UNO | oh, fuck

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spanish to english translations are located at the end of the chapter!

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❝BESA MI CULO, PUTA❞ [translation 1].

Cleopatra Selene angrily ended the phone call before swinging her car door open; her head hitting the roof and her knee bounced painfully against the steering wheel. A small whine coming from her throat as she stepped into the sun. She turned to look at her surroundings whilst rubbing the top of her head. There were no signs of civilization in either direction—just open and arid landscape—except for the little liquor store stuck in the middle of no-place-and-no-where Texas. Across the street she spotted a parked trailer loaded down with several bails of hay; peering around to see that a black late-motel Mercury Cougar was on the other side of it.

    Something awful is going to happen today, she thought.

    It was all so completely ridiculous. She tried to tell herself that this was ridiculous, but somehow she knew.

    The air was hot and dry, but Cleopatra recalled back to the days she would visit her family in Mexico— she quickly realized that the heat in Texas hadn't bothered her as much as Mexico's climate did. Carelessly tossing her phone down onto the seat, where it bounced off harmlessly and landed on the floor, she slammed the door shut with her hip. She straightened up slowly, then glanced around again. She took a deep breath and used her hand to block out the sun as she looked up at the sign above the door: "Benny's World of Liquor" she rolled her eyes and stepped toward the store.

    As soon as Cleopatra walked in she had managed to trip over the threshold and fall toward the ground. But, using her reflexes, she grabbed onto one of the shelves beside the door and steadied herself before she collided face first with the tile. Suddenly, she was flustered; pushing her thick hair out of her face.

    She felt as though a slight wind had picked up around her. She rubbed at her bare arms, and took another breath, relief sweeping through her like sunlight. How could she have been so silly? This was a beautiful day, full of promise, and nothing bad was going to happen. She kept her arms crossed as she made her way toward the back of the store—completely ignoring the man behind the counter, but took notice of the tall blonde girl standing in front of him. Cleo assumed that they knew each other, in a small town like this one, everyone more than likely knew everyone else and their grandmas.

    Cleopatra wasn't from a town like this one; she had been born in Mexico, but grew up in the city. It was almost impossible to know everyone.  When she had been in high school, she had always been the one that tried to make herself known to everyone in the school. That was until she met—she shook her head, getting to know people is what got you here in the first place, she thought and proceeded to walk toward the refrigerators in the back.

    As she turned down the aisle, she noticed a man wearing a suit was standing there. He was looking at a girl with thick brunette hair wearing a pink button-down shirt. She had opened a door of one of the refrigerators between her and the man. The girl's eyes momentarily drifted and landed on Cleo; her entire stance had relaxed as though she had been relieved that Cleopatra had appeared.

    Cleopatra quickly realized that the refrigerator containing the beverage she wanted was on the other side of the young girl, but she needed to get past Suit-Guy who was currently blocking the aisle. She cautiously reached out and gently tapped his shoulder with her forefinger. "Con permiso" [translation 2].

    Surprised by the familiarity of her voice, the man turned around.

    His eyes immediately landed on the tall raven-haired woman. And, for a split second, the entirety of the woman before him seemed to change. Instead of wearing a tattered band-tee and shorts, she was draped in white robes adorned with heavy and beautifully colored jewels. Her hair had gold ornaments attached to the ends in a style that made her appear timeless and sexy. Her dark eyes were lined with kohl to extend the line of the eye and lids powdered with crushed green malachite. Around her neck was a large, flat, circular neck piece and an Egyptian head-piece made of solid gold rest upon her head.

    For a moment, he thought she was a Goddess, or a Queen.

    Her plump red lips were pressed into a line. She appeared as one who wasn't willing to show any kind of flaw in her rule over her people—a united front, impenetrable with her at the reigns.

    He blinked and the Queen was gone, but the woman remained. He had seen her before; along with her, in his visions. The unknown woman was begging to be set free and for him to come to her while the Queen was crying to be saved. But the woman in front of him didn't appear as if she needed any saving—actually, she looked like she wanted to run far away—far away from her troubled past.

    Uncomfortably, Cleopatra exchanged looks with the other girl. She raised her eyebrows in a questioning manner and only when the glassy-haze disappeared from his eyes did he manage to snap back into reality. "I'm sorry—excuse me," he took a quick step to the side, but refused to take his eyes off her.

    Cleopatra watched him out of the corner of her eyes as she tugged the refrigerator door open while the other girl shut hers. She whirled around with a huff, casting Cleopatra a fleeting glance before making her way to the counter in a desperate attempt to escape the strange man. Cleopatra could hear herself muttering under her breath in Spanish as she tried to ignore Suit-Guy's lingering eyes.

    As soon as her fingers touched the cold water bottle, another feeling spread through her. Unlike before, it hadn't been relief and surely hadn't felt like sunlight. It was an eerily chill. Cleopatra let the door fall shut. She stared at her reflection in the fogged glass and then shook her head. All the bad feelings she had ever felt rushed over her. Anxiety, fear—and the certainty that something terrible was about to happen.

    "Selene means moon, doesn't it?"

    Cleopatra nearly jumped out of her skin, letting out a tiny shriek as the bottle of water slipped through her fingers and went crashing to the ground. "¡Carajo!" [translation 3] she swore as the bottle busted and sprayed the chilling water all over her bare legs.

    But when his words finally registered in her mind, she immediately stiffened. Her hands instantly balled into fists—trying to push away the fear that was beginning to surge through her veins. She tried not to show that his words had affected her, so, she tried to side-step him, but his tall and broad build blocked her only exit.

    "¿Habla usted Inglés?" [translation 4].

    Cleopatra stared up at him—her words caught in the back of her throat. She blinked several times; her lips opened and closed as if she were trying to speak but she wasn't sure what to say. The real answer was, of course, yes, but did he really need to know that she spoke English? But, the more important question was: how the hell did he know her last name? Why did he know what her last name meant? "yo no hablo Inglés" [translation 5].

    For him, it was as if he could feel her mind. It glowed at the edge of his consciousness, a golden light, soft and yet vibrant—it was alluring and very powerful. He studied her mind a little longer; tilting his head and squinting his eyes. "Yeah, I think you do." He confirmed. "So, Selene means moon, right?"

    "O...kay?" Cleopatra drew out as if she had been confused by his question.

    Suit-Guy leaned in closer, "If Selene means moon, what word means sun?"

    Why was he reopening old wounds? How did he know those wounds even existed? But, even as she thought it, she subconsciously grabbed the gold pendant fastened around her neck. Her thumb and forefinger caressed the sun charm that hung from it. The little charm was exquisitely worked in gold, and five centuries had not dimmed its luster. She could not forget the past—her family's past—and sometimes she didn't really wish to. Despite everything that had happened, Cleopatra cherished the memory of her.

    "Kisa," Cleopatra whispered under her breath and once she realized what she had said, she gasped and released the pendant before pushing past the man. She rushed toward the counter where the two girls were still standing. She was in a desperate need of a cigarette or a double shot of whiskey—or both. The man had sparked up something eery and dark inside her, but she didn't dare look back at him; already knowing that he was still staring at her.

    "Hey," the blonde girl leaned closer to the man behind the counter. "What do you do with all those skin-mags, Pete? You don't jerk off when nobody's around here, do ya?"

    Pete's cheeks flushed as he reached over and grabbed a brown paper bag. He shook it open and placed the brunette's bottle of beer inside of it. "Thanks, Pete," she whispered, snatching the bottle out of his outstretched hand.

    The blonde one smirked. "Keep your hands out of your pockets, Pete."

    Cleopatra brushed shoulders with the brunette as her and her friend turned to leave. Cleo rolled her shoulders and stepped toward the counter, slapping her hands atop of it in exasperation. She took in a deep breath and aimlessly kicked the front of the counter with the tip of her foot and let out a low chuckle. She opened her mouth to tell Pete what it was she wanted but froze when she noticed the blanched look on his face.

    She followed his eyes, turning to see that the two girls were being blocked in. Suit-Guy was leant up against the shelf beside the entrance—keeping anyone inside from leaving—in his right hand was a cocked gun. His entire body screamed "calm and collected" but his actions cried "I'm crazy!"

    "You," Suit-Guy pointed to the blonde with his gun, causing the girl to flinch. "Move over there—and I want all of you to shut your mouths. Do not move and do not speak."

    The tall blonde breathlessly shrieked in fear as she stumbled away from the man. Cleopatra jumped back when Suit-Guy grabbed the brunette by her hair and slammed her head against the counter; pressing the barrel of the gun against the back of her head for a moment before pointing the gun at the trembling blonde. Cleopatra's mouth open and closed; she wished she had the courage to say something—distract him or...something, but she was rendered useless. But, she refused to take her eyes off him; refused to show him that she was scared.

    And Suit-Guy, despite holding a gun to another girl's head, his eyes were on Cleopatra. Watching in amazement as every shifting muscle in her body she would change; flashing between the regular woman and the Goddess that was in his visions.

    Cleopatra, like a bolt of lightning, whirled around at the sound of the door to the bathroom opening and closing. His face was hidden behind the racks of junk food—she found herself craning her neck trying to get a better look at this new man. From where she stood, Cleopatra could see he had a lean, muscular body. When he finally did appear, she was completely shocked. He dressed similar to the other man, wearing a nicely fitted suit but his hair was darker and much shorter. He was distractingly handsome—only if the situation had been different.

    He wasn't as tall as the other man, though. Just average height.

    Cleopatra let out her breath.

    Suit-Guy Number 2's steps faltered; closing his eyes for a moment while shaking his head. It was obvious that he was fighting the urge to groan at the scene before him.

    "Start the car." Suit-Guy Number 1 grumbled.

    "Why, Richie?" Suit-Guy Number 2 said.

    "These bitches spotted me," Richie announced, which caused Suit-Guy Number 2's eyes to wander over the hostages until they landed on Cleopatra. Richie pulled on the brunette's hair, craning her head back so she could look up at him. "They said they knew who I was and that they'd kill me."

    "¡Qué mierda!" [translation 6] Cleopatra exclaimed in shock, causing Richie's and Suit-Guy Number 2's eyes to wander to her once more. She bit her lip, shrinking under their gazes.

    "We didn't say anything," the brunette said, sniffling as tears threatened to pour out of her eyes at any moment.

    Suit-Guy Number 2 clenched his jaw, taking cautious steps forward—examining the scene with narrowed eyes. He didn't want to take any chances with his brother. This masquerade was going to be hard enough to pull off as it was. For a moment he wondered, again, if he should just give it all up. Perhaps they should lie low for a while. What made him think that they could rejoin the world?

    "We don't care who you are or what you've done," the blonde pleaded.

    "I said shut your mouth," Richie threatened then turned his attention toward the other man. "She knows, Seth. She was gonna rat on us as soon as we drove off." He looked at Cleopatra, causing her to take a subtle step back. "And her...sh-she's freakin' the Pharaoh Cleopatra reincarnated."

    Cleopatra's eyes widened, but Seth spoke before she could. "What the hell are you talking about, man? How could you possibly know that? Hold on—" he cut himself off in order to turn to her, his dark eyes surveying her face "—is that even possible?"

    "Of course it's possible!" Richie defended sharply. "I just told you."

    "I'm talking to the pretty-little-lady in the Metallica T-shirt. Are you wearing a Metallica T-shirt?"

    Richie frowned, looking down at his outfit, "No."

    "Then shut up!" Seth snapped at Richie before turning his attention back toward Cleopatra again, his dark eyes meeting hers. "Do any of you know who were are? Is my brother telling the truth about you?"

    "No, I swear," Cleopatra was firm. She couldn't manage real calmness, so she stopped trying and decided to be angry instead.

    He sighed, "I'm Seth, and this is my brother Richie," he gestured toward the man with the glasses. "I just got outta prison and Richie here busted me out, and apparently he can't wait to screw up more shit than he already has." The brunette, who's hair was tangled Richie's balled fist, let out a sob—catching Seth's attention. "Which might include you, unless you keep your mouth zipped up tight. Do you understand?"

    "Someone's coming," Richie announced. Cleopatra's head turned at the sound of a car pulling up and parking just outside the liquor store. "Texas Ranger."

    Richie grinned as Seth revealed his Revolver and pulled back the hammer before reaching out and grabbing Cleopatra's bicep. His strong grip had her lightly pulling against it—which only caused him to tighten his grip. Seth then turned to Pete, who still stood behind the counter, and pointed his gun at him.

    "This is your moment in the spotlight, friend." Seth said as Pete raised up his hands. "Oscar time. Do you know what we're going to do to these lovely ladies if you do not perform?"

    "Just leave them be, all right?" Pete's hands and voice were violently trembling; his eyes were frantically glancing between the barrel of the gun and Cleopatra—who had visibly paled while watching the scene unfold.

    "You twitch funny—" momentarily releasing Cleopatra, Seth reached back and grabbed the tall blonde by her face, pulling her forward "—and beauty queen here gets her face blown clean off. Now, whoever this cowpoke is, get him out of here."

    Pete nervously nodded and swallowed hard. Seth, holding up his gun, shoved the blonde forward while reaching back with his other hand to grab Cleopatra. She frowned at this and instantly pulled back; yanking her arm out of his hold. She was wild with adrenaline by now. Why had she done that? And what was she going to do now that she had? She bravely casted a glance toward the door, but before she could even take a step, Seth quickly snapped back around and snaked his arm around her waist.

    Seth placed his mouth right beside her ear. "Don't even think about it, Your Highness."

    Cleopatra's lips pulled back in disgust—not appreciating the "title" at all. Disappointment coursed through her as he led them to the back of the store, where the refrigerators were located, pushing them down to the ground. Right beside Cleopatra and the blonde was Richie and the brunette; the sound of footsteps approaching the entrance of the store becoming clearer and louder.

    Richie's eyes glanced around, quickly spotting a thick roll of duct tape on the shelf in front of him. He looked at his older brother suggestively but Seth just huffed in annoyance and rolled his eyes. Said actions didn't go unnoticed by Richie, but he was too preoccupied with smoothing a piece of tap over the brunette's mouth to care.

    Seth easily caught the roll of tape, quickly and quietly tearing off two pieces. The blonde gave no fight, allowing the man to place the strip of duct tape over her lips while tears ran down her cheeks. He then grabbed the other piece and turned toward Cleopatra expectantly, who gave him a look. Did he actually think she would be complying without a fight?

    "Oh , cogida sin," [translation 7].

    Seth had no idea what she had said, which was obvious to her, but he lunged forward anyway. He's quickness had been enough to catch Cleopatra off guard long enough to press the sticky-side of the tape over her lips. Cleopatra slumped forward in defeat and blew out a breath through her nose; nostrils flaring in anger. Seth glanced back down at her, a slight smirk pulling at the corner of his lips as she stared at the floor, but it quickly disappeared when he heard Pete's voice.

    "You again," Pete greeted the Ranger—who Cleopatra concluded must've been a regular, or came by enough for him to seem familiar to Pete.

    The clanking sound of boots hitting the wood floor ceased, the older Ranger pausing in front of the counter to look at Pete, "Yep, me again."

    "Regular as leaded gasoline," Pete teased.

    "Well, yours is the only place a man can relieve himself for miles. I just came over from Nadine's..."

    The conversation carried on, but Cleopatra didn't bother to listen. She glanced away from the Ranger's light-brown leather jacket and looked over at Seth; his gun was still pointed at her and the blonde but his eyes were focused on the two men at the front of the store. Cleopatra quickly looked down at Seth's hand pushing down on her shoulder before returning her attention to his face. And, almost as if he had felt her gaze, he turned and their eyes met. An indescribable expression crossed his chiseled features which, in response, Cleopatra raised an eyebrow at him in question.

    As they continued to stare at one another, she felt as if she were reaching for...something. And only, when she thought she'd got it, it wasn't there.

    Their eye contact finally broke when the conversation at the front ended—the Ranger making his way to the back of the store to the restroom. Seth shook his head and stood up; angrily stomping back toward the counter once more.

    "What the hell do you think you're doing?" Seth spat, pulling back the hammer of his Revolver—putting the business end directly at Pete. "Are you looking to redecorate this place in shades of red?"

    Pete nervously and defenselessly held up his hands again; frantically glancing between the restroom door and Seth. "I'm doing what you want."

    "He's squatting on the throne when he should be moseying down the road to the next filling station where the inbred-clerk doesn't have a gun pointed at his left-nut." Seth practically growled; his voice was firm and authoritative.

    "He'd see right through that, ok?" Pete defended his actions. "Son of a bitch put my brother in the pen. I've got to play nice or he'll know I'm steering him sour."

    "Get him gone or everybody in this place will be saying their last words to the goddamn beer posters on the ceiling." Seth commanded, his voice the same as before.

    It had Cleopatra momentarily forgetting what she had seen on his face earlier—well, before she had the tape over her mouth, before she was officially a hostage. When he had come out of the restroom he was tense and worried about his brother. It was obvious that what was happening right now, wasn't apart of their plan. His plan. And all of their problems seemed to be stemming from Richie.

    At the thought of Richie, Cleopatra looked up to see that he was slowly rising from his crouched position and making his way toward his brother. She watched as Richie stood beside Seth, but got distracted by Seth's words. Looking up at the ceiling she saw the posters of half-naked women plastered randomly all over the ceiling. She tilted her head; trying to figure which one—if it came down to it—she would be saying her last words to.

    "What'd you say about the vault?" Seth's voice suddenly sounded. Cleopatra looked back toward the front of the store, watching as Seth took a step closer to Pete.

    "W-What?" Pete stuttered nervously, his eyes glancing between the brothers.

    "You said: 'I'll have your receipt all ready for you when you step out of the vault,' are you trying to tip him off?"

    "He's taking a shit!" Pete whispered in a harsh voice. "It's a figure of speech!"

    "Oh, it's a figure of speech," Seth mocked, tilting his head to the side. "Well, here's one for you: you say one more thing that sounds like a code, and you're a noun with no goddamned verb—period."

    The sound of the toilet flushing caused the three men in the front to all exchange glances before Seth inhaled deeply. "All right, now everybody be cool," he steadied his dangerous gaze upon Pete, aiming his cocked gun at the man. "You...be cool."

    Seth and Richie were quick in turning around to make their way back to their hostages before the Ranger made it out of the restroom. And before she knew it, Seth was beside her; crouching down with her and the blonde. But, Richie was taking slow and precise steps toward his own hostage. It appeared almost as if he were in a trance-like state—keeping his eyes locked on the three girls.

    To Richie, the girls were whispering to him from behind the tape over their mouths. The whispers were impossible to decipher—their words merging with one another; flooding in his ears with no mercy. His forehead creased in confusion to the sounds around him. They infiltrated his mind. There was something definitely wrong with him and he knew that. He was hearing things that weren't actually being said and seeing things that weren't actually there.

    Seth watched his brother in confusion; narrowing his eyes. Of all things, he did not want his brother to implode. He didn't want to look at the man he had known his whole life and not recognize him or his actions. Richie was broken. Even though they had spent over five years apart, Seth could feel that something was wrong with his brother. But, he believed all their problems would be solved once they reached Mexico. He kept telling himself this as he kneeled, the fluttering sound of Cleopatra's breathing pouring over him.

    The older Ranger finally came out of the restroom and walked up to the counter. Cleopatra wished that someone would make a sound—sniffle or whimper so that the Ranger could save them, but she couldn't bring herself to do it because people would get hurt. People would die. And she knew that things happened oh-so-fast when their freedom depended on it; if any of them twitched in the wrong direction, they wouldn't be walking out of there alive.

    The Ranger's boots slapped against the wood flooring, his spurs jangling. "I'll be on my way."

    "You didn't make a mess in there, did you? 'Cause I ain't got no time to clean up a crime scene," Pete stated.

    Immediately, Cleopatra noticed that Richie's entire body stiffened as he slowly rose up from behind the shelves that hid him and made his way up behind the Ranger—the barrel of his gun pointed at the back of his head. Her back instantly straightened and she began to prepare herself for the worst.

    "I left you a few clues," the Ranger replied, not realizing that a man was approaching him from behind. "Uh...are you sure you didn't see anybody today? 'Cause I just found a—"

    A gunshot rang out in the air—a bullet ran through the old Ranger's back and burst out through his chest. Richie didn't even blink before he pulled the trigger that released the bullet that caused the man to tumble to the ground. Cleopatra peered around a column to spot Pete; his entire upper body had been sprayed and splattered with blood and bodily tissue. Cleopatra felt bile rise up in the back of her throat and a shiver racked through her body as she swallowed.

    Cleopatra looked up to Seth, hoping and praying that he wouldn't flip-a-switch and shoot them as well. But, in turn, Seth looked more disturbed by his brother's actions than any one else. And as he rose to his feet, she immediately did the same.

    "No," he said softly as he placed his hands on her shoulders, gently pushing her back down. "I want you to stay back here." He glanced over his shoulder at her before shaking his head and made his way to the front. "Whoa!" Seth cried out, grabbing his brother's shoulder. "Hey, hey!"

    "Texas Ranger!" an unfamiliar voice called from right outside the store which caused Seth to open-fire—shooting at the Ranger through the entrance before he dove to hide behind a shelf.

    Cleopatra and the other girls frantically huddled together in panic—it was a desperate attempt to gain a sense of security by being pressed together while watching Seth and the Ranger continue to exchange shots. After a few moments, Seth managed to successfully shoot out one of the Ranger's car's tires before pushing a shelf holding magazines in front of the open entrance.

    Seth pressed his back against the wall; his chest rising and falling rapidly. "What the hell did you do?"

    Richie's lips pulled back, leveling his gun at Pete. "He said: crime scene."

    "It's a figure of speech—!" Pete yelled in panic, but was cut off when another gunshot rang out. The bullet plunged deep into Pete's chest, literally blowing him off his feet.

    "Stop!" Seth shouted. "What are you doing?"

    More gunshots rang out through the liquor store and Cleopatra felt like she was trapped in one of those terrify nightmares, but the sound of gunfire didn't cease or slow. With relentless, uncaring force, the shots rang profusely through the air—but this was no dream. She heard the two girls behind her sobbing through the duct tape over their mouths; eyes flooded with salty-tears. The gunshots were loud and Cleopatra wanted to cover her ears, but all she could do was watch.

    "Texas Rangers!" The younger man called out, using his elbows to bust out the window. "Surrender and nobody gets hurt!"

    "Afraid somebody's already hurt, Sheriff!" Seth shouted, crouching down while he reloaded his Revolver. "Your partner's on the floor! That's you in about five seconds, if you don't put your weapon down."

    "I don't think so."

    "Let me ask you a question," Seth said, motioning for Richie to go over and look out the window. "You got a wife and kids? People that love you, that are going to hate seeing you all stitched together like a sock puppet in the local morgue? Then why don't you put that weapon down and come out from behind there, hero. 'Cause us, we ain't got nothing to lose. You...you got everything to lose."

    Despite the sound of Seth and the Ranger arguing; the air was heavy and silent and still, she stood there listening to her pulse. It was the only way to get through this. That's how it went, like a feather on a drum, bristling and quick, barely there. It was a microscopic sound, elusive, somewhere between her earlobe and her neck—a matter of nanometers—and she almost had to strain herself to find it, closing her eyes and holding her breath...feeling for it without actually feeling for it, because the slightest movement disturbed the rhythm, makes the blood slosh around and the heart stutter, turns the whole thing into a giant production, which was precisely what you didn't want in a situation like this, standing idle in the middle of a shoot-out, tethered to the leaded silence of moment, sinking into herself.

    She was an anchor for an anchor.

    She felt like she was going to vomit. She doesn't move, she doesn't breathe. There was something almost comforting about hearing her heart beating in this violent situation—and it grows louder, firmer, until the sound fills her head, momentarily blocking out her fear. And then, as if on cue, a cold breeze gusted through her. Just like when Richie had first spoken to her. It's gruesome. It's gorgeous. Her head is swirling when another breeze passed, surreptitiously as if it were a promise. Indecipherable whispers infiltrated her mind—she wasn't prepared for what was going to happen next.

    And, then, she could feel someone's eyes on her.

    Cleopatra's eyes flew open, a scream bubbling up in her throat as she was met with the face of Richie—who stood right in front of her and the two other girls. His wide and murder-crazed eyes flittered back and forth between the brunette and the tall blonde.

    "I know you're trying to mess with my head. It's not gonna work. There's nothing wrong with me—and I won't for a second let you make me think there is. Are we clear?" The girls lowered their heads, avoiding making eye contact with him. "You play with me again and I'm going to play with you, and you won't understand the meaning of the term until you've been played with by me."

    Richie turned away from the girls, fully intending on leaving them to squander in their fear, but stopped suddenly when—out of the corner of his eyes—he saw Cleopatra's form change once again. She was in the same attire as before; she was a Queen. The gold bracelets around her wrist shimmered in the sunlight as she raised her arm, holding her hand out for him to take. Richie glanced down at it before looking at her beautifully angled face. There were no remnants of fear or anxiety present—all he saw on her features was power and authority.

    "Save me, Richard," she whispered, reaching out to him.

    But, as soon as he took a step toward her, the Queen disappeared. The beautiful vision was replaced by the fearful woman from before him, who was leaning back against one of the refrigerator doors. The fear and anxiety returning to her face. He opened his mouth to speak, but he just couldn't seem to form the words. He shook his head before walking away from the girls completely.

    Cleopatra released the breath she had been holding through her nose. She churned with anxiety as she slowly lowered herself to the ground; clutching her knees to her chest. She rested her forehead on her knees—not being able to ignore the splitting sensation in her skull. It felt as if a dozen axes had found their way into her head; millions of needles pricking into her skin. And then it hit. The tightness in her chest—closing airways—the pressure in her lungs. She couldn't breathe.

    Cleopatra found herself clawing at her neck to try and catch her breath. Her eyelids were becoming droopy and breaths were becoming more and more shallow the longer her lungs refused to fill with oxygen. She glanced up to see that the two girls were kneeling in front of her, staring at her in concern. They could hear her ragged breaths.

    Their hands immediately shot out, harshly shaking her in an attempt to get her to breathe. They were telling her to take in a deep breath, but she could barely make out what they were saying, hardly hearing anything over the sound of her slowing pulse.

    And then, suddenly, a sharp stinging sensation flared across her left cheek—a single pained inhale had sounded.

    Cleopatra cradled her stinging cheek with her hand, staring at the blonde girl—who's hand was outstretched with the palm turning a light pink color. "¿Qué coño?" [translation 8] she asked in a loud tone.

    The two girls flinched back.

    "Did you just slap me?"

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TRANSLATIONS:

translation one: "kiss my ass, bitch."
translation two: "excuse me."
translation three: "fuck!"
translation four: "do you speak English?"
translation five: "I don't speak English."
translation six: "what the fuck!"
translation seven: "oh, fuck no."
translation eight: "what the fuck?"

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not edited

well, welcome to the first chapter of Endure! i am really excited to write the following chapters, but please excuse my crappy writing (i just really wanted to update this story so bad). but, i need your opinion...i'm trying to best to depict this off the pilot and i'm trying my hardest to describe the characters in depth. i also experimented with describing/envisioning what Richie "sees" and how cleopatra falls into place with it