(the world is ugly)

LIVIA HASN'T BEEN IN FRANCE for a long time.

Rather unfortunately, she doesn't speak French, so she had to stick with the rest of the McHills- Alicia had gone a few days before. After all, it was her father. Both of the twins and Jason speak the language, and Victoire was learning it. Livia had chosen Spanish as her third language. Chinese, English, Spanish, the three most widely spoken languages in the world- her parents liked to joke that she was unstoppable.

Ha, they wish.

Livia squinted against the sunlight as they left the airport. They had gotten here by the McHill's private jet, quite fortunately. Livia opted to sit near the very back, alone, with a book in her hands.

The McHills had everything planned and arranged, it seemed. They were going to take a car to the funeral home where the funeral would then take place. Alicia McHill had already gone ahead. Livia followed solemnly with the rest of her family.

Livia had met a few of the other members of the McHills. Delilah was a plumb and joyous woman, the opposite of the more quiet and stern Alicia. Harold Durand, on the other hand, was his sister's male counterpart. When they were kids, James often mentioned that he was scared of his uncle. Livia couldn't blame him.

The atmosphere was muted, as it should be, as they filed into the cars that filed into the airport carpark. Livia sat with her parents and sister.

She doesn't like funerals. She doesn't see a point in such ceremonies. When she grieves, she does it silently, but other people like to make a show and spectacle of it. Fine.

Even Victoire was oddly quiet as they arrived at the funeral home, her eyes glued to the ground, refusing to as much raise her little head. Her blonde hair was tied back in a little bun, and the younger girl wore a black dress that reached her knees. There was no sign of the usual energy.

Ah. So this is grieving.

While people like Livia mourned in the silence of their own homes, a solitary prison of their own making, others did it as a community. They raised their candles and lowered their heads in unison, whispering the names of those they lost.

Jason, on the other hand, walked with his usual charm, though you can clearly see that he was upset and uncomfortable as well, from the way he shut his eyes and inhaled.

Livia's eyes flickered to the twins. They stood side by side, back hunched ever-so-slightly, eyes to the front. Ah. They're trying to be a good role model for the two younger McHills.

Dylan managed to make it halfway towards the entrance before being swooped up in his father's arm.

Alicia was waiting inside. Her parents instantly swept up to her, offering their condolences. Alicia's eyes were red and puffy. She had always been close with her father. Livia offered her a polite nod and a sad smile. Alicia returned it. Pamela walked up to her, engulfing the woman in a quick hug.

Livia shut her eyes when she saw the flowers.

*

The next few hours were a blur. People talked, and Livia lost her parents in the crowd- Pierce Durand was very well-liked. Livia opted to stay in the corner quietly, greeting whoever came close if she recognised them, and offering a polite nod to those she wasn't familiar with.

Somehow, James had found his way to her side after a little bit, as the two sat wordlessly next to a window. Livia was too tired to snap at him, or to find a new position, so she let him stay.

"Well, this is awkward," Livia finally drawled, pulling her gaze away from Pamela, who had already managed to surround herself with a circle of other kids more or less her age. "My sister seems to have already found an army of new friends."

"Sometimes, I really want to ask that kid how she has so many friends," James snorted. "I wanted to ask my grandpa that, too, but, well. You see how that turned out."

"You decided to ask too late."

"Seems to be a pattern," James chuckled darkly. Livia decided not to ask what he was referring to.

"What now?"

"Everyone forgets this ever happens in a few weeks and moves on with their lives."

"No," Livia snorted. "I mean what happens after this. The funeral. We're returning tomorrow, unless my mother lied, correct?"

"Yeah," James nodded. "I'll assume everyone goes out for a dinner of some sort. Everyone splits up. Everyone goes back to where they live."

"Boring."

"It's a funeral, what did you expect?"

"I expected better."

With that, Livia shoved herself away from the window ledge, scrolling through the crowded, quiet room. She didn't turn her head to see if James followed. She saw no point in it. This would all be over soon, and they'd be back to their old selves. Enemies.

Were they?

No, Livia decided. One-sided enemies. Some people just want to make peace. Livia Wong has never been one of those people. She revelled in chaos, in war, when nothing was orderly but she could offer it. When the dust settled and the guns were laid down, Livia could offer nothing people didn't already have.

"This is pointless."

When she turned around, James was staring at her, refusing to wince or turn away like he did before.

"What is pointless?"

She expected him to say the funeral.

"You ignoring me and acting like this is all my fault. Y'know, for a while, you did have me thinking this was my fault. You're not a liar, so why would you say something that wasn't the truth?"

"It is the truth."

"You don't even know half of the story. You refused to talk to any of us. You listened to the briefing and that was it, nothing more. She wasn't mentioned thoroughly in any newspaper beyond a short essay- her family isn't famous enough for that, but you just decided what happened."

"I had a dream."

"I never thought you a person who relied on dreams for information, Livia."

"You don't know me at all, McHill."

"I do, though. Just because you don't like me now doesn't mean every moment we shared in the past automatically vanishes, Livia."

"Then tell me."Livia took a step forward, raising her head, staring at the boy she once knew closer than her own sister in the eye. "Tell me what happened that day. Tell me what Melody told you."

"I made a promise. I intend to honour it, unlike you."

Livia let out a strangled laugh. "If you're referring to what you think you mean, you're an idiot."

"I'm an honourable idiot who doesn't break their promises. There's a difference." James' words were code, mocking, haunting.

"We were children."

"I was barely a teenager."

"You were fifteen. You knew what you were doing."

"I was helping. It backfired. Was it partially because of me? Yes. Can I be held fully accountable? No."

"Who else is to blame? The driver? He already got arrested and suitably punished."

James fixed her with a cool look. "Don't ask me, ask yourself."

"Are you suggesting it's my fault?" Livia's mouth went slack in shock. "That is ridiculous! I wasn't even there!"

"You always repeat the same mistakes," James said quietly. "You never listen to the full story. You read half the article and assume the rest. You did it back when we were little and doing our exams, you do it now as a teenager- you'll do it when you're an adult. It makes you a fast reader, yes... but it's also your fatal flaw. Remember that."

With that, he began to walk away. Livia didn't let him.

"What does that even mean? How is it my fault Melody died, when I wasn't even there?"

"You refuse to read between the lines," James continued. "You refuse to see further than what fits your narrative. All your evidence and stories are one-sided. You've always refused to sympathise."

"If I refused to sympathise, you'd be dead," Livia glowered darkly.

James gave her an incendiary look. "Good luck."

Livia's nose flared, as she snapped her head away, turning her gaze from the boy who confused her to Pamela, giggling in the distance. And in that moment, something in her broke. Livia shut her eyes, her fists clenched and shaking, thin lines being printed into her soft flesh. She bared her teeth, walking towards the exit.

She needs air.

And she got it. The funeral house is surrounded by a quaint and homely little garden, surprisingly. Livia sat down on a wooden bench, fuming. How dare he act like she was in the wrong?

She knew she was not.

Was he?

To her dismay, she hesitated. She hesitated. What is wrong with her? Melody must be so displeased, wherever she was. Livia swallowed, lowering her head in shame.

She heard footsteps. Raising her head, she expected to see a stranger of some sorts, but she only saw James. She flexed her jaw, twisting her mouth into an ugly sneer.

"Go away."

James' reply was curt and short. "No."

"I don't want to talk to you."

"Why? Too scared to face your own mistakes?"

"You're the only mistake in this entire courtyard, James."

The boy let out a laugh. "That's funny. I'd expected that to be the broken down fountain." His gaze travelled to said marble fountain, raising an eyebrow. "Pity, isn't it? Such a beautiful thing, so poorly tended to."

"How would you know?"

James rolled his eyes. "This isn't my first visit here. I've seen what the people do to that thing."

Interesting.

"I don't want to talk to you."

"Yet here you are."

"Yet here I am. Oh well, I'll be free of you in a few months."

James raised an eyebrow. "Your mom hasn't told you?" He asked, his voice almost pitiful.

"Told me what?"

"That we're going into the same college?"

Livia forced her face to remain stony, though her heart crumbled. "Excuse me, what?"

She didn't know what to feel. On one hand, there was a horror- anger that she could never escape him no matter how hard she tried. Rage. Ire. Fear. On the other, there was... relief?

Relief that they would not be forever cut away from each other's lives, that she'd know that they'd be okay. But why did she still care? She shouldn't. She doesn't want to care.

"What about Jack?" Livia pressed. "Sarah?"

"Jack too," James hummed. "Sarah, fortunately for you, isn't going to the same school. You can celebrate about that, Wong, but if you think for one moment that it'll be so easy to get away from us... well, you're wrong. You're very, very wrong."

Livia tore her gaze away from him. "I don't want to talk to you," she repeated.

"If you didn't, you wouldn't have. You're curious, aren't you? You do want to talk to us, whether to spite us or just to know what's up. You've never been able to stop yourself," he mumbled, watching his hands twist and turn. "You have no self-regulation and you know it, but you still don't do anything about it. Your pride gets in the way of everything, you've lost too many friends because of it-"

"-shut up-"

"-you know what you do wrong but you never dare admit it. You think everyone laughs at you but everyone doesn't. You think people care so much, but they don't," he said pointedly. "Thinking with your head is important, yes, but not when it breaks your heart every time. Stop acting so strong, Livia. You can afford to be soft. Be soft while you still can. You won't have so many chances to do so in a few years..."

"Go away."

James raised his head, a knowing smile spreading on his face. "I've hit some spots, eh? You could afford to act less obvious. Everything you stand for, the persona you've so carefully cultivated can be destroyed by a few words."

"You don't know anything about me."

"I do, though, and you're scared of that. You're scared of the fact that no matter how hard you try to turn a new leaf, to start a new life, there's always people like me or Sarah, reminding you of your past. Make peace with it. Accidents happen, and sometimes, they're tragic, but there's nothing you can do about it. You can't change what's already happened."

"I can choose to change how I remember those things."

"Except you don't even remember it. What you know is shattered pieces, the ones that were obvious. What about the ones that are a bit more well hidden, the ones that aren't so dull, but might cut your fingers if you pick it up?"

"What did she tell you?"

"What?"

"What did she tell you that was so important, and what did you respond with that made her so mad she left?"

"I can't tell you."

"Then I hope you understand why I can't forgive you."

James gave her a long stare, and finally, he went away.

*

"Am I supposed to feel sad?"

Livia heard the sound of flowing water as Pamela turned on the tap. Victoire sat on her bed, cross-legged, her blonde locks falling down like a veil as she lowered her head.

"Sorry, what?"

Livia placed down her phone on the desk. Victoire had come knocking on her hotel door a bit after dinner, looking like a mess. She had already taken a shower, the girl relayed, and was bored to tears. Jason was calling his friends, and the hotel room they shared with the twins (four people! Livia thought in horror, she'll never be able to survive) felt too crowded and noisy for the little girl. So, after gaining permission, she ran down the corridor to Livia and Pamela's.

"I know I'm supposed to feel sad that Grandpa's gone, but I don't."

Livia burrowed her eyebrows, scooting towards Victoire.

"It's not bad, if that's what you mean."

"But it is," Victoire whimpered. "Mom's sad. James and Jack are unhappy. Jason, well, Jason doesn't seem sad, but I know he is. Dad's sad because Mom is. But I... don't."

"Your grandpa was old by the time you were born. I guess you were raised knowing he won't be around forever, unlike your older siblings."

"It's only... four years apart. Or six. Is there something wrong with me?"

"Victoire, why are you asking?"

The girl bit her lips.

"Victoire McHill."

"Hades College isn't a normal school. You know that. I didn't realise at first, but now I do. Some of my classmates have criminal histories. Others are violent and explosive. Why was I sent there?"

"It's a school for troubled teens. I thought you knew that."

"Yes. I do. But why was I sent there? Is there something wrong with me and Jason? Are we not normal? What did I do wrong? Do Mom and Dad not like us? Are we too much?"

"Victoire, I don't know what you're saying."

"Just tell me. Is there something wrong with me?" Victoire's lips quivered, and Livia let her lips part.

"There is nothing wrong with you, Victoire, you hear me?"

"How can you be so sure? Then why was I sent there?"

"You were sent there because your Mom and Dad are never home because of work. So that you could have more friends."

"But why... Hades? I'm not... troubled. I'm not... scary. I'm not bad or evil or vile!"

"Hades is a good school. A lot of kids who went in there troubled came out wonderful and perfectly fine. Now imagine if someone who isn't troubled got sent there. What do you think will happen?"

"I'll be okay."

"Yes you will."

In response to that, Victoire gave Livia a big hug. "Thank you."

"Why do I miss everything?"

Pamela came sauntering out from the bathroom in her green kimono pajama, frowning. "I always miss the interesting stuff. What happened?"

"I asked Livia some questions," Victoire replied, grinning. "Just dry your hair, Pammy."

"Oi, you little-" a glare from Livia shut her up. "Ugh. You're learning way too much from Livia. Why can't you be more like me?" Pamela whined, stomping her feet. "The world will be better with more mes."

"Narcissist," Livia snickered. "The world is going to die of arrogance with just one more of you- let's not think about what would happen with thousands."

"The world will be nicer," Pamela proudly declared, grinning from ear to ear. "I'm sure of it."

"That's scary..." Victoire faked a shudder, earning a glare from Pamela.

"God, the two of you just hate me, don't you?"

"Not my fault you're so hateable," Livia grimaced, shaking her head. "All the likeable genes went to Mareena and I."

Pamela's smile wavered. Victoire looked away, instantly uncomfortable. She didn't remember Mareena very well, but she knew very well what Livia was talking about.

"Sorry."

That lightened up spirits a bit more, as Pamela forced a smile. "Well, I brought snacks if either of you are hungry. Want some? You can give some to your brothers if you want," she told Victoire.

The blonde girl's eyes lit up. "Yes," she whispered. "I want food."

Pamela let out a chuckle, going through her bags. Finally, she brought up two plastic bags and handed it to Victoire. "Pick what you want. I got more. Just... don't take all of it. Look, I'm hungry too."

"I'm not that greedy," Victoire frowned. "Who do you think I am?"

"A child."

"I'm turning thirteen soon," Victoire grunted. "Teenager."

"You're still currently a pre-teen."

"Yeah, but soon I won't be-"

"-I'm talking about now."

Livia simply watched. She had no place in this conversation, she thought as a smile spread across her face. Children will be children.

And those forced to grow up too soon will have to deal with the consequences.

sorry for the late post! my mom confiscated all my devices, so writing became a race against time. chapters will probably turn from two times a week to once a week, or even less- I'm hoping to finish the book by the end of august, though that seems pretty impossible considering i have at least 10 chapters left.

still, i will probably be publishing the sequel of hexes for exes in the next few weeks, or even days! i won't start writing it yet, but keep your eyes out!