After that…
intense night out, I only end up getting about four hours of sleep. I seriously contemplate skipping school, but then I'd have to explain what was wrong to Artie, and so I obligingly drag myself out of bed even though I want nothing more than to crawl back in.
Luckily, living in the dorms on-campus means that I don't have to waste time commuting, and about forty minutes later I'm sitting in my first period, European History, with Mr. Wenzel Dashington.
Here's where I'd normally give some snarky comment about him, but honestly, a cardboard cutout of a piece of wonderbread has more personality than he does.
Seriously, it's such a waste! Like, your name is "Wenzel Dashington" dude, that's the most "kung-fu movie protagonist" name this side of the Mississippi. How the
fuck do you end up more bland than an English breakfast?
And it sucks too, because I love the subject!
"Morning, Argyra."
I turn around. "Oh, hey Dick. Morning."
"Sorry I skipped Chem yesterday, I had something I needed to do."
I shrug. "Honestly, you're fine. It wasn't a lab day, so I didn't need you for anything."
I first met him last year when, despite being a sophomore, he managed to test into the advanced Psychology elective Artie made me take with her. I'm pretty sure normally no one younger than a junior is allowed to take it, but, well, there are benefits to being the adopted son of one of the richest men in America.
He's kind of a celebrity around here, and not just because of his wealth. Like his father, he's a compulsive flirt, and
extremely funny, the type of guy that's the life of any social event you bring him to. Apparently, people find that charming?
I wouldn't know, of course. I'm a quiet, stoic churchmouse that's never even
thought about genitals.
I've always found it corny and a bit
too desperate, especially with how he drinks less than
I do, and I've never actually heard of anyone who he's legitimately slept with. I'd say he's gay and trying to hide it, but I swear I've seen him ogle girls before. Well, as much as a sixteen-year-old can ogle anything.
Honestly, who knows? Artie's always been the one that actually understands people, and she told me that from what she's seen, he's the type of guy with a lot of "friends", and almost no
actual friends. A loner that's not a loner.
Guess that makes two of us, buddy.
Unfortunately, many of the other girls here seem unreasonably attracted to the smooth-talker, and so he's practically got a fanclub. Being a longtime bachelor apparently doesn't raise any red flags, they just see it as him not having found the
right girl yet.
Straight people, I swear to go-
the gods.
Heh, caught myself.
Luckily for my lack-of-getting-detentions, he's never turned those attentions onto Artemis, given that they've only ever had one class together, so we get along just fine. Hence the partnering in Chemistry: he seems to appreciate that I'm not trying to get into his pants, and I appreciate that behind his playboy veneer he's actually intelligent enough to not make me do everything like all the other idiots I have to work with.
"You coming to Brent's party this Saturday?"
"Yeah, I heard that's going to be crazy" Ted Carson says from next to him, "Brent said his parents are going to be in Europe at a conference or something, so we have the mansion to ourselves."
Rich people.
I shrug. "Eh, maybe? You know me, I'm not really a partier."
He nods. "Yeah, I feel that. You've never really felt all that turbed at them."
"…What?"
"You know, the opposite of '
disturbed'?"
"I…"
You know what? I'm just going to ignore him.
Dick seems content to let me, leaning back in his chair to talk to Ted. He's always been like that, willing to just let people be, and do his own thing.
The only exception to that rule is-
Huh. Is standing right outside the door, apparently.
"Lonnie? What are you doing here?"
The blond boy walks over to my desk, holding out a plastic bag to me, his eyes drilling into the boy sitting to my right.
"I'm going to be busy tonight, so I wanted to give you back your headphones before I forgot."
Oh, right, forgot about that.
I grab the bag. "No problem. Honestly, you could have kept them, I barely use the things."
I look at the logo on the front of the bag. "Oh hey, is this from New Ho King? I've heard their stuff is good."
Dick inclines his head to the new arrival, eyes piecing, abandoning his casual conversation with Ted near-instantly. "Machin."
Lonnie glares back. "Grayson."
I sigh. They're going to be at this for a while, aren't they?
"No really, thank you, Argyra" Lonnie says, "I appreciate you lending them to me. After all,
some of us can't use daddy's money to replace things the minute they break."
Dick's eyes narrow. "I
offered to pay for those, Machin. Even though it's not my fault you're apparently too dumb to look up from your phone when you're walking."
Lonnie sneers. "I don't want your blood money, Grayson."
"Turn that glare of yours somewhere else, Che. Wayne Enterprises has the best benefits of any business in this city, and pays more than any of them too. And the Wayne Foundation is one of the largest charities in
America, it helps
millions of people each year around the world."
I mean… Look, I'm not going to side with the billionaire's (adopted) son, but he's actually right on that one. I know a dude who once
literally killed to get a position at a WayneTech factory.
Lonnie snorts. "
Dà gōng wú sī, but he's still a duke.
Dé bù cháng shī."
Damnit Lonnie, you
know my Mandarin is rusty. I think he's saying that even if Wayne's intentions are good, it doesn't make up for the harm he causes?
Weirdly enough, that's the most positively I've ever heard Lonnie speak about a rich person.
Dick sneers back. "I have some Mandarin for
you Machin:
máng rén mō xiàng."
Yeah, I don't know that one. Something about an elephant?
I'd say they can't stand each other, but they're also one of the only people the other actually talks to, so I don't know. It might just be me reading into things, but I kind of get the sense they actually like one another
way more than either is willing to admit, in spite of themselves.
Lonnie's certainly the only person here Dick actually seems emotionally affected by.
While the boys strut their plumage in front of one another, I turn to the girl sitting directly behind me. "How've you been, Sofia?"
"I've been fine. Daddy's been trying to bring me into the family business, so I got to tour some job sites last night. It was actually pretty interesting. The boys at it again?"
I nod. "Job sites" is of course code for weapons depots, or drug labs, or something like that. She knows it, I know it, she knows I know it, and we just politely pretend that her father is an entirely legitimate businessman.
Yeah, let me tell you, I practically shit my pants when I got assigned to tutor
Carmine fucking Falcone's daughter in History.
Thankfully for me, she's actually a fairly ok person — if one who has a bit of a rose-tinted view of what her father actually does — and we're at least somewhat decent acquaintances now. I mean, we talk on the phone once or twice a month, which is practically friendship in my book.
Artemis
hates her for some reason, and is convinced that we're hooking up, but that might just be spillover hatred for her Dad.
I have to admit, I
do play into it sometimes, and turn up the flirting whenever they're in the same room, but it's not my fault! Artie just makes the most
adorable scrunched-up face when she's irritated.
"How've you been?"
I shrug. "Eh, I had a late night, but… I'm here? So that's nice."
Sofia just nods "Mh, that's how it is sometimes."
I wave goodbye to Lonnie as he
finally ends his…
whatever session with Dick, and then turn back around. "So you really think you'll be taking it over after Don Carmine kicks the bucket?"
"Yeah, I think so. My brother is…" she grimaces, "
not a good candidate, and so Daddy's really been trying to prepare me for things. I have had to learn
so much accounting, you have no idea."
I snort. "Yeah, after Joey Liguori, I'm pretty sure he's hyper-paranoid about embezzlement."
"Don't
even. He missed my thirteenth birthday party because of that whole fiasco."
She leans in, whispering. "Daddy may or may not have made the piñata for my fourteenth using his skill to make up for it."
I have to hold back a giggle. Ohhh I am
so going to hell.
I mean, I plan to figure out how to turn myself and Artie immortal, but if I
did ever die, that's probably where I'd end up.
She frowns. "Although, now that I think of it, that might have been because he invited Joey's niece to the party. So
that's why he insisted she take the first swing after me…"
She sighs, pinching her brow. "God damnit Daddy, why do you have to be so…
extra."
I send her a mildly disturbed glance.
"What?" she says, pulling back with a smirk. "C'mon, it wasn't
that bad. She didn't even know, she just thought it was plastic."
Ok, maybe she's not the
best person.
But I mean, at least she's not as bad as her father? So that's a plus.
Before I can respond, Mr. Dashington enters the room.
"Settle, down, children."
He turns on the projector, a map of Eastern Europe projected on the wall. "At the end of the previous class's lecture, the Serbian armies had just been defeated during the Battle of Kosovo. This class, we will discuss the-…"
He reaches into his breast pocket, only to pause, and begin patting himself down.
"My apologies, students. I have forgotten my class notes in my car. I will retrieve them at once, please remain in your seats while I do so."
Seriously, what the
fuck dude. How are you like this.
I'm about to pick up the conversation with Sofia, but she's already making conversation with her permanent hanger-on Kitty Walker.
I settle in for a boring five minutes, but unfortunately for me, my
other seatmate chooses that moment to stroll in the door.
"Huh, he's not here. Lucky me, I guess."
I mentally groan.
Damnit, and here I was hoping that some horrible accident had rendered her permanently unable to attend classes.
A girl can dream, I guess.
She smirks at me as she sits down, even as I purposefully don't make eye contact. "Good morning!"
I don't bother suppressing the urge to sigh, turning to my left.
She gives me a wide smile. "Why lovergirl, you seem awfully down in the dumps this morning!"
I glower. I'd tell her to stop calling me that, but the last time I did, she made sure to work it into every sentence for a week straight.
She gives me a mock pout. "Did someone forget to hydrate?"
I send her a flat look. "No, it's just the natural reaction ensouled creatures have to your presence."
She coos.
"But
thank you, Rose. Your concern is
greatly appreciated."
"Oh you!" she says, patting my shoulder, "of
course I'm worried about you! Why, when I heard what had happened between you and poor Mary Kong, I was just besides myself!"
"Who knew you had it in you, you Casanova!" She moves to slap my shoulder, but my hand shoots up to bat hers aside before she can. Battle precognition for the win.
Although should I be worried that my subconscious sees something during school hours as close enough to a fight to lean into that aspect of my loom-sight?
I look at the manipulative succubus preening next to me like she's just won the lottery, the daughter and protégé of one of the world's greatest living assassins.
…You know what? In this case, my subconscious is probably right on the money.
And yeah, I know who her dad is. It's not like they go to great lengths to hide it: too many governments use the services of "security consultant Slade Wilson" for him to ever be prosecuted. I could have probably have figured it out even
without the aura of death and destruction that hovered around him on Parents' Night.
Yeesh, and I thought
Artie's Dad was bad.
"I knew that you had some substantial…"
She leans over, giving my an exaggerated wink, "
charms, so to speak, but I was positively shocked when I'd heard that you ensnared that poor girl with them!"
"You'd just fascinated her, apparently. She knew you'd said you didn't want anything serious, but there was just
something about such a dark and tortured genius that called to her like a siren song…"
"So you see, I, being the
generous soul that I am, decided to take pity on the poor heartsick sod and offer her some advice."
Oh that bitch, of
course it was her.
She gestures grandly. "'Open your heart to her!' I said. 'Argyra is a delicate, sensitive soul, and
terribly afraid of letting people in. She desperately yearns to be loved, and all that talk of no attachments, of no feelings, it's so she can protect her innocent, pure heart from the agony of rejection!'"
If looks could kill, I'd be facing down her father's retaliatory hit-squads by now.
Her smug smile only widens at that. "And so, I told her, 'you must open yourself first! She confessed to me that she finds you alluring as well, and so my friend, that delicate maidenly flower, will leap to your arms, but only if you proffer your heart before her! Preferably in public, so she knows you are not ashamed!'"
She shakes her head, miming sadness. "It was
so horrible when you stomped
all over it, right in front of
everyone. For
shame, Argyra."
I growl, keeping my voice low to not attract attention in the noisy room. "You're a real piece of shit, you know that Wilson?"
"I was
merely trying to help, Yra dear."
I let out a frustrated breath. "Mary was fucking
devastated. She hates me, and apparently cried for a
week afterwards."
Rose rolls her eyes, dropping the act.
"Oh, please. Don't act like you actually care about that fucking bimbo" she says with a laugh, "you've only got
one girl on your mind, after all."
I have to restrain myself from slamming my fist into her face. "You're fucking lucky we're in a class right now, or I'd show you exactly what I think of your insinuations."
"Oh?" she purrs, "And just
how exactly would you 'show me'?"
She leans forward, and I hate myself for how my eyes momentarily flick down the front of her shirt. God damnit why does she have to evil
and hot.
Unfortunately for me, she clearly caught it, and gives me a victorious smirk as she leans back. "Don't lie,
Eriargyra. The only reason you're upset about Mary Kong, of
all people, is because you think your little girlfriend would be angry at you if you weren't."
She snorts. "Also, I imagine that the little twit was
incredibly annoying. I
completely understand why you'd hate me for siccing
that on you."
"Oh Argie-poo!" she says, putting on what I hate to admit is a shockingly good impression of Mary's nasally voice, "I just
lovvvvvve you! I want to marry you, and adopt six kids to live in a house with a white picket fence! You can become an investment banker, and I can be your loving Stepford Housewife!"
Rose puts her hand to her forehead. "You always blow me away with your brilliance, like when you taught me what all those weird letters in those math equations mean!"
…Damnit that impression is
really good. I have to purposefully stop the corner of my lip from twitching upwards, but based on her pleased expression, Rose catches it anyways.
She elbows me. "C'mon, you can admit it. The girl's dumber than a box of blunt rocks, and you're
glad she isn't going to talk to you again."
I sigh. "Just… Fuck you, Wilson."
She smirks. "Don't make offers you don't intend to fulfill,
Eri."
Any good humor I had evaporates, as a whirl back around, my hand clenched against the underside of my desk. "Don't you
ever fucking call me-"
Unfortunately for me (or perhaps fortunately, for my not-being-expelled-for-punching-another-student-ness) Mr. Dashington chooses that second to walk back into the door.
Rose grins widely. "Teacher's here, Argyra, time to focus up."
"My apologies, students. I now have returned to class, and have my notes. Let us begin. On August 1st of 1398, the first reports of the aftermath of the battle were…"
I sit there, the droning of Eugene Levy's character from Ferris Bueller washing over me, and slowly,
slowly manage to pry my fingers from the death-grip they have on my desk.
I ignore the silver-haired girl sitting next to me and the smug look she sends me throughout the class
I fucking
hate Rose Wilson.
I'm walking to Chemistry when I hear it.
"No, you know what, Brianna? I'm done with this. We are
having this talk, right now!"
Artemis has Brianna cornered in a side hallway,
How many times do I have to say it! It was funny at first, but it's seriously becoming annoying! Is it because I play sports or something? Because I don't wear makeup?"
"Artemis-"
"No!" Artemis says, angrily, "I'm fed up with this! It was a little funny at first, but it's not anymore! You keep… you keep
insinuating these things about me, that- that I'm like
that, and that-"
"Look, I said I was sorry, alright! It's just a joke, why are you so weird about this!"
"Because I'm
not a fucking lesbian, Brianna! And Eri isn't into me like that!
We are not like that, what we have isn't… isn't…"
"I mean…"
"No, fucking save it! I have heard literally
anything you can say. I have had
years of people… making
insinuations about me, about the things I do, all because of what? I play sports, I hate makeup, I never wear dresses? It's fucking ridiculous."
Artemis leans over the black girl, exploiting every inch of extra height she has on her. "Do you think I'm a liar, Brianna?"
"Um… no?"
"So what, you think I'm… manipulating people?"
"What? No! Artemis, what are you-"
Artemis clenches her fist, visibly holding herself back from punching something. "Because that's what's you're saying. That I'm lying about liking guys, for… for what? To perv on people? That I'm some predator, on the prowl, tricking girls into being friends so I can… do
things to them?"
"Jesus no! And you
can be bi, you know! Argyra is!"
Artemis takes in a deep breath, and lets it out in staggered increments. It's a calming technique we both learned from Ms. Talon.
"First of all, Eri
barely sleeps with guys, so she doesn't really count. And secondly… I'm not… I love Eri like my own-
more than my own sister, she's the most important thing in the whole world to me, but I just
can't be like her. I can't do what she does."
Artemis sighs. "I can't live jumping from one person to the other like a… like a fucking frog on a bunch of lilypads."
Artemis chuckles. "It makes her miserable, you know. Her 'hookups'. She comes back from each of them looking more and more hollow."
She sighs. "She thinks I can't tell, but I know her better than she knows herself. We don't hide anything fr-… she doesn't hide anything from me."
Artemis looks guilty at that. "I'm… I need to be better about that. But it doesn't matter."
She grips Brianna's shoulder. "I don't want to have that- I
won't have that. When I eventually find the right guy, I want it to be something… something true, and pure, and
real. Something that
lasts. Like what I have with Eri. I don't-"
She shakes her head. "I'm getting off topic. It's just… you don't know what you're saying, when you insinuate things like that about her."
She sighs. "Eri… Eri is…"
"She's… she's so smart. She is so,
so smart. She has this incredible curiosity and wonder, like every single thing is the most incredible thing she's seen in her entire life. She has this wonder about the world, about the
universe, like she wants to take it apart gear by gear and figure out how every single little thing works. And hells, she might even be able to do it."
Artemis is smiling now, something soft and gentle. "And… And she's… she hates showing it, because life has fucked her over so much, but she is
such a good person. She is kind, and loving, and
loyal."
"She guards her heart, but when she does open it up, when you actually it's… Fates, it's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. She'll look at you, and it's like you've hung the moon, the stars, and the entire night sky. Like all that need to know and understand, that's normally pointed at the entire universe… it's all pointed entirely at you, and she wants to know you completely. To have you know her, completely."
She gives a soft chuckle. "Sometimes I think that the reason she keeps herself so closed off is that if she cared about more people, she'd just end up drowned by everything she doesn't think she's capable of feeling."
Artemis's gaze hardens. "And she can't see it, that's what kills me inside. She is this incredible, beautiful soul, but for some fucking reason she is absolutely
convinced that she's nothing but trash, that it's some sort of miracle anyone even wants to associate with her. So she throws herself into these… empty, hookups, these girls, that are no good for her and make her
miserable, but then tells herself that that's all she deserves, because they're the only ones that'll have her."
She glares at Brianna. "So when you make 'jokes' about Eri being into me, you're saying exactly that. That she can't have something good and pure, that all she deserves is… is
lust. That every time we hug, or touch, or hang out, or whatever, it's
wrong.
Tainted. That's it's all just some… some
sex thing, and that Eri is only friends with me because she wants to fuck me. The only reason
I could be with
her is because I want to fuck her."
"And Eri… Eri deserves
so much more than that. She
is so much more than that. She's the beautiful, shining star in the heap of
shit that is this city, and she deserves the entire fucking world."
She stands up, glaring at Brianna. "So
fuck you, Brianna. Fuck you for thinking she's anything else. That
we're anything else. Because what we have is so much more than some cheap fucking hookup."
As Artemis storms off, stomping down the hallway.
I just stare at the wall.
…
…
A while later, I don't know how long, I pull out my phone. I scroll down to the contact "Unt, Huge C."
math tutring 2nite?
Almost instantly, my phone chirps.
k. my room at 10 
I slam the cover shut, eyes hard.
At ten sharp, I walk up a floor in the girl's wing of the dormitories, arriving outside a room at the end of the hallway.
I give three staccato knocks.
Rose Wilson opens the door wearing a gigantic t-shirt, and an even bigger smirk. "Knew you couldn't resist me, lovergirl."
"Shut the fuck up" I growl, and attack her mouth with wild passion.
The lovemaking is frantic, wild, and
unfairly good, as it always is. If the walls here weren't soundproofed —
rich people, seriously — Rose's floormates likely would have started conspiring to murder us by now after having their sleep interrupted several times a month for an entire year.
Although who knows, Rose would probably be into that.
I know, I
know. Trust me, I know.
She's a
gigantic bitch, literally one of the worst people I've ever met — a mean feat considering I know multiple people with bodycounts higher than their ages — and a probable sociopath who receives immense pleasure from other people's emotional and physical suffering.
But right now, I just can't fucking care about any of that.
Also, not for nothing is the hair thing: there is
some novelty in sleeping with someone who reminds you of you.
I do my best not to think about just who else the athletic light-haired half-Asian with an assassin for a father reminds me of.
The lovemaking is rough, angry, and stormy, just like it always is. The type of desperate, animalistic struggle that's impossible to dress up with fancy words.
At the end of it, two hours later, I'm lying in Rose's twin bed next to her, panting with exhaustion.
After a minute or two, I stand up, and begin slowly moving to pick up my clothes from where they've been discarded throughout the room.
I look down at where my top is pinned to the wall with a throwing knife. Damnit, I
just bought that.
Rose stretches out on the bed, idly watching me gather my clothes. "You were
extra vicious today"
"Hm?"
She turns around, showing the thick red scratches on her back.
I frown. "I'm-"
She rolls her eyes. "Don't be a fucking pussy, Argyra. If I didn't like it I would have stopped you. I was just commenting."
I do me best to look backwards while putting on my pants.
"So" she says, smirking, "what was it this time?"
I scowl.
"Did archery girl ogle some big hunky and talk about how she wants a bajillion of his babies? Did she go on
another rant about how she hates those stupid dykes trying to turn her into one of them? Was there a moment where you two were face to face, gazing into one another's eyes, only for her to tell you how you're
such a good friend?"
I breathe in, deeply. Ignore her, Eri, she
always does this…
"Ooh, or maybe she's actually started
dating! That would be
hilarious. I think you might actually have an aneury-"
"
Enough, Rose."
She holds her hands up, chuckling. "Alright, alright. But for the record, it
would be funny."
She shrugs. "I mean, to me at least."
I ignore her, just moving to collect my things and end this lapse in judgement as quickly as possible.
"You
have to know it isn't working though, right?"
I pause, taking in a deep breath. "…What?"
She has an amused expression on her face, like a cat batting a trapped mouse in between its paws. "This… whatever you're doing. Fucking your way through the yearbook, trying to run away from your problems with archery girl."
This…
"I know you're more than smart enough to realize it's only making you miserable."
Her smile widens, vicious, like a shark's. "That you're only driving yourself further and further into an emotional pit, and one day, you'll-"
I can feel the unformed electrocution spell dancing just beneath my fingertips.
"
Don't fucking test me, Rose. I mean it."
I will end you.
The silver-haired girl's smile only grows wider at that, and I can practically see her getting ready to go another round.
Zeus above she's fucked up.
…
…
I look down at her nude body.
No.
Bad brain. She is
pure evil.
Also, if you don't leave now, you know you'll sleep in and miss Artemis's practice tomorrow morning.
I just grunt, jerkily moving to zip up my hoodie.
Rose rolls her eyes. "Fine, fine, be like that. And here I was, trying to help you out…"
She flaps a hand towards the door. "Go on then, have fun doing your weird mutual pining thing. I'll see you again when the longing gets too difficult to bear."
Before my hand reaches the doorknob though, my sleeve is pinned by a knife I carefully choose not to react to.
"And remember…"
I roll my eyes. "Yes, if I take anything of yours, you'll drug me and send my body to Thailand to be sliced up for organs. You've mentioned."
"No" she says, a cruel, amused glint in her eye, "if you take anything, I'll tell Artemis you said that you loved me."
In an instant she almost transforms, eyes going big and round and watery as a tentative, hesitant expression forms on her face. "A-Artemis… I k-know I can be rude and mean, b-but it's just an emotional front to keep myself safe! B-But now t-that Argyra is l-letting down
her emotional walls, I finally f-feel like-"
She pauses, eyes wavering, and for just a second I can almost genuinely believe that she's a scared, hurt girl trying her best to confess her love.
My face is stony. It's not the first time she's done something like this.
After a moment, she morphs right back to a mocking smirk. "Oh c'mon, sourpuss, it was
funny. Lighten up a little, geez."
I don't think I've ever been more tempted to send a Moon Laser to wipe that stupid fucking smug look off her face.
"You're a fucking bitch, Rose."
"And yet you keep coming back to me." She smirks, arching her back like a cat, and unintentionally drawing my eyes to her… ahem,
assets.
She smirks at my attention. "I
do love being some poor sop's own personal heroin."
I snort derisively. "You are
vastly overestimating your sexual appeal. I do this because unlike most of the idiots at this school, you understand how to keep things casual. It has nothing to do with anything else."
She just smirks. "Of course. Whatever you say, dear."
"
Anyways," she says, flapping a hand towards the entrance, "there's the door, don't let it hit you on your way out, don't steal anything or I'll kill you, blah blah blah, you know the drill."
I storm out, slamming the door behind me. I can hear her mocking laughter ringing in my head all the way out of the building.
AN: How'd y'all all like Rose? I have a
lot of fun writing her.
Also, turns out that when you're a self-hating bi-girl-in-denial raised by a homophobic parent, and the only queer person you know is your best friend who you are head-over-heels for and more-than-slightly codependent with, who is a chronic fuckboy (gender neutral) whose partners you are intensely jealous of for reasons you don't understand, and who only seems to get more and more angry and unfulfilled the more women they casually sleep with, you end up developing some really weird and fucked-up ideas about sexuality! Who knew!
And Eri's inborn attraction to areas of narrative significance can be a curse just as much as a blessing. Not everything the universe thinks is important for your story is something that's good for you. There's a reason so many Greek heroes died young, after all.
