_Ray_

D.W. Stares at me like a deer in headlights. Like the first day Byx led her to our hideout. Like the day I lifted a gun to her the first time. Her eyes are chocolate brown with those little gold specks I noticed so long ago. We are not those people anymore. Not those kids so eager to rebel against everything and everyone, we stood for nothing but spite.

Byx and Benjo are by my side, though I can sense Rowens presence somewhere behind D.W. As well. I shift towards them ever so slightly but I can practically feel the nervous energy radiating off of them as well.

We caught her in a blind spot of the cameras. Anything that happens here will forever remain undocumented.

D.W.’s hair is still a bright rebellious green, without the pink highlights though. Her eyes are so angry. So full of rage. She wouldn’t last a day at my job. Her eyes narrow. My hands shake.

Tearing my eyes away from hers, I take in her outfit with equal parts amusement and nostalgia.

Black leather jacket and a long pink skirt. A dull pink though, not one noticeable enough to get kicked out, though I do wonder how she got in this building in the first place.

I do notice she’s breathing quickly, nervous. The nostalgia has clumped in my brain, sticking to every thought so that everything reminds me of something. I truly never thought I’d see her again after that day.

Then two weeks ago she sent me a letter. A threat, more like. She has power too, just a different kind. This was not a threat to me though, more so a threat to my puppet. The presidential cantidate I control. She needs him out of the running for her strategy.

That is what she stands for.

He is my only ticket to the top, and when I am so close… I knew it was only a matter of time before I would see her again, but nothing prepared for this.

She steps forward, reaching out a hand, then stops and backs away. Just two steps. The clicking of her shoes barely noticable. My hands aren’t shaking anymore.

I raise my gun and aim.

This is what I stand for.

——

_D.W._

Ray stares at me like a predator. Cold and calculating hid under a frozen smile on her face. The smile slips off and she glares. I almost laugh at how similar it is to our ‘first’ meeting. My breath quickens when I remember seeing Grayson for the first time. Tears sting but I remind myself what I came here to do.

Distract Ray, Byx, and Benjo long enough so Rowen can kill Ray’s puppet.

I meet her eyes and _god_. I can see so much in her eyes, I see her fear, her righteousness. Her iris’s are the frame and her pupils are the canvases. I miss her and I hate her and nothing has ever been the same since that day.

Does she miss our little group the same as I? Or is that entirely in the past for her?

She tears her eyes away. I wonder what she saw in mine. We’re adults now. I force myself to focus on the mission. Everything (and I mean everything) hinges on what I do next.

My eyes narrow though as I take in her business suit and professional hairdo. Not that damaged bleached mess she wore on her head last time I saw her.

Ray is completely different yet somehow I know she’s always been like this. In another life maybe she’d run for president instead of trying to get a pawn to the other side of the board. Maybe my threat is proof she never would’ve survived a full term.

I see a twinge of guilt in her eyes and instinctively I step forward. I start reaching out a hand, but then pull it back quickly. I take two steps back.

Benjo and Byx aren’t cowardly enough to avert their eyes. Byx looks like she’s about to cry, but her face is dead set on staying professional. Benjo looks detached. I know that look. He’s disassociating. He’s blocking everything about to happen out. His eyes are empty.

Ray’s eyes turn sad. She pulls her gun and aims. I stare down the barrel coming to terms fully with what me and Rowen planned. He almost wouldn’t let me, we fought for a while for who was going to do it.

We both knew it had to be me, but that didn’t make it any easier. I don’t have the combat experience that Rowen does. And… Ray hates me more. There is no guarantee that Ray would take as long with Rowen as she has with me.

I don’t _want _to die.

Neither of us have made a move. I take a deep breath knowing it might be my last. Rowen needs a little more time.

So I step forward.

One. Two. Three. Four.

Now for the first time in years I am standing face to face with my closest friend and worst enemy, so close I can feel a twinge of warm air when she exhales.

I hug her. Of all arms I suppose I will have to die in hers. Nonetheless, I have no regrets.

_This is what you came here to do._

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