Page 14 of Fragile Facade
All I know is what Ineed. Not who I am.
I need attention. I need recognition. I need importance and power. I need superiority. To get all that, I charm and lie and piss people off to get the rise out of them I require. I manipulate and force with no respect for their feelings because fuck them, their feelings don’t matter compared to mine. These aremyneeds, and it’s a cutthroat world, so I’m going to be the most cutthroat of them all. I’ll do whatever it takes to feed my ego, even if I don’t understand why it craves such things.
I didn’t save my brother as a kid.
I didn’t do anything other than sit with him in the lonely darkness while our parents called him sick but forgot to call me sick because I learned to act better than he could. I never taught him to act. I didn’t fucking help him until I was a teenager and we killed our parents in the span of half an hour. That night, I shed the skin of my former self and became this new, unclear, twisted version of myself. Because this version protected Krypt, the one and only person I give a fuck about in this dire world. I tell myself that I’m his hero and I did it for him, but…
I saved him to give myself the ego boost. I helped him to prove that I was stronger than him. I freed him so we could murder together, so I’d have someone to connect with over something so monumental. I do love him, and he’s my brother…
But it’s too late because he doesn’t even need me anymore.
But Soren does. He can’t chase Death on his own, and if I can aid him in any way, even if it’s sinister and unethical, I’ll do it because of that necessity within me that needs to be in control of everyone and everything. Because of the part of me that needs to shape him into a toy for my own amusement.
“What are you still doing here?” Director asks, coming to stand where I’ve been zoned out, staring through the slats in the door to Gregory Malone’s cell. “Meeting is?—”
“I’m aware.” I ball my fists, loathing that he’s checking up on me. “Come to babysit me like you always do?”
Director steps up beside me, peering at Malone just sitting on the floor. He’s staring at the wall, but his mind hasn’t snapped yet. It will soon, especially now that Axel has permission to test some of his new methods on him.
“I’m not babysitting, but you have to admit, you’re irresponsible sometimes.”
Becausemypriorities are most important, but other people like to shove theirs down my throat. I want life to be on my agenda, not anyone else’s. When I first became a Vile Boy and joined the ten, Director almost kicked me right back out because I didn’t want to put the needs of a society before my own. I learned to act, and over the years, I got really good at it. Now I care. Not about anyone, but about belonging. I want to be a member of Vile House because this is the most powerful place for me to be. I want to save Moros because it’s the only place I can imagine living. I want to harness the power that comes with wearing a white and black mask, and I want to continue living my agenda with the backing of a society that praises me for who I am instead of chaining me for it.
“I’ve been good,” I remind him, hating that he hasn’t noticed.
“Yeah, you have,” he says, contradicting my thoughts. “But the past few days, you’ve been… I can tell when you’re slipping, Riot.”
“I’m not fucking slipping.”
“What’s going on with you and Ghost?”
I grin at Gregory Malone’s back. “A bargain. You can’t butt in.”
“I can, and I will if things get out of hand. You’re brethren first and foremost.” He turns his back to the door, looking across the hall at another door, its occupant chattering to herself. “I need you. Both of you. Don’t make me step in.”
What would he even do if he stepped in? He’s locked us up, put us through hell, tried to get us to break and bend to his will, but he either fails or doesn’t try to actually succeed… because he never has. Part of me wonders if he just does it to show there are consequences because I’ve never actually gotten the impression that he wants to change us.
“What would you do?” I ask, goading him and letting my facades shift beneath my surface until he gives me a hint at which one he needs right now.
“Step in to make sure you’re both okay.”
“Okay?” I look at him, trying to decipher his meaning.
“I understand your need to rival one another, but the two of you aren’t… your games are deadly, whether you mean for them to be or not. It would hurt me if you ever succeeded in hurting each other irreparably.” He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “So? Are you close to that yet?”
I look away. “I’m keeping him from his curse, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“For him or for you? Who benefits from this?”
We both do. “You’re the one who says I’m sociopathic, so who do you think benefits more?”
“I never… you have some of the traits, Riot. Just be careful and remember that you’re family.” He bumps my shoulder to add ease to the conversation. “And don’t lock me out if he needs help.”
I’ll be the one helping him, thanks.
Done with this conversation, I grab my bag with my change of clothes and my mask. “Have a meeting to get to. Want me to take Lockan Tate out of there?”
Director huffs, adding a smile. “I want you to get him kicked out.”
