(wings of death)

SOMETIMES, LIVIA FEELS LIKE she's going insane.

It certainly is exhausting, listening to Pamela rant about subjects she had no interest in, but not wanting to show that she wasn't listening at all. So she sat there, scrolling through her phone, occasionally responding with a 'mhm' so that Pamela wouldn't get angry. So far, it was working.

"Nice," she mumbled when Pamela paused after a lengthy monologue. "That's awesome."

Pamela flashed a smile. "I know right?"

Livia's eyes flickered up from her phone. "Yeah, that really is."

Rinse and repeat, until the clock struck one in the afternoon, and Pamela got up from the couch. "I'm heading out."

Livia raised an eyebrow. "Where to? Didn't you just go to Anya's yesterday?"

Pamela rolled her eyes. "So? Besides, I'm not heading to hers today. We agreed to meet at Theo's."

"Theo? As in Theodore Collins?"

Pamela's eyes lit up. "Yeah! You know him- oh wait, yeah, you know Madi and like, everyone in this city."

"I hung out with him once back when I like, a kid. Nice guy. Wait, why are you hanging around his house?"

Pamela beamed with happiness. "He invited Anya and I. Y'know, the Bellington stuff. You do know he's King, right?"

Livia stared at her younger sister for a long time, before slowly drawling, "You have a crush on him, don't you?"

To Pamela's credit, she didn't blush or flush. She only looked a bit scandalised at such a suggestion, frowning, "What makes you think that?"

"Oh, I don't know, how you smiled when you told me he invited you over?"

Pamela rolled her eyes. "We're just friends- allies, technically speaking, but pretty much the same thing. Aaliyah got ears at school... I'm revealing too much, aren't I?"

"Just go," Livia shooed, pushing Pamela further away from the couch. "Go get your boy, my dear little sister. Go get the boy."

"I'm not romantically interested in him!"

Livia gave Pamela a blank stare. "I can see right through you, missy. Don't bother lying."

"Livia. Two people can be friends and of the opposite gender without liking each other! Look at you and the twins back then, for example! And they with everyone else!"

"That's different," Livia shrugged. "You, on the other hand..."

Pamela huffed. "Look, Anya is going too."

Livia waved her off. "Oh, just go, I got an article to finish."

Pamela beamed brightly, causing Livia to roll her eyes as her sister grabbed her purse and left the house. Glancing out of the window, Livia could see a car pull up. From the car, a mid-eastern girl poked her head out, motioning at Pamela to hurry up. Anya Bazdar.

Livia let out a soft sigh. She had no idea where her mother had gone, and the house now felt oddly empty without anyone else in it. For a moment, the girl considered turning on the music. After a bit of thought, Livia did just so, letting the beat take over the silent house, her body swaying to the melody (as much as she could, considering she's sitting on a couch anyways).

It was much too big. It still felt hollow, but it was better than before. Livia was too lazy to try anything else anyways, so she stuck with that position.

For a bit, that was all Livia did. After she finished her article, she laid down on the sofa and stared at the ceiling. She didn't know how much time passed. She didn't care how much time passed.

And then: a knock.

Maybe knocks would be the better way to describe the frantic drumming against the front door, as Livia frowned. Quickly turning off the music, Livia walked towards the front door, opening it. Before she could bother seeing who it was, she asked, "Who's there?"

"Uh..."

"Oh, it's you."

James McHill in all his opulent glory. Livia frowned, leaning against the doorway. "If you're here for something useless, please go away. If you're here for Pamela, she's out. If you're here for my parents, they're not home either."

"I can't be here for you?"

Livia rolled her eyes so hard her whites were showing. "Don't kid yourself, McHill. What do you want?"

James shied away from her gaze. "If that's how you're going to act, I don't think I want to tell you anymore."

James was upset, Livia could tell that much. And now, he's baiting Livia. Fine. Two can play this game.

"What do you want?" Livia asked once more, tapping her fingers on her phone, growing more and more impatient. "Let's get this done with, shall we?"

It's probably another attempt to rile her up. Maybe James wants to borrow something. Maybe this is about Melody.

What came out of James' mouth was not what Livia expected.

"Remember my grandpa?"

"Maternal or paternal?"

"Maternal."

"The one in France?"

"The one in France."

Livia knew which one. She had visited them with the McHills once, years ago, when they went to Paris for a short trip. Grandpa Durand was absolutely wonderful to her.

"What happened?"

"He died."

Livia froze. She hadn't expected that. She was expecting something like "he's coming to visit and he wants to see you again!" Not that the man is dead.

By this point, James had his eyes shut, swallowing. "He's gone. Gone forever. He died in his sleep."

Livia stood there for another moment, before nimbly pushing open the door. James recoiled, obviously surprised by the act. He had not been expecting Livia to let him in, to even talk to him. He probably thought Livia would slam the door close in his face.

"Come in. I'll make you some tea."

For the next few minutes, Livia led James into the living room, pushing away her things to make room. She then made him a nice cup of Chinese tea, handing it to him carefully.

"It's hot," she informed him. James nodded in thanks, accepting the cup. Livia could still tell that he was numb- or just surprised, she couldn't tell. She didn't bother trying to.

She'd be lying if she said she didn't feel guilty over dismissing him so easily. So, she let her eyes shut

"What happened?"

James let out a bitter laugh. "He died. That's what happened."

"Death is never that simple."

James swallowed. "Yeah, I guess not."

"When's the funeral?"

"We haven't decided yet. Probably in a week or two. My mom will probably ask you guys to come. My grandpa really liked you guys, after all."

Livia bit her lips, choosing to stay quiet. She picked up her own cup, taking a quiet sip. James mimicked her actions, sucking in a deep breath.

She let him talk.

"I just can't believe he's gone, you know? I visited him during Christmas. He was still perfectly okay. Like, he survived cancer. He lived so healthily for so many years, and snap. I come home after practise and there's Mom standing there, tears in her eyes, telling you that he's gone.

"It happened so fast. It wasn't like... Melody, where I knew when and how it happened. It just did. There was no reminder moments before. No 'I should have known'. One moment everything is fine. The next?"

"He was a wonderful man," Livia finally supplied quietly, hoping to move away from the subject of Melody. "Looks awfully like you. Or, well, the other way around."

"He was amazing. When we were kids, he'd play sports with us. And he was like... seventy then. He listened to Victoire talk about all her problems, laughed when Jason got into trouble. I still remember his face when he saw Dylan for the first time." By then, a smile had crossed James' face, or at least a ghost of it. "Now I just feel empty. I'm not really sad. I guess we've been bracing ourselves for this for years. It's just..."

"Shocking, I know. Do you remember my grandpa?"

"One died before you were even born. The other's still alive... living in an elderly centre, right?"

Livia nodded. "Remember when I was thirteen, and we had that scare when he was sent to hospital after being found unconscious in his living room?"

"I thought you would have a heart attack right there," James snorted. "It was all you would talk about that day at school. How worried you were. How scared you were."

"That was my way of coping."

"Not anymore."

Livia flicked him a glare. "Don't ruin the moment, McHill."

James shook his head. "You still have that edge. Y'know, sometimes, you can afford to be soft."

Livia didn't say anything, so James continued. "I don't know how my grandma's coping. I think that's the worst bit. She acts like she hates my grandpa, but I know she loves him. The house is going to feel so empty for her without him. At least she still got Minnie."

Minnie, James' grandmother's dog. Victoire named it, if Livia remembers correctly, after Minerva McGonagall. Golden labrador. She's never met her. Maybe she will this time. Probably not.

"Death is a strange thing."

"It is." James exhaled. "It really is."

They sat like that for a while.

"God, I miss him."

"I know you do," Livia shrugged. "But there's nothing you can really do about it now. Nothing is going to bring him back."

"I know," James said, mildly irritated. "I'm not an idiot, or, well, a protagonist in a young adult fantasy novel. Doesn't mean I can't be upset about it."

"No one ever said that you couldn't."

"You kind of are."

See, Livia is a bitch, but she isn't nasty enough to start an argument when James was so obviously upset, so she didn't say anything. She didn't think she could stop herself from saying something offensive if she did. She's not a good person, but she's not a terrible one either. Somewhere in between, like everyone else.

"So what are you going to do now?"

James stared at her, confused. "What?" He finally asked after a few seconds.

"What are you going to do now, since your grandpa is gone?"

"Cry, probably," James huffed, hugging his legs. "Maybe listen to a lot of Glee performances. Those always cheer me up."

"Trust me, I've tried, doesn't work."

James was clearly not expecting her to be so open about it, as he stared at her for a long time. Livia avoided his gaze, sipping some tea from her cup, lowering her head.

"So, what are you going to do?"

"Post an Instagram tribute to him."

"James Francis McHill," Livia warned, frowning. "I'm serious."

"There's not much I can do. Attend his funeral. Comfort my mom and Victoire and grandma... well, everyone that was ever close to him. Let Jason rant to me instead. Be a good older brother."

"You already are one."

James let out a strangled laugh. "If I was, Victoire wouldn't always act out-of-line. I'd be able to cook. Take care of them without any help."

Livia sighed. "James. You're only eighteen. Most eighteen year olds are struggling with schoolwork and university, going to parties and crying themselves to sleep. They aren't tucking in their younger siblings and being the one in charge of all their brothers and sisters. You have people helping you, so what? You're unable to cook well, so what? Jack is doing that for you."

"You know, for someone who allegedly hates my guts, you're being awfully supportive right now."

"Don't push it," Livia sniped. "Seriously. Don't push it."

James held up his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, Ms Wong, alright," he huffed, shaking his head. "You are so aggressive."

"It's fun, unless you're the one receiving it."

James scoffed. "I've been the one receiving it since you came back. If anyone knows how fun it is, it's me."

"I know."

Silence washed over to them again, but this one was no longer awkward. It was like they were kids again, laughing and chatting after a hard day at school. Just the two of them, twin supernovas alone in the world. A boy with a heart of malleable gold, and a girl who replaced hers with steel. Ocean-boys and storm-girls, hidden depth and secrets untold. Livia let her eyes shut, enjoying the quiet. Besides her, James stilled, staring blankly at the television in front of them.

Livia let out a deep exhale. The world is mad, but there's always moments like this that she regains her sanity and focus. She can look at the world and know what is right and wrong and what shouldn't be happening. She's capable of being okay, even if it's just whispers when she thinks no one is watching- everything will be okay, everything will be okay- and unexpected hugs from those she loved.

She felt like she was twelve again, when she didn't know how cruel the world is and how fast everything came and went. When she thought she knew everything but actually didn't. Livia buried her nails in the leather of the couch, letting her tongue run over her teeth before swallowing.

And then, James let out a strangled sob. Livia glanced over, and realised that he hadn't stopped crying. He was frantically wiping away at his tears, and against her own wishes, Livia wrapped her arm around his shoulder, pulling him towards her.

James didn't resist. He was too shocked to.

"I miss him."

"I know you do, I know you do."

*

Forgiveness is a strange thing. It gives and it takes. It's both a wonderful thing and a terrible thing. It might heal you, or it might wreck you once more. Livia wasn't sure which one it would be for her. She didn't know if she wanted to know.

Maybe she doesn't.

Maybe she does.

It feels like purgatory, Livia thought, in between two extremes, awaiting judgement. It slowly kills you, a different kind of pain. Slow burn, Livia decided. Lines are blurred, you tread on both, but you can't decide. So you don't.

But the entire world is pressuring you to choose one. You try to pick, maybe you decide, but you chicken out at the last second. Rinse and repeat. You never have a choice. You never become anything more than that. You never proceed past the make your character screen of every video game.

All her life, Livia's answer had been firm: No. Were there moments where she wanted to choose the other? Yes. All the time, but she always decided. Always managed to decide. But now she didn't know anymore, and she hated that feeling more than anything in the world.

She curled herself into a ball. She considered the pros and the cons. She still doesn't know, and it's so strange.

On one hand, there was pride.

On the other, it was want.

So, what do you choose? Do you give into your whims and wants, or do you treasure your sacred pride to the end of days, when Ragnorak shocks the earth as you stand there, watching the destruction and the death of gods?

Livia Wong did not know

-
Pray for Naya Rivera.

I really, really hope she's okay. She's one of my favourite actresses. I love her so much.