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A knock cut through the droning of the YouTuber on their laptop’s screen. After the WAN For All meeting had once again devolved into a heated discussion about Port-Spider, they just needed to wind down. They paused the video, and without missing a beat, they called out.
“Yeah?”
The doorknob twisted, and Dina’s head popped in through the gap.
“Hey, someone’s here for you.”
Rozalia’s brows furrowed, and they took the laptop off their lap.
“Really?”
The list of people who would come to knock on her door unannounced was short. Their family would have called or texted, and not many others besides them knew their room number, unless they had hunted it down.
Maybe it was Jenny K, they had her muted after all, and they’d left the WAN For All meeting early while she wasn’t looking. Rozalia almost groaned at the thought. Oh, fuck. If it were Jenny K, they were jumping out the window. They sighed and shifted out of their bed. Skirting around some of the clutter on the floor, they left their room and walked up to the front door. Rozalia took a sharp breath and opened it with one decisive swing.
The blood left their head so fast that their legs nearly gave out from under them.
In the pale fluorescent light of the hallway, she really did look like an apparition from their deepest, darkest nightmares. Rozalia couldn’t speak. They could only stare, their heart rate picking up.
“Long time no see,” Gabriela grinned, leaning against the doorframe.
She looked like some twisted version of Gabriela from the night they had parted ways. Similar, but not quite the same. Sickly pale with even deeper under-eye bags, her eyelids smeared with copious amounts of black eyeliner and eyeshadow. She was wearing jeans, a gray shirt, and a black leather jacket that dwarfed her slim frame. However, the most notable thing was the sharp smell of spirit coming from her. It hit Rozalia like a streetcar, and they instinctively scrunched their face in disgust.
“Are you...drunk?”
Rozalia hated that those were the first words that came out of their mouth, after those three fucking years. All of this time, they had been wondering what they could even say to her if they ever met again. Apologies, pleas, insults? But now…they didn't want to speak at all. They wanted to punch her right on the nose and watch her squirm.
“Yep. Just thought I would stop by and let you know that I was back in the neighborhood.”
As she spoke, her Polish accent rang loud and clear. Her voice had always carried a hint of it, as her moms had always preferred it and Celtic over English. It seemed like almost three years of neglecting the language had taken its toll on her. Or maybe, she just couldn’t bother.
“You missed Ostara.”
Rozalia tried to make it sound like a playful remark, but their voice cracked. They bit down on their lip. The other softly scoffed and crossed her arms.
“I know, bummer. It’s quite a struggle to move into this shithole city. There’s still Bastille Day.”
They dug their nails into their palms, their skin burning.
“Why?” they asked.
She raised a brow. “Why what?”
“Why… why did you come here?” they choked out.
“So I could see the look on your stupid face,” Gabriela chuckled, her eyes flitting around, as if trying to get her fill of them. Rozalia shivered.
“…So, you did. G-Get out. “
“Aw, come on, I’m generous. Let’s say you can ask me two more questions before I leave.”
“This isn’t a game. Just go,” Rozalia hissed, and slammed the door in her face.
They stared ahead at the door. They could still sense them as they lingered outside, the hair at the back of their neck standing at attention. Rozalia stared at the door for at least a minute, waiting for her to leave. Slowly but surely, her smell faded, and they unclenched their fingers, one by one. They turned around, coming face to face with Dina. Zir eyes were opened impossibly wide, awash with concern they had only seen on zir face once before.
“Roz, you’re shaking.” Ze reached out a hand towards them, but pulled it back just as quickly. “I’ll call campus security.”
“No,” they squeaked out, their face burning with shame at how fast they replied. “It’s my ex, we just...we broke up on bad terms when I was younger.”
Their roommate squinted at them, trying to detect if there was anything more to the situation that they weren’t telling her. And there was a lot, though they hoped it did not show. Rozalia squirmed under zir gaze. The two had become friends over the few months they had been living together, but they didn’t like to get into their past. They never even told anyone new about Gabriela, beyond vague mentions of a past girlfriend.
Three Portlands may have been a city full of oddities, but even then, they knew no one else could truly understand their situation. They couldn’t deal with the armchair psychologists and thanatologists butting in to say what they thought was the problem. Speaking as if their ‘professional’ opinion was the end-all be-all, and Rozalia was simply too stupid to comprehend it. They’d shared their experience just once on Planasthai Post-It, and that was exactly how it had gone down. Rozalia had to take down the post after just one day.
As much as they liked Dina, ze hadn’t even been raised there. Even after a few months, ze still balked at many things from under the Veil. So they just kept it to themself. There was never any need for zir to know that about their past. Well, until… until Gabriela came knocking.
“Are you sure? You know that they don’t take these matters lightly. They can deal with her,” ze continued.
A heavy silence hung in the air. Rozalia dragged a hand down their face, staring at their feet.
“Don’t. Just don’t call. It’s okay.”
They went into their bedroom and slammed the door before Dina could even protest. WAN, they were a bad friend. A really, really bad friend. They shouldn’t blow zir off like that just because an ex turned up at their door. Tears stung at the corners of their eyes as they curled up on their bed. They just couldn’t bear it, talking about it was too much. It was just too much. Everyone would be better off this way, they didn’t need to hear their pitiful complaints.
Gabriela’s visit ate away at them for the rest of the day. Going to her class, grabbing a coffee from her favorite place, or doom-scrolling at home. The image of her standing in their doorway would not let up, would not leave her mind. Staring at her with that smug look, cool blue eyes with something brimming in them. It was as if Gabriela couldn’t decide whether she was indifferent towards them or hated them. It was driving them mad, making her mind run around in circles.
What did they do? What did they do to deserve Gabriela’s ire? Exist?
Their last resort was to put on their suit and go patrol the streets. If nothing pleasant could redirect their attention, then maybe a bit of pain and hard work could. The thought that Gabriela was now walking the streets of their city made their skin itch. Their city. They nearly fumbled the swing of their web, too absorbed in the thoughts whirling around in their head. Rozalia groaned, landing with a roll on the nearest flat roof.
Despite it being May, the weather still occasionally had its hiccups, like a freezing day during an otherwise sunny week. That was that type of day. Rozalia supposed they were all just at the mercy of their Mayor, as always. It wasn’t raining, thank WAN, but the cold wind was starting to get her. She sought out refuge in a dark back alley, only lit by an occasional lamplight flickering a warm yellow. She sat high up on the wall with their knees pulled up to their chest, shadows cloaking their body. She wouldn’t exactly call it cheating, as she was still keeping an eye on an important part of Three Portlands’ underbelly. After all, it was where the entrance to Midwich Valley was. It was, as she had come to know, a hot spot for criminals and all their shady dealings.
Rozalia watched as the bouncer Pushed people inside, or as they were Pushed out from the other side. Most of them came out reeking of substances she couldn’t even begin to imagine, or at the very least, just good old alcohol. Bitter and heavy, undeniably enhanced, but still alcohol.
Her attention was drawn by a woman with brown skin and flaming orange eyes who stumbled outside with a deep scowl, mumbling to herself angrily about ‘stupid European blondes’. She shuffled her feet in an unsteady walk, cursing under her breath. Rozalia tilted her head to the side. A tingle crept down her neck. She could’ve sworn she’d seen her face somewhere, but less as in ‘on campus’ or ‘in a bar’, and more in the way of ‘on a wanted poster’. She stowed that information in her mind for later.
Then, her stomach sank. Another familiar face emerged from the pub, but this one, she knew all too intimately. Gabriela chuckled, nearly tumbling to the ground. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She stayed still for a moment before the bouncer barked at her to keep moving. The blonde left as fast as her wobbly legs would allow, showing the man the middle finger as she moved forward.
It broke Rozalia’s heart to see her like that. See the person she was now, and compare it to the images in her head. At first, a loving headstrong girl, then, a snappy jerk, and now…now, whoever she was. Rozalia didn’t know this person anymore, not really. She supposed that she hadn’t for a few years now.
Yet she couldn’t bear to leave her all alone. Not like this.
She silently stalked the blonde from high up on the wall, until the sounds of the goings-on of Midwich Valley faded to distant echoes. Rozalia gently dropped down to the ground in front of her, hoping to spare her some of the anxiety Gabriela would have if she had landed out of her sight instead.
Gabriela tensed for a split second, her mouth slightly opening in disbelief. She must have been trying to deduce whether it was real or a hallucination induced by something she had taken at the pub. Even in the sparse light, Rozalia could see her face surprisingly well. Dried blood stuck to her swollen nose, cupid’s bow, and lips. Her gaunt cheeks were flushed red. She stank like alcohol, smoke, and cheap sea breeze perfume.
“You’ve already gotten yourself in trouble,” Rozalia said, a little exasperated.
How fitting of Gabriela to not only be so reckless, but to somehow make it Rozalia’s problem as well. She had only just come back, and had already gotten on Rozalia’s nerves. What kind of person got smashed at a strange pub on their first day back in town? Gabriela, apparently.
Her sharp laughter bounced off the walls. Rozalia had to cringe at the volume.
“O cholera, Spider-Man. Ja nie mogę. I-I saw you on Void, you fucking loser. Who the fuck still likes superheroes?” Gabriela tripped as she took a step forward, just barely catching herself on a dark, grimy wall.
“You need to sober up. Are you living with your m— your parents?” she asked.
She shrugged. “Nah. I’m living by myself now. They're back in ol’ Poland.”
“Where are you staying? I’ll take you home.”
She stared back at her blankly, her pupils were wide. They barely showed a sliver of her light blue irides. Rozalia couldn’t help the spike of concern in her chest. She really, really didn’t want to care about Gabriela. But…
“You’re high. On what?” she asked softly, walking up beside her.
Gabriela scoffed, rubbing her eyes. “That’s nunya business. Kurwo jebana.” Her steps faltered as she stopped to reminisce. “Mm, but they have so much good stuff here. I didn’t know half these things existed before I moved back. Been out of the loop…”
Rozalia’s shoulders tensed. “You shouldn’t be taking them, especially if you're unfamiliar with them. You shouldn’t do them at all, but...but if you must, stick to the non-para stuff please,” she sighed.
“You’re neither of my moms, shut up.”
The blonde poked Rozalia square in the chest with her pointer finger to accentuate her words. Rozalia flinched back, but in Gabriela’s inebriated state, it went unnoticed. She pushed herself off the wall and continued to walk – or rather stumble – her way home.
“Anyways. I dunno what a nootropic is, but it sounds fire. I’ll have to look it up.”
She winced. “Please don’t. Just don’t ”
What kinds of people had she already managed to surround herself with? Rozalia was burning up with anxiety every time Gabriela opened her mouth. She clenched her fists and took a deep breath. Caring for Gabriela now was…dangerous. She would only be hurting herself.
She just needed to get her home, and then, she would forget about it.
The dark streets were silent, illuminated only by the dim lamplight. The occasional droplet of rain dropped down from the sky. Not many people were out having fun on a Tuesday night, or at least not in an area like this. Rozalia refused to let the atmosphere unsettle her. She was the protector now, the one who had to stand tall and take it. She has been dealing with costumed weirdos for a few weeks now, and if it came down to it, she could deal with an armed robber or two. Though she really, really hoped it wouldn’t. The last thing they both needed was a reminder of that night.
As minutes went by, Gabriela finally came to an unsteady stop. Rozalia raised her head and squinted to see their destination better. It was a tiny, rundown apartment building. It was an entirely uncreative gray block, the off-white walls covered in grime and old graffiti. It was short, with only two stories— it must have had four units at most. Some sad potted plants sat outside on the window sills on the second floor.
“Home sweet home,” Gabriela murmured, squinting at the front door. Her twitching fingers clenched into fists at her sides.
“Your hands are shaking,” Rozalia noted.
The blonde sniffled and turned her head away. Her greasy strands of hair gently swayed in the chill wind. Rozalia felt something in her heart break once more.
“Are you...crying?”
She shook her head and pressed her hands to her forehead, even if her wet, bloodshot eyes were telling an entirely different story. Her stained shirt rode up to expose her abdomen, and it— it was covered in veiny, black scars, branching out from four points in her stomach. They ran across her skin in sharp, jagged lines. It almost looked like twisted spider appendages, threatening to claw out from under her skin at any moment. Rozalia’s blood ran cold.
“What happened to you?”
Gabriela’s lips pouted, cheeks slightly puffing out. She took a deep breath and stayed silent for a moment.
“I didn’t stay dead when I was s’pposed to.” There was a smirk on her face, but it was so strained that it looked like it hurt.
‘She’s had these this whole time? And she never told me?’ Rozalia thought to herself, miserably staring ahead. Of course. Of course, there would be some scars from that event. Her— her body stayed dead for nearly five days. Maybe some magic had been used to partially slow the decomposition, but she had still been dead. Dead for five days.
How had Gabriela looked when her body of flesh betrayed her? Gave out on her, failed her. Failed her like…Rozalia had? A shiver ran down her spine as images of her hands stained crimson flashed in her mind.
‘Why did I grab her, she would have been fine—’
Gabriela’s nose twitched, a habit that would’ve been cute under any other circumstances (Rozalia had considered it cute in the past. She really had). She turned away, reaching to open the door.
Rozalia pursed her lips. “Just take care of yourself, please.”
Gabriela looked at her from over her shoulders, confusion dancing in her glassy eyes.
“I fucking hate you, you stupid cunt. Why can’t you get it through your thick head?” she said those words with such venom, her hand weakly gripping the door knob.
The two stared at each other for a moment, stuck at an impasse. There was a quiet understanding between them— whoever made the first move would be the loser. And Gabriela had always been too stubborn for her own good. Rozalia slowly shook her head, staring down at the pavement.
“I know you do. I know.”
The door squeaked, then it slammed.
Gabriela was gone. The tears began to sting Rozalia’s eyes at that exact moment. Fuck, it would fog up her lenses. Rozalia whimpered and hit her head with both her hands. It was spinning. She’d had enough. With her webs, she scaled the distance much faster than they had on foot. She landed on a familiar rooftop, just one of many she had taken to treating as an outpost of sorts. A place to wind down and catch her breath during patrol. It was just an office building of some small, boring company, but it had a good view, and the area was calm.
She tugged off the bottom of her mask, breathing in the cool, fresh air. From behind a few old crates, she pulled out a spare bag, inside of which she had left her phone. Rozalia fished it out and selected a number to call.
One beep, two beeps, three beeps.
“Hey, why’re you calling me this late?”
“Milka,” her voice cracked.
“Roz? What’s wrong, are you okay?”
Her sister’s words were rushed, edged with a little bit of panic.
“I’m okay, it’s just… Gabriela’s back in town.”
Silence.
“Oh. Listen, I’m not at home—”
“I know that. I just thought I’d tell you. Um, you can text Mom and Dad too, or something. I’m just tired.”
Her sharp teeth dug into her already sore lips. She wanted to lie down right there and then.
“How about you go to bed? It’s after midnight. We can talk this Sunday. Or maybe earlier, if you want to? I can always make time for you.”
“It’s, um, okay…”
Rozalia rubbed her temples and clicked her tongue. She let the silence hang in the air for a moment.
“By the way, she knows where I live, for some reason. Down to my room number.”
“What!? Did she just waltz up to your door? Please tell me you told campus security.”
She made a strangled noise, the words jumbling themselves up in her brain.
“…You didn’t, did you? Why are you like this?”
Rozalia laughed and covered her mouth.
“Like what!? You’re so rude! I’m never calling your stupid ass again! Bye!”
“Don’t you d—”
With the click of a button, she hung up. Her laughter trailed off into a giggle as she stared at her sister’s happy face in the contact photo.
Her short, light brown hair was tussled, eyes closed as she grinned, holding a puppy with a horn on its forehead. Hah. That was from when Emilia visited her at work for the first time. She had nearly melted at the sight of every animal in need of a home, and Rozalia had to drag her away before she adopted half the critters there. The screen flicked to black.
Maybe it wasn’t all so bad. There were many people who cared about her. People who would – at the very least – smile back at her if she passed by.
Well, not counting all the people who hated Port-Spider, of course. In her mind, it was all separate. Rozalia tried to tune out their posts on Void as best as she could, even if oftentimes they even came from her sister. And she’d thought that Emilia clogging her timeline up with X-Files content was bad enough.
Why should she concern herself with Gabriela? She wasn’t her problem anymore. The city wasn't a metropolis by any means, but it was large enough that they could coexist in relative peace.
Yeah. She would be fine.
As long as Gabriela didn’t do anything stupid.
Fuck.