Chapter 1
There’s one thing I’ve learned from this experience: if a cute boy tells you he’s a fae from another world, do yourself a favor and get out of there like a wild horse stampede is riding on your butt. After my father passed, I prided myself on my rationality, convincing myself that there were no such things as fairies, giants, dwarves, elves, or even magic. I remember the nights he would sit by my bed, spinning tales of enchanted forests and mischievous sprites. “Always keep your heart open to wonder,” he’d say, his eyes twinkling with mischief. But now, those stories felt like distant echoes.
I jolted awake from another nightmare to the blaring sound of my alarm clock. I had fallen asleep in my clothes from the night before, my laptop resting on my stomach, the screen displaying an Amazon prompt asking if I wanted to watch Ready Player One. Glancing over at the clock, I felt a wave of horror wash over me when I saw it was already 11:00. I snatched my phone from the nightstand and jumped up, quickly texting my mom, “Why didn’t you wake me?” Her reply came almost instantly: “Hey, it’s not my fault you decided to binge-watch Frankenstein, The Bride of Frankenstein, and The Wolf Man! Besides, I tried to wake you,"
I shook my head in disbelief as I walked into the hall. Uncle Toby came out of his room, his blonde hair a mess, wearing nothing but a white leotard and underwear.
"Hannah, what're you-?" he began.
"Toby, I overslept!" I said. "Can you please take me to school on your way to work?"
"I suppose so," replied Uncle Toby with a yawn. "I let your mom take Jax to school, so we don't have to worry about him. I guess I could do it, but we have to take the train. Simba, Ziggy, Hog, and Merlin Junior also have to go to the petsitter's house, but I can call her on the way to tell her we'll be a few minutes late,"
"Thank you," I said.
With that, I brushed my teeth, put on fresh clothes, and combed my light brown hair. I ate a peanut butter and jelly Uncrustable and headed into Toby’s blue Subaru. Toby came out a split second later, his hair slicked back, and he was now wearing a blue shirt, beige pants, socks, and shoes. All of the pets were tied to leashes that Toby held in his left hand. I buckled up. After making sure all of the pets were in the backseat, we drove off.
The train station was big, with red brick walls, and glass windows. People were either getting tickets or waiting for their trains to arrive. I sat down on an empty green bench.
“Aren’t you coming with us?” asked Uncle Toby.
“Nah,” I said. “You go and get the tickets. I’m gonna sit here and study my lines for drama club,”
“Ok,” he said. “Remember what we practiced,”
As soon as he was out of sight, I put my pink backpack on the ground in front of my legs, opened it, and pulled out the script. Our school was putting on a production of The Fairy Princess in the winter, and I wanted to audition for the titular character. The story itself is great, but what makes this story so unique is the fact that no one knows who wrote it. Scholars note how the story sounds like something Shakespeare would write. All they know is that someone published it anonymously in the year 1586 and it was an instant commercial and critical success.
“Oh, how could I love thee?” I read quietly to myself. “Father taught me that you beith my enemy,”
I read a few more lines before putting the script on my lap. My pondering of how to deliver them was interrupted by a chirp. I turned to my right, and imagine my surprise when I saw a barn owl standing on the empty spot next to me. Based on its light gold and brown feathers and the absence of spots on its neck, I assumed the owl was male. He chirped again.
“Hello, Mr. Owl,” I said. “How are you today?”
His eyes turned from me to my script. He tilted his head slightly and gave another chirp.
“Oh, this?” I said.
I looked around to make sure that no one was watching. Can’t have anyone thinking I’m crazier than I already am, I thought. I turned back to my feathered friend.
“It’s about a fairy princess who falls in love with a servant,” I explained.
A realization dawned upon me.
“I guess the servant and I are alike,” I continued. “I’m American, not British, you see. The king in my story forces himself, his family, their servants, and their subjects to move because there’s a war going on between them and the giants who conquer their land. The princess’s lover is the only one to protest against it, but it isn’t his choice to make. My mother and I immigrated here because her half-brother, Toby’s, wife left him and my little cousin for some guy from Guatemala she met online.
"Here I am: Like the servant, I’m a foreigner in a strange land. You are, too, in a way, because I don’t think owls usually hang out in train stations. The children at school aren't much help. Like the servant, they bully me because of my heritage. My father hadn’t been buried for a week before my mom told me we were moving. I didn’t even get a proper chance to say goodbye to him. Why did she want us to come here? I’m sure there could have been other ways for us to comfort them,”
When I had finished, the owl brushed his head against my arm. There was a stabbing pain in my heart.
“Aw, the unconditional love of animals,” I said. “Either that, or you don’t know what I’m talking about,”
The owl chirped again.
“You know, the villain in my story can shape-shift into a barn owl,” I said.
The owl looked up at me and cocked his head once more.
“But there’s nothing scary or evil about you,” I said in a baby voice as I traced the outline of his facial disk with my finger. “No, no, no. You are just a sweet little thing,”
Uncle Toby came back with the pets. We had three dogs- a brown border collie, Hog- a white English sheepdog, Merlin Jr. - and a golden retriever, bulldog mix, Ziggy- and an orange tabby cat, Simba. All four of them also had collars. I smiled and waved at them.
“Alright,” said Uncle Toby. “I have the tickets. Ready to go, Hannah?”
“Almost,” I replied. “I’d like you to meet a new friend named Mr. Owl,”
Uncle Toby looked down and froze. Hog’s blue eyes met with the owl’s. Ziggy whimpered and took two steps back. Simba sniffed the air and looked at the owl for a second before he began to hiss. Hog started barking, prompting the owl to shriek and spread his wings. To my shock, Toby put the tickets in his pocket and unhooked Simba’s leash, which resulted in the cat running and jumping on the bench. The barn owl was quick, however. At that moment, he flew towards the ceiling and up the staircase to the right. Several people whispered and giggled at the sight of this.
“What is the matter with you?” I asked Simba.
I turned to Uncle Toby.
"It must be a part of the animal kingdom," Uncle Toby said quickly.
"The animal kingdom?" I said.
"Yes, now let's go," said Uncle Toby.
My high school was a sprawling building made of red bricks, featuring double doors at the entrance. I sprinted toward my locker, desperate to grab my books for third period before the bell rang. The air buzzed with chatter and laughter, a cacophony that felt both familiar and alien. Dang it, I thought, as students began to flood the hallways, spilling out of their classrooms like a tide. I maneuvered through the crowd, my heart racing, only to discover a piece of paper taped to my locker.
In pencil, someone had scrawled the words, “Stupid Yankee!” My stomach dropped. I knew immediately who did it. Penny Habsburg. I turned around just in time to see her in a pink sweater, jeans, and shoes that sparkled like her overinflated ego. She stood with her friends, their laughter ringing in my ears like a mocking chorus.
“Very funny,” I said, sarcasm dripping from my voice, but my heart raced with a mix of anger and embarrassment.
Penny smirked, her eyes glinting with satisfaction. “What’s the matter, Hannah? Can’t take a joke?” Her friends giggled, and I felt the heat rise in my cheeks.
I glanced around, hoping to find a friendly face in the crowd, but everyone seemed too engrossed in their conversations. The hallway felt like a gauntlet, and I was the target.
“Just ignore her,” I muttered to myself, but the words felt hollow. I ripped the paper off my locker, crumpling it in my fist.
“Why don’t you go back to where you came from?” Penny called after me, her voice dripping with faux sweetness.
I clenched my jaw, fighting the urge to retort. Instead, I took a deep breath, reminding myself of my father’s words: “Always keep your heart open to wonder.” All I felt was the weight of isolation pressing down on me. Tears welled up in my eyes. I couldn't even see the people ahead of me.
I wish I had wiped those tears away because he slammed right into me, knocking me and my books to the floor. I sat for a moment, trying to comprehend what had just happened. That was when I felt a hand grab my wrist. I tried to pull my hand away, but the other person's grip became tighter until he knelt to face me. The kid who ran into me was tall, with blue eyes and brown hair, his features striking in a way that made my heart race. I had seen him before, and I must admit that I had a crush on him. Something rushed into my veins. I assumed it was my nerves. It was the same reaction I experienced after touching the barn owl.
"Are you alright?" he asked.
I blinked, momentarily lost in the depths of his blue eyes, which seemed to shimmer with an otherworldly light.
“I—uh, yeah, I’m fine,” I stammered, my cheeks flushing as I scrambled to gather my scattered books.
He released my wrist, but not before I felt a strange warmth linger where his fingers had touched my skin. “I apologize for that. I wasn’t paying attention,” he said, his expression earnest.
“It’s fine,” I replied, forcing a smile despite the embarrassment creeping in. “I should have been watching where I was going,”
He chuckled softly, a sound that felt like a gentle breeze on a warm day. “I guess we both have our moments, huh?” His smile was disarming, and for a fleeting second, I forgot about Penny and her cruel laughter. He helped me collect my books.
“Yeah, I guess so,” I said, my heart racing for reasons I couldn’t quite understand. There was something about him that felt different, something that made the air around us shimmer with possibility.
Just then, the bell rang, jolting me back to reality. I scrambled to my feet, clutching my books to my chest.
“I have to go,” I said, glancing at the crowd that was beginning to disperse.
“Wait!” he called after me, and I turned back, surprised by the urgency in his voice. “Maybe I could take you out sometime,"
I hesitated, caught off guard by the invitation. “Sure,” I replied, my voice barely above a whisper. “I mean, if it doesn't inconvenience you,”
"What's your name?" he asked.
"Hannah," I replied. "Hannah Gonzalez. What's yours?"
"Ronan Delacroix," he said.
"Nice to meet you," I said.
He smiled again, and at that moment, I felt a flicker of hope amidst the weight of my isolation. He turned and disappeared into the throng of students.
As I walked away, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this encounter was more than just a coincidence. The warmth of his touch lingered on my wrist, and I found myself glancing back, half-expecting to see him standing there, watching me. But he was gone, leaving behind only the echo of his laughter and a sense of wonder that I hadn’t felt in a long time.
I stood nervously in line, waiting my turn to audition, script in hand. The air was thick with anticipation, a palpable energy that buzzed around me like the hum of a thousand bees. My heart raced, each beat echoing in my ears, drowning out the chatter of hopefuls around me. I glanced at the other auditionees, their faces a mix of confidence and anxiety. Some practiced their lines in hushed tones, while others fidgeted with their hair or adjusted their costumes. A girl in a vibrant red dress twirled a strand of her hair, her eyes darting toward the audition room as if willing the door to open.
I took a deep breath, trying to steady my trembling hands. The script felt heavy, a weight of expectation pressing down on me. What if I forgot my lines? What if I stumbled over my words? My father’s voice echoed in my mind, urging me to embrace the moment, to let my heart guide me.
“Next!” the director and drama teacher, Mr. Cummings, shouted.
I felt a jolt of panic. My stomach twisted as I realized I was closer than I had anticipated. I could see the audition room door, slightly ajar, revealing a glimpse of the panel seated inside—judges with pens poised, ready to critique every move I made. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, my mind racing. What if they don’t see me? What if they only see my nerves? I closed my eyes for a brief moment, envisioning the character I was about to portray—the fairy princess, brave and full of life. I imagined her stepping into the light, her heart open to love and adventure, and I willed myself to channel that spirit.
The line moved forward, and I felt the weight of the script in my hand, a reminder of the journey I was about to embark on. I could almost hear my father’s laughter, and feel his presence beside me, urging me to leap. As I stepped closer to the door, I whispered to myself, “I can do this. I must do this,” With one last deep breath, I straightened my posture, ready to embrace the moment, ready to let my heart lead the way.
Mr. Cummings called my name, prompting me to take center stage. He was a tall man, with white hair, glasses, and a yellow shirt. He sat at a table in front of me.
"Ready when you are," said Mr. Cummings.
I gulped and recited:
O, cruel fate! What tempest doth my heart endure?
My mind, a fortress built on reason’s stone,
Doth whisper low, “He is the enemy,
A foe to all that I hold dear and true,”
Yet here, within this breast, a fire burns bright,
A flame ignited by thine eyes’ soft glow,
That bids me cast aside my wary thoughts,
And heed the call of love’s sweet, tender song.
Oh, how I love thee! Father taught me you beith my enemy,
And I, a princess bound by duty’s chain,
To one who wears a crown of noble pride,
Yet finds no warmth within my heart’s embrace.
What folly is this, to love what I should shun?
To feel the pull of passion’s fierce embrace,
When every breath I take doth echo war,
And every glance recalls the bitter strife?
Yet, lo! My heart, that traitor to my mind,
Doth leap and dance at but the thought of thee,
As if the stars themselves conspired to weave
A tapestry of fate that binds us close.
What is this war, if love be deemed the foe?
Shall I deny the truth that stirs within?
Nay, I shall not! For love, though fraught with peril,
Is worth the risk, the pain, the bitter cost.
My heart, a compass true, doth point to thee,
And in this tangled web of fate and fear,
I find my strength, my courage to defy
The chains of duty that would bind my soul.
Thus, I declare, with heart and mind at war:
Though thou art deemed the enemy by fate,
My heart, unyielding, whispers soft and clear,
“I must, I must, I must love thee evermore.”
"Good," said Mr. Cummings as he wrote something down on his clipboard. "Ronan Delacroix, you're up!"
I walked away, and upon seeing Ronan, said, "Good luck,"
I continued to walk past people and sat down on a bench beside a bunch of other girls. The line seemed to stretch on from there to London. I could hear Ronan's voice as he said:
O, fair princess, thou dost weave a tapestry of words so sweet,
Yet know this truth, my heart doth beat in time with thine,
For love, though fraught with peril, is a flame that cannot be snuffed.
Thy father’s crown may cast a shadow o’er our hearts,
But I shall not cower in the darkness of duty’s chains.
What is a crown, if it binds the spirit and silences the soul?
I am but a humble servant, yet my love for thee is a treasure,
More precious than gold, more enduring than the stars above.
I see thee, not as a princess cloaked in royal garb,
But as a woman, fierce and brave, with dreams that soar
like the lark.
Thy heart, a wildflower blooming in a field of thorns,
Deserves to dance in the sunlight, to be free from the weight of
expectation.
Let us cast aside the chains of this cruel fate,
And forge a path where love reigns supreme,
Where we can write our own story, unbound by the past.
(Now, this is where the monologue ends, but Ronan didn't stop there. I continued to sit there, enamored by his acting).
For what is love, if not a rebellion against the world?
A defiance of the stars that conspire to keep us apart?
I would face a thousand giants, brave the fiercest storms,
If it means I can hold thee close, to whisper sweet nothings
In the quiet of the night, where only the moon bears witness
To our hearts entwined, beating as one.
So, I beseech thee, my beloved, let us not be mere pawns
In a game played by those who know not the depth of our hearts.
Let us seize this moment, this fleeting breath of time,
And declare our love, not as enemies of the crown,
But as two souls destined to intertwine,
In a dance as old as time itself.
As the audition line began to disperse, I felt a mix of relief and anxiety. I had done my best, but the weight of uncertainty still hung in the air. Just then, I spotted Ronan across the room, his blue eyes searching for mine. He caught my gaze and smiled, a warm, inviting expression that made my heart flutter. With a confident stride, he approached me, his presence radiating a sense of ease that calmed my racing thoughts.
“Hey, Hannah,” he said, his voice smooth and friendly. “You were great back there. I could feel the emotion in your lines,”
“Thanks,” I replied, my cheeks warming at the compliment. “I was really nervous,”
“Totally understandable,” he said, leaning against the bench beside me. “Auditions can be intense. But you handled it like a pro,”
I smiled, feeling a spark of connection. “I appreciate that,”
After a moment of comfortable silence, Ronan glanced toward the cafeteria. “So, um, I was wondering… would you like to sit with me at lunch? I mean, if you don’t have other plans or anything,”
My heart raced at the invitation. It felt like a small but significant step, a chance to break free from the isolation I often felt at school.
“I’d like that,” I said, my voice steady despite the butterflies in my stomach.
“Alright! I’ll meet you at the cafeteria then,” he said, flashing my a grin that made my pulse quicken.
As he walked away, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of excitement bubbling within me. This was a new beginning, a chance to forge connections and embrace the magic of possibility. With a smile on my face, I gathered my things and headed toward my next class, my heart lighter than it had been in a long time.
As the bell finally rang to signal the end of science class, I eagerly gathered my books and stuffed them into my locker. I grabbed my lunchbox and dashed toward the cafeteria, my heart racing with anticipation. The aroma of pizza and fries wafted through the air, mingling with the laughter and chatter of my classmates. Others had apparently started a food fight earlier because there were still some stains on the yellow wall. I could hear the clatter of trays and the rustle of bags as students settled in for their meals.
As I scanned the crowded room, a familiar knot of anxiety twisted in my stomach. Would I find a place to sit? Would Ronan be there? The thought of sitting with him sent a thrill through me, but the fear of rejection lingered at the edges of my mind. I spotted Ronan at a table by himself. My heart skipped a beat at the thought of joining him, and I took a deep breath, steeling myself for what could be a pivotal moment in my day. I sat next to him.
“Hi, Hannah,” he said.
I loved the way he said my name.
"Hi," I stammered.
I felt a rush of warmth flood my cheeks, and I hoped he couldn’t see how flustered I was. Was I really about to go out with someone like him? I took a deep breath, reminding myself of my father’s words about keeping my heart open to wonder while also guarding it. Maybe this was my chance to embrace the unknown. Little did I know, this simple exchange would lead me down a path filled with unexpected twists, where the line between reality and magic would blur in ways I could never have imagined.
The chatter of students around us faded into a distant hum, and the faint smell of popcorn from the nearby snack stand wafted through the air, grounding me in the moment. I felt a wave of nervousness wash over me, so I reached into my backpack, pulled out the script, and squeezed it tightly in my hands, as if its familiar weight could ground me in this moment.
"You're beautiful," said Ronan.
"Thank you," I replied.
"You did really well at the audition," he commented.
"Thanks," I said, tucking a stray hair behind my ear. "I was really anxious that I might mess up or something like that,"
"Nervous?" he teased, a playful grin on his face. "You? I can’t believe it! You seem so confident on stage,”
"Only when I'm pretending to be someone else," I said.
"Such is the way of the world," said Ronan. "Such a pity. We often find ourselves caught in the torrents of fate, don't we?"
I nodded, feeling the weight of his words settle in my chest.
“We do,” I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.
There was a moment of silence. Neither knew what else to say. Then a thought came into my head. I had done it four times before, and I wanted to do it with someone I loved. Each time had been a bittersweet memory etched in my heart, but this time felt different. The thought of sharing that experience with Ronan sent a thrill through me. It was a leap of faith, but perhaps it was time to embrace the unknown. I opened my mouth, but Ronan interjected with, "I'm reading your mind, Hannah. I'll go,"
The school buzzed with the usual chatter of students rushing to their classes, the bell ringing in the distance like a warning. But instead of feeling anxious, a wicked thrill coursed through me. The thought of skipping class sent a rush of excitement through my veins. I looked at Ronan, my heart racing with the thrill of rebellion. Truth be told, I hadn’t always been a good girl. After the move, I wanted to give my mother a reason to send us back to the United States, so I began to lash out at everyone—except for Toby and Jaxon. I had pushed boundaries, testing limits, and now, standing on the brink of another adventure, I felt alive in a way I hadn’t in a long time.
"Are you ready for this?" I asked.
"Let’s do it,” he said, squeezing my hand. “No more sitting in class when there’s a whole world out there waiting for us,"
We headed toward the crowded parking lot. We stopped walking when we reached a black Rolls-Royce Boat Tail. I blinked twice out of disbelief that this was (presumably) Ronan's car. I got into the front passenger's side.
"Where exactly are we going?" I asked.
Ronan climbed into the driver's side and put the key in the ignition.
"Someplace my ex and I used to go to," he replied over the roar of the engine.
The car lurched forward, and I instinctively grabbed the “oh crap” handle above the door. As we approached the first turn, I realized Ronan was treating the steering wheel like a suggestion rather than a command. We veered left, then right, like a pinball bouncing around a machine. I half-expected to see a “Game Over” sign flash in front of us. I could feel my palms sweating as we rocked back and forth, and I silently prayed we wouldn’t end up in a collision course with the nearest lamppost. It also didn’t help that the radio was blaring, drowning out my thoughts with a pop song that felt far too cheerful for the chaos unfolding around us. I honestly felt like vomiting.
“Ronan!” I shouted over the music, my voice tinged with panic. “Maybe we should turn down the volume and focus on the road instead?”
He shot me a grin, completely unfazed, and replied, “What’s the fun in that? This is how you make memories!”
I couldn’t tell if he was joking or if he genuinely believed we were on some kind of wild adventure, but as we careened around another corner, I was starting to think that my memory of this ride might just be a traumatic one. Little did I know that this was only the beginning.
We stopped at the edge of a lush green forest, the trees looming like ancient sentinels, their branches swaying gently in the breeze. The sudden stillness felt surreal after the chaotic ride, and I took a moment to catch my breath, the scent of damp earth and pine filling my lungs. The car’s engine hummed softly, a stark contrast to the adrenaline still coursing through my veins. Ronan hopped out, walked around to my side, and opened the door for me with a flourish. I took his hand, feeling a mix of warmth and uncertainty, and joined him on the other side.
After making sure the pepper spray was still tucked securely in my right pocket—just in case—I steeled myself for our trek into the forest. Oddly enough, although I was certain I had a crush on Ronan, a small voice in the back of my mind whispered that I should run. Maybe it was the thrill of the unknown or the remnants of my fear from the car ride, but I didn’t act on it. He had been so kind to me, and there was something about his adventurous spirit that drew me in, even as my instincts urged caution.
We stopped at the edge of a clearing, the sunlight pouring down like liquid gold, illuminating the vibrant wildflowers that danced in the gentle breeze. A few woodland creatures scurried up the trees, their soft rustling adding a whimsical soundtrack to the serene setting. Ronan walked a little farther out into the clearing, his silhouette framed by the sunlight, and took a deep breath, as if he were savoring the fresh, earthy scent of the forest. He turned to me, a wide grin spreading across his face, and gestured for me to join him. I hesitated for a moment, taking in the beauty around us. The warmth of the sun on my skin felt comforting, and the worries that had clung to me began to dissipate like morning mist. As I stepped into the clearing, the soft grass cushioned my feet, grounding me in the moment.
“Isn’t it amazing?” Ronan said, his voice filled with awe as he looked around. I caught his eye, and for a brief second, the world around us faded away. There was something in his expression—an invitation to embrace the adventure, to let go of my fears.
“Yeah, it really is,” I replied, my heart racing not just from the beauty of the scene but from the connection I felt with him.
Ronan walked a little ahead of me and laid down on the ground. I joined him. A couple of birds flew in the sky above us.
"What do you think?" Ronan asked.
"What do I think?" I said. "I think it's beautiful. I'm feeling a little bit nostalgic. My dad once took me out to the woods of our old house after we watched The Muppet Movie,"
"The Muppet Movie?" said Ronan.
"Yeah, you know, the one where they sing "The Rainbow Connection"?"
Ronan gave me a confused look and shook his head.
"Why are there so many songs about rainbows?" I sang. "And what's on the other side?"
I stopped.
"Go on," Ronan pleaded. "Something might jog my memory if you sing a little bit more,"
"Ok," I replied.
There was a moment of silence before I continued: "Rainbows are visions, but only illusions, and rainbows have nothing to hide. So we've been told and some choose to believe it. I know they're wrong. Wait and see. 'Cause someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection, the lovers, the dreamers, and me,"
As I finished singing, a warm flush crept up my cheeks at Ronan’s compliment. “You have a good singing voice, Hannah,” he said, his blue eyes sparkling with sincerity.
“Thanks,” I replied, my voice slightly shaky. “I appreciate the compliment,”
“Ever considered a career as a musician?” he asked, his tone light but curious.
“Yes, but my mom wouldn’t let me,” I replied, a hint of frustration creeping into my voice.
“And why not?” he probed, tilting his head slightly, his blue eyes searching mine.
“I don’t know,” I said, my heart racing as I felt a mix of emotions swirling inside me. Was it really just about her concerns for my future, or was there something deeper? I hesitated, trying to piece together my thoughts. “I guess she thinks it’s too risky... or maybe she just wants me to focus on more practical things,”
As I spoke, I could feel the weight of my mother’s expectations pressing down on me, and a wave of confusion washed over me. Did I even want to pursue music? Or was it just a dream I clung to because it reminded me of my father? Ronan’s expression shifted, and I wondered if he could sense the turmoil beneath my words. Was he disappointed? I quickly glanced away, feeling a flush of embarrassment creep up my cheeks.
Ronan nodded, his expression thoughtful. “That makes sense. Parents can be protective, especially when it comes to dreams,”
“Yeah,” I said, biting my lip. “My mom has always been overprotective of me, which makes sense, as I am an only child. But sometimes, it feels like she’s holding me back from really living my life,”
Ronan raised an eyebrow, encouraging me to continue. “What do you mean?”
I took a deep breath, feeling a mix of frustration and yearning bubbling up inside me. “I just… I want the freedom to explore my passions, to make my own choices without constantly worrying about what she thinks. It’s like I’m stuck in this bubble, and I can see the world outside, but I can’t quite reach it. Penny makes everything worse. I know it sounds horrible, but I sometimes wish that-,"
I met Ronan's concerned eyes.
“I love singing, and I want to chase that dream, but every time I think about it, I hear her voice in my head telling me to be practical," I said.
Ronan nodded, his expression understanding.
“That sounds tough," he said. "It’s hard when you feel like you have to choose between your dreams and your family’s expectations,”
“Exactly!” I exclaimed, feeling a surge of relief at being understood. “I want to be brave enough to step out of her shadow and find my own path. I want to feel the wind in my hair and know that I’m making choices for myself, not just living up to someone else’s idea of who I should be,”
“That reminds me,” Ronan said. “I have something I want to show you. Get up and follow me,”
I obeyed without hesitation. Ronan guided me through countless miles of forest. I lost count of how many times I stumbled, but I remember that Ronan was always there to help me up, even when I insisted I could manage on my own. He finally stopped at the edge of a grassy cliffside. I barely had time to react before he leaped off. I rushed to the edge and peered over, shouting, “Ronan! Ronan!”
Just then, Ronan floated back up. I stood there, my mouth hanging open as I realized he had it, too. He gestured for me to take him by the hand. I was scared, but did it anyway. Ronan held me tightly as we drifted towards the sky.
"How-?" I said.
"I knew it," said Ronan.
We floated back down to the cliffside. Ronan let go and said, "I knew you had fae blood in you,"
"The what?" I said.
"Hannah, has anything supernatural happened when you felt angry, sad, or frightened?" he asked.
“Yes,” I replied. “There was this one time when my parents and I went to the beach. I was three years old and ventured out a little too far. I got scared, and suddenly, the waves parted, leaving me standing on dry land like the Israelites in the book of Exodus. My mom came out and grabbed me. That’s just one of the many strange experiences I’ve had in my life,”
"I know why," Ronan said. "You are partly fae,"
I stared at him, dumbfounded. Ronan’s explanation sounded crazy, and yet, it made sense. The way he spoke, with such conviction and passion, drew me in, making the impossible seem almost tangible. My mind raced as I tried to process what he was saying. Could it be true? The idea that I had fairy blood coursing through my veins felt both exhilarating and terrifying. I thought back to the strange occurrences in my life—the way the waves had parted that day at the beach, the inexplicable moments when I felt a surge of energy or emotion that seemed to affect the world around me. Ronan put his hair behind his ears. I could see that his ears were pointed.
"I'm a full-blood fae," he said.
The weight of his admission hung in the air between us, and I felt a mix of disbelief and curiosity. “What does that even mean?” I asked, my voice trembling slightly. “What does it mean to be a fae?”
Ronan took a deep breath, as if gathering his thoughts. “It means I come from a long line of magical beings, connected to the natural world in ways most humans can’t even begin to understand. We have abilities that allow us to manipulate elements, communicate with nature, and even influence emotions. But it also means we have responsibilities—guardianship over the balance of magic in our realm,”
I leaned in closer, captivated by his words. “So, you can do magic? Like, real magic?”
He nodded, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “Yes, but it’s not just about casting spells. It’s about understanding the world around us, feeling its rhythms, and knowing how to work with them. It’s a part of who I am, just as your potential is a part of you,”
As he spoke, his gaze held mine. Something in him made my heart flutter. The air was thick with unspoken words, and for a moment, the world around us faded away.
A rush of excitement coursed through me, mingling with the fear that still lingered. “And you think I have that potential too? That I could—what? Become like you?”
“Absolutely,” he replied, his eyes shining with encouragement. “But it won’t be easy. Embracing your true self means facing challenges and discovering parts of you that you might not even know exist. It’s a journey, and I want to help you navigate it,"
As he spoke, his gaze held mine, which made my heart flutter. I could feel the energy between us, a gentle pull that seemed to resonate with the very essence of the earth beneath our feet. The air was thick with unspoken words, and for a moment, the world around us faded away. He held me again. We turned our heads slightly, but the moment was interrupted by my phone vibrating in my pocket.
I groaned and took it out. Mom was calling me. Great, I thought sarcastically.
“Excuse me,” I said to Ronan as I walked away.
I decided to answer her, hoping that she was calling for another reason. I didn’t even get a “Hello?” in as Mom screamed, “Young lady, why did the school call me?”
“I don’t know,” I lied. “Mom, can we please just talk about this later?”
“No,” Mom said. “First, Hannah, you ditched school. Second, I know you lied to me. Jaxon showed me how to track your phone. I can see your location. I’m coming,”
She hung up. I ran back to Ronan, and told him what my mom had spoke. We went back to the parking lot just as Mom pulled up in her black convertible. She got out, and we stood face-to-face, her hands on her hips. Her black hair was straightened, and she wore a red shirt, black pants, socks, and shoes.
“You’re suspended from school, little lady,” Mom said. Turning to Ronan, she added, “And who is this?”
“Mom, this is Ronan,” I said.
“Sarah Williams,” said Ronan. “Hannah, you never told me your mother is the Sarah Williams,”
For context, Mom was an actress before she decided to retire after she married my dad. I figured this was how Ronan remembered her name.
“It’s Sarah Gonzalez now,” Mom retorted.
I climbed into the passenger’s seat of her car. Seeing this, Mom got back into the driver’s side and we drove off. Neither said anything until we were outside Dr. Clarke's office. Mom put her head on the steering wheel. I looked at her in anger and embarrassment.
“Mom, how could you embarrass me in front of-?” I began.
“Hannah, you are forbidden from seeing that boy ever again,” said Mom.
“What?” I said. “Why? Ronan’s a nice guy,”
“I don’t trust him,” was Mom’s reply.
I exclaimed, “Ugh!”, got out, and went inside the doctor's office.
Earlier that day, Simba, Hog, Ziggy, and Merlin Jr. stood before the building, which loomed over them like a towering ruler. It was white, with several stories, and a green sign outside that read, “Ink and Quill Publishing” in black letters. It had taken them almost an hour to get to Birmingham from Coventry on foot. A tiny vial of blue liquid penetrated from Hog’s teeth. He tilt his head back and took a sip of it before passing the vial to Ziggy.
Numerous people passed by them. Some gave them pats on the heads, while others spat on their fur. Hog didn’t mind; before he met Sarah and Toby, he had been used to being abused. Ziggy and Simba were the same way, too, but to a certain extant. They exchanged knowing glances, their eyes flickering with an understanding that hinted at a shared secret, one that lay just beneath the surface of their seemingly innocent appearances.
Their disguises were those of some workers at the publishing company, who for some reason had not come into work today. As they stood there, the reality of their transformation settled in, and they realized they would have to navigate the day as these unfamiliar characters. Merlin Jr. looked at Hog as if to ask, Are you sure about this? Hog nodded, careful not to spill any of the vial’s contents. The three of them watched in awe as Hog’s brown fur vanished, replaced by human skin, black hair, and the sharp lines of a suit, tie, pants, and shoes. Ziggy hesitated a moment before he drank from the vial, and the same thing happened to him except he had brown eyes and hair. Simba followed not long after, but instead of transforming into a man, he transformed into an old woman with graying hair and blue eyes.
“Do you think this’ll work, Sir Hoggle?” he asked.
“It will, Didymus,” replied Hoggle. “It has to. I am positive that the barn owl we saw was Jareth and now he is stalking Hannah. We must warn Sarah,”
Disguise,” said Ludo. “Why?”
“Because Ludo, everyone will scream and fuss if they saw us in our true forms,” answered Hoggle.
Didymus turned to Merlin Jr, who now held the vial in his mouth. “Don’t be scared, Ambrosius,” he said. “It will only be temporary,”
Merlin Jr.—or Ambrosius, as that was his real name—shifted his head to one side. Hoggle, Didymus, and Ludo turned to see what had caught his attention, and to their shock and horror, they spotted a barn owl glaring at them. Didymus curled his fingers and began barking and snarling until the owl finally took flight. A couple of passersby stared at him as if he had lost his mind. Didymus didn’t care as long as he was protecting his best friend.
Turning back to Ambrosius, Hoggle said, “Go on, drink up,”
Ambrosius did as he was told. A moment later, a man with black hair and green eyes stood where he once in his place.
“Alright,” Hoggle whispered. “It seems like we can’t just go in and tell her. We have to do it in secret, preferable away from any windows so that he doesn’t see,”
“Do you think he saw us shapeshift?” Didymus asked.
“I don’t know, my friend,” Hoggle said with a shrug. “Also, why are you disguised as a woman?”
“In my defense,” Didymus began, straightening his posture with a hint of pride, “I thought it would be a clever ruse! Who would suspect an old woman of causing trouble? Besides, I make a rather fetching lady, don’t you think?”
Hoggle raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “Fetching? More like a scarecrow in a dress! But I admire your creativity, Didymus,”
Ludo tilted his head, genuinely curious, and said, "Why not knight?"
“Ah, but Ludo,” Didymus replied, gesturing with a flourish, “no one would suspect me,"
Hoggle chuckled, shaking his head.
Turning back to Hoggle, he added, “And as for you, Sir Hoggle, with your hair, you look like Harry Potter,”
Hoggle crossed his arms, a smirk creeping onto his face.
“Better than looking like a confused old lady, Didymus," he retorted. "At least I can blend in with the crowd. Alright, enough of this. We need to focus. We have a mission ahead of us, and we must warn Sarah before Jareth makes his move. And Didymus, try not to trip over your own dress,”
They walked in through the revolving door that led to the lobby. The walls were painted brown and the floors were a faded white. A brown couch and chairs stood off in the center next to an unlit fireplace. Seeing that no one was around to ask questions, they checked the map on the wall next to the elevator and scanned it until they saw that the copy room was right next to the restroom on the tenth floor.
They followed the directions, their footsteps echoing softly in the dimly lit hallway, the flickering fluorescent lights casting eerie shadows on the walls. The air was thick with anticipation as they pressed on, their hearts racing with each step. Finally, they reached their destination and pushed open the door. Sunlight poured in through a tiny window, illuminating the dust motes that danced in the air like tiny fairies. The room was a chaotic blend of creativity and clutter, filled with mismatched desks strewn with papers, pens, and half-finished projects. In one corner, the white printer hummed quietly. As they noticed the paper stacked neatly in the tray, a wave of excitement surged through them. The four of them eagerly rushed toward it, their eyes wide with hope and determination. They could hardly believe their luck; this was the opportunity they had been searching for. They looked at each other excitedly.
"Yes!" said Hoggle. "This is perfect,"
"Perfect," Ludo repeated.
Turning to Didymus, Hoggle asked, "What do we do?"
"Easy," replied Didymus. "Do you have a picture of Jareth?"
"Right here,"
With that, Hoggle pulled out a small sheet of paper. Didymus, Ludo, and Ambrosius leaned in to get a closer look. The picture was dated to the mid-seventies, and each got cold chills when they saw Jareth smiling back at them, his head resting on his arm.
"You know, he's pleasant when he wants to be," said Hoggle.
"And handsome when he wants to be," Didymus commented. "But most of the time, he's ugly. -Well, put it in the printer and we are good to go,"
They turned heads when they heard the door creak. In stepped an old man with blonde hair, blue eyes, a blue tuxedo, matching pants, and shoes. Neither of them said anything for a matter. Didymus's knees started shaking in fright. We're dead, he thought.
"Hello," the man said as he walked past them to the printer. "Are you using this?"
"N-no, Your Majesty," said Hoggle. He backed away.
The man squinted his eyes.
"What did you call me?" he asked.
"Nothing," replied Ludo.
Didymus went into the corner and motioned for the others to join him. When they did, they bent down and put their heads together.
"Jareth come for us!" Ludo whispered. "Ludo scared,"
"How is it possible?" said Hoggle. "He can't transform into a human! Only an owl,"
"Speaking of, Hoggle," said Didymus, "I remember you told us that you got that now empty vial from Jareth. If he can shape-shift, then why would he need it?"
"Maybe in case he got old and couldn't recall how to?" Hoggle said. "I honestly don't know. That's only a possibility,"
"We're dead in any case," said Didymus.
"No, we ain't," said Hoggle. "He probably doesn't even know it's us. Just stay calm and do whatever he tells you,"
With that, they returned to the man, who was now watching something print. Ambrosius looked like he was about to weep.
"Oh, and by the way, " the man said, "after this, we all need to go to our meeting. Sarah is going to be the one running it today,"
"Sarah?" said Ambrosius. "Sarah Gonzalez?"
"Yes," the man answered.
“She’s been doing a fantastic job lately, hasn’t she?” The man continued. "I’m sure she’ll have some great ideas for the upcoming project,”
Didymus walked back to the corner, and crouched low once again. He exchanged panicked glances with Hoggle, Ambrosius, and Ludo as they joined him.
“What do we do now?” he whispered urgently, his voice barely above a breath.
“We need to find a way to get out of here without drawing attention," Hoggle said, his mind racing. "If he thinks we’re part of the team, we might be able to slip away,”
“Ludo not want to be caught," Ludo said, his eyes wide with fear. "Ludo want to go home,”
“Me too,” Didymus whispered, his knees still trembling. “But we can’t leave without warning Sarah about Jareth,”
The man turned slightly, catching a glimpse of their anxious expressions.
“Is everything alright over there?” he asked, his brow furrowing in concern.
“Yes, yes! Just... discussing some ideas!” Hoggle blurted out, forcing a smile that felt more like a grimace. “Right, guys?”
“Absolutely!” Didymus replied, his voice cracking slightly. “Just brainstorming, you know how it is!”
The man raised an eyebrow but seemed to accept their response.
“Well, make sure you’re ready for the meeting," he said. "Sarah will want everyone on board for her plans,”
As the printer whirred to life, Hoggle leaned closer to the others and whispered, "We need to act natural. If he thinks we’re just employees, we might have a chance to gather more information,”
“Right,” Didymus said, straightening up and trying to adopt a more confident posture, though his heart raced. “Let’s just play along for now,”
The man turned back to the printer, and Hoggle seized the moment.
“Excuse me, sir,” he said, trying to sound casual. “Could you tell us more about this meeting? What’s it about?”
The man glanced over his shoulder, a smile breaking across his face. “Oh, it’s just a little brainstorming session for our next big project. Sarah has some innovative ideas she wants to share, and we’re all excited to hear them. You’ll love it!”
“Sounds great!” Hoggle replied, forcing enthusiasm into his voice. “We wouldn’t want to miss it,”
When they all stepped out into the hallway, Hoggle whispered to Ambrosius, "Looks like we're in the clear,"
At that moment, Didymus pulled the man by the shirt collar and said, "If you draw any weapons, I shall see that you are well treated!"
Hoggle facepalmed.
"We're doomed," he said.
"Toast," Ludo added.
The meeting room had white walls, floors, and one large window. A large brown table with several chairs was positioned in the middle. As the meeting commenced, the atmosphere in the room felt stifling, a blend of fluorescent lights and the low hum of murmured discussions. Sarah stood at the front, animatedly presenting her ideas, but the words seemed to drift over Ludo, Ambrosius, Hoggle, and Didymus like a monotonous drone. The four friends exchanged glances, their expressions a mix of frustration and urgency as they attempted to catch Sarah’s attention.
“Sarah, can we talk?” Hoggle whispered, leaning forward in his chair, but just as he opened his mouth, a colleague chimed in with a lengthy question. He sighed, sinking back into his seat, his patience wearing thin.
Ludo fidgeted beside him, his large frame shifting uncomfortably. “Ludo not like this. Ludo want to go home,” he muttered, his voice barely audible over the chatter.
Ambrosius, now feeling the effects of the blue liquid wearing off, glanced nervously at Didymus. “We need to warn her about Jareth,” he whispered urgently, but just as he spoke, another interruption came from the back of the room—a loud crash as someone knocked over a stack of papers.
“Focus, everyone!” Sarah called out, trying to regain control of the meeting.
Hoggle could feel the edges of his suit becoming loose, the fabric shifting as his true form threatened to break through. He looked at his friends. Ambrosius' white fur was starting to sprout up around his eyes and ears. Ludo's mouth was beginning to twist and contort in a hilariously large size.
“Sarah!” Didymus exclaimed, raising his hand in a desperate attempt to be heard, but his voice was drowned out by a chorus of voices.
He slumped back in his chair, defeated.
“We’re never going to get through to her at this rate,” said Hoggle.
As the meeting dragged on, the air grew thick with boredom, and the four friends felt their transformations slipping away. Hoggle’s fingers began to sprout coarse brown fur, and he could feel his ears elongating. Ludo’s expression turned from anxious to panicked as he realized his disguise was fading.
“Ludo not want to be seen!” he whispered, his voice rising in pitch.
Ambrosius looked around, his heart racing.
“We have to do something!” he urged, but just as he spoke, Sarah turned to them, her brow furrowed in concentration.
“Is everything alright over there?” she asked, her voice cutting through the noise.
“Uh, yes! Just… brainstorming!” Hoggle exclaimed.
The others nodded vigorously.
“Good! I’m glad to see everyone engaged,” Sarah replied, turning back to her presentation. The moment passed, and the four friends exchanged exasperated glances, their frustration mounting.
“Maybe we should just shout it out,” Didymus suggested, half-joking, but the desperation in his voice was palpable. “At this rate, we’ll be back to our true forms before we can even warn her!”
As the meeting continued, the interruptions persisted, each one more frustrating than the last. The four friends felt the weight of their mission pressing down on them, and with each passing moment, the chance to warn Sarah slipped further away. They were caught in a cycle of monotony, their disguises unraveling. They had to find a way to break through the noise and get Sarah’s attention before it was too late.
Hoggle raised his hand.
"Yes, uh, Sebastian?" Sarah said, pointing to him.
Lowering his hand, Hoggle said in a fake British accent, "I'm sorry, madam, but may I please go to the loo?"
"Yes," said Sarah.
"Us too?" asked Didymus, gesturing to Ludo and Ambrosius.
"Alright," Sarah said. "Go ahead,"
"Thank you kindly," replied Hoggle.
The four friends hurried down to the copy room. Hoggle took the photo out of his pocket once more and put it on the printer. As the machine whirred to life, the tension in the room heightened, each beep echoing like a countdown to their impending discovery. Hoggle glanced nervously at the door, half-expecting Jareth to burst in at any moment, while Didymus fidgeted beside him, his eyes darting around the cluttered room for any signs of danger. With a deep breath, Hoggle pressed the button to start printing.
As the printer began to churn out the first few pages, a sense of relief washed over Hoggle and his friends. But just as the image of Jareth started to materialize, the printer emitted a loud, jarring clunk, followed by a series of frantic beeps that echoed ominously in the small room. Hoggle’s heart sank as he watched the paper jam, the once-smooth flow of ink now interrupted by a tangled mess of crumpled sheets.
“No, no, no!” he exclaimed, rushing to the printer, his hands fumbling as he tried to free the stuck paper.
Didymus leaned in closer, his eyes wide with panic. “What if someone hears that? We can’t afford to be discovered now!”
Ludo, towering over them, peered anxiously at the printer, his brow furrowed. “Ludo not like this! Ludo want to fix!”
As Hoggle wrestled with the stubborn paper, he could feel the weight of time pressing down on them, each second ticking away like a countdown to their exposure. The printer finally spat out a mangled sheet, the image of Jareth barely recognizable, and Hoggle cursed under his breath, knowing they were running out of time.
"This is the death of us," Didymus said, sorrowfully.
"I don't understand what went wrong," said Hoggle. "Didymus, you're always bragging about how you're the expert on Earth culture. Can you please fix it?"
"Truth be told, Sir Hoggle," said Didymus. "I am not an expert on these things,"
Ambrosius looked down and whimpered.
"What is it, boy?" Didymus inquired.
They all followed his gaze and looked down, realizing their oversight. In their haste, they had failed to notice the wires jutting out of the printer and trailing out the window, which someone had carelessly left open. When they looked up, their hearts sank as they spotted a barn owl perched on the sill, the end of the wires clutched tightly in its beak. They ran for the door, but it was too late. The owl tugged at the wires until the printer exploded, sending papers flying in all directions like confetti. The loud bang echoed through the room, drowning out their startled gasps as ink splattered across the walls. Hoggle tripped and fell on his face, the others following him not long after.
The owl flew in and landed on Hoggle's face and glared down at him like the powerful ruler he was.
"Don't you dare!" Hoggle screamed.
This was followed by another scream.
Sarah heard the shouting and ran to the copy room. She opened the door and was shocked to find her coworkers surrounded by papers.
"What the-?" she began.
"It's us, my lady," said Didymus.
Only one person ever referred to her by that name.
"Sir Didymus!" said Sarah. "Hoggle. Ambrosius. Ludo. Hi!"
"Hello," said Didymus.
"What's his deal?" Sarah said, referring to Hoggle.
Didymus turned to look. Hoggle was sitting up, except his facial expression was one of shock, horror, and disgust. It didn't take them long to see why. A streak of white and black was on his mouth.
"I'm gonna need to bleach my mouth out after this," was all he said.
"Can someone please explain to me what's going on?" Sarah asked.
