Page 19 of Run of Ruin

Without saying a word, he lifted his hand, palm open, and held it out toward me.

“Together?” He offered, his voice steady, but there was an unspoken promise behind it. His gaze didn’t waver, meeting mine with a quiet intensity that made my heart skip a beat.

I hesitated, a thousand thoughts running through my head. The cameras, the producers, the way they’d twist any action for the drama. Every fiber of my being screamed at me to think twice, to pull back, to keep my distance. But when I looked into his eyes, I saw something different. No masks, no games, just the same honesty that had been there last night.

“The cameras…” I challenged softly, unable to keep the edge from my voice.

Ezra just shrugged, unfazed. “Fuck them. They can think whatever they want. I told you I had your back. And I meant it.” His words were fierce.

Something in his tone made it impossible for me to hold back. He meant what he said. I could feel it, and maybe I wanted to believe him.

I let my reservations slip away, the protests in my head quieting as if they had no place here. Ezra was right. To hell with them. I reached out and gripped his hand, fingers intertwining with his. The connection was immediate, warm, steady, and comforting. It was a simple gesture, but it brought a wave of relief that washed over me, calming the storm in my chest. For a fleeting moment, it felt like there was nothing else in the world except the quiet strength of his presence.

Together, we walked toward the chaos beyond the door.

The roar of the crowd was a violent, deafening wave that crashed over me as soon as we stepped off the train. The air was thick with excitement and energy, the sea of people dressed in gleaming silver, copper, and gold, their makeup extravagant and their clothing even more outlandish. Jewelry glittered like gaudy treasure, and their eyes gleamed with an almost frantic desire for attention. The anticipation was palpable, the crowd was hungry and restless, just waiting for us to make our way through.

Ezra’s hand tightened around mine as we stepped onto the golden carpet, its plush surface stretching out before us like a path through the madness. The crowd parted around us like water around a stone, but they surged at the rope barriers, their voices crashing together in a chaotic symphony of shouts and calls. “How’s your brother?” “Why are you holding his hand?” “What’s wrong with your brother?” “Why are you so angry, Ezra?” “Are you two together?” “Are you single?” “Where are your parents?”

Each question felt like a needle, sharp and invasive, probing into places I didn’t want anyone to see. My mouth was plastered into a smile, the kind of smile that was forced and fake, but I could hear Nova’s voice in the back of my head saying ‘Smile, wave, and make an impression.’So, that’s what I did. One hand lifted, and I waved. But it was too much. Toofast. My heart was pounding in my chest, my skin crawling with the weight of their gaze.

Ezra’s grip on my hand was steady and unwavering. I looked over at him, finding that familiar softness in his gaze. He was watching me, his eyes saying more than words ever could. Without a single word, he silently begged me to stay focused, to keep my eyes on him and not on the madness around us. And so I did. I tuned out the world, focusing on the warmth of his hand in mine and the steady rhythm of our footsteps.

We moved through the crowd together, Ezra a solid presence by my side, and Nova leading the way, reveling in the attention. I could see Zaffir in the corner of my eye, the lens of his camera following every step we took, capturing our every movement.

Finally, we reached the long stretched vehicle. The moment I slid inside, a small breath of relief escaped me, and I leaned back, closing my eyes for just a second. The noise, the questions, the press of people. But just as I was about to release a full sigh of relief, Zaffir slipped inside right behind us, taking the seat opposite us without a second thought.

The red light on his camera flashed, and the tension in my chest knotted tighter. I wasn’t free. Not at all. The cameras were still rolling. The show wasn’t over.

Ezra pressed closer to my side. “It’s okay,” he whispered, his voice low and steady. I turned my gaze toward him, finding solace in the warmth of his touch.

But as I glanced over to where Zaffir was seated, camera in hand, I noticed something flicker in his eyes. A flash of something sharp, as his gaze briefly lingered on the way Ezra’s hand held mine.

Before I could dwell too much on it, Nova’s voice cut through the tension like a knife. “Well, that was fun!” sheexclaimed. She knocked on the partition between the cabin and the driver’s seat. “We’re ready,” she added, clearly eager to get to the welcome party.

The car lurched forward, jerking me from my thoughts. I wasn’t prepared for the sudden movement, and before I could steady myself, I felt myself tipping forward, my balance off-kilter. But then, in an instant, Ezra was there. His arm shot around my waist, pulling me back against him, keeping me from crashing forward into the seat. His face was inches from mine, his breath warm against my skin. I could feel the steady beat of his heart beneath my palm where it rested against his chest.

“I’ve got you,” he promised. I found myself leaning into him.

Nova’s voice droned on, explaining what we could expect at the party, her words a blur as they passed through my ears. My mind felt like it was in a whirlwind, spinning in every direction. I watched as trees with bright pink flowers framed the street as we passed. I wanted to focus on that, but I felt drawn to something else instead. Ezra’s sudden shift in demeanor had thrown me off. One moment, he was nothing but a scowl toward the cameras, keeping a cool distance. The next, he was openly showing affection, his hand in mine as if it were the most natural thing in the world. If it hadn’t been for the quiet, intimate moment we’d shared last night at the bar, where everything felt real, stripped of the cameras, I might have thought he was messing with me, trying to toy with my emotions, playing some game.

Finally, the car came to a halt, and we arrived at our destination. The doors opened, and I stepped out into a world I couldn’t have imagined even in my wildest dreams. There, in front of me, stood the center of Praxis itself.

I stared up at the grand structure, my breath catching inmy throat. The sight of it was overwhelming. I had never seen anything like this, anything this pristine. The buildings in our Collective, the ones that we considered beautiful, were battered by time, faded from years of neglect and lack of resources. This beautiful home was the opposite of that. Pristine, untouchable, as if it existed in a world where the pain and hardship the rest of Nexum had endured had never even touched it. The bright white walls gleamed in the sunlight, contrasting against the deep green of the lawn that stretched out in front of it. Elegant pillars rose up at the base of the house, supporting the grand structure above, while sweeping staircases led up to the massive entrance.

It was a symbol of everything Praxis claimed to uphold, the power, the wealth, the untouchable beauty that we, the lowly Collectives, could only dream of. Untouched by time, untouched by the desperate and dark history that Praxis liked to remind us of every single day. It was a thing of beauty, yes, but it also felt like a reminder of just how far away the people who lived inside this place were from the rest of us.

I swallowed hard, trying to focus as we made our way up the steps, but the sight of the gleaming home looming over me kept gnawing at the back of my mind. This was their world, beautiful, cold, and impenetrable. And we weren’t their guests. We were their entertainment.

Ezra was still holding my hand and I tried not to read too much into it. He was offering comfort, and I needed it. Simple as that.

Nova stopped just before the grand front doors and turned to us with a sharp look. “Alright, time to go in.” She glanced at our joined hands, her gaze lingering for a second too long. “One at a time, I’m afraid.”

I nodded, slowly pulling my hand from Ezra’s, more reluctant than I cared to admit. “Ezra, you first,” Nova instructed, givinghim a small push toward the door. He shot me one last encouraging look before disappearing inside.

I stood there for a moment, my fingers nervously playing with the fabric of my skirt. The sound of footsteps approaching interrupted my thoughts, and I looked up to find Zaffir standing next to me, his camera now off.

“You don’t have to be nervous,” he said, his voice almost too casual.

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