little more subtly) as she pulled away. “Don’t go anywhere,” she instructed with a grin, starting off towards the bar after a wink that made Cait blush.

The bar was packed, but…celebrity really did have its perks.

“What’s the drink tonight?” Vi asked, unable to discern the promotional menu thanks to the multi-colored strobe lights that pulsed in time with Ekko’s performance.

“VIPs are drinking Shimmer tonight,” the bartender told her. “On the house, of course.”

“She nice, she nice, she nice, you know / she icy, pricey, feisty, woah / I see potential in your soul / so come with me, let’s get it on…”

Vi took hold of the two purple drinks that were slid her way, the liquid seeming to glow in the club’s technicolored atmosphere.

“—Bella too freaky for me / she got that ziki on me / and I be like, woah / why she so sneaky on me? / that body too cheeky for me…”

She made it back to Cait just as Ekko’s song ended, the crowd around them cheering before the DJ took over. Ekko must have spotted them at some point during his performance, because once the generic club track began to play over the speakers, he pulled the microphone back to his lips to say, “We got Vi in the house, y’all, looking so fine!”

Vi laughed, Cait smiled, ducking her head into the shoulder of Vi’s bomber jacket.

“I’ll let her finish her drink before I drag her ass up here,” Ekko assured. “In the meantime…”

Jinx hopped up on stage, knowing her cue. “You make me sound like a consolation prize, baby, that hurts.”

Ekko offered his hands up to claim innocence, stepping back away from the microphone so that Jinx could adjust it.

“Plus, Vi’s old news,” Jinx claimed with a wicked grin. “My muse is here, you guys. The Princess of Piltover herself. Miss Caitlyn Kiramman’s about to earn me a big, fat, shiny trophy for the music video her fucking primo titties inspired.”

Vi stiffened, stomach dropping, fist clenching. And Jinx wasn’t looking at Cait, despite what she was saying, she was looking at Vi…because this had nothing to do with Cait, not really.

Still, when Vi glanced over at her girlfriend, she found she’d flushed completely red—no longer in the cute, bashful sense, now genuinely mortified.

“Oh, stop it, Caity, let’s not pretend we’re shy now,” Jinx seemed just as aware of Cait’s reaction, despite having the stage lights in her face. “I know my sister, after all, never was vanilla. So chill, we’re all friends here, right guys?”

That inspired cheers and laugher, wandering eyes knowing exactly where to find them now.

Cait’s eyes fell to her own cleavage like she was suddenly unsure of her dress choice, feeling exposed now, silly.

It broke Vi’s heart.

“Hey,” Vi turned from the stage, taking Cait’s face in her hands as Jinx’s song began.

“Stupid boy think that I need him / I go cold like changing seasons / I go red hot like a demon / I go ghost for no damn reason / stupid boy think that I need him—,”

“You look beautiful tonight, I love this dress,” Vi said, Cait finally dragging her eyes up to look at her. “And your tits are primo, remember? She’s not saying anything new, she’s just—,”

“Being an asshole,” Cait finished for her.

“Yeah,” Vi agreed. “Yeah, she is. So don’t hide, OK?”

“—pleasing, season, I’m spicy / hot to touch, too much, too pricey / heathen, I’m in your psyche, you don’t know no one else like me—,”

Cait’s eyes darted from left to right. “People are staring at me.”

“Good, let them,” Vi leaned closer, lips dragging slowly across her jawline, from Cait’s chin to her ear. “Let them see what they can’t have. I want them to see what’s all…mine….”

“—I know you think about me in the shower / Pornhub in your browser / fantasize about the pussy power—,”

“Yours,” Cait pressed a hand to Vi’s chest, blue eyes hooded beneath dark lashes.

“Think about me with your hand down your trousers—,”

“Yeah, so people are gonna look, right?” Vi smiled, holding the hand still resting on her chest. “That’s what we signed up for. But this…” she dragged the cold, moist cocktail glass up Cait’s leg with her other hand, teasing the bottom of her already short dress.

“—I know you’re salivating over me, sir / nipples through the t-shirt—,”

“…is just for us,” Vi assured. “No matter how many people are looking.”

“—told your mommy that you’re bringing home a keeper / knees are getting weaker when you hear me through the speaker—,”

Cait let a smile slip, that fucking delicious stretch of her lips between shy and hungry that Vi always wanted to lick off her face, doe-eyes flashing with something indescribably naughty. “I love you,” she said, eyes falling briefly to Vi’s lips before landing on her chest. She slipped her hand higher, twisting her index finger in the thin silver chain Vi wore around her neck, sparkling against her black t-shirt. “And I can think of a number of things I’d like to do tonight to prove it.”

Vi grinned, having to wait until the air returned to her lungs before she could speak. “Me first, Cupcake.”

Jinx’s song ended and Vi downed the rest of her drink—shit, that’s strong—, rolling her neck from side to side, bringing her shoulder to her ear to release the tension that always seemed to settle there before she performed.

“I showed you mine, Sis,” Jinx teased from the stage.

Vi took that as a challenge, taking Cait’s hand again and walking her through the crowd towards the stage, dropping it just before she hopped up to join Jinx and Ekko, leaving Cait to smile apprehensively up at her, pointedly avoiding Jinx’s gaze. Luckily, Jinx was also more focused on Vi.

“Welcome to The Last Drop,” Ekko was smiling proudly, arms wide, eliciting a chorus of whistles and whoops from the people on the dance floor. “Sick, right?”

“Unreal, man,” Vi returned his enthusiasm, pulling him in by the heel of his palm, clapping a hand on his back as he returned the gesture.

Jinx waited patiently for her turn, hands clasped behind her back until Vi and Ekko separated, then Jinx launched herself into Vi’s embrace, squeezing her like she never intended to let go.

Vi closed her eyes, forgetting for a moment—all of it, everything. Just enjoying the feeling of her baby sister in her arms, her—,”

“So cupcake’s the flavor, huh?” Jinx’s words slithered into her ear. “Is it like funfetti or birthday cake?”

Vi’s eyes flew open, although she was careful not to push Jinx away, knowing that interaction would easily make page 6 the next day. Instead, she separated slowly, calmly, hands squeezing Jinx’s wrists before letting go. “Take a seat,” she instructed quietly, away from the live microphone. “We’re going to talk later.”

Jinx’s wry smile was empty, lifeless. “You’re not threatening me, are you?”

Vi’s stomach acid curdled at the insinuation. “Jinx, listen to me—no matter what, I’d never hurt you on purpose. Do you understand me?”

There was the fire, there was the pain. “Except for that one time, right, sis?”

Vi blinked, but this was neither the time nor the place, Ekko realized that, at least, gently guiding Jinx off stage as Vi’s music began—piano, a sudden departure from the pulsing, electronic nature of the performances before hers.

That one time…

She heard the smack echo down the empty highway, watched the saliva fly from Powder’s mouth—

But there wasn’t time. She wasn’t there.

She was on stage, hundreds of eyes trained on her.

Cait’s eyes, blinking up at her, the bite of her lip a silent encouragement.

Vi tilted the mic stand towards her. “Yeah, it makes me wanna cry / don’t know what to do / it’s so hard, but it’s true / everybody wants a piece…”

That’s when the bass kicked in, dance floor bouncing to the rhythm.

“I get reckless, I’m obsessive / I’m pathetic and possessive / you’re so sure it makes me insecure—,”

She made sure to find Cait then. Her audience of one, everything for her. Every word, Every note.

“—You’re majestic, mesmerizing / light the room up without trying / baby, I’m so into you it hurts…ah-ah-ah—,” she slipped the jacket from her shoulders when there were no words to sing, tossing it somewhere behind her. “—It just isn’t fair / what you put in the air / I don’t wanna share—,” Vi licked her lips before the chorus, watching the uneven rise and fall of Cait’s chest. “Everybody wants a piece of you / I get jealous, but who wouldn’t when you look like you do? / from the second you walked in the room / my night is ruined / everybody wants a piece—1, 2, 3…”

Vi had just enough time before the next verse to reach down, offering her hand to Cait so she could lift her on stage. Cait visibly shook as she obliged, but Vi didn’t give her time to second guess anything, pulling the microphone from it’s stand and standing behind Cait, wrapping an arm around her waist—mine—singing into her ear, smiling at the cat calls from the dance floor.

“So do I, maybe I’m selfish / Just one touch is so electric / every little thing you do feels right…” she dragged her hand from her hip to her stomach, fingers splaying nearly the span of Cait’s trim waist. “I’m sorry if I get protective / need these girls to get the message / you know I’m yours, I know you’re mine…”

Grinning through the chorus, Vi encouraged Cait to grind her ass back against her, mimicking the movements from the dancefloor beneath, the atmosphere growing hot, dank…

“—I get jealous, but who wouldn’t when you look like you do?—,”

Cait’s skin burned beneath Vi’s fingers as she found her thigh again, dragging upwards, Cait reaching behind her to tangle in Vi’s hair, keeping her pressed close as they moved with the music.

“—It’s so hard, but it’s true / everybody wants a piece…”

The kiss Vi received after she finished her last note was so fucking hot and wet and needy Vi nearly took Cait right there…but the vocal audience reaction encouraged cooler heads to prevail.

Briefly, it crossed Vi’s mind how proud of her Mel would be for having the self-control not to fuck her girlfriend in front of a club full of people…until she realized that was more a basic human decency thing and less a significant achievement.

/

Cait was a bit of a lightweight, so after two more Shimmers, she’d passed tipsy. But fuck, she could be such a fun drunk. Giggly and handsy and so goddamn horny it was making Vi’s sorta already spinning head, well…spin.

“So, Ekko really owns this place?”

“Mhm,” Vi nodded, pressing a kiss to Cait’s neck. “Turns out his adopted dad knew my first manager. I guess they used to hang here back when this place was a dive bar, so Ekko bought it when the building came up for sale and opened this place.”

Cait nodded, trying her best to process this information through her drunken haze. “If Ekko owns it, does he have an office or something? Somewhere we could…” she leaned impossibly closer, tracing her finger up the inseam of Vi’s pants. “…mmm…be alone? Mayb—,”

Naturally, that was when Jinx decided to approach them. “If you just came to hang out with your girlfriend, you could’a stayed home.”

Vi pulled her lips away from Cait’s neck like she’d been burned, Cait’s own retreat a little more sluggish.

“It’s really good to see you, Jinx,” Cait was the one who ultimately responded. “In person, I mean. I get to see you grinding on my lap every time I turn on MTV, of course. Great form, by the way.”

Jinx’s eyebrows bounced nearly to her hairline before she recovered, adjusting her stance. “Hey, thanks! That really means a lot,” her condescending smile made Vi nauseous. “You’d be the authority, obviously.”

“On lap dances?” Cait tilted her head in mock deliberation. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever performed one of those. Though I did sleep with a member of the dance team on occasion back in college. Although, she was a bit more flexible than you, judging by the video.”

Vi’s mouth fell open, Jinx kept hers resolutely closed.

“Cute,” Jinx eventually decided, her attention back on Vi now. “Hope she’s not your designated driver tonight, she sounds trashed.”

“I’d still make a better one than you,” Cait took it upon herself to respond, Vi’s blood running cold in her veins. “Do you have a notepad with you? You may want to write this down, it’s sage advice, really,” she leaned closer to Jinx, taking the younger woman’s slim wrist in her long fingers. “Your tires are to remain on the road, hitting trees is how people get hurt.”

Vi froze, Jinx froze…Cait smiled like the cat who’d eaten the canary, leaning back and releasing Jinx to take another sip of her drink.

“Cait…” Vi spoke first, tears gathering in the eyes of both sisters.

“Why would she—why did she say that?”

“Jinx, she didn’t—,”

“You almost fucking kill me and you bring your girlfriend here to rub it in my face?!” Jinx spat, eyes wide with horror, taking a step back. “What the fuck is the matter with her?”

Vi stood, pushing aside her confusion to take a step towards her sister, the urge to sooth her stress an automatic response, even after all this time. “She’s drunk, she didn’t mean to—,”

“Maybe you could take some responsibility, Jinx?” Cait suggested, not deterred in the slightest. “Vi’s failure to be the perfect parent at 18 years old doesn’t give you license to attempt a murder suicide.”

Fury flashed through Jinx’s features, and even despite the loud music, the people around them were beginning to take notice. “Is that what Vi told you happened? She made me the fucking villain in that story!?”

Ekko stepped in as Vi and Cait glanced at each other in silent question. “Hey, hey, hey, let’s take a deep breath, let’s—,”

“Is that what you’ve been telling people?” Jinx snarled, fully in Vi’s face at this point, despite Ekko trying to keep them apart. “Is that why she doesn’t see you for the fucking monster you are? Because she doesn’t know you were fucking wasted over some whore? I needed your help and you got behind the fucking wheel and you—you—does she know what you did? Where you sent me? Where you—,”

“Jinx.”

A shiver shot up Vi’s spine at the sound of that voice…the rich and commanding alto that haunted Vi’s fucking—

Sevika’s hand was on Jinx’s shoulder, towering above her, pulling her back away from Vi, back in line.

“These women, they don’t come here for you,” Sevika had a hand on Vi’s jaw, forcing her gaze upwards. “They want on the bus, Vi. Doesn’t matter how they get there. Your name just happens to be painted on the side…for now.”

Vi stumbled backwards out of her memory, chest heaving, suddenly claustrophobic in the packed club.

“And look at you…” Sevika said, eyes trailing away from Jinx once she’d bullied her into silence, finding Vi, lips curling into a smirk. “Still punching above your weight, I see.”

“Fuck you,” Vi spat upwards into Sevika’s face, causing the older woman to snarl, hand tightening around her neck, nearly lifting her from her feet.

“Believe me…” she dragged Vi closer to her, Vi’s toes scraping against the ground, scrabbling for purchase. “That little slut begged me to.”

“Excuse me,” Caitlyn was standing between them now, steadier on her feet than Vi expected her to be, drawing herself up to her full height, eye to eye with Sevika thanks to her heels. “You’re interrupting a rather valuable conversation, and I don’t appreciate how you’re handling her,” she indicated the hand still on Jinx’s shoulder.

“Caitlyn Kiramman…” Sevika grinned, lips pulling back from her teeth. “How’d you manage to land this one, Vi?”

Vi regretted it as soon as her fist connected with Sevika’s jaw. As soon as she registered the horror on Cait and Ekko’s faces. As soon as the back of Sevika’s hand stung her cheek. A fucking bitch slap that was more embarrassing than painful.

“Still pathetic,” Sevika laughed, working her jaw, pushing Jinx in Ekko’s direction, communicating it was time for them to go. Before she followed them into the back room, however, she took a business card out of her jacket pocket, handing it to Caitlyn. “Call me anytime, Cupcake. Be a shame for you to waste all your…assets, on her.”

Chapter Text

“That’s being taken out of context.”

“No, I don’t think it is, actually,” Mel slammed the tablet down in front of her, pressing ‘play’ on the video frozen on screen.

Vi instantly cringed at the TMZ watermark, watching herself throw the punch but averting her eyes before Sevika landed her blow, her ears growing hot with embarrassment. “I get the point.”

“I’m not sure you do,” Mel fished her phone out of her purse, thrusting it in front of Vi’s face. “Here it is in GIF form.”

Again, Vi looked away, feeling ashamed, like a puppy who’d ripped up their owner’s couch while they were away. “She had it coming.”

“Vi…” Cassandra’s voice was more consolatory, less accusing but…disappointed. So, like, 10 times worse. “That may well be, but we can’t lash out with physical violence in public places. Certainly not in this day and age, when everyone has a high-definition camera at their disposal.”

“But I—I stopped,” Vi tried again to defend herself. “I could have followed her. That would have been worse, right? At least I—I stopped. I did, I stopped. Shouldn’t I get some credit for that?”

Mel took a moment to collect herself before speaking. “Violet, you’re a 24-year-old woman with the eyes of the world on you. I’m sorry, but we’re not going to pat you on the back for only punching a woman in the face when you could have savagely beaten her. It’s embarrassing regardless of the severity of the attack.”

“I was fucking—I was defending Cait!” Vi was beside herself, standing up now, dropping the bag of frozen peas she’d been holding to her face. “She was—Sevika was disrespecting her!”

“Disrespecting Caitlyn or disrespecting your claim to her?” Mel wondered.

Vi’s face flushed instantly at the accusation, suddenly wanting to be anywhere but in a room with Cait’s mother.

“Never mind that, for now,” Cassandra said before Vi could even try to sputter out a response. “I may not know everything about your time with Zaun Recording House, but I’m sure you suffered a multitude of abuses the public isn’t aware of. We’ll move past this transgression together, but it cannot, and I mean can not happen again. Have I made myself clear?”

Vi was trying her best to steady her breathing, keep it to a predictable rhythm. “Yeah.”

“Good,” Cassandra’s smile was tight, eyes cold but…understanding, somehow. “As for my daughter…I raised Caitlyn to advocate for herself, did she fail to do so?”

“Well, no, but—,”

“Then you’ve answered Ms. Medarda’s question.”

“We’ll be making some changes to your choreography for Sunday,” Mel announced, taking the reins again. “As embracing your less than perfect public rehabilitation is the only way forward.”

“What, uh,” Vi cleared her throat. “What kind of changes?”

/

Cait had let herself in at some point that night, after the fight Vi said they weren’t having, after tears had been shed over lines crossed and privilege betrayed. After Vi had spent a full day at the rehearsal studio, perfecting updates to a routine she’d already spent a week on, hating every fucking second.

She’d ignored Cait’s 3^rd apology text before failing into bed, still dressed in the sports bra and sweats she’d rehearsed in. Not out of malice as much as exhaustion, both physical and emotional.

From: Cupcake; 9:07pm

Weaponizing your trauma was not my intention. I was inebriated and grasped at the one thing I knew could truly hurt her. But why did she stick by the official story? Even when it became clear I knew the truth?

From: Cupcake; 9:11pm

That is the truth, right, Violet? She was driving.

It was around 1am when Vi stirred enough to realize she wasn’t alone, that Cait had slipped into bed beside her, arm thrown around Vi’s waist, bouquet of flowers on her nightstand.

Vi let her eyes slip closed again.

She remembered the shoes she was wearing. Retro, high top Jordan 1s. Patent bred. Black and red. Vi loved those shoes, and she’d never worn them again, not after that night. Not after they were splattered with her blood, Powder’s blood, motor oil…

Not after she’d stood in the doorway like those fucking shoes were filled with cement. Not after she’d watched…heard…

She was bouncing on Sevika’s lap, moaning louder than she ever had with Vi, whining, begging, whimpering…screaming as she came.

Sevika had noticed her a good 30 seconds earlier, eyes locking onto Vi’s as she made the woman on her lap come apart. Smirking at her like she’d meant it to hurt.

And it had. It did.

“Stand up if you can, sweetheart,” Sevika encouraged. And when the woman turned it was different than her memory, it was—she was Caitlyn.

Vi sat up with a gasp, heart hammering, drenched in sweat—panic fueling her frantic glances around her darkened bedroom.

Not a bus, not the bus not the bus not the bus.

Vi wasn’t 18 anymore. And that wasn’t—

Cait mumbled something from where she lay, still sleeping, blindly reaching across the mattress to the space Vi had abandoned.

“Fuck,” Vi whispered, embarrassed by the fucking resentment she still held, after all this time, all this heartbreak and tragedy and…

That she was still so wounded by it, that—ugh.

She pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes, trying to stop her shoulders from shaking. When that didn’t work, she stood up, tucking the sheets tighter around Caitlyn’s sleeping form before grabbing a pair of socks and some sneakers from her closet and leaving the bedroom altogether.

Vi flicked the lights on in her gym, closing the door behind her and approaching the heavy bag with zero hesitation or warm up.

No gloves. 

Not a single coherent thought in her head.

Just the image of Sevika with that woman on her lap.

The one she’d kissed, laughed with, fucked. The one who’d had her personal phone number, even though Silco had said that was against the rules.

Vi’s jabs were merciless.

It didn’t take long for the image to shift, the woman’s face to morph.

“Call me anytime, Cupcake…”

Her hook nearly knocked the bag off its chain.

“Be a shame for you to waste all your…assets, on her…”

Vi felt a knuckle split with her uppercut.

“Still pathetic.”

Blood splattered the training mat at her feet, ripped from her exposed knuckles with each powerful blow she landed.

“What are you—Vi, stop! Stop it!”

She could feel Sevika’s hand on her jaw, dwarfed in her grip, scrabbling for—

“Violet!”

The lights above her flashed and Vi blinked, coming back to herself, punches slowing, chest heaving, posture stiffening.

“Baby, oh goodness, your hands…”

A soft touch trailed from her shoulders, down her arms, her wrists…Cait’s form solid behind her, breath on her neck, presence comforting even as Vi jumped at the sudden contact.

“Darling, it’s the middle of the night, what are you doing out here?”

Vi shook her head, unable to find the right words, the words in general. “I wanted—I needed to train.”

“At three in the morning? And without gloves?” Cait questioned. When Vi didn’t respond, Cait circled around her until they were face to face, never letting go. “Vi, you’ve made a mess of your hands. Mel’s…” she stopped short of chastising further, searching Vi’s face for her attention. “Are you alright?”

Vi nodded. Wasn’t sure if it was true, exactly, but she had been, right? Lately, she’d been better. Before Caitlyn and Jinx, before Sevika…with just Cait, when things had been simple for a moment, she’d been alright.

She wanted to be alright.

“Where do you keep your first aid kit?”

“Bathroom,” Vi mumbled.

“OK, let’s—come with me,” Cait placed a kiss on her forehead, taking her by the wrist to lead her there. Vi followed obediently. “In here?” Cait asked, bending down to open a cabinet below the vanity as Vi sat down on the edge of the bathtub.

“Yeah, to the right.”

Cait found the kit soon enough, crossing the room to kneel between Vi’s legs, opening the kit and wordlessly taking one of Vi’s hand, examining the torn skin before disinfecting it, dabbing at the hydrogen peroxide as it subtly bubbled.

“Sorry, I—did I wake you up?”

Glancing up at her, Cait pursed her lips before responding, brow furrowing briefly in an expression Vi couldn’t quite read. “Not when you got up.”

“Oh, could you—you didn’t hear me in the gym, did you?”

“No,” Cait avoided eye contact altogether now, wrapping the hand in a clean sheet of gauze before attending to the other. “I reached for you; the bed was empty. You were gone. It…reminded me of before.”

Guilt roiled in Vi’s stomach, in some ways a welcome reprieve from the storm of emotions she’d been weathering before. “My bad.”

“It’s fine,” Cait sat back on her heels once she’d finished bandaging the 2^nd hand. “We didn’t get a chance to properly debrief, after all. I assumed there would be some animosity, I just…I had hoped you would give me the chance to apologize in person. I brought flowers, which—,”

“Saw those.”

“—seems silly now…right.”

“Ekko said he’s not allowed to talk to me.”

“On whose orders?”

Vi shrugged. “Jinx, Sevika, Silco…who knows. You saw how he followed them into the back, Ekko might not be under contract, but I’m sure they’ve fed him all the same bullshit about me.”

Cait nodded, brows pulling together in recollection. “He didn’t seem confused by Jinx’s version of events…do you think—perhaps she never told him the truth? When you were on tour, that never came up?”

“No, it’s not something I—you’re the only person who knows what really happened, besides me, Silco, Sevika and…Jinx.”

“I’m—Violet, I’m so sorry I brought it up like that, I—,”

“You’re sorry, I know,” Vi looked away, unable to stomach more of Cait’s repentance, the shame written on her face. “I’ll get over it, I just—,”

“I feel as though I’ve lost a portion of your trust.”

You have, Vi realized. For what you said to Jinx, and for—

“Do you still have her card?”

“What?”

“Sevika’s card, did you keep it?”

“I did.”

“Are you gonna call her?”

Cait blinked. “Call—am I going to call Sevika?”

Vi nodded, flexing her hand, testing the wrap to distract herself.

“No…” Cait answered slowly. “It’s in my mother’s possession now, in case legal avenues are pursued by either party. Are you—why are you asking me that?”

Vi shrugged, trying to appear non-committal. “Just wondered.”

Cait laughed then; the sound almost cruel. “You’re unbelievable. How that scenario could even cross your mind after—,”

“You’re mine, right?” Vi interrupted, knowing the answer, but feeling a prick of fear at the top of her spine anyway, remembering Sevika’s smirk, the woman’s stammering apology.

Cait stopped, raising an eyebrow, its arch more incredulous than curious. You won’t use me, Violet, it said. You won’t. “I’ve quite literally never wanted to belong to anyone else, Violet.”

I will, but only in the way you like.

“Prove it,” Vi’s brain had yet to catch up with her mouth. But she wasn’t about to double back, so she repeated the words, tasting them on her tongue. “Prove it.”

“How can I—have I not—,”

“Right now,” Vi placed her hands on the side of the tub next to her, widening her stance, spreading her legs.

A blush colored Cait’s cheek, quickly spreading down her neck and disappearing beneath the buttons of the flannel she’d borrowed from Vi. Without a word, Cait reached forward, grasping the waistband of Vi’s sweats and—,

“No,” Vi batted her hands away. “Show me how wet you can get for me.”

“Vi—,”

“Show me what you wanted me to do to you on stage, show me how you wanted me to fuck you with all those people watching.”

Vi’s stomach clenched at the whimper Cait tried to swallow down, stomach muscles quivering, which Cait seemed to take note of as well, her eyes trailing over Vi’s sports bra and down her stomach, licking her lips as she let her legs slide a little further apart on the bathroom tile.

Oh, shit…

“Are you wearing any underwear?”

Cait shook her head, hand sliding down her own chest, reaching between her legs, her exact movements hidden by the long flannel, though Vi could make an educated guess on where she’d touched herself based on the way she bit her lip.

“Why not?” Vi wondered, her tone almost innocent, almost genuinely inquisitive.

“I was hoping you’d—well, we were fighting, and—I thought perhaps you’d wake up and we’d—,” her breathing changed, speeding up with the motion of her hand.

“We’d what? Have make-up sex?”

Cait nodded rapidly, closing her eyes and somehow blushing an even darker shade of red. “It was stupid, what I said was—,”

“Open your eyes,” Vi commanded. “Look at me—what, are you picturing someone else?”

At those words, Cait’s eyes flew open. “Never!”

“Never?” Vi pressed, sitting forward. “Not once?”

“No, even—all the women I’ve ever been with, I’ve—it’s always you I picture, and when I’m alone I—,”

“Unbutton your shirt,” Vi stopped her babbling, Cait was quick to obey, her normally nimble fingers trembling and fumbling over nearly every button. Vi thought about helping her, thought about reaching down to rip it the rest of the way…but she liked that flannel, and she especially liked it on Cait. “Good,” she praised once the task was finally complete, Cait unable to hide her smile at the kind word.

I love you, Vi thought, relieved.

And then, you’re mine.

Vi’s gaze raked up and down Cait’s body, from her shy, expectant smile, down her flushed neck, over her breasts, her quivering stomach, down to the neat patch of dark hair between her legs. Vi’s mouth watered, literally. Is it normal to physically drool over your girlfriend? Vi wondered, idly…maybe if your girlfriend is Caitlyn Kiramman.

“Spread yourself for me,” Vi instructed, attempting to regain her composure. “Show me.”

Cait did as she was told, using her index and middle finger to spread apart her folds, biting her lip to look sheepishly back up at Vi.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” Vi said, heart pounding with more affection than she thought possible. “Fuck, baby…”

“Caitlyn Kiramman,” Sevika grinned. “How’d you manage to land this one, Vi?”

“Do you love me?”

“Yes,” Cait answered immediately, sliding her index finger down to her entrance, gathering some slick that had collected there before trailing back to her exposed clit, her gaze locked on to Vi. “I’m all yours, I promise.”

“And what about that?” Vi asked, nodding towards the apex of her thighs. “Who does that belong to?”

Cait’s fingers began to rub tight circles over her clit. Through a moan, she answered, “Oh god, baby, I’m so—you make me so wet; can’t you see how badly I want you? You can take me however you’d like—I wish you’d—,”

“Fuck yourself first.”

Again, Caitlyn was eager to follow instructions, miles past an attempt at modesty, and when she entered herself with two fingers, that’s when the dam broke.

“God fucking damn it,” Vi cursed her lack of restraint, shoving herself off the bathtub and onto her feet before yanking Cait up to a standing position as well, dipping to sling the taller woman over her shoulder, inspiring a delighted squeal from Cait as she was carried out of the bathroom and into the bedroom.

Cait giggled as she was dropped onto the bed, though the breath was stolen from her lungs when Vi followed her down, crawling between her legs and immediately picking up where she’d left off, two fingers deep. “Ah—Vi!” she slapped a hand over her mouth to quiet what were nearly screams at this point.

Vi purposefully sped her pace, wanting to hear more. “No, baby, louder,” she scolded. “I want to hear what I do to you.”

Cait tore the hand away from her mouth with considerable effort, eyes wide as she took—her body wet and greedy, wordlessly moaning her apology, her promise. Yours, yours, yours. Until she was close, Vi could feel it in the way her walls clenched around her fingers—three, by this point.

“Did you still want me to—,” Vi felt her confidence falter slightly, though the image of Sevika had long since been wiped from her mind, replaced by this one—Caitlyn on her back, thoroughly fucked and so obviously in love—“Maybe I can finish on you ‘cause I can’t—,”

“Yes, please,” Cait grabbed her by the back of the head, dragging her down for a wet, open-mouthed kiss, Vi using every muscle in her core to keep herself suspended over Cait as she continued fucking her, bringing her own hips forward and rubbing hard at her clit until—

“Oh, fuck, baby…” Vi groaned at her release, feeling herself drip onto Cait’s lower stomach, onto her quivering—,

“Vi!” Cait’s eyes rolled back, her mouth fell open, back arched, clamping down so hard Vi was briefly afraid for her already injured hand. 

Worth it, obviously, come what may. 

This, Vi realized as they came down together, Cait’s hands tangling in Vi’s hair, pulling her in for another kiss, tears in her eyes from the pure intensity of her orgasm, felt a lot fucking better than that punch she’d landed in the club. A lot better than splitting her knuckles on the heavy bag. Admittedly, a rather lewd form of self-care, but Vi found she didn’t really give a shit because this, with the woman she loved, it didn’t feel like a coping mechanism anymore. This was a shared lexicon.

The doubt that hid in the dark corners of Vi’s mind, the 18-year-old still cemented to that spot in the open doorway, eyes wide with horror, watching as something that had given her hope was ripped away…Vi felt her leave, then, with Cait in her arms, smiling up at her with all the love a human being could possess. Felt it leave, the doubt, that specific darkness…gone, managing to leave behind only those blood-stained patent bred Jordan's, a scar on her memory, to ensure it—she—wasn’t forgotten.

Chapter Text

“I look like a fuckin’ crime boss,” Vi complained. “Or, like someone who’d wear their girlfriend’s blood in a vial around their neck.”

“You’re the one who gave yourself neck tattoos, all I did was put you in black satin,” Mel was quick to respond. “Also, that’s entirely the point. If you’d managed not to punch anyone in public, you’d be wearing a lovely and nonthreatening shawl-collared, crushed velvet jacket, but alas, you lack impulse control and therefore your princess charming privileges have been revoked.”

Vi rolled her eyes. “So, you’re still not over that?”

“Absolutely not, and the media isn’t either, so I need you to play the character we rehearsed, do you understand? It’s imperative that you do.”

After a dramatic sigh, Vi told her, “Yeah, I get it, Mel. Smolder, grip her waist, flash my canines at the camera…all that dumb alpha shit.”

At that, Mel finally smiled. “Exactly.”

“So cringe we inspire relationship goals gifsets on straight tumblr,” Vi repeated Mel’s earlier instructions.

“Oh, my shining star,” Mel moved forward to cup Vi’s face, laughing softly. “Are you confident in your performance?”

Vi nodded, eyes slipping closed of their own volition. An earlier Vi would have found this reaction to her fucking publicist’s touch embarrassing, but that Vi had been lost somewhere between Caitlyn’s thighs, it seemed. “Yeah, should be all good.”

“You look like you haven’t slept much.”

“I haven’t.”

“I’ll ensure make-up takes another run at you,” Mel’s thumb brushed at the bag under Vi’s eye before retracting. “Have you spoken with Jinx since the incident?”

Vi opened her eyes as the spell was lifted. “No. Think she blocked my number.”

Mel sighed, disappointed. “Alright, well, I suppose that’s an issue for another time. Why d—,”

“Vi? Are you—oh,” Cait had just stepped into the room, Saint Caitlyn in a two piece white dress, toned stomach on display, shoulder pads accentuating her already striking figure, simultaneously sharp and ethereal. A warning and a beacon all at once. “You look—,”

“Like Hades in need of rehabilitation, my stunning Persephone,” Mel finished for her, beckoning Cait further into the Kiramman’s guest bedroom. “And perfect timing, you’re both missing one last cringe-worthy decoration.”

/

Vi watched as Cait tried not to squint against the flashing cameras. For as well as she’d taken to all this, it was still made clear to Vi every day, in one form or another, that Caitlyn was not accustomed to this sort of celebrity.

The whispered “that’s Caitlyn Kiramman. Yeah, Kiramman,” in school hallways, certainly. She was used to her reputation proceeding her. This, however, being known for her face as well as her name, being Vi’s expected arm candy, Powder-Keg’s Yoko Ono, the envy of millions…yeah, different ballgame altogether.

“You good?” Vi turned to murmur against the skin just below the hinge of Cait’s jaw, the spot Mel had instructed Vi to place an obvious bitemark, Vi receiving a matching hickey just above the collar of her shirt—tacky, all of it, but that was the point.

“Mhm,” Cait murmured in response, keeping her smile tight lipped, not daring to show her teeth. The internet had made enough of her gap tooth already, and again, the point was to smolder.

“Vi, over here!” photographers shouted, there was never any way for her to determine which one wanted her attention at any given moment.

Vi ran her tongue over her teeth, pausing the tip on her sharp canine for long enough to ensure the image was captured. “Sorry,” she apologized quietly as her hand dropped from Cait’s waist to her hip, squeezing pointedly as she pulled Cait closer to her.

Cait took her cue, moving Vi’s open shirt aside slightly to place a flat palm on Vi’s bare chest. “I understand my assignment, no need to apologize.”

“No, I mean—,” Vi dragged her nose up the column of Cait’s throat. “I acted like an asshole, and now we have to do this sh—,”

“I don’t mind,” Cait’s voice was higher than before. “Thought that had been made clear already.”

Vi couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled past her lips, though she tried to bite it back, keep her jaw loose, eyes narrowed. Alpha. “What we did the other night is a little different than grabbing your ass on my publicist’s orders. I can’t believe your mom agreed to this.”

“You forced her hand.”

“And Mel forced mine.”

“Oh, like groping me in public is so torturous for you?”

“No, but sitting next to your parents for a 2 hour show right afterwards definitely is.”

“Mmm…” Cait leaned forward to bite down on Vi’s plump lower lip. Admittedly, that wasn’t part of the regularly scheduled programming, but Vi wasn’t going to fault her a little improv. “Well,” Cait continued once she’d briefly applied suction before letting Vi go. “I’ll be sitting next to my parents, watching your sister perform Slumber Party. So, I’m terribly sorry, my darling, but I have little sympathy for your plight.”

Finally, they were able to move on, leaving the tape mark on the carpet for the relative safety of the amphitheater.

“Hey, Cupcake,” Vi turned to look at her straight on once they were briefly free of the public’s scrutiny. “I’m right here, OK? It’s just one performance of a song we’ve heard a million times. It’s gonna suck, it’s gonna really suck. The cameras will be on us the whole time and they’re gonna be begging for a reaction…but I’ve got you, alright? Whatever you need, I’m here.”

Cait’s responding smile was fragile. “Will you sit next to my mother for me? I don’t think I can bear her commentary.”

“Caitlyn Kiramman,” Vi took both her hands, squeezing as she dramatically got down on one knee. “I will absolutely listen to your mother talk shit for two hours. I will take that bullet for you.”

Rolling her eyes through a wet laugh, Cait pulled Vi back to her feet before inquiring eyes could make more of it than the joke Vi had intended. “My hero.”

/

Vi’s performance fell towards the end of the program, before Jinx and before their category was announced.

Her stage was set, neck was cracked, backup dancers in place—all dressed in assorted pink prison jumpsuits and scrubs, just like in her video.

Vi breathed deeply, pulling on the fabric of her tight white tank top, ensuring it rode up slightly, revealing just a hint of her v-taper, watching the stage manager count them back from commercial break.

Here goes nothing. Can’t wait to be canceled…again.

3…2…1…

“Yeah, you got that yummy, yum / that yummy, yum / that yummy, yummy—,” the choreography was clean, everyone moving in unison, second nature by this point. “—In the morning or late / say the word, on my way…”

They broke out of formation, Mel’s adjustments now making up the bulk of the performance.

Two of the dancers dragged a third, dressed as a corrections officer, towards Vi, the woman’s knees sliding across the smooth stage as she pretended to struggle.

“Bona fide stallion / you ain’t in no stable, no, you stay on the run—,” Vi placed a finger beneath the woman’s chin, forcing her gaze upwards. “Ain’t on the side, you’re number one / yeah every time I come around, you get it done…”

She slung the female dancer over her shoulder just as she had Cait the other night, twisting around to set her on the prop metal picnic table they’d wheeled on behind her.

“Fifty-fifty, love the way you split it—,” she slid onto the bench, forcing the woman’s legs apart where she sat on the table, back to the audience. “—hunnid racks, help me spend it, babe / light a match, get litty, babe—,” Vi’s hands traveled up and down the dancer’s back, over her waist, her hips, her thighs. Claiming, possessing. “That jet set, watch the sunset kinda, yeah, yeah / rollin’ eyes back in my head, make my toes curl, yeah, yeah…” she moved her hands to the woman’s front, pressing on her chest until she lay flat on her back before Vi jumped up on the table, performing her same dance choreography from earlier, careful not to step on the dancer beneath her, who trusted Vi like only a professional could.

“—that yummy, yummy—/ say the word, on my way—,”

Vi sunk to her knees after the chorus, straddling the woman’s face, dominating. “Standing up, keep me on the rise—,” she rolled her hips, her impression of the act she meant to imply rather obvious. “—lost control of myself, I’m compromised—,” her hand slipped beneath the dancer’s head, fisting in her long hair and holding her head above the table so the camera would hardly be able to discern the few inches of separation between the woman’s face and Vi’s rhythmic thrusting. “—you’re incriminating, no disguise / and you ain’t never running low on supplies…”

She was back on her feet for the bridge and chorus, the woman returning to a sitting position, waiting to be used however Vi saw fit.

/

@MTV: [posted a video] Vi. That’s it. that’s the tweet.

@Powderkegownsthispussy: mentally I’m lying on a cold metal table right now with @therealvi riding my face

@hornyonmain: I could fix her

@visnecktattoo: well I could accept her as she is. You don’t like it when she punches people in clubs? Grow up. She’s a messy bitch and I’ve decided that’s funny.

/

When Vi returned to her seat, again dressed in the suit she’d worn into the venue, Caitlyn was nowhere to be found.

Cassandra tracked her eyes, answering her question before she could ask. “She’s in the restroom. Nearly ran out of here as soon as you’d finished your performance. I warned her not to drink all that water in the limo, these events just drag on and there are too few opportunities to leave your seat.”

Tobias gave her two thumbs up from Cassandra’s right, offering a, “Great job!”

“I think she’s nervous,” Vi said, smiling to acknowledge Tobias’ compliment while taking her seat next to Cassandra, watching as her industry peers milled about, making conversation during the commercial break. “She doesn’t really mind the carpet stuff, I guess, but she’s been working on her poker face for the split screen and—,”

Cassandra nodded, cutting her off like she’d only been partially listening, “Yes, well, we’ve all made our beds, haven’t we? Though, if it were up to me, your entire display this evening would have been considerably more…” she considered the right word. “Tame.”

“Isn’t it up to you, though?”

“As an executive, yes. As a mother…unfortunately not.”

Caitlyn reappeared then, sliding into their aisle, and slipping into the seat beside Vi. “You were wonderful,” she said immediately, taking Vi’s hand in her own, passing her something soft that was balled up in her fist as the lights blinked to encourage people back to their seats.

“Thanks, Cupcake. Your dad thought so too,” Vi laughed. “What’s—,”

“Not yet,” Cait instructed, her tone sharp, jolting Vi a little. But she didn’t have time to think about it any harder because Cassandra was groaning “here we go” as the countdown to Jinx’s performance began.

Once the lights were low enough, Vi opened her palm, studying the object Cait had handed her for just long enough to realize it was her thong…and it was wet. She clenched her fist instantly, ears burning, braving a glance over at Cait…who was completely straight faced, stoically facing forward.

After her brain had stopped short circuiting, she leaned into Cait’s ear to chuckle, “That did it for you, huh?”

“Very much so. Now please, Violet, have some decency. We’re at the theater.”

Vi laughed so loud Cassandra had to shush them.

…and then a seizure warning was being projected onto the dark background in front of them, and the time for laughing was over.

Cait was already uneasy, hands wringing in her lap. Vi reached over to still them, threading their fingers together as Jinx’s performance began.

The instrumental started out with a rhythmic knocking sound, wooden, almost, and slightly distorted. The stage lights flashed with each beat, illuminating Jinx’s silhouette at center stage.

Vi squinted, trying to focus on Jinx’s form in the darkness. She was standing oddly, her arms crossed over her chest or something, Vi couldn’t quite tell.

“I don’t think this is Sleepover,” Cait murmured.

“Don’t be cautious, don’t be kind / you committed, I’m your crime,” Jinx began to sing, and as she did, the flashing was no longer simply lights, but projections, newspaper articles about lead in Zaun’s water supply, poverty rates, homeless numbers. “Push my button anytime / you got your finger on the trigger, but your trigger finger’s mine…”

Tax breaks to major corporations that agreed to headquarter themselves in Piltover, a headline about those same companies dumping their waste and runoff in Zaun, a story about—,

“Vi, what is this?” It was Cassandra asking, Vi didn’t have an answer, but it was obvious everyone was equally unprepared.

“Silver dollar, golden flame / dirty water, poison rain / perfect murder, take your aim / I don’t belong to anyone, but everybody knows my name…”

A few more lights joined the chorus, revealing Jinx…in a straitjacket…her bound form shrouded in pulsing purple light.

Vi’s heart nearly stopped in her chest, stomach dropping through the floor.

“By the way / you’ve been uninvited / ‘cause all you say / are all the same things I did—,”

The headlines were Powder-Keg specific now, coming of age profiles and album reviews, two orphans from Zaun who’d made it, a rags to riches story in the most genuine sense.

“Copycat tryna cop my manner / watch your back when you can’t watch mine / copycat tryna cop my glamor / why so sad, bunny? Can’t have mine….”

The crash…the tragedy…and what inevitably came after. The blame. On Vi. All of it, on Vi.

“Call me calloused, call me cold / you’re italic, I’m in bold / call me cocky, watch your tone / you better love me, ‘cause you’re just a clone…”

Vi sentenced to prison time. Vi dropped by Zaun Recording House.

“By the way, you’ve been uninvited / ‘cause all you say, are all the same things I did—,”

Cait had turned away from the stage completely, leaning into Vi’s shoulder. “Easy, baby, easy…”

Vi only noticed how tightly she’d been clenching her jaw when the orchestra was stripped back to simply piano, Jinx’s voice so horribly beautiful and twisted it made Vi want to run screaming from the room.

“I would hate to see you go / hate to be the one that told you so—,”

The images flickered with the lights, Vi and Powder on stage, pictures that Zaun Recording House had the rights to, intimate footage of Vi and Powder in the recording studio, Vi laughing, Powder pressing her hands to her headphones, bobbing her head, trying to focus while Vi distracted her.

As good as those times ever got, memorialized.

“You just crossed the line / you’ve run out of time—,”

Vi looked away from the projection, watching Jinx instead, watching her emote, tell her version of this story with none of the right parts, none of the important pieces.

“I’m so sorry, now you know / sorry I’m the one that told you so / I’m sorry…sorry…I’m sorry, sorry—,”

There was the TMZ watermark. The Vi in the projection threw her punch, the photographer crumbling to the ground, Vi following…

“Psych.”

There was nothing else to say. Nothing else to do but sit and watch and take it. Jinx had her captive, bound to her chair with the cameras that prowled the aisles, trained on her from nearly every angle.

“—why so sad, bunny? Can’t have mine…”

As that song ended, Cait squeezed her hand as if to say, you made it, it’ll be OK…except they hadn’t, and it wouldn’t.

The stage was shifting, the lights changing, music transitioning from the thundering base tones of Copycat to the haunting sound of a child’s music box.

Stagehands came to strip the straitjacket from Jinx’s body, dragging her mic stand away and fitting her with a headset.

She now stood in a three walled room, the backdrop covered in spray-paint and drawings that looked like they’d been done by children. One particular child, actually.

Vi recognized the setting immediately. The paint, the drawings, the twin bed in the corner…it was their childhood bedroom, the one before the foster homes and the youth center.

On the bed sat two female dancers, very much wrapped up in each other, all sensual touches and loaded eye contact.

“How did she negotiate a 5-minute set?” Cassandra hissed.

“Mind the cameras, dear,” Tobias murmured.

Jinx approached the bed. The women paid her no mind.

“Tired, blue boy walks my way / holding a girl’s hand / that basic bitch leaves finally / now I can take her man—,” She pushed them apart, forcing herself into the space between them, sitting down on the bed. “Someone told me stay away from things that aren’t yours / but was he yours if he wanted me so bad?”

Jinx turned to the dancer on her right, placing her hands on the woman’s face, nearly icing the other out of the scene completely.

“Pacify her / she’s getting on my nerves / you don’t love her / stop lying with those words….” she shrugged off the other dancer’s groping, desperate hands as they pawed at her back, tugged on her hair, reached for the object of Jinx’s affection. “I can’t stand her whining—,” she finally turned to the other dancer, slipping something out of her pocket, “—where’s her binkie now?” it looked like a spoon, and she’d forced it into the woman’s mouth.

“What the fuck is—,”

“It’s a silver spoon,” Cait answered before Vi could finish her question, blue eyes welling with unshed tears, unblinking, watching as this horror show unfolded.

“—and loving her seems tiring / so boy just love me down, down, down—,”

“She’s a clever little cunt, isn’t she?” Cassandra smiled—the dangerous sort, the one that communicated she’d reached her limit, that further delinquency would not be tolerated.

“Pacify her / she’s getting on my nerves / you don’t love her / stop lying with those words…”

And still…when their category was announced, and Jinx’s name was called as the winner…she opted for one more twist of the knife.

“Wow! This is—oh my god, what an honor, really,” Jinx gripped the trophy with both hands, her tone cloyingly sweet, a convincing parody of a kinder person. “I can’t believe it. This was such a team effort, seriously. Wanna shout-out my management team, everyone over at Zaun Recording House—I have no idea where I’d be without you guys. Probably in some Piltie’s gilded cage, and I’d honestly rather be dead, so thanks so much for sticking with me. But really, I’d like to dedicate this award to my sister, Vi, and her girlfriend whose name I can’t remember. Well, OK, that’s not true, I remember her last name. But anyway, much love to you guys. This video would have stayed an unhinged concept in my f*cked up head if wuzzername hadn’t worn that tank top that night. You know the one, Vi. I’m taking this trophy home to Zaun in the car I’m allowed to drive. Peace and love, peace and love,” she signed off with a cackle.

“It’s a wonderful thing you’re a law student, Caitlyn,” Cassandra was the first to speak once the outro music picked up. “Because I’m going to need a criminal defense attorney by the time we’re through with her.”

Chapter Text

“Are you ready?” Caitlyn asked.

“No,” Vi whispered. “I’m tired, Cait.”

“I know, baby,” Cait ran a hand through Vi’s hair, smoothing it back, trying to comb out the small knots with her fingers. “Come on, we can shower together. Up you get.”

Vi felt tears return to her eyes as Cait helped her to her feet. Tears for the sister she was sure was lost now. For good, too far gone, too broken, too horrible. All of it, everything, too much.

My fault.

That’s what Jinx thought, anyway.

All my fault.  

Caitlyn’s own tears had dried quickly, that supreme embarrassment, hurt, morphing into something powerful, something useful. Something like determination. She got that from her mother, it was obvious. Meanwhile, Vi had sat in the limo, hand clasped in Caitlyn’s, and watched. Sat silently as the Kirammans schemed, coordinated, initiated phase 57 of Jinx-related damage control.

Vi was tired.

She wanted a drink, wanted to destroy something, and her own body was the easiest mark. Her wrists, her hands, her fucking liver, whatever. Didn’t matter, as long as the pain came…and went.

But Cait wouldn’t let her, wouldn’t let her hurt herself anymore. She’d made sure Vi wore gloves in the gym that night. Ensured she didn’t chase their late-night dinner with a bottle of Jack. And when they’d made love, Caitlyn was soft, loving, easy…two fingers and an earful of praise and encouragement all Vi needed to briefly banish the images of Jinx from her mind.

“Later,” Cait had said when Vi tried to flip them over. “You should sleep now. We can come straight back here after the meeting.”

“You promise?” Vi tucked a strand of Cait’s dark hair behind her ear with shaking fingers.

“Of course, my darling,” Cait laid her face down in the crook of Vi’s neck, breathing her in. “I don’t need that from you tonight, really, I’d hardly be able to focus anyway…”

Vi began to drift off, though she was awoken sometime later by the sound of Cait’s soft whimpers pressed into the sheets beside her, the subtle dip and rise of the mattress as Cait rutted against a pillow, eyes squeezed tightly shut.

Vi watched her for a time, listened as she sighed her name, “Vi…yes…please…” the words sounding so pretty in that high, breathy voice, reminding Vi that she was wanted—desperately, even in these circumstances. That she was desired.

That realization bloomed warm in her stomach, and it was enough to lull her back to sleep once Cait had finished, her voyeurism unnoticed.

“I feel like I got my ass kicked,” Vi chuckled as Cait ensured their shower reached the proper temperature. “Like, physically. I don’t—,”

“It’s all the same,” Cait beckoned her deeper into the steam. “The physical and the emotional. Did my father ever tell you he briefly served overseas?”

Vi shook her head.

“Oh yes,” Cait laughed, lathering her hands with soap and trailing them across Vi’s skin. “He has a medal and everything. I was conceived immediately after he returned home from his tour, or so the story goes, I try not to venture too deeply into that subject.”

“Really? I wanna hear all about it,” Vi joked, humming when Cait’s arms encircled her from behind, relaxing against her body.

“I shudder to think. Now, if you’d just let me dispense some wisdom…”

“Sorry,” Vi mumbled through a smile, pretending the water could wash away her sins. “I’m listening.”

“He told me trauma manifests itself in all sorts of ways, and everything we bear can scar in equal measure. You don’t need to be within the blast zone to be affected by it. Some things cut much deeper.”

Vi turned those words over in her head, playing them back in Caitlyn’s voice until she thought she might appreciate them. “I’m sorry I couldn’t fix her before she hurt you. I’m sorry I—fuck, I broke her, Cait.”

“No, you didn’t,” Cait disagreed. “You were a child, Vi. You didn’t have the tools to fix her, there’s a difference. I understand why you feel the need to shoulder the blame, and a part of me does understand why she blames you…but that doesn’t make everything your fault, and it doesn’t make what she’s saying true, or what she’s doing right. Look at me.”

Vi turned at the instruction, hands falling to Caitlyn’s waist as Cait cupped her face.

“Jinx is either not telling the truth about what happened that night, or she doesn’t know the truth,” Cait said, a storm brewing behind her eyes. “It would help our strategy moving forward if—,”

“No,” Vi cut her off, knowing where she was headed. “There’s no point in telling them. Jinx’s is the official version. I went to fucking jail to protect that. What happened that night stays between—,”

“Why, Violet?” Cait snapped. “Why did you do that? Why did you fall on your sword? Why are you still, to this day, endorsing Silco’s narrative? Furthering his agenda?”

“Because it’s m—,”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” Cait warned. “Do not.”

“It’s the truth, Cait!”

“Bullshit! Bullshit, Violet!” Cait moved her hands to Vi’s shoulders, forcing her under the showerhead to wash away the soap she’d applied. “The lie you’re allowing Silco to peddle isn’t helping her. You’ve continued to protect her from herself, from responsibility, from consequence. And we’ve been kind. Mel and Jayce have been kind,” she shut the water off, stepping outside to toss Vi a towel. “My mother will not be. That’s a promise.”

“W—Cait,” Vi took a wobbly step forward. “Are you—you’re gonna tell them?”

Cait looked away. “No, I won’t. I love you more than I hate her, so I’ll keep your awful secret until it kills her. Now, let’s go. You know better than to keep my mother waiting.”

/

“This benefitted us,” Mel said, pausing the video again to focus on Vi and Cait’s anguished faces. “Caitlyn, I appreciate the tears, they were a massive help in swaying public opinion. Vi, you look like you were quite literally stabbed through the heart, which was also effective. We’re starting to see a lot more anti-Jinx rhetoric on social media, even if there’s still a large contingent that were moved by her artistry, or whatever, and want Vi to burn. Her acceptance speech put a bad taste in everyone’s mouth, no one likes a sore winner.”

“That’s all well and good,” Cassandra said from where she stood behind her desk, hands clasped in front of her. “But now is not the time for tongue-in-cheek counter measures. I want her crushed, I want her canceled, I want her mouth sewn shut—but only after she issues a thorough apology to my daughter and also to Violet. We will not be embarrassed again, Ms. Medarda. Last night she moved this little spat well outside the realm of twitter politics. Her personal attacks, thinly veiled accusations and shitty metaphors cannot be tolerated any longer. Violet’s adolescent mistake has already been litigated in a court of law, and she did her time both in literal prison and the court of public opinion. She’ll either drop it or suffer under the entire legal might of my billion-dollar corporation, is that understood?”

Mel cleared her throat, sparing a glance at Jayce who offered a supportive (if not slightly sheepish) nod. “With respect, Mrs. Kiramman, Jayce and I don’t believe that’s the most…effective way forward.”

Cassandra raised a challenging eyebrow. “Well, that’s a wonderful show of teamwork, but I’m your employer, Vi is my artist, Caitlyn is my daughter, and this needs to end now.”

“Cassandra—,”

“Jayce Talis, I don’t want to hear a word from you. Not a word. Besides an explanation as to why Ekko isn’t here in this meeting like I demanded he be.”

“Mrs. Kiramman,” Mel stepped in again, shielding Jayce from further scrutiny. “You are our employer, it’s true. You pay us to do a job, and as a professional on your payroll, I’m telling you a big, billion-dollar corporation from Piltover crushing the little guy to dust is not the right move. Especially after Jinx’s performance last night. Jinx is the people’s less than palatable alternative popstar, and she has been extremely effective in painting Vi as a traitor, a defector who abandoned her roots in a fiery crash to team up with a princess who’s been hand fed from a silver spoon. To her fanbase, you people are the enemy, your solution would do nothing but play into that narrative.”

“Then what’s your suggestion?” Cassandra snapped, sounding so much like Cait had in the shower earlier it made Vi’s head spin. “Because TikTok thirst traps are not going to solve this problem.”

“No, they’re not,” Mel acquiesced. “Our solution is simply not to hit back.”

Vi frowned, glancing between Mel, Jayce and Cassandra.

Cait was already at attention. “What?”

“We’re going to take the high road.”

“We’ve been taking the high road,” Cait argued.

Mel shook her head. “Vi has yet to publicly apologize.”

“For what?!” Cait caviled, standing now.

Mel looked at Vi, her soft hazel eyes tinged with obvious regret—grief, almost. A silent apology before she’d even uttered the words. “For nearly killing her sister.”

“No,” Cait was fully on the attack now. “Absolutely not. She’s through with that, my mother’s right, it’s already been litigated.”

“Caitlyn,” Jayce’s tone was even, the hand on Cait’s shoulder firm. “We understand you’re—,”

“No, you don’t, actually,” Cait shoved his hand away. “And you never will because Violet is a masochist.” There were tears in her eyes as she turned to Vi. “You’re going to let them do this to you again?”

“Cait, I—,”

“I’m sure there was a time when she deserved you, Violet, but now isn’t then,” Cait wiped the tears from her eyes, grabbing her purse from the chair she’d abandoned. “I’m sorry, but I can’t listen to any more of this.”

With that, she left them, Vi’s gaze following her out the door before her eyes dropped to the floor, intently studying the gray swirls in the white marble below her feet.

Jayce started at a jog after her, but Cassandra stopped him with a “Let her go.”

Mel took a deep breath before speaking again. “The Piltie nominations come out in two days, I’ve booked you an interview that afternoon and told them all topics are on the table. They’ll be asking about the crash, about the fights, about everything. And you’ll be answering honestly.”

No, I won’t be.  

“Vi,” Mel got her attention when it was clear she’d drifted. “Honey, look at me.” Vi forced her eyes upwards. “It’s only for the cameras, do you understand? Privately, I have two more projects for you. First, you’ll need to get in touch with Ekko, Jayce will fill you in on the specifics there. And starting Wednesday, once the nominations are locked in and we’ve secured you a primetime performance slot during the awards show, you’ll report to the studio, pen and paper in hand, to work with Viktor and Skye on a new song. One you’ll write together. One that tells your side of the story.”

It was silent for a while after that, everyone waiting for Vi to respond. But she didn’t really have much to say, so a nod was all she offered.

“I promise you,” Mel was closer now. “We’ll get the last word in.”

“I don’t want the last word,” Vi mumbled, eyes still downcast. “I want my baby sister.”

/

The gravel crunched below Vi’s sneakers as she made her way over to Ekko.

“Hey,” he offered, nodding at Vi, hands shoved deep into his coat pockets.

“Hey.”

“So…” he cleared his throat, looking away from her and towards the vacant building in front of them. “This place is a shithole.”

“Yeah,” Vi agreed. “Always was, that was kinda the point. Me and Powder used to come here just to break shit. Jinx,” she corrected before Ekko could. “I know her name is Jinx.”

Ekko nodded again, kicking a rock that was making the ground beneath his foot uneven. “She didn’t, uh…she didn’t let me sit in on rehearsals.”

“It’s cool, man.”

“It’s not, though,” Ekko said, finally meeting her eyes. “She’s so wounded over this shit, man. Fuck, I can’t—she can’t shake it. I can’t pull her back from this darkness, Vi. This one’s too much.”

Vi understood the helplessness in his voice, the loss. But there was nothing to say, not right then. So she stayed quiet as he sniffed, looking at the building again.

“Why’d you do that, man?” his voice was thick with emotion. “Why’d you get behind the fuckin’ wheel? Why’d you come back into her life?”

“Ekko, I—,”

“No, fuck you, just…she’s not—she’s like this all the time now, this fucking monster you created,” he wiped roughly at his eyes. “Doctor Frankenstein in custom Nike’s, shit. And then you call me here for this? After your girl sends her into a fuckin mania over some bullshit you tried to sell her?”  

You’ve got it all wrong. “Jayce called you.”

“Semantics, for real? You’re better than that.”

I’m not. “Listen,” Vi took a step closer to him, watching him struggle with the depth of his emotions. “There’s this Powder-Keg song, it’s on the last album, called Let Me Go, you know it?”

Ekko scoffed. “Yeah, I know it.”

“OK, so that’s—when I think about those lyrics, and I think about my sister, I—I think about you,” Vi admitted, working hard to express herself. “I’m so glad it’s you, man. I’m so glad you love her in the ways I couldn’t, the ways I can’t, the ways she won’t let me right now. You don’t want to change her, you want to help her, just like I wanted to help her. I made a fuckin’ mess and I’m so sorry you have to take care of it, but this isn’t what I meant. I swear,” Vi wrapped a hand around his arm. “Everything I did, I did for her. Every fucking mistake I made was because I thought I knew what was best, but I was a kid and…you don’t know the full story, but I’m still so sorry for the part I played in it.”

Ekko wrapped her in a tight hug as soon as she’d finished, holding her close to his chest in a warm embrace. He exhaled shakily against her shoulder, and Vi squeezed harder, whispering a final, “I’m sorry.”

/

“It’s gonna be like a youth center,” Vi explained, Cait only a semi captive audience.

“I see.”

“Yeah, Kiramman Records is gonna fund it. It’ll have after school programs, daycare, organized sports, a music program…even a few beds in case, you know, in case there are kids like me and Powder that need a place to crash for the night.”

“I think that sounds wonderful.”

Vi’s smile was shy. “You think so?”

“I do.”

“Are you still—you’re still pissed at me, huh? For not telling the truth?”

Cait took a deep breath, gathering both of their dinner plates and placing them in the sink. “Yes, Vi, I am.”

Vi pursed her lips, trying to keep her sudden swell of anger at bay. “Don’t say my name like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like I’m an idiot.”

Cait’s posture stiffened, placing her hands on the sink once she’d set the dishes aside. “That’s not how I meant it to sound.”

Vi wanted to believe her. Maybe she did, but it didn’t cauterize the wound. “Sure, whatever you say.”

“Look,” Cait turned, leaning back, crossing her arms. “I think the rec center is a brilliant PR move as well as a wonderful thing for the city of Zaun and I’m glad it has you inspired. But I do feel as though it’s distracted you from the rest of it. She hurt me, Vi, she hurt you in front of a national audience. And you’re going to be the one apologizing? You’re OK with that?”

“I don’t exactly have a choice, Cait, your mom—,”

“Was worn down to pacifism.”

“And what did you want? War?” Vi asked.

“No.”

Vi didn’t miss the flash of insolence in Cait’s expression. “What, was I supposed to choose between you and her?”

“No,” Cait’s response was immediate, standing straight now. “I’d never ask that of you. But it’s what she’s done at every turn, Vi, how are you still blind to that?”

“I’m not, Cait! I love you!”

“But?”

“But she’s my fucking sister!”

“She’s an emotional terrorist, Violet.”

“Don’t fucking say shit like that, Cait. She was all I had. All I had! When I was cold and starving and alone I had one ray of fucking sunshine and her name was Powder and she’s dead now because of me,” Vi was so sick of crying. So sick of it. “Dead! Fucking murdered in cold blood by Silco while I watched. Watched as he took and took and took from her, turned her against me, stole her and I didn’t fight because I was weak and I was—,”

“You’re not weak,” Cait was crying now too, crossing the kitchen to take Vi’s hands in her own. “You never were, baby, never. He took from you, too. Please, Vi, I need you to see that. Just like Sevika stole your trust, he stole your self-worth, your identity. And I’ve watched you claw and fight so hard to get it back just to let Jinx take it away again. Please, Violet,” she leaned down to press her forehead against Vi’s. “Don’t let them take it this time. Be here with me, stay here, love me. I need you, please, I—,”

Vi surged forward to kiss her, trying to show what she couldn’t say with words. I’m here, I’ll stay, I’m sorry…

And Cait kissed her back, pressing Vi roughly against the counter, tearing the jacket from her shoulders, the t-shirt over her head.

I’ll show you, I’ll show you, I’ll—

Vi unfastened the button on Cait’s jeans, yanking down the zipper, her hand plunging beneath the waistband of her panties and inside her all-in-one motion.

I can’t disappoint you, please. You, of all people, Caitlyn.

Her fingers pressed and curled, trying to communicate everything at once, how profound, how—

“Violet…”

“Last I checked, they weren’t chanting your name, asshole.”

“Listen here, girl. You are not special. You never were, and you never will be. You have nothing original to say, you’re a decent voice squeezed into a tight t-shirt, do you understand me? You, girl, are not Vi. Vi is a concept. Your name is Violet and you are nothing, street trash my brother gathered up in the name of charity. For dust you are, and to dust you shall return.”

“Say that again,” Vi pleaded, watching as pleasure twisted Cait’s features. “Say my name.”

“Violet,” she moaned.

“Look at me, I need to—let me see you.”

Cait forced her eyes open, expression so honest and pliant and in awe of what Vi could give her, always so grateful, so desperate to feel more. “Baby…”

“I’m here,” Vi whispered as she pushed her over the edge, Caitlin falling apart around her, squeezing, milking, pulsing, one last, “Violet!” falling from her lips.

I’m here.

Chapter Text

Caitlyn tugged at the hem of her dress.

Too short.

Silly.

Absolutely ridiculous.

Her legs were too long—spindly and awkward. The unfortunate result of a late growth spurt her parents had assured her was typical for a Kiramman. “Nothing wrong with being a late bloomer, my darling.” Except there was, clearly, and they’d never understand. Before all this, Caitlyn hadn’t cared much about her appearance, beyond cleanliness, of course. She used to consider herself blessed, born without the boy crazy gene, not slave to the same sickness as her peers…but then came Vi, and with her the realization she’d simply been coded for a different sort of crazy.

This dress truly had been the best choice for the occasion. In fact, she’d purchased it specifically for tonight.  But now she was two girls away from the front of the line and she was beginning to doubt herself.

Her wardrobe, her terribly out of place accent, her embarrassingly flat chest and the gap between her two front teeth…

Caitlyn shouldn’t have come here. This had obviously been a mistake, an error in the typically impeccable judgment of a usually well adjusted, levelheaded 16-year-old.

It was her parents’ fault, really. They’d purchased her the tickets, encouraged this meet and greet that would surely do nothing but—

 One girl away, and she could see her clearly now.

Vi.

In the flesh, not a fantasy or an apparition but the living, breathing—

Oh, goodness, she’s perfect.

Vi wore an easy smile, grey eyes twinkling, relaxed and confident, her white t-shirt stretched tight around her muscular arms, v-neck cutting low enough that Caitlyn had to force her eyes away for fear she’d vibrate out of her own skin.

Her dad was urging her forward, the genuinely enormous woman beside Vi waving them up. And now Vi was smiling at her.

Me. She’s…smiling at me.

“Hey, I’m Vi,” she greeted, so pretty, too pretty. Positively dashing with her pink hair slicked back off her forehead. “What’s your name?”

She had freckles in real life, all across her nose and the apples of her cheeks…how did I miss them before? They’re so darling, how did I not notice?

“Um…uh…” oh no.

“You know what’s crazy? I just met two other girls with that same name,” Vi joked, breaking into a grin, rather proud of herself.

Caitlyn giggled, forgetting herself, forgetting to cover her mouth with her hand.

Vi visibly brightened at the sight. “Pow has a little gap in her teeth too, I keep trying to tell her it’s cute, but she wants to get it fixed.”

Caitlyn flushed with embarrassment at her mistake, how she’d laid her imperfections bare, and rushed to correct the record, “Oh, I’m—I’m getting it fixed.”

“Nah, don’t do that. Like I said, it’s cute,” Vi made it sound like fact rather than opinion.

Caitlyn was surely going to combust. She can’t really mean cute…can she? “My name is Caitlyn.”

“Cool to meet you,” Vi’s easy smile was back, and she nodded over Caitlyn’s shoulder. “Did you want a picture?”

Caitlyn turned to see her dad ready with his camera. “Oh, yes, I—yes.”

Vi placed an arm around her like it was the most natural thing in the world and Caitlyn had to fight to ensure her knees didn’t buckle. Of course she smelled wonderful too, like—

Caitlyn’s eyes widened at the uniquely warm sensation emanating from Vi’s lips. Vi’s lips, soft and…

She’d pressed a kiss to Caitlyn’s cheek.

Vi had kissed her. Her lips had—she’d—

“Did you have something for me to sign?”

Caitlyn blinked. Do I…yes, I…

Her dad was already holding the rolled-up poster out to Vi, the one Caitlyn had carefully extracted from the latest issue of Tiger Beat, and Vi took it, uncapping a sharpie with her teeth. “How do you spell Caitlyn?”

That was the most thoughtful question she’d ever been asked. “C-a-i-t-l-y-n.”

“I would’a totally butchered that,” Vi laughed. Caitlyn loved that sound. Wanted to bathe in it, somehow. Bottle it. Keep it close to her heart for as long as she lived.

“Oh my god, Vi, you’re holding up the line again,” Powder complained.

Caitlyn had no idea how long she’d been standing there, but she’d somehow failed to notice the younger girl despite her hair being bright blue.

“Alright, I got it. Chill, Pow,” Vi admonished, handing the signed poster back to Tobias. There was an apology of sorts written into her expression, a genuine kindness Caitlyn hadn’t dared expect. “Later, Cait. Thanks for coming.”

Cait.

Not Caitlyn, Cait.

A nickname.

She’d never been Cait before, but she’d be anything, anyone Vi wanted her to be, if only for that one glorious moment.

How desperate that sounded, how hopeless.

But…

Later.

Later is nearly a promise.

She clutched the digital camera to her chest the entire drive home.

Later…later. Later, Cait.

“Dad?”

“Yes, my darling?”

“Do you believe in soulmates?”

/

Caitlyn rapped her knuckles on the wooden frame twice, popping her head into the open doorway and offering a little wave with the hand that wasn’t occupied by her laptop.

The professor smiled when she looked up, pulling her reading glasses from her face and beckoning Cait inside with one sweeping motion. “Ms. Kiramman,” she greeted in that gravelly voice that made Caitlyn feel all at once at ease.

It had never been a challenge, feeling at home in this office, all warm tones and sturdy furniture, smelling of cinnamon and clapped chalk. Perhaps that’s what had led Caitlyn here, her head full of questions with less than obvious answers.

“Professor Grayson,” Cait returned the kind expression, stepping past the door’s threshold. “So sorry to just drop in like this, I know I didn’t schedule office hours.”

She’d made a habit of apologizing pre-emptively. A poor habit, as she’d never been an inconvenience, only child to well-off parents and all…but one she seemed unable to shake in the face of someone she admired.

“Ms. Kiramman,” the professor fixed her with a look, a laugh, recognizing that familiar script. “You’re the only student that feels the need to schedule office hours. This is a welcome surprise. Now come, sit.” She indicated one of the leather chairs before her desk and Caitlyn obeyed, sitting down gingerly, book bag set neatly to the side, knees pressed tightly together, hands folded over her laptop. “What can I do for you?”

Caitlyn pursed her lips, considering her answer. The question was simple, basic. One she should have prepared for; the issue was how to ask. She’d spent nearly two days ruminating on it, after she and Vi’s…conversation, in the kitchen. She flushed at the memory and shoed her butterflies away just as quickly, remembering the raised voices and the tears and the promises that had come before her distinctly happy ending. “I’m in something of a moral dilemma.”

“Mm,” Grayson nodded, patience personified.

“There’s a legal aspect too,” Cait rushed to assure, suddenly feeling the need to justify her interruption of whatever Grayson hadn’t deemed all that important. “Being that you teach Legal Ethics, I thought you would be a valuable asset when considering…” she trailed off, realizing how silly this would all sound, realizing asking a hypothetical that even resembled the honest situation was a betrayal of trust in some regard. Not that her professor was the type to sell their story to TMZ, but…it was all rather scandalous.

Grayson was calm, kind, holding Caitlyn’s gaze without a hint of judgment. “I’m all ears, child. Go on.”

Vague, then. She’d have to be vague.

“Have you ever been in love?”

…too vague, perhaps.

Her eyebrows bounced, expression changing to something more amused. “Yes…albeit brief,” Grayson admitted after a moment, somewhat wistful, tilting her head, watching Caitlyn with greater interest now. “And what of you? Am I to believe your Instagram feed, Ms. Kiramman?”

The thought of a professor she so admired being aware of her newly aggressive social media presence made Caitlyn physically ill, but she couldn’t dwell on that.

“I’ve been in love for as long as I can remember,” Cait told her without the need for any additional consideration. On that issue, her mind was made up.

“How romantic,” Grayson sat back in her chair, placing her elbow on the armrest, and leaning her cheek against her hand. “Is she everything your imagination had conjured?”

Caitlyn fought back a blush at even the mention of her imagination where Vi was concerned. With a shake of her head, she thought of how Vi held her, of how she kissed her, how she laughed, how she cried. Broke and rebuilt herself a million times beneath Cait’s hands, wrapped in her arms. “She’s real.”

“Oh, the horror,” Grayson chuckled. “Is love your moral dilemma? If so, I may be out of my depth.”

“No—I, sorry…” she finally lost the battle, her cheeks flushing.

“No more apologies, Ms. Kiramman.”

“I can lose myself, talking about her. Forget myself. Which is…well, I suppose that’s my question,” she looked up from her own hands, which she’d been studying with some interest, meeting warm, brown eyes. “How important is the truth, really?”

Grayson laughed. “Legally or ethically?”

“In either case, I suppose?” Caitlyn offered, presently unable to conjure the distinction.

Leaning forward again, Grayson steepled her hands in front of her on the desk, searching Caitlyn’s face, her posture, her presence before speaking. Gathering evidence. “I’m going to ask you a series of questions, Caitlyn. They’re for your benefit, not mine, so no need to answer aloud.”

Cait squared her shoulders to prepare herself, nodding swiftly.

“Who does the truth benefit? Who does it harm? And who is harmed by the lie that’s been told in its place? Consider those questions in a legal context and then an ethical one,” Grayson instructed. “Now, who is morally obligated to tell that truth, and legally, is the truth even a feasible alternative?”

Caitlyn considered taking her notebook out as she turned those questions over in her head, finding the true answers—if more than mildly inconvenient—departed from the simple ones. The ones more motivated by Caitlyn’s own pain, her public embarrassment, the shadow that twisted and coiled into a craving to exact revenge.

Grayson watched her carefully. “Have you placed yourself at the center of this narrative or have you been placed there?”

The shadow grew denser.

“There aren’t exactly clear-cut answers to any of this,” Cait told her.

“Of course not, child,” Grayson laughed, though she sounded more charmed than shaming. “The yes or no answer is a myth. Black and white is useless, there is only gray. The sooner you can learn to discern the shades, the easier your version of these answers will come. Ultimately, it begs the question, why are you here?”

“I suppose I needed someone to—,”

“No, not here in my office,” there was that laugh again, that kind smile. “In my class, at this school. What are you doing this all for? Who?”

That answer was simple enough, always had been. “I want to help people.”

“Who?”

“Those who need it most. Those who need an advocate.”

“A moral advocate or a legal one?”

“I don’t—I’m not sure—,”

“Those causes don’t always align, Ms. Kiramman. You’re on your way to a long and illustrious career, I’m sure of it. But there will be instances in which you’re forced to choose between what is true, what is right, and what has been written. So, again, I ask you: who is harmed, who is helped, and who is the most in need of your advocacy?”

/

Everyone was gathered in Vi’s theater room when Caitlyn arrived, surprised to see even her mother and father there. She fought a sudden bout of panic, realizing they still hadn’t located the panties Vi had last torn off of her in this room, the ones she’d used to gag her as she—

“Hey,” Vi’s arm was around her waist, lips pressed to her cheek. “Guess who’s a Piltie nominated recording artist?”

“Mm…Ekko?” Caitlyn teased, relieved at the lightness of Vi’s tone, her obvious excitement despite the circumstances.

“Well, yeah,” Vi grinned. “But me too, for some fuckin’ reason.”

Cait ran a thumb over the freckles that were splashed across Vi’s cheeks, forgetting herself for a moment, forgetting to acknowledge anyone else in the room. Drawn to the mirth in Vi’s eyes, a blessed reprieve from the tears that so often gathered at the corners now. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Best pop solo performance, Best pop duo/group performance, and best pop vocal album,” Mel supplied the specifics, having overheard.

She wished she could have Vi alone, wished she could congratulate her in the way she was craving…but that could wait. At least until her parents were out of the house. In the meantime, she settled for a chaste kiss before turning to the group, enjoying how Vi’s hand remained on her waist, claiming her even in this context with absolutely no threat present. “Are we all here to watch the special?”

“Airs in three minutes,” Jayce said, leaning back in his theater seat, making himself right at home.

“Caitlyn,” her mother greeted. “How was class?”

The honest answer was that it had been incredibly difficult to focus thanks to everything else she had going on in her life, but the Kirammans had never thrived much on honesty. Not emotional honesty, at the very least. Secrets could be valuable and understanding what information to withhold to further one’s own agenda was a vital discipline. Of course, the agenda in this particular example was to get her parents out of Vi’s home as soon as possible so that they could have whatever sort of consolation sex this interview would inspire. A noble goal, to be sure. Caitlyn hoped Vi was in the mood to rec—,

Tobias frowned at her continued silence. “Caitlyn?”

“Enlightening,” she finally answered, thinking on her conversation with Professor Grayson. “Gave me a lot to consider.” At the moment, Caitlyn was considering Violet’s strong thighs clamped around her ears, the way she sighed, groaned, gripped her hair, pressed upward with her hips, needing the release only Caitlyn’s mouth could provide, taking what she—

“Good,” her mother responded before changing the subject completely, pleasantries out of the way as she looked at Mel. “If your strategy fails here, Ms. Medarda, I will be resorting to more drastic counter measures, I hope you understand.”

“I do,” Mel nodded, sitting down next to Jayce. “But I have all the confidence in the world this interview will have the desired effect. Vi gave the performance of a lifetime, I can assure you.”  

Cait’s eyes found Vi again beside her, watching as she clenched her free hand, seeming somewhat uncomfortable with the praise. Cait squeezed her forearm, her hand sliding down until it covered Vi’s. “Would you like to sit?”

Vi shook her head. “No, I’ll—I think I’m gonna stand. Might have to leave, I don’t know.”

“Will you go to the gym?”

“Maybe.”

“If you do, will you promise to wear gloves?”

Vi nodded and Caitlyn leaned down to kiss her on the forehead before sitting, though she didn’t drop her hand, even as Vi remained standing.

“Here we go,” Jayce said, unmuting the massive, 83” television once the station came back form commercial break.

The package started with footage of Vi on stage as a teenager, the reporter’s voiceover reminding the audience of who Vi was, of Powder-keg’s success…and then of their downfall. Caitlyn felt Vi wince at the footage of the smoking car that flashed on screen, the images of Vi’s needlessly dramatic perp walk.

Caitlyn remembered watching this all in real time, only a month after the meet and greet—all of it live, splashed across every tabloid and playing nonstop on every entertainment news channel. It hurt, even now. The Vi in this footage looked so broken, empty. Lost. So different than the one she’d met, devoid of that easy confidence, her disarming smile. And now she knew the truth—she hadn’t lost those things; they’d been taken from her.

“—fighting to reclaim her popularity. But it hasn’t all been smooth sailing,” the reporter continued over footage of the Music Video Awards. “Her sister and former collaborator, Jinx, opened old wounds on Sunday night during a shocking performance of her songs Copy Cat and Pacify Her.” Some audio of Jinx’s performance was piped in, highlighting the now viral “psych” moment.

“Why is Jinx getting this much airtime?” Cait demanded, unable to stay silent.

“They’re setting the stage,” Mel explained in that soothing, rational tone that Caitlyn was quickly coming to resent.

“—calls her life outside of the spotlight ‘a simple one’, one she’d like to keep ‘all about the music’.”

On screen, Vi opened her front door, dressed in Caitlyn’s favorite light washed jeans, the ones that made sure to highlight how Vi’s never skipped a leg day in her life, and a baseball jersey from Zaun’s gravely underfunded triple-a team.

Casual, effortless…sexy.

Vi’s smile was the sort of faux-genuine people didn’t question, charming but staged to the trained eye. “Hey, you made it,” she welcomed the reporter and camera operators inside. “The gate can be a little weird, sorry about that.”

“She invited us to her East Piltover home,” the reporter’s voiceover continued. “To show us—,”

“Did you choose your outfit?” Caitlyn wondered.

“Me and Mel,” Vi answered. “I just showed her the stuff you like best, and she picked.”

“Why the things I like?”

“You have good taste, Cupcake.”

“—I live alone right now,” the Vi on screen was saying, guiding the camera crew through her house. “But it never really feels like that. Not in a bad way. My old label, they—um, I don’t mind having my new team here, I guess. And—oh,” she laughed when they entered the kitchen, scratching the back of her neck in front of the island strategically covered in Cait’s textbooks. “I basically survive on protein shakes, so my girlfriend decided that makes the kitchen her office.”

The video cut away from Vi in the kitchen, a slideshow of paparazzi photos depicting Vi and Caitlyn on screen—holding hands on the way into a club, a restaurant, on the red carpet, on a run together, holding iced coffees in casual clothes…a voiceover explaining Vi and “Caitlyn Kiramman, daughter of Cassandra Kiramman of Kiramman Records” have been seeing each other for over 6 months now.

“Jinx has made it a point to place Caitlyn in the middle of your feud, what are your feelings on that?” the reporter asked, standing near Vi in the kitchen.

“I can’t speak for my sister, and I don’t wanna speak for my girlfriend,” Vi answered. “But I love them both. I wish we were in a place where we could all sit down and talk things out, but…we’re just not there right now. Someday, maybe, but it’s…it’s painful.”

Caitlyn shifted uncomfortably in her seat, not entirely appreciating how Mel had seemed to cast Vi as a neutral party, but Vi was there to squeeze her hand, expression apologetic.

Vi and the reporter were sitting on the patio now, the warm sunlight highlighting all of Vi’s best features (not that she had any bad ones), her posture relaxed, in control.

“—now a three-time Piltie nominee, recognition that’s a long time coming, according to your fans.”

Vi laughed, the sound laced with legitimate joy. “I’m so blessed, for real. My publicist kinda shields me from the negative stuff, but it’s overwhelming, in the best way, all that love, all that support. But at the same time, it’s like…it’s bittersweet because me and Powder—me and Jinx, we worked so hard for that big break, were out on the streets grinding for every CD sale, every stream, every ticket we sold, and now I have everything but her.”

“Do you blame yourself for that?”

“Of course I do,” Vi answered. “Of course I do. And I’d never expect her to forgive me. How could I? But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t tear me open, living without her.”

“When the restraining order was first put into effect, what was your reaction?”

“Oh, god,” Vi ran a hand through her hair, sitting back, looking off into the distance. “It was like the world was ending. She was my world, you know? I had this one thing that kept me grounded, this one person who really cared about me and then overnight, she was gone. I think…that was the first time I ever thought about ending my life, was that day, when I left the courthouse.”

“Are you still suicidal?”

“I’m not,” Vi told her. “In a much better place in my life now, but I look back on those times and it’s…I don’t know, I felt so hopeless. Worthless. But Jinx was my beacon, she kept me going. The thought of seeing her again got me out of bed in the morning.”

“6 years is a long time.”

“A long time to feel sorry for yourself, yeah,” Vi agreed. “To feel responsible.”

“And are you responsible?”

“For the crash?”

“Yes.”

“I made the choice to drink that night, and I got behind the wheel, that’s on me,” Vi said. “I was too proud to ask for help, I thought I could deal with my addiction on my own and it almost killed my sister. That’s not something I’ll ever get over.”

“Your addiction to alcohol?”

“I had a few vices,” Vi admitted. “And no support system after Silco took over my old label. Having the right people around you changes everything, and I finally found them.”

“Do you think Silco is capable of creating a positive support system for Jinx?”

“No,” Vi answered honestly. “No, absolutely not.”

“And what about Sevika, your old manager? You two got into a physical altercation recently.”

Vi drummed her hand on her leg for a few beats. “I wasn’t easy to manage back then, I know that. But…that’s not an excuse for how she treated me. I’ve been working on holding myself accountable recently, that night in the club, I was outta my integrity. I can admit that. It’s not the person I want to be anymore. But Sevika deserved a confrontation. I just…I wish I’d been able to control myself, it just…seeing her, seeing the way she treated Jinx, hearing how she talked to Caitlyn…it was automatic. I don’t apologize for wanting to defend the people I love, but I handled it wrong.”

“Is there anything you’d like to say directly to Jinx, in case she’s watching?”

“Yeah,” Vi sat forward, placing her elbows on her knees and speaking directly to the camera. “I’m sorry, Pow. I failed. I didn’t take care of you like I should have; I didn’t protect you. And I have to live with that truth every day. That I should have fought harder, that you suffered because of me. That I couldn’t save the day, that I’m not your hero anymore,” her eyes were glossy with tears. “I love you, Jinx. I always have and I always will. I don’t need you to forgive me, but I do need you to know that.”

The screen faded to black after Vi finished her appeal, cutting to a commercial break—conveniently Vi’s “yummy” Uber Eats commercial.

Jayce applauded, getting to his feet. “Now that’s what I’m talking about!”

Mel looked happy, relieved.

“You were brilliant,” Tobias told her.

Cassandra remained silent, though she wore the expression Cait recognized from when she’d present her shooting trophies. She was proud of Vi.

And so was Caitlyn, but she knew all this came at a cost, knew what that had taken from her. Knew what it would take to re-build.

Vi had finally taken a seat beside her, resigning herself to this self-effacing reality.

“I love you, Violet,” Cait murmured when Vi wouldn’t meet her eyes. “And I know the truth, that you did your best.”

Vi visibly swallowed, still facing resolutely forward. “Thank you.”

At the end of the commercial break, Vi and the reporter were still seated on the patio, though this time sharing the same couch, facing each other, Vi with an acoustic guitar in her hands.

“Will you sing a little something for me, before I go?” the reporter asked.

“Any requests?” Vi wondered, adjusting a machine tuner, picking quietly at the B string.

“Whatever you want to play, I’ll listen.”

Vi pursed her lips, squinting slightly at the B string’s twinge before she found the right note. “I’ll play you my favorite song off the album,” she decided. “I just had this sorta…I don’t know…epiphany? With my music. Like, I understood the lyrics before, but it’s a different thing when you start to really feel them. This is the last track on the album, and I used to kinda hate performing it. But now I have someone special in mind when I sing it and…” she strummed the first few chords. “I don’t know, it hits different, I guess,” she laughed. “One touch and you got me stoned / higher than I’ve ever known / you call the shots and I follow…”

Cait’s breathing grew shallow, that now familiar out of body experience taking hold of her.

“Sunrise but the night’s still young / no words but we speak in tongues / if you let me, I might say too much…”

Vi leaned into her, resting her head on Cait’s shoulder.

“Your touch blurred my vision / it’s your world and I’m just in it / even sober I’m not thinking straight…”

On screen, Vi’s eyes were trained on the reporter, serenading her. But these words, this performance, it was for Caitlyn. Fantasy, reality…there was only a slim discrepancy. And it was so worth all the suffering in between, to be here, now. Listening to a song that only meant something because of Caitlyn, with Vi’s head on her shoulder, a grounding force amongst all the uncertainty. This, she was certain about. This, she’d never questioned, not really.

“’Cause I’m off my face, in love with you / I’m out my head, so into you / and I don’t know how you do it / but I’m forever ruined by you / ooh, ooh, ooh…”

Caitlyn was ruined too, irreparably damaged by the woman beside her. The one who’d stolen her heart and refused to give it back.

“Can’t sleep cuz I’m way too buzzed / too late, now you’re in my blood / I don’t hate the way you keep me up…”

The one she’d forever cherish.

“—cuz I’m off my face, in love with you / I’m out my head, so into you / and I don’t know how you do it, but I’m forever ruined by you / ooh, ooh, ooh…”

Violet.

My love.

/

Caitlyn felt her eyes begin to flutter closed, lulled away from the land of the living by the slow, steady beating of Vi’s heart in her chest, beneath the warmth of her smooth skin.

Stillness had been such a rarity in Cait’s life. Genuine calm, comfort…but that’s what it was to be wrapped in Vi’s embrace, held tight to her powerful body, every cord of muscle a masterpiece—she was all at once whole, complete, no longer a misfit, no longer alone.

Caitlyn wasn’t daft, she knew wishes made on stars weren’t likely to come true. But this wasn’t that. It never had been. This, here, intertwined, in love with Vi. Her Vi.

Hers.

This was manifest destiny.

“I’m here,” Vi had said in the kitchen all those days ago, her fingers buried so deep within her Caitlyn’s thighs clenched at the memory. I’m here…

The two most beautiful words in the English language, Cait was sure of it.

“Do you think that reporter was into me?” the words rumbled in Vi’s chest, shattering the serenity, and Caitlyn laughed.

“There’s not a shred of doubt in my mind she would have let you take her right there.”

Vi laughed too. “You jealous?”

“Not in the slightest.”

“Because I ate your ass earlier?”

Cait gasped, sitting up, absolutely scandalized. “You can’t—don’t say that out loud!”

Vi was laughing, entirely too pleased with herself. “Why?”

“Because you—never mind, you’ve ruined the moment,” Cait tried to sulk, reluctantly untangling herself from Vi’s embrace and laying beside her.

“Sorry, is there a more romantic way to say that?” Vi wondered, leaning over her now, propped up on her elbow, gazing down at Caitlyn like she was the most precious thing she’d ever laid eyes on.

“No,” Cait huffed, attempting to ignore the downright dreamy quality of Vi’s gaze. “But you’re right, I’ll take respite in that memory the next time a woman looks too long in your direction. Potent blackmail material as well, that’s a warning.”

“You won’t need it,” Vi assured her, moving in for a kiss which Caitlyn deftly avoided.

“Mouthwash first, please.”

Vi’s jaw dropped. “Did I just get swerved?”

Caitlyn wrestled her face away. “You’re impossible.”

“What, did you not like it?”

“I…didn’t say that.”

Vi laughed, rolling dramatically off the bed, and heading to the bathroom to wash her mouth as requested.

And just like that, Grayson’s questions were answered.

Just like that, listening to Vi snicker from the bathroom, briefly carefree, Caitlyn realized what needed to be done. What she could do to protect that happiness in the woman she loved…who needed her advocacy. What it would take to make a genuine difference.

The truth. The truth would have to come out.

Caitlyn groaned, pressing her face into her pillow at the realization that this undoubtably life changing moment would forever be tainted by the memory of—

Vi was back now, still smiling as she slid into bed, wrapping a strong arm around Cait’s waist, and dragging her into a tight embrace. “Mm…I love you,” she breathed into Cait’s neck, nuzzling closer.

Well, perhaps not tainted…

“And I’m totally down to do that again, you just say the word.”

Never mind. Forever ruined.

/

Caitlyn pulled her sunglasses down over her eyes, starting her Porsche’s engine and keying in the address Jayce had reluctantly provided her.

The gate required a code, one Jayce told her would be a breach of privacy for him to share.

Privacy.

A luxury.

One she didn’t deserve.

But Jayce and Caitlyn had been friends a long time. Long enough for Caitlyn to earn his trust…learn his secrets…the pin for his debit card, for instance…which doubled as his phone password.

I told him to change that years ago.

The gate code was saved in his notes.

And so Caitlyn made it to the front porch without issue. Rang the doorbell. Waited.

It took Ekko 21 seconds to answer the door. Caitlyn counted.

“Uh…hey?” He greeted, beyond confused.

“Is Jinx home?”

“How’d you get past the gate?”

“That’s her car, isn’t it?” Cait indicated the baby blue Aventador Roadster she’d parked behind, the one that should really be stored in doors. “Is she inside?”

“She’s in the shower.”

“Oh, that’s fine,” Caitlyn walked right past him to stand in the foyer, hands clasped in front of her. “I can wait.”

Chapter Text

“—standing there, killing time / can’t commit to anything but a crime…” she trailed off, nails digging into her own scalp. “Who’s the fuckin apos—Peter, he gave Peter the keys—Peter’s on vacation…an open invitation…”

She’d had the chorus a week ago, bits and pieces of the rest, scattered. Something formless in the steam.

“All the good girls go to hell / ‘cause even God herself has enemies—,” her skin burned, the novelty of too much of a good thing still one of those wonderfully torturous ironies. So clean, too clean. Spotless, rinsed free of her sins with just the turn of a—, “Pearly gates look more like a picket fence!”

The lyric sewed itself into place.

“And once the water starts to rise / and heaven’s out of sight / she’ll want the devil on her team…”

Her eyes slipped closed, watching it take shape.

“My lucifer is lonely—make it—I want it fuzzy—my god is gonna owe me…”

Knock, knock, knock

Who’s there?

No, that’s not right

It should be—bells, church bells. Three times.

“Hey, babe? You almost done? I kinda need you downstairs.”

Once you get inside ‘em, got friends but can’t invite them…

“Jinx?”

She snapped to attention.

Peter should know better…

It wasn’t time yet, time bomb, this was her time.

Wake up. You’re here. The boy savior needs you.

“Yeah?” she called back, shutting the water off.

“Uh, someone’s here to see you.”

Sister thought I missed her.

She wrapped her body in a towel, her hair—the real stuff that ended at her mid back—dripping onto the floor as she cautiously opened the door, peering out into the hallway.

Ekko was there—still, standing very still. Tense. Glancing back over his shoulder into the darkness. The shadow. Jinx liked to keep the curtains drawn upstairs, the lights off. She liked there to be places to hide.

“Hey, you good?” Ekko asked, looking at her now. Only her, always her.

“Yeah, I’m—I have the first verse,” she was excited. “Jesus gave Peter the keys, right? But Peter’s on vacation / an open invitation…”

He’d been talking.

“—showed up, I don’t know. She said she just wants to talk.”

Jinx frowned, trying to pull her pieces together, fit the right parts back in the assigned compartments. Didn’t always work out that way. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You wanna get dressed first? She’s in the living room drinking some tea I made.”

“Tea?”

“Yeah, she’s British, I don’t know.”

“Huh?” Jinx questioned.

“Put some clothes on.”

“No, I’m—ugh, you’re being weird,” she pushed past him in the hallway, leaving a trail of wet footprints all the way down the stairs and—

Leave.

Caitlyn.

She tapped on the glass between them, an ugly smile twisting her features. Powder struggled against her restraints.

Piltie bitch.

“Jinx,” even in pants, her knees were pressed tight together, some impression of modesty. She smelled rich, it was gonna stink up her couch. Bet it doesn’t take much for Vi to spread those legs… “—have a chat, just the two of us.”

“Where’s Vi?”

“At the studio recording,” Caitlyn set her tea aside, placing it on a coaster Jinx didn’t even know they owned. “Would you like to get dressed?”

“Um, no, get the fuck out of my house.”

Caitlyn crossed one long leg over the other, squaring her shoulders, taking up more space. “I’m afraid I can’t do that, Jinx. Now, please, there’s a bit of a field trip involved, and it would be awfully uncivilized of me to drag you to my car naked.”

What’s going on?

Jinx turned to Ekko. “Why is she here?”

He shrugged.

Some help you are.

“I’m here to offer you my legal services,” Caitlyn answered a question that wasn’t meant for her.

What’s she talking about?

Beats me.

“Bitch, what?”

“I’ll be happy to answer all of your less than eloquent questions once we’re in the car,” she stood. “Hurry along, now. I haven’t got all day.”

“Sorry, Princess, I try not to follow a manic episode to a secondary location and I’m pretty sure I’m on the fuckin brink.”

“How unfortunate,” there was no apology in her tone. “Get dressed, I won’t ask again.”

Jinx scoffed. “Are you threatening me?”

“Very much so,” Caitlyn assured.

“Am I hallucinating this?” Jinx wondered, asking Ekko. “Where’d this bitch get the audacity?”

“I can track you with my phone—,”

Traitor.

Jinx’s eyes went wide with disbelief. “You’re gonna let her kidnap me?!”

“She says she’s got dirt, babe. Have you met her mom? I’m not fuckin’ with the Kirammans.”

“You’re such a pussy! I’d rather die than get in a car with her.”

“It’s not your life that’s on the line, Jinx, it’s your career,” Caitlyn told her, checking her watch like she’d issue that threat on any given Tuesday afternoon. “Get dressed, get in the car, or I will dedicate the rest of my life and every single resource at my family’s disposal to ensuring your music is erased from the collective consciousness. That’s not simply a threat, it’s a promise. I’ll be waiting.”

She started towards the front door, pausing her stride only briefly to thank Ekko for the tea before the door clicked softly shut behind her.

“You…want me to text Vi?”

“No,” Jinx was already on her way to their bedroom. “Princess has a death wish, and all the good girls go to hell.”

“Aye, is that a lyric? That’s sick!”

She shook her head. “You’re down horrendous, little man.”

“I’ll help you hide the body if I gotta!” he shouted up the stairs after her. “She’s so fuckin lanky we’d probably need my Rover!”

Her head was clearer when she eventually climbed into the Porsche’s passenger seat, stitched back together, whole enough.

Caitlyn didn’t say a fuckin word as she started the engine, peeling through the gate and out of the driveway.

Jinx gripped the safety handle above the door. “Jesus, Princess, you’re really on one, huh?”

“You can call me Cait, if you’d like,” she offered, pulling her sunglasses down over too-blue eyes. “If Caitlyn feels too formal.”

“I’d prefer to keep our relationship derogatory, if that’s cool with you.”

“It’s not.”

“Oh, ok. Sounds like a you problem.” Jinx watched her carefully for a reaction, watched her long, elegant fingers slide over the leather of the steering wheel as she made a right at the intersection, heading out of lower Piltover and towards Zaun. She studied her posture, her body, the way her jaw clenched under Jinx’s attention.

I hate you.

“Stop staring at my chest,” Caitlyn snapped.

Shit.

“Put those things away and maybe I will!”

“What is your obsession with my breasts?!” Caitlyn demanded.

“I’m not blind, my obsession ends there.”

“Plenty of people are blessed with sight, few have written entire songs inspired by my chest.”

“I’m bi and Ekko doesn’t have tits, what do you want from me?! It’s not deeper than that, don’t get your knickers in a twist.”

Caitlyn was shaking her head, disapproving.

You’re not better than me.

 “Where the fuck are you taking me?”

“How old were you when your parents died?”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“Can barely understand you through that dumbass accent.”

“Six, right? Vi was ten?”

“Powder, we’re gonna miss the bus! Come on!”

Vi’s hand outstretched, mop of red hair sticking up at the back.

First day of school.

Mom was never in those memories anymore. Just Vi.

“Yeah, tragic, right?”

“Incredibly,” Caitlyn agreed.

Jinx rolled her eyes.

“How did they die?”

“What, Vi didn’t tell you?”

“No,” Caitlyn said. “I only know what I read in your biographies.”

“So why are you asking me, then?”

“Do you remember?”

“Do you wanna keep monkey with you or should I put him in your backpack?”

“Monkey doesn’t wanna go…”

“Pow…”

“Wrong place, wrong time,” Jinx answered. “Happens that way in Zaun sometimes,” she looked out the window, watched as the wealth was sucked from her surroundings.

“My mother and I don’t always see eye to eye,” Caitlyn was saying. “But the thought of losing her…I can’t fathom it. How painful that must have been.”

Shut up.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked again, starting to recognize the street names.

“You lived down this way, didn’t you? Before the foster homes?”

There’d only been three before Vi pulled the plug. Decided they’d be better off without a roof over their heads if it meant escaping that particular circle of hell.

“Lane Street? Apartment 516?” Caitlyn slowed to a near stop in front of the complex, her Porsche grotesquely out of place.

Their mom had worked nights in Piltover. A maid, cleaning houses like Jinx now owned…castles like Piltover’s Princess had always lived in.

“Why are we here?” Jinx growled.

“Do you remember living here?”

“We gotta go now, Pow,” her legs squeezed Vi’s waist, arms draped around her neck. “Say bye-bye.”

They had plaques rather than headstones, paid for by the city for the inconvenience of having two dead parents. Dead by 6 bullets that weren’t meant for them.

“I remember.”

“Good,” Caitlyn sped off down the street. “Vi never talks about them. What were they like? Your parents, I mean.”

“There’s my monkey!” his arms were strong. Safe.

Unfamiliar now.

Jinx shrugged. “Dead. What about yours? Your mom’s kind’ve a milf, what’s her story?”

Her hands clenched on the steering wheel.

Heh.

“I’m sure she’d be flattered you think so,” was Caitlyn’s eventual answer. “My mother is…passionate and…intelligent and strong willed. She can be exceptionally cold or exceedingly generous, in that fiercely loyal way mothers can be.”

I don’t remember.

“What about your dad?”

Why’d you ask that?

Caitlyn smiled to herself.

Gross.

“My father…is as honest as he can be, and kind. Smart, a very hard worker…my most fervent supporter. I’m very lucky,” Caitlyn concluded.

Jinx scoffed. “They sound perfect.”

“Far from it, believe me,” Caitlyn assured. “Have you been to the site for the rec center Vi and Ekko are opening?”

The end of the line. Safe and sound in shards and splinters.

I need to break something.

Come with me, Vi.

“No.”

“Oh, it’s just a few streets away.”

Not a coincidence, a trap.

“Don’t take me there.”

“It’s just a short detour, really,” Caitlyn was already turning, maneuvering without GPS. “They’re scheduled to break ground next month. Will you be at the ceremony?”

I wasn’t invited, bitch.

“Vi told me the two of you used to come here to let off steam,” they’d arrived at the warehouse. “It’s going to be completely unrecognizable once they’re through with construction. A rather ambitious project—,”

We’re on the right side of rock bottom…

She remembered the look on Vi’s face when those lyrics were born, their voices bouncing off the metal walls. Joyous and bittersweet, one hit away from someone finally wanting to listen.

We’re on the good side of bad karma…

Always one hit away.

Starving.

They’d scraped enough money together to buy canned soup from the store before their open mic that night.

“I didn’t know that I was starving til I tasted stew,” Powder laughed as she sang through an adlibbed melody, using the empty can like a microphone, remnants of the first hearty meal they’d had in days.

You.

Starving til I tasted…you.

And Vander happened to be there that night, their stars finally aligning.

All thanks to a can of Campbell’s Chunky Beef Stew.

“It’s about soup,” Jinx said. “That stupid song that probably turns you feral. It’s about beef stew we found on the clearance rack.”

“That, Vi did tell me,” Caitlyn revealed with a dainty chuckle, a dazzling smile. Thin lips pulling back to reveal that small gap between her front teeth.

“It’s cool, Pow. It makes you different. Why would you wanna be the same as everybody else?”

Not that different, though. Not anymore. Not since Caitlyn.

Vi was looking for me.

She found her on accident.

But my smile doesn’t sparkle like that.

“What car was Vi driving that night?”

The smile was gone, features sharp, cold.

“You’re fucking with me,” the sun came out behind Vi’s gray eyes, clearing the storm clouds away. “There’s no way.”

Vander tossed her the keys. “All yours, kiddo.”

Vi’s arms wrapped tight around his monstrous form, squeezing.

The black paint sparkled; Powder’s pale form reflected in the body of their freedom. A ticket to anywhere.

“Hellcat,” Jinx mumbled. “It was fast, really fast.”

“She must have loved that car,” they were driving again, Caitlyn at the wheel. Vi hadn’t smiled that night, she couldn’t keep her eyes open. “It was a gift, wasn’t it? From Vander?”

“Why are you asking me questions you already know the answers to?”

The princess pursed her lips. I’m not shy, I’ll say it… “I’ve only ever heard Vi’s version of events, and I hate the thought that she may have lied to me.”

Snake.

“I’m sure there’s a lot Vi didn’t tell you,” Jinx scoffed. “She wouldn’t be so fuckable if you knew the truth.”

“What’s the truth, Jinx? I’d like to hear it.”

“Vi didn’t even know how to drive, Vander had to teach her.”

“Careful! Careful, Vi!”

Powder gripped the back of the driver’s seat, delighted.

“Did he teach you as well?”

Jinx nodded, resting her head against the window, blinking the colors away. “Vi didn’t want me to drive her car…said I wasn’t ready…but I was pretty good, figured it out faster than she did.”

“What was she wearing that night?”

 “OK, let’s—let’s go then,” she slurred, arms threading through the sleeves of her varsity jacket without coordination. Sloppy.

“It was cold…” Jinx remembered. “But she was…” her hands squeezed Powder’s wrists. Warm. “Mine were bloody.”

“Your clothes?”

“Keep up,” Jinx snapped. How fuckin rude to ask but not listen.

“I’m sorry,” Caitlyn apologized.

That made it worse.

Worse.

Worse now that they were on an open country road.

“Where’r we goin’?” Vi tried to sit up straighter in the—,

Jinx blinked, resetting the memory.

Vi behind the wheel, Vi’s foot on the throttle, Vi in control.

Always.

Vi in control.

“Why did she take you out here?”

Escape.

“We had to go.”

“Go where, Jinx?”

“Away.”

They were moving faster now, Vi’s—Caitlyn’s foot slamming down on the gas pedal, the world blurring around them.

“S—slow down, Vi.”

Slurring, why? Her voice sounded wrong.

“Hey, Pow, ease up, OK?”

No. Wrong.

“Slow down, Vi!”

Caitlyn wasn’t listening. Caitlyn hadn’t heard her. Caitlyn wasn’t gonna stop. She wasn’t gonna—

The headlights caught the tree’s bark in the moonlight, standing eerily beside the road, a mirage, a respite, an escape.

“Powder!”

Vi’s hands wrenched the wheel away from her grasp.

I wanna end me.

Jinx gasped, the memory locking into place like an unfinished song lyric, spilling out of the passenger seat—Powder from the driver’s—crawling over the grass on her hands and knees.

The Challenger burned behind her, horn blaring.

I wanna end me.

“Jinx, breathe,” the voice wasn’t right. Too cold, too soft.

Ragged, splintered, each breath like a knife to her chest.

“Powder!” Vi stumbled, bloody sneakers catching on the grass, sending her to her knees beside her. “What did you do?!”

Angry. Scared. Unforgiving.

“What did you do?!”

Her hands were unkind. Unfamiliar.

“I don’t wanna be me anymore,” she sobbed.

And she wasn’t. She was Jinx as soon as the word left Vi’s mouth. The name branded on her skin by the fire that raged behind them, the oil that painted their skin.

“Please don’t leave me I don’t wanna go without you, please,” terror, terrified. “Vi, please, I can’t get them to stop I don’t wanna be here, I—,”

She expected the slap, but there were soft hands on her face instead, cupping her cheeks. Dulling the sound of the impact. Blue eyes twisting the memory, mutating the horror on Vi’s face.

“Jinx,” smooth, Ekko was the only one who said her name like that.

But he wasn’t here and the voice was wrong.

“Look at me,” Caitlyn said, wiping the scene away. Her Porsche untouched, deep blue paint sparkling in the sunlight, Jinx recognizing Powder’s same pale reflection. “Breathe, Jinx. Look at me.”

She blinked.

Here.

I’m here.

“You’re here,” Caitlyn said, thumbs tracing the apples of her cheeks. “Will you come back to me? Be here with me?”

“Liar!” Jinx sobbed.

“He lied to you, Jinx,” Caitlyn’s tone was even, determined. Unimpeachable. “He lied to you all this time to keep you under his control, to keep you apart.”

“No,” she shook, she broke, she sewed herself back together. “He wouldn’t.”

“But he did, Jinx, he did,” an elegant thumb wiped the tears from her eyes. “He took you from her. He poisoned you against each other. Silco did that. Silco.”

“No! He would never hurt me!”

A forehead pressed against hers, hands held fast. “But he did,” she repeated. “He played marionette with your broken pieces, used you, weaponized your own mind against you. How cruel he’s been, Jinx. How terribly cruel.”

“She sent me away!”

“To save you, and it’s tortured her every day since.”

“It’s gonna be OK. I’ll fix it, I promise.”

The ambulance door slammed shut.

Divided them.

“She didn’t, she didn’t fix it.”

“That was his design, Jinx.”

Liar.

6 years, stolen.  

Thief.

“Don’t let him take anything else from you,” she whispered. Saint Caitlyn, champion of the damned.

My lucifer is lonely…

How far that fall from heaven must have been.

There’s nothing left to save now.

Chapter Text

“I’d like to call Vi. I think you two should—,”

“No.”

“Jinx…”

“Take me home.”

“Jinx, it’s important that you two—,”

There was a harsh hand on her jaw, lithe fingers squeezing. “I said, quit while you’re ahead, Cupcake.”

/

Guilt was like a parasite. A horrible, tortured thing. Feeding, magnifying, exacerbating…leaving Caitlyn restless, robbing her of sleep, tying her stomach into knots.

Not guilt over what Caitlyn had done, exactly, though she understood the method was questionable. She understood she’d crossed several lines, understood she wasn’t a psychologist, that perhaps it wasn’t her truth to tell…but it was out there, now. Reality, unmarred by the shimmer of Silco’s deceit.

If the truth could truly set one free, Jinx was finally on the right path, or had at least been prompted in the right direction, as traumatizing as it was. Perhaps not cause for celebration, but some modicum of relief. Caitlyn had done her part and was prepared to face the consequences.

But the bed was empty when Caitlyn awoke, just as it had been when she’d succumbed to sleep. Vi had been in the studio well past midnight, and it wasn’t a conversation Caitlyn was comfortable having over text…wasn’t a conversation Jinx wanted them to have whatsoever. She’d made a promise in the grass beside the road, their knees muddied by the damp soil. This epiphany was theirs alone, for now, and it would be Jinx’s decision how and when Vi came to know.

Caitlyn rose with a stretch, operating on less sleep than she was used to, dreams haunted by Powder’s image, a life cut short, stolen. Returned damaged and too late, far too late. She’d dreamed of screeching tires and desperate pleas. Blue eyes that narrowed from innocent to evil like a coin had been flipped, angel or demon. A soulless existence, hatred and resentment molded into the shape of a cruel young woman.

She’d assumed Vi was in the gym, as it was nearing 10am and that was her typical routine, even though she’d been out late. Ritual was important to Vi, some semblance of structure, one constant amongst the uncertainty.

But Vi wasn’t in the gym, Vi was in the kitchen. Vi was…cooking. Cooking food on an actual stovetop. Humming as she went, a tune Caitlyn was unfamiliar with.

She stopped short of the bar, standing strangely in open space, observing. Staring, really. Studying Vi’s relaxed body language, her hair wild in that accidently perfect way it tended to fall, the gray sweatpants that hung low on her hips, the white tank top that had ridden up above her waist, flashing the dimples on her lower back, the flawless lines of her impressive musculature and the scars that marred them.

Oh goodness, she’s perfect.

Caitlyn recycled the same thought she’d had at 16, the most genuine example of love at first sight she could imagine.

And she’s all mine.

“Good morning,” Caitlyn ventured, stepping forward, needing to press her thumbs to those dimples, run the tip of her nose up the line of machinery on her neck.

Vi turned, smiled. “Hey, you’re up.”

“A minor miracle, it would seem,” Cait smiled back, self-effacing, wrapping her arms around Vi’s waist from behind, resting her chin on her shoulder.

“Makes sense you’d need your beauty sleep,” Vi pressed a kiss to her cheek.

Caitlyn’s heart sped in her chest. “Why’s that?”

“’Cause you’re hot, Cupcake, thought you already knew,” Vi flipped the pancake semi-successfully, grinning at her victory. “How many do you think you’re gonna want?”

“Oh, um, I’ll start with just one.”

“Can do.”

“What inspired all this?” Cait wondered, releasing her slowly, a hand remaining on the exposed skin of Vi’s hip, needing to remain close, connected, craving her warmth, her touch.

“I finished my song,” Vi was smiling, standing like her body weighed nothing at all, like her shoulders had nothing to carry but the gravity that kept them there. “Actually wrote two.”

“Two?”

“Yeah,” Vi reached up to the cupboard to grab a plate so she could offload the pancake and pour more batter. “One for me and one for Powder.”

The guilt returned at the mention of that name, shattering the peaceful haze of domesticity Vi had curated.

“Mel and Jayce are gonna listen at the studio tonight, decide which one I should perform. You can come if you want. I’ll give you a vote.”

“A vote, you say? I fear I’ll go mad with power.”

Vi laughed, grabbing a fork from her silverware drawer, and sliding the finished pancake over to Caitlyn. “Eat.”

“Did you make this from a mix?”

“Nah, my own recipe. It’s basically just protein powder, a banana and eggs.”

Caitlyn’s eyes flitted to the pancake, suddenly weary.

“Christ, can you at least try it before you judge me?”

“I would never judge you, Violet.”

“You would, you’re doing it right now.”

Caitlyn gasped, appalled at the assertion. “I most certainly am not. I’m sure it will taste remarkably like a real pancake and not at all like rubber.”

Vi rolled her eyes, turning the burner off and folding her own ‘pancake’ like a taco before biting into it, sans condiments…or a place setting.

“Charming,” Caitlyn offered.

“Oh, sorry, I thought you liked my abs,” Vi teased around a mouthful of food.

“I love them,” Cait set the record straight.

“Necessary evil, then,” she bumped her pancake against the bite waiting on Cait’s fork. “Cheers.”

18^th of April 2015

I wonder if she prefers pancakes to waffles, I don’t believe she’s ever been asked that in an interview, but it’s a question I’d like the answer to. I’m desperate to know everything about her, and I feel I nearly do, but there are some questions left outstanding. Breakfast preferences, for instance. Personally, I prefer waffles. I enjoy the Belgian variety most of all.

“Have you…always preferred pancakes to waffles?”

Vi shrugged as she rinsed Cait’s plate off, filing it away in the dishwasher. “I guess.”

“You truly are a wordsmith.”

Chuckling, Vi elaborated, “Yeah, baby, I’ve always liked pancakes more. When Vander first signed us, we went to IHOP and he ordered me the bottomless stack. Never looked back. Pancakes all the way.”

Baby…

Caitlyn felt warmth flood her chest at the casual term of endearment.

I’m her baby…

“Is your favorite color still red?” she found herself asking.

Vi glanced over her shoulder, eyebrow raised. “Probably, yeah. I like blue too, and black.”

“Black’s a shade,” Cait corrected.

Vi frowned, shutting the dishwasher and starting the cycle. “Oh.”

“Why blue?”

Gesturing towards her, Vi said, “Your eyes.”

22^nd of May 2015

On Wikipedia, it says her eyes are blue, but now that I’ve seen them in person, I can say with utmost confidence her eyes are grey. They’re so lovely. Like storm clouds that have just expelled their moisture. I wish I’d had the chance to gaze at them longer, to memorize them better. Someday, maybe. Maybe if I was more of something to look at, something that enticed her…maybe then she’d look longer.

Vi tried to hide her smile behind her coffee mug, but Caitlyn noticed everything.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“No, I do believe it’s something.”

“Your hair,” Vi finally revealed with a laugh, reaching forward to tuck a strand behind her ear. “You’ve got, like, fuckrats and I wasn’t even home last night.”

“I have what?”

“Fuckrats,” Vi explained like it was the most innocent term in the world. “Little knots in your hair.”

“W—Violet, the civilized among us call that ‘bedhead’.”

“Civilized, huh?” Vi’s smile turned sly. “Is that what you are?”

“Well, yes, I—,”

“Civilized,” Vi repeated, pressing Caitlyn’s hips back against the counter. “I don’t know about all that, Cupcake…”

6^th of July 2015

I had a dream I was able to hold her. It sounds silly, but every time I see her on the news now, that’s my natural inclination. She looks so broken, so empty. I hate to see her sad. She made a mistake! Blessedly, no one was hurt. I wish the media would leave her alone. I wish she’d smile again.

“Don’t be embarrassed…” Vi breathed the words out against the shell of Cait’s ear, inspiring a whimper, a shiver. “It’s hot, you walking into my kitchen like you own the place.”

Cait attempted to swallow at the implication, the acknowledgment of how shared this space had become, this home. “I have come to feel rather…comfortable here,” she chose her words carefully, not wanting to overstep, overplay her hand.

“Yeah, in the bathroom especially,” Vi laughed, nipping at her earlobe. “My tiles miss your knees.”

Caitlyn squeezed her thighs together at the memory of that night. “Don’t be so crude.”

“I don’t think you mind,” Vi challenged. “If I lifted you up on the counter right now, I think you’d take my fingers no problem.”

Nodding eagerly, Cait began to lift herself onto the counter before she realized how effectively she’d proven Vi’s point.

Vi bit her lip, watching the mental journey play out across Cait’s face. “You wanna move in with me?”

Cait stopped, blinked, blushed. “Me?”

“Uh, no, my other girlfriend,” Vi laughed. “Yes, you, Cupcake.” When Caitlyn’s silence stretched on, Vi’s confidence faltered. “Sorry, I—is that not how you’re supposed to ask? I’ve never done it before.”

“No, that’s—yes, that’s—,” Cait forced her heartrate under control. “I’m—I wasn’t expecting—,”

Vi’s gaze dropped, her shoulders shrugging. “I just…I don’t know…I miss you, on the nights you don’t stay here. You can say no, it’s cool, maybe I asked too soon. I guess that’s a pretty big step, huh?”

The perfect step. I’ve never wanted anything more.

…besides perhaps her law degree, but it seemed considerably less important in this moment.

“You truly want to live with me?”

Vi’s eyes found hers again, and she nodded, shy but determined. “If you feel like it, yeah.”

“Oh, Violet, I—,” take a deep breath, Caitlyn, you aren’t being proposed to. Although this is the natural first step… She squealed.

Out loud.

Unfortunately.

Vi took a step back like she was startled by the sound, but Caitlyn hadn’t the patience for indecision in her current state, so she grabbed Vi by the hips and yanked their bodies back together, kissing her hungrily, a whispered ‘yes’ in there somewhere.

11^th of December 2015

I wonder what her hands would feel like on my skin. There are callouses on her fingers from playing the guitar, scabs and bruises on her knuckles from boxing (her favorite form of cardio). Can touch be rough and soft at the same time?

“Your dad’s gonna be pretty broken up about it,” Vi lamented.

“Can we please not discuss my father right now?” Caitlyn begged, shoving Vi back on the couch and climbing onto her lap, not wanting the complete wish fulfillment of her adolescent fantasies to be sullied by the image of her father, the memory of him smiling kindly, mournfully when Cait had first called Vi her soulmate. The subtle shake of his head, the chuckle in his sigh. He’d thought her silly, even if he hadn’t said it, his eyebrows raised in a silent joke with her mother when they’d returned home from the concert.

But here I am.

Here she is.

Mine.

Cait took her own shirt off as she settled, leaving her naked from the waist up, her knees bracketing Vi’s strong thighs.

Vi’s gaze immediately fell to her breasts, as it so often did, desire laid bare, and Caitlyn felt a rush of arousal seep out of her.

She wants me.

Me.

And not just like this.

She wants me in her life. She misses me when I’m gone, she craves me, my body, my presence…she loves me.

But it wasn’t enough to be wanted, to be craved, to be loved.

Caitlyn wanted Vi to lay claim to her. To own, to possess, to fuck. She’d wanted it since she was 16 years old, since she’d realized what she was, what Vi could be to her—in another life, in another time. And she’d arrived, someway, somehow.

“Claim me,” Caitlyn breathed between wet, heady kisses, Vi’s rough hands trailing soft patterns up and down the column of her spine. “Make me yours.”

Fantasy would never compare, the stories, scenarios others had imagined, the ones Caitlyn had indulged in, late at night beneath her plush comforter, the dim screen of her laptop the only light in her room, out of shame, out of guilt. Her interests diversifying, mutating, maturing the more she read, consumed.

—Vi bit through the girl’s supple skin with her sharp canines, more prominent thanks to her rut—

They’d never know. No one else would ever know what it felt like to have Vi’s hands on them. Vi’s mouth. Caitlyn would make sure of it.

Caitlyn, who she loved. Caitlyn, who she shared a bed with. Caitlyn, who she’d share a home with, if this wasn’t all some cruel hallucination.

Vi buried her face between Caitlyn’s breasts, kissing and nipping and sucking, eyes closed, lost to her own pleasure. Pleasure gained by Caitlyn’s taste, the feel of her.

“Your tits are incredible”, she’d said that first night, with all the sincerity she’d possessed. And she’d spent nearly all of their relationship since then assuring Caitlyn she’d meant it.

Cait moaned when Vi finally reached her nipple, warm mouth closing around the stiff peak, licking and biting. Goodness, the sucking.

She placed her own hand beneath her breast, guiding it further into Vi’s mouth, the slender fingers of her other hand twisting in Vi’s hair, holding her there.

“Yes,” she whispered. “I love you, Violet, I love your mouth.”

Harder, please, suck harder.

“Love you too, baby,” Vi mumbled against her.

“H—harder with your—please.”

“With my what?” Vi broke the seal once more to ask, looking up at her, mischief in her expression.

Cait ground down on her lap rather than answering, but Vi stilled her hips with a firm squeeze.

“Your parents aren’t here, they can’t hear us,” Vi reminded her, sparing a lick to Cait’s straining nipple. “This is our house, remember? I wanna hear you.”

Our house.

Ours.

Caitlyn moaned at that phrase alone, finding the courage she usually reserved for later in these proceedings. “Please, my darling, suck harder. I can’t stand to be teased.”

Not needing to be told twice, Vi obeyed, her cheeks hollowing with the effort. Caitlyn tipped her head back, hand tightening in Vi’s hair, panties completely soaked through. Vi suckled like she was trying to take something from her, consume her, drink her down.

—“Turn around,” Vi demanded, pressing the girl against the wall and tearing her panties off, her erection pressing into the girl’s thigh. “You ready for me, Omega?”—

Caitlyn’s fist tightened in the bedsheet, feeling her innocence slip from her grasp, the words on the screen turning to detailed images in her mind. Caitlyn pressed against that wall. Caitlyn dripping, wanting, needing.

Vi grabbed her ass, encouraging the movement of her hips. “You ready for me, Cupcake?”

“Oh, please,” Cait whined. “I need you.”

Moving her panties to the side, Vi entered her with two fingers, the motion smooth, easy. “Damn,” Vi whistled, reaching deep and curling. “I should ask you to move in every day, you’re fuckin’ drenched, baby.”

Cait began to ride her fingers, quickly losing the battle to her own desperation at the feeling of Vi’s hand on her ass and her fingers inside her.

More.

“Stretch me, mold me to the shape of you.”

She didn’t realize she’d said that out loud until she heard a, “damn, alright,” from Vi.

Her eyes flew open then, mortified, still unable to trust her lust clouded mind. Vi was blushing, her jaw slack, mouth open only slightly, eyes alight with that now familiar desire—to satisfy, to destroy and to rebuild in her own image. To mark, permanently.

That’s what Caitlyn wanted. She wanted this moment marked, wanted to come out the other side different, affected.

She was sure they’d come up with better means of celebration later. Sure champagne would be popped, a nice dinner would be consumed, gentle, affectionate kisses would be shared.

But Caitlyn wasn’t ready for that, not yet. First, she wanted to be ruined.

Ruined, a privilege Caitlyn was afforded because she’d been chosen.

“I need your cock; I need it buried inside of me. I want to be sore with the memory of it.”

—Vi buried herself to the hilt without asking for permission, fucking the girl roughly with her big, thick—

Everything the concept of Vi was to her then, everything the woman Vi was to her now, colliding.

Vi seemed not to be used to such coherent debauchery because she tried to play it off as a joke. “Dang, you have a crush on me or something, Ms. Kiramman?”

But Caitlyn was feeling terribly earnest, so she leaned down, sinking her teeth into the tattoo on Vi’s neck and sucking until she was sure a bruise would form. “Don’t make me beg, please.”

Vi’s breath hitched. “And if I want you to?”

“I will.”

“Shit.”

“I’ll make sure it feels good for you, too.”

“It always feels good for me, Cait,” Vi brushed a thumb along her cheekbone. “I really love you; you know that?”

Cait nodded, having to bite her lip, force the fog from her mind to attempt a coherent conversation with Vi’s fingers still inside her.  “You make me so happy,” she whispered with whatever breath she had left. “Thank you for being brave, for trusting me with your heart.”

“I don’t, um,” Vi cleared her throat, suddenly bashful. “I can be soft, you know. Sweet and stuff.”

“I know that.” Cait searched her face. “Are you—sorry,” she rose onto her knees, allowing Vi’s fingers to slip free of her. “Is that what you’d like to do this morning?” Cait felt suddenly self-conscious of the graphic nature of her earlier desires. “That’s—that’s fine too, that would be lovely. I didn’t—oh, goodness, if I implied your fingers were inadequate, I’m so terribly sorry, that was not my—,”

“No, no! That’s not—shit, my bad,” Vi apologized, pulling Cait back down onto her lap. “I didn’t know if move-in sex was supposed to be sweet or not. I’m an idiot, sorry. I was just, like, imagining myself fucking you raw on like our honeymoon or whatever and I wasn’t sure if that was normal.”

“Our—our honeymoon?”

“Well, yeah, like…you know, life’s big moments. The stuff from jewelry store commercials.”

Caitlyn’s heart threatened to beat out of her chest.

Make me yours, make me yours, make me yours.

“Violet,” she reached forward with slightly shaky hands, cupping Vi’s face. “When I say I love you, that means trusting you with my heart as well as my body. I don’t believe there’s any one way to celebrate this important milestone in our relationship, I—,” feel so empty and want to be filled, want to be so full of your love it spills out of me “—simply want to be close to you, in whatever way you’ll have me.”

Vi grinned, seeming relieved. “Cool.”

Cait smiled back, the knot in her stomach loosening, her shame waning. “Indeed.”

“OK, so I’m gonna grab the biggest one and fuck you til’ I’m satisfied, sound good?”

“Yes,” Cait agreed with a rapid nod of her head. “Please, that’s—that’s exactly what I want.”

As Vi stood, Cait wrapped her legs around her waist, arms clutching at her strong shoulders, carried easily to the bedroom despite their height difference.

The novelty of that would never wear.

Caitlyn read that sentence over and over again, her hand slipping below the waistband of her sleep shorts, but she instantly recoiled at the moisture she found there. It felt wrong, to think of her like this. To lust after someone she’d never truly know. An ideal, an archetype. She’d never be real to Caitlyn, no matter how many scenarios she imagined. No matter how many of these terribly dirty stories she read, wrote. She’d never love her back.

…but if she did…

If she did love her back…

What would it feel like?

She was so full, so incredibly satisfied, and yet…empty, empty still. Her body still desperate, mind restless. She wanted—she needed—, “More,” Cait begged. “Give me more, stuff me full, I want to—I want to feel you everywhere, I want—oh!” she cried out, clenching tight around Vi’s cock as her lubricated finger prodded at her other entrance, easing its way inside. “Baby, baby, baby—I—oh—that’s so—that’s so much, you’re so good—I’m so—,”

“Cait…” Vi groaned, reverent.

“I’ve never been—no one’s ever—Vi!” she squealed when Vi surpassed the first knuckle, though she didn’t venture any deeper, those rather thick two inches providing plenty of stimulation as Cait continued to bounce on Vi’s lap, impaling herself on Vi’s cock, taking her from tip to hilt each time.

Useful, used, good. Irreplaceable, irredeemable, dirty, needy, fulfilled, satisfied, something different than the Caitlyn she’d been with the women before Vi, the placeholders.

She was becoming lightheaded, high off the intoxicating mix of pain and pleasure. The sting and the stretch, the—,

“You’re so perfect, Cait, fuck,” Vi swore, thrusting up into her now, meeting Cait halfway and amplifying every sensation in the process. “God, I used to have this fantasy when we were—ugh, fuck!—taking a break where I’d fill you up like this and—oh my god, the real thing is so much better.”

Caitlyn increased her speed at the thought, the realization that Violet had been holding back before, that there were fantasies she had yet to act out. That Caitlyn could give her more, could give her everything.

Do your worst. Make me yours. Take me, claim me, use me. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me. Make me come, come inside me, breed me—,

With a particularly hard thrust and aided by those obscene words swirling in her head, Caitlyn clenched hard around the dildo, coming with nearly a scream, and collapsing forward onto her elbows, Vi’s finger sliding free in the process.

Before she could come down from her high, Vi was yanking her onto all fours by her hair, slipping a finger back inside her—a thumb this time, based on the thickness—and delivering a hard smack to her ass cheek before she continued thrusting, chasing her own pleasure now.

Caitlyn had never felt so thoroughly used, so thoroughly spent.

She loved it.

“Yes, baby, take what you—take what you need. Use me—I’m your—I’m yours. Don’t stop until you’re satisfied—don’t stop until you’ve finished, I—ah! You’re going to make me come again. You feel so good, you—,”

Cait felt her pleasure boil over once more, and that seemed to be enough for Vi, who finished with a final animalistic shove of her hips and a grunt, sprawling over Cait’s back and again freeing her hand from her tighter hole, though she kept the dildo sheathed inside her as their breathing synchronized.

Caitlyn belonged. To something besides the Kiramman name. To some greater cause. Someone had seen her. Someone had chosen her.

Violet…

Caitlyn was the first to speak, her face still pressed halfway into the bed. “I’m not sure I can come to the studio tonight.”

Vi pressed a sweaty kiss between Cait’s shoulder blades before propping herself up. “Why not?”

“The idea of facing my mother after what we just did is…not something I believe I’m built for.”

Vi laughed heartily, inspiring the butterflies in Cait’s stomach to take flight, even as Vi pulled out, loosening the harness and collapsing back in a heap, arm slung lazily around Caitlyn. “You sure that wasn’t too much?”

“I do believe I was begging for it.”

“I’ll make sure your mom knows your consent was super enthusiastic.”

“You will do nothing of the sort.”

Chapter Text

Vi willed herself away from the outside world, allowing her eyes to slip closed, the small audience fading to shadows, narrowing her existence to this. Just this. Viktor on the piano bench beside her, lulling her with soft keystrokes.

Here, on stage, she’d always been comfortable, confident. This was her domain, her little escape, more so than even her gym, her bedroom…because this had never really been hers. This had belonged to Violet only briefly. Violet and Powder. Powder-Keg. Vi and Jinx. The natural snowball effect of untapped potential harvested until the well ran dry. The foster kid to superstar to fuckin embarrassment pipeline—a road to some niche circle of hell paved with optimism and the worst of intentions.

The stage belonged to Vi, and people liked Vi. Loved her, even. Paid to breathe the same air as her.

“Everybody knows my name now / but somethin’ bout it still feels strange / like lookin’ in a mirror, tryna steady yourself / and seein’ somebody else—,”

Violet was allowed to wear her clothes…her skin…smile her smile…fuck the women who wanted Vi, sign her name on their posters…

But that love, that deep, passionate affection…that didn’t extend to Violet.

Silco and Sevika had made sure to remind her of that, nearly every day.

“—And everything is not the same now / it feels like all our lives have changed / maybe when I’m older, it’ll all calm down / but it’s killing me now—,”

Violet was not loved.

“What if you had it all / but nobody to call? / maybe then you’d know me—,”

Violet had Powder, and Powder was perfect, but she was broken.

“—Cause I’ve had everything / but no one’s listening / and that’s just fucking lonely…”

And then…she had no one.

“I’m so lonely / lonely.”

How weird to be chosen, but also left behind. How weird to be peeled back, ripped apart, sewed back together with none of the right pieces. How weird to become the villain of everyone’s story overnight. Of Powder’s story. Jinx’s story.

Violet’s.

“Everybody knows my past now / like my house was always made of glass / and maybe that’s the price you pay / for the money and fame at an early age—,”

Because after the crash, even Vi was unlovable.

“—And everybody saw me sick / and it felt like no one gave a shit / they criticized the things I did as an idiot kid…”

Mel had asked that she write a song for herself.

Herself.

A complicated instruction, it turned out, because she was still trying to find that middle ground. Find that spot where Vi and Violet met. Where they overlapped.

“—What if you had it all / but nobody to call? / maybe then you’d know me—,”

It was here, it turned out. On this piano bench, singing this song, for Mel and Jayce and Cassandra, Viktor and Sky…Caitlyn. Here, she could be honest. Here, she was exactly who she needed to be, and it felt…uh…raw.

“—but no one’s listening—,”

Here, she was vulnerable.

Here, she was loved. By all of them, in their own way.

And by Cait most of all.

Completely, wholly, endlessly.

“I’m so lonely / lonely / I’m so lonely / lonely…”

Caitlyn, who stood with tears in her eyes to clap as soon as the last note left Vi’s lips. As soon as Viktor removed his hands from the piano keys.

Jayce whistled, Cassandra nodded, Mel smiled that warm, proud smile.

And Vi knew then it was all a lie.

Because…she wasn’t. Lonely. Not anymore.

Vi smiled at the applause, bashful, feeling like she had at her first few open mics as a teenager, like this was all brand new somehow.

“I prefer that one,” Cassandra decided. “A final tug at the heartstrings after your television interview. An effective last word.”

Mel nodded along with what Cassandra was saying before turning to Jayce, one eyebrow raised. “What’s your vote?” she asked.

“Mm…I’d go with the first one,” he decided. “More visual opportunities, I think. That’s Jinx’s strong suit, obviously, let’s take the fight to her.”

“Caitlyn?”

Vi watched as Cait shifted from one foot to the other, hands clasped in front of her. “I believe it’s far more important what you think, Vi. But I suppose I selfishly wonder…are you….” she pursed her lips, struggling to rephrase. “Which feels the most truthful? For this moment in time, I mean.”

There was hope in her expression, maybe a little desperation.

I’m not alone when I’m with you, Cait.

“Lonely is for…it’s for me at 18,” Vi answered. “I don’t—I don’t think I’m empty like that anymore, but it still felt good to write it.”

Mel was nodding again, preparing her final word. “It’s a beautiful song, Vi. Both are.”

But, we’re going to go with one off the album.

But, the audience will want to hear Yummy.

But, no body wants to hear your fuckin sob story.

“Cait is right,” Mel continued. “Ultimately, the choice is yours. I need a confession from you, Vi, not simply a performance. Your interview was the closest the public has ever seen to honesty from you, and if we follow it with something contrived, we’ll lose the battle and the war. This must be our silver bullet.”

Vi’s attention dropped to her hands, studying the scars on her knuckles.

“Are these from the crash?” Cait wondered, elegant finger tracing the clouds of blisters long since healed.

“Yeah,” Vi murmured, watching as Cait’s lips followed the same path. “Oil sticks to your skin.”

“I think she needs it more than me,” Vi finally answered, meeting Mel’s eyes. “I’m not alone anymore, and even having you guys hear that…it—that’s all I needed. I’d rather sing for Powder, I’m not—I’m all scarred over. Like, maybe I didn’t heal perfectly, you know, but…I’m OK. She’s…I can tell she’s still hurting.”

Mel’s smile was subtle, but so soft it made Vi want to look away. She didn’t. “Understood. I suppose it’s decided then, as long as…I assume that’s alright with you, Cassandra?”

Cassandra sighed, rising to her feet. “I would prefer not to give that performative heathen any more airtime, but if we must, it being on our terms is ideal. If we can control the narrative, you’re free to perform what you please, Vi.”

Vi didn’t really know what to do with the warmth in her chest. “Thanks, Cassandra.”

“Yes, well,” the older woman shouldered her purse, glancing between Vi and Caitlyn. “I’m…impressed by your development, and by your work ethic. You may take this latitude as a token of my sincere appreciation for a difficult job well done. Caitlyn?” she turned to her daughter. “Shall we expect you for dinner? Your father and I were planning to go out.”

“Um, well, actually…I was hoping Vi could be invited too,” Cait’s hands twisted, shoulders sloping a little, chin dipping. “We have some news we’d like to discuss.”

Vi tried not to laugh at Cait making dinner with her parents sound like they were being drafted.

Cassandra’s eyes narrowed, growing suddenly cold. “You’re not pregnant, are you?”  

“W—h—Mother, we’re lesbians. How would that even work?” Cait demanded like that was a ridiculous notion, like she didn’t beg Vi to somehow finish inside her almost every time they used the strap.

“You’re lucky it’s plastic,” Vi said…like, out of her mouth. Verbally, audibly. For everyone to hear.

Caitlyn blushed, Jayce found an interesting spot on the ceiling, Viktor remained content going completely unnoticed.

“Quite,” was Cassandra’s response.

OK, so maybe a little self-loathing was healthy.

/

In the end, Caitlyn was brave. She told them just before the main course was served, her hand held fast in Vi’s.

“Violet and I have decided to live together,” she’d said, earning an arched brow from her mother, a genuinely confused, “Come now, Caitlyn, I’m sure Vi doesn’t want to leave her house for your childhood bedroom,” from her father.  

Vi pushed her salad around her plate as her girlfriend spoke, wondering if it was fair to take Cait from the people she loved, wondering if they’d even last anyway, figuring Cait would get sick of her pretty quick if there was nowhere to escape to.

“Do you truly think this wise, Caitlyn? And is this the right time? In the thick of your studies, and despite everything still going on in Vi’s life?”

“We’re in love, mother,” was Cait’s simple explanation.

“And if that’s not enough?”

“Was it enough for you and dad?”

“Barely, my darling,” Tobias answered.

“I’m ready for the next step.”

“I’m sure you are, Caitlyn,” Tobias said. “But is Vi?”

All eyes were on her, then. Cait and her mother’s that same shade of blue, holding the same question in, like, different fonts.

Are you ready?  

You’re ready, aren’t you?

Tobias’ brown eyes held more of a prayer than a question.

Please be ready. Before you take her, please be ready.

“I am,” Vi said, more confident in her answer than her voice. “I’m ready, I—I love your daughter. Maybe more than I’ve ever loved anyone and—it’s—I don’t want to mess that up but I—I started thinking about the future for the first time in a long time, like, planning for it, and…she’s there. Cait’s there for all of it in my—in my head. So I asked her to move in and she said yes, and I feel really happy. She makes me happy.”

Cassandra pursed her lips, digesting that. “I don’t suppose you would consider waiting at least until Caitlyn has earned her degree?”

“The degree you preferred I not get in the first place?” Cait clarified.

“The very same.”

“If you’re worried about Vi being a distraction from my studies, she has plenty of rooms for me to hole myself away in.”

Vi really wished she hadn’t said ‘hole’ because now she was a little distracted. “My office is all hers, I never use it anyway.”

“Well, I had to ask,” Cassandra acquiesced.

“I get it,” Vi acknowledged. “And I get it if you don’t totally trust me, guess I don’t have an awesome track record.”

“I trust you, Vi,” Tobias assured her. “I can see you care deeply for our Caitlyn, and I know from that track record you mentioned you wouldn’t have posed the question if your mind wasn’t made up. My only concern is, do you trust yourself?”

Cait was watching her closely; Cassandra was fluffing her napkin.

Vi had never been asked that question before, but she found the honest answer was: “I’m starting to.” And that seemed to be good enough.

/

Mel told them on the car ride over that Ekko and Jinx wouldn’t be performing their nominated duet. Vi didn’t know what that meant, but she watched Cait shift uncomfortably at the news.

She didn’t know what that meant either.

“Did they say why?” Vi asked, eyes flitting from Mel to Cait and back again.

Mel shook her head. “No.”

“You’ll perform ‘Stay’ in the same slot, just after Ekko’s solo,” Jayce explained, skipping to the logistics, there wasn’t time for much else. “But you’re going to have a lot less time before your solo performance, so you need to be completely dialed in.”

“Yeah, OK,” Vi nodded, trying to get her head in the game. Trying not to notice how Cait wasn’t quite looking at her.

“Vi?” Mel spoke.

“Yeah?”

“It’s fine. Everything is going to work itself out.”

“Is she performing, like, at all?”

“She has the last song on the program,” Mel said.

The last word.

“And it’s—it’s gonna be OK?” Vi found herself asking, leg bouncing. “Not like last time, right?”

“No, Vi, not like the last time,” Mel assured. “Your song is for her, remember? Our last olive branch. She’d be wise to take it.”

She was blinded by flashing cameras as soon as the door to the limo opened, which turned out to be a blessing because it didn’t leave her much room to think.

This was well practiced.

This, with a hand on Cait’s lower back and a smile at the camera, was a ritual she had down, at this point. Cait now well trained beside her.

She liked ritual. She liked predictable. She liked Cait. And so she moved down the red carpet with ease, allowing her nerves to shake loose.

Her performances were scheduled towards the middle of the program, just before the Pop Duo category was announced, which left her a little while to sit with her team and watch the other artists, but not enough time to relax.

Everyone and their manager wanted to make small talk with her, seeking Vi out at the commercial breaks, telling her they’d watched her interview, saying it had moved them to tears. Old features apologizing for not reaching out when the shit hit the fan. Too little, too late, but still something.

Cait grabbed her hand as she left her seat to head backstage, looking up at her with wide eyes, communicating a depth of feeling that Vi didn’t totally understand. “She’s ready to listen.”

Vi found herself frowning, trying to decode that sentence, but then she was being escorted away.  

“Hey,” Jayce said, squeezing her forearm as she was guided out of their row. “You’ve got this. Audience of one, remember?”

Right.

Ekko stood in front of a singular mic stand, dressed in a tank top made to look like it was cut by hand, an electric guitar strapped to his back, stage empty besides a bassist in a monkey mask, hood pulled over their head, anonymous.

She missed him, she realized. He’d become a good friend, a confidant…but he’d been fed the same bullshit as Jinx, so he might be lost forever. Vi wished she could understand the point of all this besides control. Wished she could find a motive for what Silco had done that wasn’t simply to be a massive asshole, to rob Powder of her only support system, to create an artist, a woman in his image.

Guess he’d succeeded.

Ruined lives in the process, but those didn’t really matter when money was involved, the matter of ownership…

Cogs in the machine.

Vi watched from backstage as the song began with just the baseline and Ekko’s vocals.

“Three sides to the story / yours and mine and the goddamn truth, girl / two lies that you told me / say you love me then you hate me I don’t know what to do, girl—,”

He added a clap overhead for percussion.

“One thing’s for sure / you can back that ass up and, baby, I want more / but I need to know / can you make me a promise to always be honest?”

More drums were piped in, and the bassist lulled their head with the beat, as much a showcase for them as it was for Ekko.

“Fucked up, you put my heart in a headlock / usually it’s me that only wanna make the bed rock / stuck up like a robbery with red dots / really no surprise you tellin’ lies to make my head hot—,”

He turned to the bassist then, watching them play like this was nothing more formal than a jam session in his garage, though he gripped the microphone in both hands for the bridge:

“You know what they say / every dog has his day / every bitch wanna play with me / you should be ashamed / ‘cause I would feel the same / if I did what you did to me…”

Ekko reached back, swinging the guitar up and over his head, the bassist taking their hands away from the strings entirely to simply sway and bang their head as he took over.

“Three sides to the story / yours and mine and the goddamn truth, girl—,”

Vi nodded along with them, losing herself in the performance as she watched Ekko and the bassist turn their backs to each other, tell a story with their fingers. A story Vi hoped didn’t belong to he and Jinx.

She needs him. If she can’t have me, I need her to have him.

“—Started with a kiss / ended with a dub / better if you leave ‘cause I feel better when you gone / diamonds on my wrist / feelings getting numb / thought you knew it all, so baby, why you playing dumb?”

Ekko had the crowd on their feet as he whistled the melody into his microphone, the bassist playing their last note, exiting after that, leaving Ekko on stage where Vi was supposed to join him.

Vi wasn’t sure what inspired her to glance over her shoulder as the bassist passed her, but as the hood was pulled down and the mask was taken off, Vi caught a glimpse of bright blue hair. Short, though, but still she…was about to miss her cue, fuck!

She entered to thunderous applause.

“When I’m away from you I miss your touch / you’re the reason I believe in love—,”

/

 Powder spun around whimsically on stage, taking in the arena. “I still think they might be pranking us,” she laughed, the sound cautious with disbelief, but so full of joy.

Vi shrugged, hands shoved deep into her pockets. “Maybe. Guess we’ll see.”

“I bet you we win,” Powder grinned.

“I wouldn’t get your hopes up, Pow.”

“Boo!” she blew a raspberry. “Why are you so scared all the time?”

“I’m not scared.”

“You are! You’re scared we’ll lose; I can tell. But if we don’t try, we’ll never win, so…you ever heard of a self-fulfilling prophecy?”

“You’re such a nerd,” Vi laughed, ruffling her hair.

“Nuh uh,” Powder disagreed, wrestling her hand away. “I just know how to read, there’s a difference.”

“I can read!”

“Yeah, sheet music.”

“I’ve read a book!”

“Uh huh, a book, singular. That’s a problem, sis.”

Vi rolled her eyes, successfully distracted from her anxiety. “Whatever.”

“Hey, Vi?”

“Hm?”

“It’s OK to be scared.”

7 years later, Vi was still scared. Still in awe of this arena. Still afraid to hope for something she might not get. But mostly scared that Cait was wrong. Scared that Jinx wasn’t ready to listen.

The world slowed down around her as she took her place on stage, surrounded by a white floor and white walls, dressed in a white hoodie and sweatpants, sitting behind a white plastic bucket. The cheapest drum set money could buy, or tiny hands could steal.

“$13…$14…$15…$16…$17…$17.25…$17.50…$17.60—Vi! We’re rich!”

“You know, this technically makes us professional musicians,” Vi pointed out, plopping down on the bucket they’d found in the dumpster that was now the most valuable item they owned.

Powder frowned.

“If people pay you for something, that makes you a professional,” Vi explained. “And we just made $17.60.”

Powder squealed. “Thank you, bucket!”

Vi gripped her drumsticks, waiting for the lights to come up.

“You’re my girls now,” Vander said, reaching to take the pen from Vi’s hand, but Vi gripped it tighter.

“Can I—is it OK if I keep this?”

“The pen?” he wondered.

Vi nodded.

His smile was kind. “Whatever you want, Kiddo.”

“OK, I’d like some ice cream, then,” Powder decided.  

The guitar riff began, and Vi took a breath, centering herself. Dialed in. The lights were bright, reflecting off the white background, casting shadows behind her.

“It’s crazy when / the thing you love the most is the detriment / let that sink in—,”

Vi licked her finger, cleaning the dirt from Powder’s forehead as she slept, peaceful despite the circumstances, despite the makeshift tent and the ratty blanket they used in shifts. “Sleep tight, Pow…”

“You can think again / when the hand you wanna hold is a weapon and / you’re nothin’ but skin—,”

“Shh…” Powder whispered in the dark. “Not now, please.”

Vi watched Powder plug her ears from the twin bed on the opposite side of the room, knowing those words weren’t meant for her. Weren’t meant for anyone.

A chorus of snaps joined the acoustic guitar, building a narrative.

“Oh, ‘cause I keep diggin’ myself down deeper / I won’t stop til I get where you are / I keep running, I keep running, I keep running…”

She spun them around, kissing the happy tears from Powder’s plump cheeks.

“We’re gonna be superstars, Vi!”

“They say I may be making a mistake / I would’ve followed all the way no matter how far—,”

Powder’s shoulders shook with silent tears, holding everything inside.

Vi waited for the eruption.

 “—I know when you go down all your darkest roads / I would’ve followed all the way to the graveyard…”

Vi raised her drumsticks, bringing them down on top of the white bucket, the red paint they’d poured there splashing with the rhythm, up onto her white clothing, her face.

“Oh, ‘cause I keep diggin’ myself down deeper / I won’t stop til I get where you are / I keep running when both my feet hurt / I won’t stop til I get where you are—”

“I’ve gotta go, Vi, we’ve gotta—please!”

“Oh, when you go down all your darkest roads / I would’ve followed all the way to the graveyard…”

Vi stood as the chorus finished, stepping over the bucket, spinning the drumstick in her hand, stained with the blood of an innocent long dead.

“You look at me / with eyes so dark, don’t know how they even see / you push right through me…”

She approached the front of the stage, finding her audience of one, imagining Powder—Jinx—rapt, gaze empty, vengeful, righteous…everything in between.

“It’s getting’ real / you lock the door, you’re drunk at the steering wheel / and I can’t conceal…”

Powder’s face behind clouded glass, arms trapped against her chest, sirens blaring—,

“—I keep running when both my feet hurt / I won’t stop til I get where you are / oh, when you go down all your darkest roads / I would have followed all the way to the graveyard.”

Vi found her mark at center stage.

“It’s funny how…”

“I love you, Vi,” Powder whispered. “Promise you’ll never leave me?”

“—the warning signs can feel—,”

“I’ll never leave you, Pow.”

“Even if you find someone prettier?”

“—like they’re butterflies.”

Vi took a gulping inhale, the stage lights shutting off, bathing her in blue light, the graffiti of Jinx’s warped childhood mind glowing on her white clothing, beneath the bloodstains.

Powder wuz here

The audience gasped along with her.

“—I would’ve followed all the way to the graveyard…”

Vi took her moment in the sun.

She cried when she and Ekko’s names were called as winners of the Pop Duo category, and she didn’t totally understand why. Maybe it was because she’d allowed herself to hope this time. She’d tried, and she’d won. Her hard work had been recognized by people she’d claimed to never care about. People whose approval she’d decided didn’t matter.

And it didn’t matter, they didn’t matter. But Ekko did. Two kids from Zaun had won a Piltie, together.

“We ate that shit up,” he breathed out a little laugh, voice thick with emotion as they held each other, the trophy pressing into Vi’s back when Ekko refused to let her go.

“In the grand scheme of things, I know this is just a shiny piece of metal,” Vi said into the microphone, gripping Ekko’s shoulder, keeping him close. “But right now it feels like validation. Imma let Ekko take it home to Zaun where it belongs.” Ekko whistled beside her, she smiled. “I want to say something super eloquent and whatever but—I’m just so happy, none of it would make sense, so I’m just gonna say thank you—thank you to everyone at Kiramman Records for believing in us, Cassandra, Mel, Jayce, Sky, Viktor…Cait, I love you so much, baby. I’m—you’re perfect—I’m sorry.”

Ekko clapped her on the back, wiping the tears from his eyes as he stepped in front of the microphone. “Her people are my people, so I won’t double up on the thank you’s, but we’re getting through this, alright? Ride or die, Jinx, that’s my promise. I know it’s all crumbling down around us, but you’re going home with a Piltie winner tonight, you hear that?”

The audience laughed, whooped, cheered, and they were played off victorious.

“Hey, hey,” Ekko stopped her once they’d left the stage together. “I’m sorry for all that.”

“All what?”

“I didn’t know. I do now. And I can’t imagine how bad that hurt, living a truth that only you realize.”

Vi’s blood ran cold. “Ekko, how do you—,”

He shook his head before she could finish the question. “You’ve gotta be there for her this time, Vi. She’s gonna need you after this.”

Caitlyn pulled her into a deep, passionate kiss as soon as she returned to her seat, Cait’s hands grasping at either side of her face. “I’m so proud of you,” she whispered against Vi’s lips. “You’re so incredibly talented.”

Vi melted into her, ignoring everything else, until it was Jinx’s turn to perform.

The arena went dark, and Vi braced herself, Cait’s grip tightening on her arm, preparing for return fire.

Jinx sat criss-cross applesauce at center stage, wearing a headset, hands resting in her lap. It began with a synthetic drumbeat, deep and trembling, with a sort of chattering added in every few measures that made Vi uneasy.

There was a harmony to the vocal despite Jinx being alone on stage—monstrous, ominous.

“What do you want from me? Why don’t you run from me? / what are you wondering? What do you know?”

She tilted her head innocently from side to side—curious—as she sang.

“Why aren’t you scared of me? Why do you care for me? / when we all fall asleep, where do we go?”

An animal made of lasers flashed behind her, she startled in the opposite direction, the instruments screamed.

“Come here….” That monstrous voice beckoned.

“Say it, spit it out, what is it exactly—,”

Jinx rolled backwards onto her knees, crawling forward.

“—you’re payin’? Is the amount cleanin’ you out, am I satisfactory? / today I’m thinkin’ about the things that are deadly / the way I’m drinkin’ you down / like I wanna drown, like I wanna end me—,”

Vi’s chest tightened.

Jinx found her feet, pacing the stage.

“Step on the glass, staple your tongue / bury a friend, try to wake up / cannibal class, killing the son / bury a friend…I wanna end me.”

The stage shook with the bass’ vibrations, that chattering persisted, now accompanied by a whinny like the horse of someone’s distinct nightmares. Vi felt it too, heart pounding.

Powder…

“I wanna end me—,” she skipped, stomped, frolicked, danced. “I wanna, I wanna, I wanna end me / I wanna, I wanna, I wanna—,”

Men in black flooded the stage—, “Listen,” the monster growled.

“Keep you in the dark, what had you expected?”

They grabbed at Jinx’s arms, pulling her hair, wrapping her braids around her neck.

“—me to make you my art and make you a star / and get you connected?”

Her hair had been fashioned into a noose, Jinx’s head lulling at a borderline unnatural angle as the tallest man pulled the braid tight.

“—I’ll meet you in the park / I’ll be calm and collected / but we knew right from the start that you’d fall apart / ‘cause I’m too expensive—,”

A metal operating table was wheeled out, propped up, and Jinx dragged backwards, bound to it by more lengths of synthetic blue braid.

“It’s probably somethin’ that shouldn’t be said out loud / honestly, I thought that I would be dead by now—,”

She tried to wrestle her arms free of the men restraining her, but there was no point, she was powerless.

Vi blinked the tears from her eyes, sending them running down her cheeks.

“—calling security, keeping my head held down / bury the hatchet or bury a friend right now…”

The operating table was hooked up to a rig that raised it off the ground, and Jinx’s vocal inflection changed, finding a different rhythm—softer now, sing-songy.

“The debt I owe, gotta sell my soul / ‘cause I can’t say no, no, I can’t say no—,” the table spun in place, turning Jinx upside down before righting her again, a glowing purple liquid flowing through the plastic tubes built into the braids that restrained her. “—then my limbs all froze and my eyes won’t close / no I can’t say no, no, I can’t say no—,”

“Careful…” the monster warned as Jinx tried again to free herself.

“Step on the glass, staple your tongue / bury a friend, try to wake up / cannibal class, killing the son / bury a friend…I wanna end me.”

She dropped from the table, falling painfully to her knees as the bass shook the stage again.

“I WANNA END ME!” Jinx screamed above her pre-recorded vocal track, slamming her fists on the ground, reaching out to no one. Reaching out to Vi, that night in the wet grass. “I wanna end me! I wanna, I wanna, I wanna end me!” snot and saliva flew from her nose and mouth, tears dribbling off her chin. “I wanna, I wanna, I wanna—,” she sobbed. “What do you want from me? / why don't you run from me? / what are you wondering? / what do you know? / why aren't you scared of me? / why do you care for me? /when we all fall asleep, where do we go?”

She keeled over into child’s pose once the music cut, resting her forehead on the stage, shoulders shaking.

Vi couldn’t be sure if the arena was completely silent or if it had erupted with rapturous applause, her pulse, the ringing in her ears, was too loud to discern anything else.

She was on her feet.

“Go,” Mel’s voice cut through the noise, or lack thereof. “Go ahead, Vi.”

Vi was running down the aisle, not understanding why security was moving out of her way, but not really caring either.

Jinx looked up at the last moment, watching Vi leap onto the stage.

She held her arms out, tears still running down her face, smearing her mascara.

“I’m so sorry, Violet,” she sobbed. “I’m so—,”

Violet held her like she should have that night. Like she should have every day since. Enveloping her in a tight embrace, firm, unwavering, letting her own tears flow freely, drip onto the exposed skin of Jinx’s shoulder.

“You’re not a Jinx,” Vi whispered. “You were just a kid.”

Jinx gasped and shuddered in her arms, and as the world quieted around them, the applause rang through loud and clear.

Deafening.

“He told me I was perfect,” Jinx sniveled. “But he lied. I’m so broken.”

Vi nodded, nuzzling into the crook of her sister’s neck, their chests pressed together, heaving in unison. “I’m here this time, Jinx. I won’t abandon you again.”

Chapter Text

A Kiramman Pictures production…

In association with Zaunite Studios…

Kiramman Records Foundling Center, Zaunite benefit concert

“Jinx! Jinx! Jinx! Jinx!” the audience chants in anticipation.

The stage is set, crowd awfully raucous for a charity concert, but that is the Jinx effect.

The camera is placed just below stage level, the perfect angle to capture both the singer and her lasting impression on the people packed in like sardines at the front, standing room only.

She enters in a tight blouse and plaid skirt, a parody of the long-exploited schoolgirl uniform.

The audience feels the beat as soon as it drops.

“He said he needs it or he’ll die / touching on my inner thigh / dirty seedy kinda guy / his castration would be nice / And I’m just cruising on my bike / summertime, my t-shirt tight—,” Jinx drags a hand down her own chest, popping a few buttons open on her blouse before turning around, winking over her shoulder at the audience. “—He say I’m the type he like / like I’m a biscuit he could bite—,”

/

She shifts in her chair, unable to get comfortable, eyes flitting around the space.

Jinx
Musician

“We gonna get this show on the road eventually?” she doesn’t know exactly who to address. “Is the idea just for me to spill my guts or are you guys s’posed to ask me questions?”

/

Jinx would be short without her platform boots, and she walks with a slightly bowlegged gait, bright blue hair pulled into a single braid that ends just above the center of her shoulder blades. The skin that’s exposed through her skimpy tank top is pale and heavily tattooed, marked with faded clouds of powder blue and fresher blue flames.

“Am I seriously supposed to pretend like you’re not here?”

“We’re trying to capture a typical day in your life.”

“OK, well, on a typical day I don’t have a camera shoved up my ass—you’re getting a flattering angle, right? Like, I’m not gonna watch this back later and think my ass looks flat, am I? Don’t answer that.”

/

Jinx
Musician

She sits forward, obviously grateful for some direction. “Who’s Jinx?”

/

“I can’t even wear my skin / without them asking where I’ve been / without them asking for a spin / this is not an invitation—,”

Jinx drops down into a squat, bouncing on her heels.

“This is not an invitation / f*ck you mean you need it? / f*ck you mean you RSVP’d? I don’t need a reason—,”

/

Jinx
Musician

“She’s me. Never really been a complicated answer to that question. Powder fell down a well, and that’s OK. It’s part of growing up, right? That separation. Happened to Vi too, she just…I don’t know, she’s less artistic about it,” Jinx laughs at her own joke.

/

She types on her phone as she walks, distracted. “I haven’t eaten shit today, fuckin’ starving.”

A sound technician pops out of a room to their right. “Jinx! We need you on stage for soundcheck in 10.”

“And I need a fucking smoothie, Brian! Where’s Vi?”

“Uh, Cait’s office, I think?”

“I bet you that bitch has snacks.”

“Jinx? Soundcheck? Got it?”

“Yeah, yeah,” she waves him off, continues down the hallway, but takes a sharp left at the next turn. “You’re probably about to see something extremely explicit, just a heads up,” Jinx warns the camera.

/

Jinx
Musician

“Do you have a sister?” she prompts the interviewer, eyebrow raised, hands pressed to the edge of the seat between her legs, leaning forward on locked elbows. “Well, then you wouldn’t know, would you?”

/

“I could be lickin’ on a lolly / dolled up like a dolly / short skirt, lil’ hottie / don’t you comment on my body / put a jiggle in my titties / I can giggle like I’m silly—,” Jinx bent over, taunting. “—call me prudish / call me bitchy / knock you out with all that’s in me—,”

/

Jinx
Musician

“You’ve heard of phantom limb syndrome, right? It’s like that. There’s a part of yourself out there…disconnected, but…part of you. And the memory of it, the impression, it’s…it doesn’t go away, even if she does. Powder fell down a well, and so did Violet. Maybe they found each other in the end, down there. In the dark and the wet. Powder never liked to be alone.”

/

The crowd’s excitement reaches a fever pitch as Vi saunters on stage in a sports bra and jeans, her shirt completely unbuttoned, chiseled musculature on full display, a tuft of red hair poking out of the hole in her backwards snapback.

“This is not an invitation,” she croons into the microphone. “She like to talk a lot, when I pull up, can’t say shit / I don’t want that girl because she can’t be patient / come with me right now, we ‘bout to switch locations—,” Vi bangs her head to the tonal change. “So f*ck with me, you need it / I ain’t f*cking with these boys I got my reasons—,” she flicks her tongue obscenely between her index and middle finger, adding a wink for good measure. “—Diamonds on me just like ice they change the seasons—,” she makes sure to show off the rock on her ring finger. “—I think you gotta do way more if you wanna please me / diamonds look like water on my girl, it look like fiji / diamonds freeze me, no for real, diamonds 3D / she can’t see me, VVS the TV, watch me in HD / I think you know it’s not debating, you can’t replace me…”

Jinx dances back to center stage, a well-practiced routine that still appears casual, off the cuff. The benefit of collaborating with family. “This is not an invitation / f*ck you mean you need it? / f*ck you mean you RSVP’d / I don’t need a reason / This is not an invitation / f*ck you mean you need it? / f*ck you mean you need it?”

/

Vi stares down at her shirt, brow furrowing as she unbuttons and then re-buttons the one at the center of her chest, 3^rd from the top, nearest to where we’d clipped her microphone.

Violet “Vi” Kiramman
Popstar

“Sorry,” she chuckles, eventually deciding to keep it buttoned. “Promised Cassandra I’d take this very seriously.”

“Are you comfortable?”

Vi pauses at that question, letting an almost shy smile slip. “I’m fine, yeah. Nobody ever asks me that, it’s funny.”

“Why is it funny?”

Shrugging, Vi says, “Being pampered has never been part of the gig for me, I guess. The only person I really get that question from is my wife.”

/

“Hey!” Jinx knocks but opens the door in the same moment. “Hope you’re decent!”

There’s a slender, dark-haired woman with nearly off-putting blue eyes sitting at the desk inside the office, obviously startled by the sudden intrusion, although her nerves quickly fade to annoyance. “Brian told me he was gathering you for soundcheck.”

Caitlyn Kiramman
Philanthropist, Attorney at Law

“Brian’s a liar and a thief and also has a dumb little ponytail. Where’s Vi? If she’s under your desk, I’ll scream.”

“Jinx, please,” Caitlyn scolds, sounding tired. “And once again, my eyes are up here.”

“That shirt is obscene.”

“It’s quite literally a crewneck sweatshirt I borrowed from Vi.”

“Yeah, sure, likely story,” Jinx scoffs.

/

Violet “Vi” Kiramman
Popstar

“Uh…four years,” she fiddles with the gold band on her finger, different than the one she wears on stage, more understated. “Didn’t think I’d like it so much, bugs the shit outta Jinx,” Vi laughs. “But yeah, call her ‘my wife’ every chance I get. It’s nice, I…I like having a wife, being in love.”

/

Vi holds Caitlyn’s hand at the breakfast table.

/

Vi, arms crossed, one leg on the wall behind her, leans in to whisper something in Caitlyn’s ear, the two of them avoiding the boom mic overhead, Vi’s words inaudible.

Caitlyn giggles.

/

Vi presses Caitlyn against the desk in her office, kissing her passionately.

“The—baby, the door,” Cait nods towards our vantage point, face flushed.

Vi kicks it closed with her foot.

/

Violet “Vi” Kiramman
Popstar

Vi stops, looking like she’d just realized her thoughts were getting away from her, and listens to the next question.

“Jinx and Cait? Uh…”

/

“Do you have any, like, goldfish, at least?”

Caitlyn rolls her eyes, opening the top drawer of her desk and shuffling around inside it. “I have a singular packet of crisps. If I give it to you, will you leave my office?”

“Crisp what?”

“What?”

“Crisp what?”

“W—potatoes, Jinx. What else?!”

/

Violet “Vi” Kiramman
Popstar

“It’s kinda like trying to learn another language. Jinx and I, we have this whole fucked up history, this whole life we lived together that I don’t think anyone will ever really understand. That’s just for us. And me and Cait…we’ve built this life together that works for us, and trying to like…translate that, or…to, uh, reconcile…it’s hard. It’s hard. But Jinx is my sister, she’s my family. And no matter their history, which, like, sometimes doesn’t have anything to do with me—Cait understands that.”

/

“—But I might go down to the river / ‘cause the way that the sky opens up when we touch / yeah it’s making me say…”

The audience has their hands in the air, swaying to the gospel.

“That the way you hold me, hold me, hold me, hold me, hold me / feels so holy, holy, holy, holy, holy / on god! / runnin’ to the altar like a track star / can’t wait another second—,”

/

Jinx
Musician

“Caitlyn? Caitlyn Kiramman?” Jinx seems confused by the question. “She’s my lawyer, why do you care about her?”

“Is she not also your sister-in-law?”

“Oh! You mean Princess? What a cunt.”

/

“No, you may not crash a blimp!” Caitlyn shouts into her phone’s receiver. “That’s—you’re describing an airship, anyway, my god, Jinx! I challenge you to avoid your worst instincts, just this once.”

There’s a garbled voice on the other end of the line.

“Who told you that? Who told you that all publicity is good publicity? And don’t try to tell me it was Mel.” She pauses, listening to the explanation. “Jayce?! No, nonsense. The airship will be CGI, end of discussion.”

/

Caitlyn Kiramman
Philanthropist, Attorney at Law

Her black hair is swept up into a ponytail, an effort made with her sapphire earrings.

“I’d like it on the record my typical demeanor is considerably more composed. I fear the footage that’s been recorded thus far paints me in a less than flattering—,”

A baby begins to cry off camera.

“Oh, fuck me. Bloody h—Violet!”

/

Jinx
Musician

“No, I meant, what a cunt, like, a really cute kid came outta that thing. It’s a compliment.”

/

Caitlyn Kiramman
Philanthropist, Attorney at Law

She’s standing, trying to adjust the microphone she’d jostled.

“Yeah?” Vi’s voice can be heard from off camera.

“Your son is awake!”

“How come it’s always my son when he’s crying?”

“How come you didn’t carry him for nine months?”

The silence stretches.

“…ok, I’ve got him.”

/

“—I don’t believe in nirvana / but the way that we love in the night gave me life / baby, I can’t explain…”

Vi presses a hand to her chest.

“That the way you hold me, hold me, hold me, hold me, hold me / feels so holy, holy, holy, holy, holy / on god! / runnin’ to the altar like a track star / can’t wait another second / ‘cause the way you hold me, hold me, hold me, hold me, hold me / feels so holy…”

/

Violet “Vi” Kiramman
Popstar

Ekko
Singer/rapper

“It’s an allegory,” Ekko explains, leaned back coolly in his chair, comfortable in Vi’s presence, comfortable before a camera. “Helps that it appeals to middle Piltover, but…me and Vi, we don’t have that kinda relationship with the big man. We are in awe of the things in our life that feel godly, though. For Vi, that’s her wife. She gave her a beautiful baby boy. For something to be of her like that…that’s the miracle of creation, that’s…I mean, I don’t wanna speak for you, sis, but that’s a holy experience.”

Vi nods in agreement but seems to lose some of her confidence before speaking, so she chuckles when she says, “Marriage is, like, the closest thing I’ve ever done to worship. I’ve never been to church, but…there’s like a cosmic connection people describe with whatever deity they find there. Cait is mine.”

Ekko laughs too, an inside joke passing between them. “Saint Cait, her holiness.”

Vi flicks him in the side of the head without hesitation. “I don’t know why I tell you anything.”

“Aye, that’s on you!” he ducks to avoid another assault.

“And what about you, Ekko?” The interviewer asks, getting them back on track. “What are you in awe of?”

“Man,” Ekko sighs, wistful. “My community. These hands, this voice, my drive, my struggles. Everything that got me here, and everything, everyone that keeps me. My girl, her brilliance, her honesty, the work she’s put into herself, into us, into her family. There’s religion in all’a that, and that’s what the song’s about. Comes off a little preachy, but…” he shrugs. “There’s an audience for everything.”

/

Vi stands in the white-walled nursery (already marked with crayon, an early showcase of his artwork) wearing cargo pants that are meant to look comfortable.  She’s holding her son in her arms, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“How come you always wake up angry, huh, little man?”

The boy sniffs, rubbing tired eyes with a doughy fist.

“Listen, I want you to be able to feel your feelings and all that, it’s all good, I just…if I had, like, scheduled time to take naps every day, I don’t think I’d be pissy about it, is all I’m trying to say.”

/

“The baby has been invaluable to our brand.”

Mel Medarda
Publicist

Jayce Talis
Manager

“I recognize that sounds shallow, but there’s power in visibility. Vi and Cait are lesbians, they’re in love, they’re talented and intelligent, and they’re raising a family together. People care about them. They care about what they do and say, the food they eat, the coffee they drink, the clothes they wear. They care about the ideals they stand for. That’s power. That’s influence. And it’s something that neither of them take lightly.”

“It also, just—on a personal level,” Jayce sits forward to add. “To watch them arrive here, after everything. It’s—I couldn’t be prouder.”

/

Violet “Vi” Kiramman
Popstar

Her son is sleeping on her chest, an impromptu 2^nd nap that Vi made the producers promise they wouldn’t tell Caitlyn about.

“I’ve been a parent, since I was 10 years old, and I didn’t—back then, Pow was it for me, and I was all she had. Being someone’s one and only like that, it’s…it shouldn’t be like that, that young. We got a raw deal, and I did what I had to, but…I messed up. So I never…it’s not that I never thought about having a family, I just…I’d had one, you know? And I lost that, so I was—I was scared. But love does crazy things to you—it sounds cheesy, but it’s true. Not just my love for Cait either, my sister—I got that missing piece back and I—it’s imperfect, I know. We went through too much shit to not be a little bit broken still, but we’re a family. I have my family but, I—we’re adding to it, not making a new one, and I don’t have to choose. It doesn’t have to be just me and Cait now, or me and Jinx. And I…” her voice was growing thick with emotion. “Sorry, sometimes I do this when I think about second chances. Cassandra gave me one, and then my wife, and then my sister. And none of it was easy, it’s still not easy. But—but look at him.” She presses a teary kiss to the crown of her son’s head. “He’s real.”

/

Caitlyn Kiramman
Philanthropist, Attorney at Law

“Oh, motherhood has been wonderful, yes,” Caitlyn’s smile is broad, honest but exhausted. “I mean, I suppose there was a time when I slept more. Considerably more, one might say. And I can’t seem to stop leaking through my shirts, which—,” she catches herself. “Is a confession that need not be included in this documentary, thank you. It’s fine, every article of clothing I own is stained and I fell asleep standing up this morning, but it’s been pure bliss besides all that.”

/

“Jinx!” Caitlyn stops the younger woman with a harsh whisper as she lingers outside the closed door to the nursery. “If you wake my child, I will poison you.”

“Poison me?”

“Yes.”

“That’s…so specific.”

“I’ve thought about it a great deal.”

“I’m telling Vi.”

“She already knows.”

“…just lemme see him for like one second.”

“When he wakes up, you may see him.”

“Well, how long’s that gonna take?!”

/

Jinx
Musician

Jinx curls in on herself, looking anywhere but at the camera. “Yeah, so he’s the love of my life, what do you want from me? Have you seen his cheeks? They should be illegal.”

She pauses to listen to the question, her eyebrows furrowing for a moment as she prepares her answer.

“It’s not…,” Jinx purses her lips, looking to rephrase whatever thought she was planning to voice. “I don’t know if people are really meant to be happy. It’s too easy not to be. There’s too much darkness out there. And my sister was unhappy for a long time. I made her that way, the world made her that way—,”

/

“—I guess there’s certain dreams that you gotta keep / ‘cause they’ll only know what you let ‘em see…”

Ekko sits on a stool at center stage, eyes closed, microphone held tight in both hands.

“All the things that I know / that your parents don’t / they don’t care like I do / nowhere like I do / and all the things that I know / that your parents don’t / they don’t care like I do / nowhere like I do /nowhere like I do—,”

/

Jinx
Musician

“—I have somebody that really loves me. That sees me, that always has. And that—Vi didn’t have that, for a long time. But she does now, I think. We’ve never been happy at the same time, but she’s my sister again, and she’s not going anywhere. She promised.”

/

Caitlyn Kiramman
Philanthropist, Attorney at Law

“It’s a bit terrifying, to be honest.”

Violet “Vi” Kiramman
Popstar

“I’ll tell her about Molly, Cupcake” Vi assured, reaching across the divide between their chairs to take her wife’s hand.

“Please, stop calling her that.”

/

Cassandra Kiramman
CEO, Kiramman Records

Dr. Tobias Kiramman, M.D.
Philanthropist

The elder Kiramman couple sits in the confessional chairs with ruler straight spines, handsome, Tobias’ hair graying at the temples, Cassandra’s once brunette hair gray completely now.

“My favorite topic!” Tobias responds excitedly to the prompt, wrestling his keys out of his pocket. “I have his little face on my keychain, isn’t he darling?” he holds it up to the camera to illustrate, his grandson’s face immortalized, always with him.

“We adore being grandparents,” Cassandra assured. “He’s such a sweet little boy and Caitlyn and Violet have taken so well to motherhood. I…certainly wouldn’t have named a child of mine…what they named him, but—,”

/

Caitlyn Kiramman
Philanthropist, Attorney at Law

Violet “Vi” Kiramman
Popstar

“His name?” Caitlyn repeats the question, eyes flitting away from the camera, avoidant. “It’s Vi. His name is Vi.”

Vi is practically vibrating in the seat beside her. “It’s short for Viper.”

“We just call him Vi,” Caitlyn reiterates. “Or Junior.”

“And this…” Vi smiles, resting a hand on Cait’s stomach “Is Molotov. But we’ll call her ‘Molly’ for short.”

“I’m not naming our daughter Molotov, Violet.”

“You want Jinx on board, right?”

“At what cost, Vi?”

“What, so you’re just gonna let Viper have a weird name and give his sister a boring normal one?”

“So you admit it’s weird!”

“It’s rad.”

/

Vi is dressed for the benefit concert, and she enters Caitlyn’s office with Viper walking on wobbly feet beside her, fist gripped tight around Vi’s finger for support.

Caitlyn smiles at the sight, Jinx rolls her eyes.

“Were you letting little dude set the pace?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be on stage for soundcheck?”

“Yes, she is,” Caitlyn confirms. “She’s been raiding my crisps drawer instead.”

“OK, well, Vi’s awake and he wants some of mommy’s milk.”

Jinx and Caitlyn both recoil simultaneously.

“Why would you—,”

“The fuck’s the matter with you, Violet?” Jinx demands.

“—say it like that?”

“What? The baby’s hungry!”

“Phrase is differently next time!”

“Yeah, you know I get jealous!”

/

Jinx
Musician

Caitlyn Kiramman
Philanthropist, Attorney at Law

Both women sit in the confessional chairs like they’d rather be anywhere else, Jinx with one leg up on the seat of her chair, Caitlyn with her knees pressed politely together, hands folded in her lap.

Jinx clears her throat. “Uh, my attorney has asked that I make an apology about the inappropriate joke I made earlier.” She separates her arms and opens her palm, reading off of it. “I respect my sister-in-law a great deal and do not have a breastfeeding kink. Any implication to the—uh,” she squints at her hand, trying to discern the smudged letters. “Contrary?” Caitlyn gives her a nod of approval “—was made in jest and we prefer you not air that footage. Thank you. Happy now?”

/

“I wanna thank every single one of you for coming out tonight!” Vi shouts over the crowd noise as she re-joined Jinx on stage. “You’ve been incredible and we’re so grateful. Me and Jinx, we landed on our feet…kinda,” she laughs, the audience joins her. “But not everybody does. Most don’t. Ekko and me opened the center for those kids, the forgotten ones, the ones society left behind. And all of this,” Vi spreads her arms wide. “It’s for them.”

/

Caitlyn Kiramman
Philanthropist, Attorney at Law

“The Center? It’s our pride and joy, our life’s work. I couldn’t be prouder of what we’ve achieved thus far, but there’s always more work to be done.”

Caitlyn squares her shoulders, chin high and proud.

“It’s not enough to simply advocate. Well-constructed arguments, appeals to reason and good faith can only go so far in the fight against inequality. You need boots on the ground to effect real change. You need money. And you need the will to persevere even when the odds seem insurmountable, the injustice too great. I was blessed to be born into privilege, my wife came to it through struggle—hard work, incredible trauma and a blessed stroke of luck. No child should be left on the street to fend for themselves after tragedy or misfortune because we don’t have the framework in place to support them. No Zaunite should ever have aid withheld out of prejudice. And no human being should be victimized due to desperation.”

Cait’s hand moves idly, distractedly to her stomach.

“My children will be afforded opportunities others will not be. I can’t…I can’t fix everything. I know of the inherent imbalance my wealth; my privilege and my wife’s fame offer them. But I will do everything in my power, for as long as I have influence, to level that playing field. My wife and her sister and Ekko will always offer a stepping stool to their pedestal. That is our mission, that is the opportunity this Center offers us, and that is the cause we’re blessed to champion.”

/

Vi glances over at Ekko, giving him a nod, a little smile, waiting as he strums on his guitar, finding the right chord.

“You guys ready for one more?” she prompts the audience, who roars back with enthusiasm. “Good, good.” Vi’s smile is warm, easy, one hand on her mic stand, the other running through her hair. She closes her eyes, listening to Ekko play. Jinx disappears from beside her.

“Everybody gets high sometimes, you know—,” Vi begins, her vocals smooth, talent obvious with just a single line. “—What else can you do when you’re feeling low? / So take a deep breath and let it go / you shouldn’t be drowning on your own…”

The drums come in behind them to accompany her, Vi’s brow furrowing, feeling the music swell around her.

“And if you feel you’re sinking, I will jump right over / into cold, cold water for you / and although time may take us in two different places / I will still be patient with you / and I hope you know…”

She pulls the microphone from its stand for the chorus, stepping forward.

“I won’t let go / I’ll be your lifeline tonight / I won’t let go / I’ll be your lifeline tonight…”

Jinx steps back onstage to whistles and cheers, Viper in her arms wearing almost comically oversized ear protection.

“’Cause we all get lost sometimes, you know? It’s how we learn and how we grow—,” Vi’s eyes find her sister…and then her son. She melts, a dopey grin affecting her voice. “—and I wanna lay with you til I’m old / you shouldn’t be fighting on your own…”

“You see mama?” Jinx’s lips read as she points at Vi for Viper’s benefit. “You see her?”

“—I will still be patient with you / and I hope you know / I won’t let go / I’ll be your lifeline tonight…”

Vi crosses the stage as she finishes her second chorus, taking her son from Jinx’s arms so that Jinx could take the microphone the stagehand is offering her.

“Come on, come on / save me from the rocking boat / I just wanna stay afloat / I’m all alone—” Jinx sings, lending her voice to the ensemble, the melody a collaborative effort. “—And I hope, I hope someone come and take me home / somewhere I can rest my soul / I need to know you won’t let go…”

“I won’t let go,” Vi assured, pressing her forehead against her sister’s, cradling her son in her arms. “I’ll be your lifeline tonight / I won’t let go…”

/

Jinx
Musician

Violet “Vi” Kiramman
Popstar

“This is our world,” Jinx says, sparing a smirk, a glance at her sister. “Sorry you didn’t get the memo, but…you’re just living in it.”

Yaddy Vi and Viper art by @artofden