who needs the young?

          BLUE FALCON • You’remeant to be doing your homework, sat carefully at the Akenzua’s dinner tablewith your U.S. history book and laptop open to write about the technologicalrevolution — But truly, nobody gives a crap about U.S. history, about how Fordbecame Hermes Hovercars, and how the technological improvements of the pastyear meant the country you reside in is striving. ( That’s not true. Clearly MrWomack cares, otherwise he wouldn’t be torturing you with this homework. ) Soyou’re sat there, doodling in the corner of your notebook, trying to pretendthat really, SCHOOL’S GREAT and you don’t miss being with your friends at all (only pretentious kids go to your new high school. It goes pretentious kids,Riccardo Falco and you, ranked in increasing order of coolness ). It’s a LOSTCAUSE of course. Your best friend knows you too well by now to know that you’reLYING, that you miss getting to go to a crappy public school and listen to apre-recorded hologram drone on about maths while sat next to Joanie, that youmiss walking back from school with Zeph ( and stopping to get slushies orwhatever the dollar store had to offer on the way ). You’d found Riccardo Falcoin the most unlikely of places ( something you’ll be forever grateful for ),both of you birds of a feather — Quickly close friends, the support you’dsorely needed when thrown completely out of your element and a fellow StarSwine enthusiast. But befriending him didn’t mean you forgot about your otherfriends, and you’d tried to include them in your new life as best as you could( and stick around in theirs, because their lifestyle were way closer to youthan any pancakes at Falco Tower ). You’re doodling BIRDS, blue ink coveringthe page of your notebook as Zeph looks over from her biology homework and towhatever it is you are doing ( certainly not a U.S. history essay ). You can seethe mockery in her face, features lighting up at her own amusement, ready totease you. So you yell — ❝ IMANI ! ❞ You get no answerand call for her again before your friend can react. A shit-eating smile (grin, really ) spreads on your lips, the kind only shared by SISTERS. Because thisis what you and Zeph are. Sisters, with silly childhood nicknames from backwhen you were learning to talk and couldn’t pronounce Zeph’s full name andhabits of sitting around the dinner table doing homework. And sisters don’tstop being sisters, even if one of them changes school or blue birds comealong. Sisters have each other’s back. Well. MOST OF THE TIME. ❝ Imani ! You’ll never guess why Jarrod offered to come over ! ❞

          RED SHELLS • The walkto the tattoo parlor is fairly short. You’ve let Zeph pick it, mostly becauseyou don’t really care about the wheres or hows of it all. You want to get a tattoo, sure,but it has to be WITH HER. You don’t think you’d even be capable of walkingthrough that door if your friend wasn’t with you during the whole process — Notbecause you’re not sure of yourself, but because. Well. Because tattoos were a ZEPHthing, with her having the idea for one way before you came up with yours. Itwouldn’t have felt right to do this without her support. You could have gonewith Falco, but you don’t want him to get any ideas as to the significance ofyour tattoo, so he’ll just get a surprise picture of your foot sent to him onceit’s done, no comment necessary. And of course, you’re up first, because Zeph’stattoo idea is far more intricate than your own, and that you’ll be done in notime. You still feel like suggesting MATCHING TATTOOS, but your Mario Kart RedShells idea hadn’t been too well received and you’re in need of more time todecide on a good design. Next time, then, because there’s no way you wouldn’timmortalize your friendship ( sisterhood ) with Zeph in that way if she is willing to do the same — written inink forever. So you get one word ( FREEDOM ), written in an intricate calligraphy. You’venever exactly been subtle, and this is perhaps the purest definition of youressence you could think of. Freedom, love, a youth WORTH LIVING — It seems likeyou have it all, then. A phone ( yours ) is thrown in Zeph’s direction as you lookover at her with a BRIGHT SMILE. ❝ Here. If you mock me while filming,I swear I’m so not getting a matching tattoo with you next time. ❞ It’s a blatant lie.You wouldn’t pass out on this for the world. Soon enough ( in a year ), you and Zeph would take different paths and go on to study different things incollege ( or perhaps even not study at all ) and you’re scared of where thesenew lives will take you. So you soak in every new experience and SMILE, makingsure August 2075 is a month to remember.

          DRY DRY RUINS • Yourlegs have given up on you and left you sat against the cold, dirty tiled floorof the bathroom in one of the few dive bars ( the ONLY dive bar ) you can stillgo to inconspicuously. People don’t care enough about you here to make a fuss,and you like it this way — Music blasting hits of a long forgotten past thatmust have been so much better than today ( the voices of your childhood ),sticky bar and stickier floor, faded posters on the walls which representedidols all dead and buried, all unaware of the great, impossible disaster thatwas the Obsidian Experiment ( SORRY. Obsidian State, although as days pass itfeels more like a joke than anything else, a fault which you recognize ispartly your own ). You’ve taken off your heels then, holding them carefully inone hand so as to not let the floor ruin them ( as if it isn’t already ruiningyour dress, since you’re sat on there. The world doesn’t make much sense toyou, currently ), the other hand holding an almost empty drink. Bathroom dooropens to let in a tall ( far taller than you ) figure with red hair and eyesthat knew TOO MUCH. By now, Zeph is just another name to add to the long listof GHOSTS in your life ( Alessia, Emilio, Silvio, Zeph, Joanie, Jarrod, Theo,Blake. The list goes on ) and, you would wager, a name also on the list of ghosts ofthe woman who’d just entered, crouching down next to you and careful to nottouch the floor. She’s smarter than you. She’s always been smarter than you.And she has this look — Not quite disappointment. Bitter habit ? Annoyance ?You’ve seen that look before, countless of times, but it’s not Zeph’s anymore.It’s Zahara’s — and you didn’t grow up with a woman lost to everyone includingherself. Your best friend had a life and endless possibilities. Still, headturns to look at her — The STRANGER you know so well. Hand tries tomove some of your bangs out of the way, but you remember midway that you areholding your drink and take the second-to-last sip instead. You laugh, thesound feels stodgy against your furred mouth. ❝ Some thingsnever fucking change. ❞ You comment, still trying to laugh. Thisisn’t an unusual scene for Zahara and Sloane Falco, but it is even morefamiliar to Zeph and Sloane Byrne, after all the parties they’d been totogether. The comment is sadder than you intended, and you frown at that realization.❝ That was. Deep. ❞ ‘Deep’ doesn’t even begin to cover it,but it is the only word you can muster. So you force a smile — loop-sided,alcohol-induced, tired, sad, foreign smile to the woman next to you. You wantto tell her you need to head home but wouldn’t know how. You want to tell herthat whatever happens, you need her to promise she’ll look out for Raven. Youwant to tell her that you hope there’s still a little bit of ZEPH under all theZahara bravado. But she’s a ghost, a ruin, a STRANGER. So you smile. That’salright, you suppose. Your life is filled with ghosts, ruins and strangers ( sowhat’s another one ? ). The only exception to that is perhaps RAVEN, and you’renot even sure of that.    

          ALESSIA • Theholidays were always an important time in the Falco household and for FalcoIndustries. Even before Obsidian, before everything went to shit, you can countthe amount of events they’d been holding and you’d been snuck to ( “added tothe guest list is NOT sneaking” ) a bit too easily. It was everything else, too— The winter fairs, the snow, the shopping with Alessia Falco, skipping thelast day of school, all these little things you missed and would NEVER be ableto provide to your own daughter. There is one thing you might be able to,though. A WHITE CHRISTMAS. Now that’s something you haven’t had in a while,snow always coming in abundance either before or after, but missing the mark onthe whole day entirely. And you can’t really complain — You dislike snow,dislike the slippery and frozen streets it leaves behind, making the whole ofObsidian appear colder and deader than it normally is ( an extraordinary feat,given the usual state of the devastated city ). Raven is SEVEN now, too old foryou to be able to entertain her with crayons and the back of documentscarefully labeled CONFIDENTIAL and IMPORTANT in your own private joke of slowingdown State business; old enough that she might actually read these documents;not old enough that you would know how to explain them to her ( you’re not sureshe’ll ever be old enough for that. Perhaps because you’re doing a poor job atfinding the right words for things so much BIGGER than you ). This, however ?Raven isn’t too old for THIS. You can see her little face growing closer to thecold windows as snowflakes fall, and so you rush through your whole closetuntil you find something resembling the warmest winter coat you own. It’s big,bulky and deep purple. ❝ RAVEN ALESSIA FALCO. ❞ You callout, and the name rings on your tongue like a tribute to all the people Ravenwould never get to meet, the aunt she never got, and all the snow days she’dnever get to experience. It also ring like TROUBLE, because why else would yoube using your daughter’s full name ? You hold the jacket way too big for thelittle girl open in front of you. ❝ Thought you could use to learn howto make snow angels, baby. I know a TOP SECRET location for that.❞ The roof.You mean the roof. Still, you bend down to be at eye-level with your daughter,a mischievous smile playing on her lips in challenge and invitation.       

          RHEA • ❝ You know they named THIS STAR after your grandmother. ❞ Legs aretucked under your feet as you take in the night sky from the highest floor ofFalco tower — a floor you’re not even entirely sure either of you are meant tobe roaming around at this time of the night, but its huge bay window gives youthe BEST view short of the roof of the tower, and the January air is not warmenough for you to want to brave THAT in your silk nightgown and robe. Raven’sbright face looks back at you, shining even through the dim lights of the room,and you point your finger again at the night sky, with more insistence thistime. “THIS ONE, they named this one after your grandmother”, you seem to say. Intruth, you have no bloody clue that they did. ❝ Might be aMOON, actually. The moon of Saturn that’s just like a SNOWBALL. ❞ A pause.❝ RHEA. She’d have loved you. ❞ You don’t actually believe that one ofSaturn’s moons was named after Rhea Falco, a woman you’d only met in rarepictures and the odd story Alessia had told to you before she died ( Riccardotold you stories, too, but his memories of his mother were few, not enough to approximatewhat really was a full person ), but you want to believe ( you have to believe ) that she would haveloved Raven. If Alessia didn’t lie, you are sure she would have. And you wantRaven to love her, too — To feel some sort of connection with her that she’ll otherwisenever be able to have ( not with Rhea Falco and not, it seems, with many otherpeople ). So when your teenage daughter’s face turns to you again, you smile —faintly and ENCOURAGINGLY. You want her to believe. You want her to believe SOBADLY, even though really you know fuck all. You’ve had enough wine with dinnerthat the lie slips past your lips convincingly, and you prop yourself back upon your knees ( then stand up completely ), carefully advancing closer to her as if to inspect the sky. ❝ Right there, you see ?! ❞ Giddy laugh is in your voice, you clasp oneof your hands on your daughter’s shoulder and squeeze, in a one-armed hug. Youthink perhaps that Raven can hear the lie — She’s FOURTEEN now, not amused muchmore by your dramatic retelling of stories and quite probably able to spot thethings you make up by how you purposefully drag your syllables when you speak.But this is RHEA FALCO, this is a planet that looks like a SNOWBALL, this isASTRONOMY. Everything has carefully aligned with symbolism, to the point whereyou think that perhaps ? Perhaps you’re already believing in it all. The feeling of yourdaughter, still pressed against your side in a hug she hasn’t tried to escapefrom ( yet ? ) makes you smile some more.

          FALCO • You’re notquite sure what is happening at all. You don’t know anymore, have never known.Your own confusion transpires through every one of your pores, but at the very leastyou can tell that Raven is HAPPY. You have never seen her this happy before —Giddy, running from people to people in JOY, EXALTATION and EXCITEMENT. A wholelife opened ahead of her, and she’d chosen to make friends. You’ve raised herwell, you think — Or perhaps you haven’t, and this wonderful humanbeing is like this despite all that you did. Either way, you taught hereverything you knew. This is perhaps the only thing you are certain of in oneof the most uncertain times in your life. Riccardo is here, too — Sat as faraway from you as you could allow, but not far enough that you can’t make outall the creases in his face, the droplets of water at his every moves. You gotso scared back then ( back then, as if this hadn’t been minutes ago ). Soscared for him, for you, for the life you never led but would have deserved tohave ( still wanted to have ). It’s your daughter that shakes you out of yourown insecurities when she reaches you, arms extending as your first reactionwhen you turn to her is still to FIX HER HAIR before you pull each other into a hug.You hold on as tightly as you can — Because you know there’s a boy over therewaiting for her ( and a man waiting for YOU ), and you want to makethis moment where she is still entirely yours, as she was all those years agowhen you first held her, last forever. It doesn’t, but you know you’ve got tolet her live out her life and all the experiences you’ve wished for her, lether FALL IN LOVE ( and fall hard ) and hope it wouldn’t burn her ( you’d bethere to patch things up if it ever did again ). You have a story to live outfor yourself, too — Yours and Riccardo’s. Your hand still clutches hers as muchas you can until she lets go of it and walks away, a huff of hair rushing backto the boy. DOWN. Raven’s let her hair down, carefully framing the soft linesof a face that looked so much like her father. Your lips curl up then in thisbittersweet, proud smile only parents can know. Your daughter is a FALCO,through and through.