But Maybe We'll Live Forever

“So, what the fuck, Atomic?” were Party Poison’s first words as he pulled my to my feet practically by my hair mercilessly.

“Ow! Fuck- let go!” I was sobbing.

As if realizing what he’d just done to one of his own, he let go quickly, his face almost showing fear for a split second. His hard, piercing gaze softened by the tiniest bit, but only enough so that he didn’t look ready to kill me, just to severely injure.

“Party,” snapped Kobra, looking at him angrily. “Calm the fuck down. I know she’s being ridiculous, but there’s no need to hurt her.”

Party Poison’s eyes shifted over to Kobra Kid’s, holding his gaze for a moment. They seemed to have a silent conversation with just their eyes. The others – Fun Ghoul, Jet Star, and, much to my discomfort, Sunshine and Bulletproof Liberation – just sat there, looking patient and solemn, their unwavering eyes on the three of us.

“Atomic Battery,” Party Poison’s voice was disturbingly soft as he spoke. “I know you’re angry and hurt and afraid.”

I could tell he was straining to sound calm and not lunge at me with his raygun. He was succeeding well enough, but not enough for me to actually feel safe and not stiffen up every time he touched me.

Party Poison continued. “But if you would take the time to shut the fuck up and listen to anything we’ve been telling you, maybe you wouldn’t be so upset. Kobra Kid’s been trying to tell you what really happened, hasn’t he? Have you listened? At all? Or are you too wrapped up in the past?”

“You. Killed. Children.” I looked up at him through my messy hair, fire in my eyes.

Party Poison shut his eyes tightly. “We didn’t earn our reputation by going petty hate crimes against Better Living.” He was silent for a moment, but then he spoke again before I could voice my disgust. “Their screams still haunt me every time I close my eyes.” He opened them quickly, his eyes wild for a moment before they settled back on me.

The others looked down, averting their eyes. Even Fun Ghoul and Jet Star.

“If you won’t stay for us,” Party Poison said, shaking himself out of it, “stay for your brother.”

That shocked me. Who are they to tall about my brother? But at the same time, I knew they had a point. Rory would have never let me back out of this. And Rory had a reason for everything. Maybe, just maybe, there was a good reason for all of this. For being a Killjoy. Because Rory always had a good reason. Always. Always.

I closed my eyes. I had to think about this. I knew that I’d never look at them the same way again after what I’d learned. But what about Rory? The video he’d made me played through my head. I didn’t know what I’d do. Actually, yes, I did. But I didn’t want to say it out loud.

“…Fine,” I whispered, refusing to look at them. “I’ll stay. But I don’t like any of you. I was stupid to think you were anything more than what you are. Dirty, wild outlaws.”

I knew that Party wanted to make a comment about my brother then. “So your brother was wild and dirty, huh? Your hero that you love so much?” But he didn’t. And I was silently thankful for that.

“Alright,” Party said, his demeanor changing from angry negotiator to caring leader. “Then we should get started on our plan. How exactly do we attack Korse during his speech?”

As he spoke, I tuned out. I began thinking to myself about everything that had happened. Being taken from my apartment and thrown into the Killjoy car seemed like decades ago, but I knew it had only been some days. But I wasn’t exactly sure how many. Was it three days? Four? A week? Two weeks?

It seemed as though I’d lost myself through the course of this. All that was left was a confused splotch of color on a white sheet of paper. A color with no name, no reason, nothing. Just a color that was there, a color that no one seemed to use. Children wouldn’t pull this color out of their crayon box, because they’d look at it and think, “What a hideous color. Where’s the blue, where’s the purple? What IS this?” And they’d skip right over it. Skip right over me.

I was barely aware that the Killjoys had already formed a complete plan while I’d been thinking, and when they all stepped around me and began doing other things, I didn’t notice. I was only snapped out of my trance when Jet Star kneeled over me, pushing some of his unruly hair behind his ear as he asked if I was okay.

“Wha—oh, yeah, I’m fine.” My words sounded hollow and cold. I knew he wouldn’t buy it; no one was stupid enough to believe that after what had just happened that I’d be ‘fine.’

I was right. “Right. Come on, Shelby. Get up.” He extended his hand to me.

I didn’t take it at first, just stared at him. It took me a moment to realize what had been strange about what he’d said. Then it came to me: he’d used my real name. My name sounded foreign coming from his lips.

It took me a moment to process he was helping me up, but by the time I had, I was already standing and he was letting go of my arm.

“You called me Shelby,” I said quietly, staring at him.

“I suppose I did.” He smiled at me. “Someone always needs something familiar once in a while. I know you’ve decided to hate us, but I’m going to do my best to change your mind. We’re not who you think we are. We’re not even close.” He smile turned to a look of wishing, of hope.

He let go of me and left the room.