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Miss Alex

i wrote a fan-fiction; first time writing fiction in over half a decade, never mind fan-fiction. i’m rusty, but it was fun. i want to keep at it, i think, but i think about a page is as long as i dare for a tumblr post.

edit: i wrote more, oh no! (And other faces)

Miss Alex

Fallen Hero: Rebirth Fan-Fiction

trans!sidestep, egg, waaaay before events of the game

Chelsea follows you off the bus into the Los Diablos heat. You shouldn’t have let this go on for so long, it’s dangerous. But despite how nervous it’s making you, Chelsea sees something familiar in you, this animated pile of loose, baggy, clothing. You don’t understand it, but it’s intoxicating.

The dull pain of a healing bruise lingers on your arm as she lets go of you. “We made it!” As the bus pulls away, the woman you’ve been sitting next to for the last hour in interstate traffic gives you a small, friendly, smile. Her name is Chelsea Becker, she’s about twenty-nine years old, she used to work at a tech start-up in New Victoria, though whatever she does now she doesn’t want to think about. Similar to you, she’s on this bus looking to get the heck away from San Fransisco.

You know all this, though the two of you have barely spoken to each other since she inexplicably paid your bus fair for you. Not that you needed her to do that, the bus driver had been conveniently zoning out, no one should have noticed you. How did she? Sloppy, dangerous.

The woman turns to face you under the shade of the bus stand as a few other stragglers clear off into the streets, “I need to meet-up with my cousin–” A lie? Why? “–in a bit…” You don’t need to look at her face to know she’s nervous, but more for you than herself which is absurd, but you can’t break character, so–

“Th-thanks again,” you mumble, hands in your pockets, the top of your hood drooping into your field of vision. Playing the part of bashful transient isn’t exactly difficult, and that’s what this is, an act. Another persona you’re putting on, your talent. But maybe you’re overdoing it a little.

Chelsea is conflicted for a moment, then grips her purse strap, “I’ve got some time, do you want to grab something to eat?” She hesitates, and then before you can reply, adds, “I can pay for you, don’t worry about it.”

It’s tempting to let this play out, to find out what is about you that she finds so familiar to make her offer such concern for a complete stranger. She seems to think you’re a kid, a run-away? She’s not sure. It’s closer to the truth than you’re comfortable with, either way. You put an embarrassed smile on your face, this has gone on long enough, if she knew the truth she wouldn’t be so quick to have you stick around. “You really don’t need to do that, I’m fine.”

There’s a flare of frustration from Chelsea, “You sure?”

You hold up a conciliatory hand, shrug shoulders. Look grateful but embarrassed. “I’ll be fine, but thank you.”

“Alright, well…” She sticks out a hand to you, “I’m Chelsea Becker.”

“Alex,” You answer, memory automatically calling to mind the name of the cashier who had accidentally given you five fives instead of ones this morning. Awkwardly, you grab Chelsea’s hand, still cold from the Bus AC, and shake it.

Rather than pulling you closer like she had been thinking to, she lets go of your hand. “You got a place to stay, Miss Alex?”

The ‘Miss’ hits you off guard and it takes a moment longer then it should have to get back into your persona. You have to wipe the inexplicable smile that’s threatening to crawl up your face. “Uh yeah, yeah, I’ll be fine.” It’s an obvious lie, and as expected Chelsea frowns, lips pursed. “I’m fine, really.” You insist. You give her another smile, willing her to believe you.

Finally she relents and steps back, “Alright, well, I know it’s a big city, but I hope we run into each other again. You take care of yourself, honey.”

“Yeah,” Now you let yourself smile, genuine, “You too.” You step away too, and turn to walk down the opposite end of the street from where Chelsea needs to go. In the back of your mind, you can still feel Chelsea through the buzz of everyone else around you both, watching you leave, until finally, she too turns and walks away.

That whole interaction was a stupid risk on your part. Sure, you gave her someone else’s name and she seemed to even think you were a woman, but now she’s an unnecessary loose end. Someone who might remember your face if anyone came looking. Which they will. You’re sure.

If you were stronger, you’d have ghosted on her right there back on the bus, then waited to take the next one just to be sure. You could still do it even while you’re walking away, just reach out and… push her to forget you at least. It would be easy, but… you hold back, and then she’s lost in the buzz of people, blocks away.

You step out of the flow of people on the sidewalk and lean against the brickwork while you rub some dust out of your eye. Well, now you can at least spare a moment to get your bearings, figure out where you’re going next. Still, it was nice to be seen for once.

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