(𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚞𝚎.) 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑, 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐌𝐄
❝ WHERE THE HELL ARE WE? ❞

☂

"Ow."

"My face!"

Poet and Paris slowly stood up from the ground, coughing and looking around the alley they were on. People would pass by, not glancing at the two, and would occasionally greet others.

"Where the hell are we?" Paris mumbled under his breath, receiving a nudge on the side by his aunt who heard the curse word. He apologized quickly and the two walked away into the light, ignoring the flash behind them.

"Ow," Poet winced, clutching her head in pain. She looked around and saw a lot of women talking to the others and she realized that every little thought running around in her brain, were the troubled thoughts from those women. "God, their thoughts... they're really, really loud."

Paris reached for her hand and held it, looking around the place while healing the woman. When he didn't feel her pain, he tilted his head to the side and walked out to the open.

"Where are the others?" He questioned. Poet looked around.

"Klaus?" She called out from behind her and walked towards the nearby trash cans. "Diego?"

"Five?" Paris called out. But they received nothing.

"They're gone," Poet breathed out, running towards where two women were at. "Hi, sorry for intruding, but what year is it?"

"Oh, sweetie, are you okay?" A woman asked, holding her hand up to touch Poet's forehead. Paris appeared by her side and the woman jumped back. "Are you two lost?"

"Something like that," Poet nodded. "I'm Poet Capulet and this is my nephew Paris."

"Nice to meet you," the woman nodded, shaking her hand and Paris'. The other woman shook their hands, too. "My name's Darlene Johnson and this is my friend, Nancy Day."

"Hi," Poet smiled before it trailed off her face. "Anyways, what year is it?"

"It's 1962, darling," Darlene answered. "You sure you're alright?" At noticing the dirt and blood on the two, she gasped. "Oh, you two, come with me. You two can clean yourselves up."

"That's ok—"

"I can make you some food," Nancy cut Poet off. Darlene nodded and the two immediately led them towards Darlene's house nearby.

The two women fussed over the Capulets, patting away any remaining dirt on Paris' face. He would blush here and there when they would pinch his cheeks and compliment his eyes, and all Poet could do was hold in her laughter while questioning everything.

When they made it to Darlene's house, Nancy immediately went to the kitchen where she prepared a quick meal. Poet looked around and saw a photo of Darlene with a man.

"Is that your husband?" She asked, thanking Darlene who gave her a cup of coffee. Darlene looked at what she was looking and snorted.

"No, that's my brother," she explained. "I'm not married."

"Oh, sorry."

"Nancy is, though," Darlene continued. "But, since many women like coming to my house and love questioning about my love life, I lie that he's my husband."

"How's that going?"

"Told then he's dead," Darlene bluntly said. "So, I'm a widow now, but it's better than being talked about behind your back about not being married. All these women are just so... brainwashed because of society's views on what women should do."

"So, you're independent?" Paris questioned. The woman nodded.

"Now," she changed subjects. "Where are you two from?"

"We're both from New York," Poet lied easily.

"Oh, how'd you land there to here?"

"What exactly is here?"

"Dallas, Texas, silly," Darlene chuckled before smiling at Nancy who came in with two plates filled with eggs and sausages. "Now, you two eat and I'll get you new clothes."

She walked away to grab a set of clothes for Poet and Nancy turned to look at Paris who was eyeing the food with a watering mouth.

"How old are you?" Nancy questioned Paris. Paris mumbled his age and the woman nodded. She turned around to grab her keys from her purse and when her back was faced towards the two, Paris immediately ate his food. "I'll be right back. My son's your age and you two might be the same size, so I'll be right back and get those clothes for you."

"Thank you."

When Nancy left and Darlene was nowhere in sight, Poet looked at Paris with a panicked look. "Alright, well, we now know that it's 1962. We're in Dallas, Texas, and we don't know if the others are alive or not."

"All we know is that Five went back in time years," Paris sighed. "Now what? We're stuck here? We're not even supposed to be in this timeline."

"I know, Paris."

"We can't even time travel because we need Five for that and we don't know where he is," Paris breathed out and Poet raised a red orb to his head to calm him down. His panicked breaths slowed down and she sighed in relief, grabbing his hand.

"Look, right now, we have to figure out how we're going to handle all this," she rubbed her forehead. "We can figure this out, right? Yeah, we can do it. We already dealt with almost losing our house and we dealt with our deaths and such. We can do this, yeah?"

"Yeah," Paris nodded.

The door opened and Darlene came into view. Nancy passed Paris a black shirt and some plaid pants. She looked down at his worn out converse and sighed.

"That will do for now," she smiled.

"And here's yours," Darlene passed her the clothes and Poet stared at the clothing as she tried to hide her distaste for the skirt she saw. She grabbed the long-sleeved shirt, a red skirt, and a belt. Darlene also looked down at her shoes and hummed with amusement at seeing the ankle boots she had on. "What size of shoes are you?"

Poet told the woman her shoe size and Darlene lit up when she did. She ran off and came back with shoes, a couple of white heels that made Poet wince again. She could already feel her feet hurting.

"Here ya' go, darling," Darlene said, passing her the heels. "We're the same size so they'll fit."

Poet nodded and grabbed them. She and Paris were taken to separate rooms and when Poet changed into the clothes, she whined quietly like a child.

"I don't even like skirts," she mumbled to herself before sighing and putting on the heels. She groaned at the feeling. "I hate this."

She walked out of the bathroom as soon as Paris did, too, and she gushed over him.

"Aunt Poet, don't start," he sighed.

"You're so adorable," she ruffled his hair and he groaned, swatting her hand away softly away from his curls. "I'm just saying."

She chuckled and he shook his head before glancing at her clothes. He smiled. "Well, you look beautiful."

"I know," Piet breathed out, smoothing the skirt. "Don't have to tell me."

Her joking tone and the smile on her face caused him to smile, too.

"New year new us, huh?"

"Pretty much."

☂

AUTHOR'S NOTE

prologue is done 😌
and this is not edited
by the way