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POV: You're a successful doctor, going to work and honestly, my brain is empty and I can't come up with a creative caption. Bryce has that effect on me.
@little-froggy @desskryze
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AN: (this is my first time writing a fanfiction so pls go easy on me lol)
âHow are you so confident?â
Lucio had no idea why he still remembered that question. It was the middle of summer in Vesuvia. It hadnât rained in weeks. It was as if a huge cloak of fire was covering the city. The heat outside was almost unbearable.
âThe people need something to cheer them upâ, Nadia had said. So naturally, Lucio threw a party. Then another. Then he decided to host another full-blown masquerade, and tonight was the night. The roaring sound of laughter and happy screams was filling the air. Singers and musicians were all playing in unison, tapping their feet and smiling, as a huge crowd of partygoers danced their heart out on the floor. The music was so loud in the palace, it could be heard from a few miles away. The rhythm of the drums was almost hypnotising. The walls were shaking, the heat was rising, and amongst the crowd, Lucio was thriving. He loved the attention. He loved the spotlight. The masquerade was made for him. Â
âHowâre you so confident?â What a dumb question. When Nasmira - one of Nadiaâs sister - asked, he couldnât help but laugh in her face. The nerve of this woman! Even if it had happened a few hours earlier, Lucio could still remember. Despite the drinking, the dancing and all the partying. Why did he remember? He could still hear her voice:
âHowâre you so confident?â
âWhat?â Sat at the buffet table, Lucio turned to the woman next to him, clearly annoyed. âSpeak up Nasmira, I canât hear you over the music.â
âI said, how are you so confident? Itâs amazing, I would lov-â Â
âHah!â Lucio raised his hand to stop her. âIt doesnât matter, actually. I donât care.â
Without any care or hesitation, Lucio flashed her his prettiest smile, stood up and left. He paid no attention to Nadiaâs murderous gaze on his back, as he headed to the dance floor, after stealing a drink from a nearby table. He already had a little buzz, but that was just the beginning. Â
For hours on, he had danced, eaten, indulged in all the pleasures he could get without taking a break. Time seemed to have flown by, and yet the night was still young. Swaying his hips to the music on the dance floor, Lucio started to sing. Drink in hand, shirt open, he was the life of the party. His dance partner looked at him with half hooded eyes, clearly under his spell. He was having more fun than he could handle, and yet he couldnât forget this question. âHowâre you so confident?â Â
The thought of it made him frown. Hell, of course heâs confident. Thatâs just him! What else could he be? Thatâs simply who he is. Right?
Spinning and spinning on the dance floor, Lucio could feel the alcohol from his drink starting to settle. Lost in thoughts, for a moment, he did ask himself â...Why am I?â Memories of his childhood came to mind. Morga, his mother, screaming at him because he couldnât hit the target with his axe. The other kids chuckling at his struggle. Him getting so mad, he almost threw the axe at them. Getting to bed without dinner for being bad. Crying to sleep. Plotting his revenge. Getting it, but being unable to get rid of the pain. Morga rejecting his hugs. Being forced to sleep outside during a thunderstorm at night. Feeling so small. So weak. So insignificant.
It all came back to his mind in a second. Lucio almost needed to sit down. He looked at his glass: empty. Feeling dizzy, he excused himself from his date and rushed to the bar. He sat on the nearest stool, yelled a couple words to the bartender and sighed. In a second, he had two more drinks in his hands. It was more than he needed, and yet it still didnât feel like enough. Â
He was hurting. The black hole he used to feel in his chest had come back. His face, now red was contorted in anger. He squished his glasses, so tightly the veins on his hands were pulsing. Â
He hated them all. His mom, his dad, his family. For too many years, they had mocked him. For too many years, they had made him feel like he should hate himself. They had made him want to die. Well, no more. Â
He remembered the day he finally snapped. His 18th birthday. The worst day of his life.
âYou have to earn the title of leader, Lucio!â Morga had said. âI donât care that youâre my son, I donât care that youâre of age, or that it is your âbirth rightâ! Youâre just a small, useless, incapable weakling! Unworthy to lead the Scourge tribe! I will not announce you as the next heir! Not you, a fool, deprived of any strength!â
Lucio looked at his feet. For so long, he had tried so hard. Heâd had enough. Â
No more.
âIâll show you âstrengthâ, mother!â Morgaâs eyes were big like the moon, as she watched her son flip the table over. Tears prickling his eyes, face deformed by painful rage, he began to break everything that fell under his hands. Vases, dishes, shields, frames... everything. Morga rushed to stop him.
âLucio! Stop it, stop it! You idiot, you fool!â He tried to fight her off, but his mother managed to seized his shoulders and push him in his room. She locked the door behind him. "You'll get out once you learn how to be a man!â Â
Lucio heard his mom walk away, and the front door open, then close again. Face red, he punched his bedroom door, again and again, to no avail. Â
âI hate you!â he yelled, hurting his throat.
But Morga was long gone. There was no one to hear his first sobs. There was no one to hold him, as he slowly slipped on the floor, back against the wall. There was no one to comfort him, no one to hug him, as he sobbed so hard he could barely breathe. No one. There was no one for him. He was all alone.
That night...
The memory was excruciating to remember. Lucio opened his eyes, surprised he had even closed them in the first place. With a shaky breath, he looked around at the masquerade. Â
People. Â
People everywhere. Â
He was surrounded by guests. Friends, family, strangers. Citizens of Vesuvia and nearby provinces. So many people. All here tonight, because of him. Â
For him. In his honour.
The thought made him puff out his chest a little. If his dad could see him now, right? His dad... Â
His dad. He remembered sneaking out of the settlement, that night. Â
He remembered.
Cold, face full of dried tears, walking in the dark. The full moon in the sky being his only light. The only witness of what he was about to do. Alone, he was walking. Walking towards the biggest mistake of his life.
His fists were sore from all the punching he had done on his door, enraged, trying to break free. His arms - full of scratches caused by the windowâs glass he had to break to get out - were painfully throbbing. Â
But Lucio was determined. One foot after the other, steadily, he reached the cave of the serpent of destruction - Vlagnagog. Â He knew what he had to do to become strong. He had to ask for the power to kill his parents.
So, he went on his knees. He went on his knees and performed the ritual. Â
No, at the time he didnât know. He didnât know, didn't realise, that he summoned the worm of pestilence instead. The worm did tell him that Vlagnagog was dead. He did. But Lucio couldnât back down. Instead, he laughed. He laughed, like he always did when the pain grew too heavy. When his dad berated and insulted him. When his mom left him in the forest at night to toughen him up. When he felt like the âwormâ his mom called him so often. He laughed, because he refused to cry. And with a laugh, Lucio decided he would still make the deal. He was too weak, or stupid â as Morga said â to back down. So he got the worm of pestilenceâs power.
He remembered holding his dadâs dead body, the next day. He remembered, finally feeling free when he realised that he could never hurt him again. He remembered the fury in his momâs eyes, when she set eyes on him, bloody clothes, blood dripping from his hands. âSee mom ?! Whoâs weak now ?!â
âNot meâ, Lucio muttered to himself, still sitting on the stool. He glanced at his glasses, which were now empty, and his head was spinning. âHoly shit, Iâm smashed.â He got up, almost falling over, and looked around to find a dance partner. In the crowd he saw Nadia, who didnât even care about him. He saw Valerius, chatting with another man. He saw his previous partner eating with their friends.
So he laughed. Â
He laughed so hard his ribs hurt. Grabbing the closest person to him, he headed to the dance floor, dancing with all his might. He could see several eyes on him, whispers of admiration, âheart eyesâ and blushing cheeks. Â
Adoration. Envy. Desire. He could see some curious eyes, from people - like Nasmira - wondering âHow is he so confident?â
And deep-down Lucio knew the answer. âBecause I have to.â Â
He refused to be weak. He refused to let his momâs insults win. He refused to give up on whom he wanted to be.
Truth was, he wasnât t that confident. Not inside. Not always.
But he tried. And he couldn't stop. Otherwise, his world would crumble. Â
So, he drank, ate, danced and over-indulged, trying to fill the hole in his chest which felt deeper, some days. And at every party, every masquerade, he put on his mask. And got ready to play.
Because maybe, one day heâd wake up feeling truly happy. And confident.
