𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑
—𝚗𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟷𝟸—

     𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 Melody spoke. She felt different, like she was in one of the movies her mother and father rarely watched. It was like she was deprived from one of her books— a tragedy, yet simplistic in a way. But this was different. She was scared.

"I don't believe it," she chokes out, staring at the boy she could no longer recognize as Mason. "You lied?"

"Only because I thought you wouldn't believe me," Frost sighs, allowing his hands to fall from hers, and back to his sides. "And I didn't lie. Mason is my name, but it just happens to be the last."

"But would it have hurt to tell me the truth?" She asks incredilously.

"Would you have believed me if I had?" He questions, raising an eyebrow at the girl. "Melody, I'm supposed to be a myth— a fairytale, even. How would you even begin to understand that I was real, and not just a figment of your imagination?"

"You planted the book," Melody gasps, taking a few steps back as she meets his icy eyes, "you were the one who gave it to me—"

"Please calm down," Frost pleads. "I told you I would tell you everything. But it'll be in good time, Mel."

"But how can I believe you now— when you've already lied to me?" Melody runs her fingers through her brown curls, shaking her head. "It hasn't even been twenty four hours yet, and you've already begun to lose my trust. I knew I shouldn't have done this."

"Hey," he says holding her shoulders so that she would stop pacing. "I know you have every reason to not trust me, but you should. I have the solution to end all of the snow in Westbrooke."

"What?" Melody asks softly, her arms dropping to her sides. "You can? How?"

"I'll tell you when we reach the top of the mountain, okay?" Frost glances over to Jude, his eyes expectant. "We need to make it soon, before dark. Lets go."

---

"Is this where you live?" Melody questions the boy next to her, glancing around the dark and dripping cave. "It must be lonely up here, being all by yourself."

"Not really," Frost shrugs to himself, Jude perched on his arm as he leads Melody through the dimly lit place he called home. "I prefer to be by myself. I'm like you, I guess. I stay away from people."

"How did you—? Nevermind that," she shakes her head, shrugging his information of her off. "Now what is it exactly that I'm here for?"

"Hold on," the boy murmers, stopping in his place.

Staring into the darkness in front of them, Melody shivers. Frost seems composed, though, as he was already accustomed to the pitch black place and the coldness that lurked inside. He lifts up his right hand, his fingertips twitching.

In an instant, light travels from below his feet, lighting up the icy ground. The blue sensation follows a path a few feet away, before extending to everything around them. It brightens, and soon enough the cave is lit up in something Melody could only explain as the shine from a blue Christmas lantern.

Frost's hand falls back to his side as he looks over to Melody's awed expression. He smiles as her face shows both shock and admiration, something warm sparking within his chest.

Frost touches the place where his heart beats, his lips parting in concentration as the warmth continues to stay. He shakes his head quickly though, the ice returning to his heart through his veins.

"I shouldn't be surprised," Melody mutters before pausing, her eyes gleaming on the scene around her. "But this is beautiful."

"Yes, well, we should get going," Frost dismisses her, rubbing the back of his neck as he begins to move forward without her. "Only a bit to go before we reach the crystal."

"Crystal?" Melody is pulled from enchantment, jogging to catch up with the boy. "What kind of crystal?"

"The crystal is what gives me power," Frost responds, his eyes straight ahead of them. "My father found it while mining one day, and put it on a necklace for my mother when they were together. She passed it on to me when I was born, and I wore it up until I ran away."

"I thought your father was a merchant," Melody says.

"He wasn't," the boy rolls his eyes. "That's something the books got wrong. He was a miner for the East Bank, and happened to strike gems while he was working with some of the others. The mines were shut down soon after that, and father left Westbrooke for a new job."

"So he didn't leave you and your mother?"

"Don't believe everything you read," he sighs. "My father moved on for something better, I suppose. But in order to support us, he still had to send money every month. I'm not sure if he still does or not, but I don't think I want to find out what goes on in that town anymore."

"Why couldn't you just come back to Westbrooke?" Melody presses. "Wouldn't it be a lot easier for you to solve your problems?"

"Do you really think my old town would accept me if I showed them the ice in my fingertips?" He questions, stopping as he turns to face her. "I'm the reason the snow falls outside, and everyone knows it. Why do you think they're still searching for me after all these years?"

"But what if you could prove that you aren't dangerous? Stopping the snow could gain you some credit, and I'm sure they know teenagers have their occasional mood swings. You could show them it was all a misunderstanding."

"It doesn't matter about going back," Frost states, staring down into the girl's bright eyes. "I don't want to anymore, I just want to be normal again. I want for all of this to stop, so I can finally get away. Start somewhere new and live my life just like anyone else."

"This— this is amazing, Frost," Melody insists. "Why would you give it up?"

"Because it's not all fun and games, Mel. How do you think I got Westbrooke in this mess? I screwed up, and I need to fix it. That's why I need your help."

"I'm listening," the girl says.

"Like you already know, I planted the book for you to find, and hoped you'd read it. I figured that if you read up enough on it, you'd eventually look for more of a backstory," he starts. "And I was right. But the reason I chose you is that you have the patience and intelligence to sit through hundreds of books and never get tired.

"I was hoping that you could help me destroy the crystal. It'll take some time for sure, but I need you to recall anything you've ever read about geminite crystals. Anything at all could help me."

"That's all you needed me for?" The girl asks, seemingly disappointed. "To tell you what I know about a rare diamond? That's it?"

Frost nods at her words, triggering the scoff that escapes her lips as she throws her arms in the air. Finally, Melody had lost her composure.

"Why couldn't you just do it yourself? Honestly, all you have to do is make a visit to the library to find a book, and read it." Melody grits her teeth, running her hands down her face. "Come on, Frost."

"It's not that easy," Frost's anger flares as Melody's agitation becomes clear. "You think I haven't tried that? The last time I did, the cops showed up after the librarian of East Side recognized me immediately— even with a hood on. I've tried contacts, but they freeze instantly and crack to pieces. Trust me, I didn't want to ask you for help."

Even though Melody was aggravated with Frost, his words formed a pang in her chest that hit like a mallet. She knew he wouldn't have asked her— she was a nobody. Of course the only reason he wanted her help was for her book smarts. That thought alone made her want to hide away in a closet, and stay away from him (and everyone else, for that matter) for as long as she lived.

But even if she did want to help, she couldn't recall reading anything about a geminite crystal. In all her years of flipping through pages and opening new books, she hadn't even heard of such a mineral.

"I don't know anything about your stupid crystal," Melody murmers, her eyes following to the ice at her feet. "I think you should find someone else to help you, because I'm not suited for this kind of thing."

"There has to be something you've read or heard about it," he presses, his sharp blue eyes focused in on her. "Maybe a diamond that's made of the same—"

"I said I don't know." The girl says firmly, taking a step backward as she shakes her head. "Find someone else to help you, I'm going home."

Melody uncatiously turns, swiftly moving away from the boy. Her eyes were blindsided by disappointment and the urge to hit something. But what would be the point? It wouldn't prove anything, or get her anywhere. She settled for something more suddle, though, as it was a better option.

She stored it away, and hid the pain with a straight face.

"Melody, you don't understand," Frost rushes, reaching out to grab her arm. "There are bad people looking for me, I need to end this. I need your help, or they'll destroy Westbrooke in the process of finding me. Please, you have to—"

Melody cries out as the ice from Frost's fingertips burn into her arm. The boy doesn't notice quick enough, but still jerks his hand back in an attempt to stop the ice from spreading too far into her skin. But instead of dissapearing, the blue light that reached her crawled up into a spiral, and etched itself into a swirl on the wrist of the girl.

"Don't touch me," Melody snaps as tears well into her eyes, Frost reaching out to both comfort her and to try and take away the pain he caused. "Stay away from me, I don't want any part of you or your magic."

"Please, Mel," he pleads, his eyes begging. "You have to listen, I didn't tell you everything—"

"Just stop," she whispers. "You've already caused enough damage."

And with one last glance, Melody darts away from Frost, her eyes and heart solely focused on the small town below the mountain. She wasn't going back, nor looking in the boy's general direction.

How could she?

After all, he had already hurt her enough.

________