BRIGHTON
My popularity is at stake, and with that, my power.
I’ve lost over one hundred thousand followers since we broke into Iron’s house last night, and as more people are waking up to the news about the Bounds, I’m expecting a bigger drop. I’m being tagged in all these INFINITY TRAITOR memes from Brightsiders who think I’ve betrayed their trust and ruined the perception of gleamcrafters, as if there was all love before I hit the scene. I’m exhausted because unlike these keyboard warriors, I’ve been out in the world making a difference while they criticize every move I make. I almost snap at them, but that never goes well.
I have to earn back their support.
I’m in the library, really tempted to close my eyes for even ten minutes on this table but I’m sure I’ll wake up to even more people dragging the Infinity Kings and Spell Walkers and Halo Knights since nuance doesn’t seem to be taught anywhere. No one is ever going to make me feel guilty for breaking the law to rescue my kidnapped mother. End of story.
It would be comforting to know my supporters are backing me up, but I think they’re being drowned out right now. It may be time to figure out how to make them feel more involved beyond reposting. I should grow a support network that’s inclusive of everyone whether they have the gleam or not. We need people working cameras to protect our image and others fighting criminals to protect our streets. This movement can start off nationally, then go global.
United, my factions of Brightsiders—got to keep my personal branding—will re-create the world.
Emil knocks on the door. “Hey, Bright,” he says softly.
I’m on edge, anticipating a confrontation. “No reports of criminal activity so far. If you want me to clear out so you and Wyatt can bunk up some more let me know. Or are you and Ness a thing now?”
Emil’s gaze is like he’s trying to calculate this himself. “Not a thing,” he says, then looking around the library. “We’ll see.”
“All right, well, today we absolutely have to film Ma and Eva so they can tell their side of the story. Do you think Ness would do a video too?”
“You’d have to ask him,” Emil says.
“He’d be stupid not to. An interview with a thought-to-be-dead presidential candidate’s son who got powers and joined a gang is not one people will ignore.”
“You heard the senator; he’s already got everyone thinking Ness is a liar,” Emil says.
“Iron’s story is the only one out there right now. That will change once we speak up.”
“Look, I came to talk to you about something else.”
“I’m not going to keep repeating myself on killing Stanton, bro. He’s powerful and had to be stopped. It’s not like I ripped out defenseless Luna’s heart.” Though I guess I killed her in my own way when I stole the Reaper’s Blood. I hope Maribelle has thrown Luna off that phoenix by now. “There are bigger threats at hand.”
“I’m scared you’re going to become one, Bright. I’m begging you to really hear me on this. The Starstifler is ready and I think you should drink one.”
He’s never going to let this go. I’m finally showing everyone what a true hero looks like and they’re so used to the sanitized versions in our generation that it scares them. This is why nothing has changed. “You had no problems with my powers when we were using them to break out Ness, but now that you’ve got what you want I’m a threat? You can’t have it both ways. This city needs me now more than ever. If this is too much for you, drink your potion and go figure out if you’re trying to screw Wyatt or Ness or yourself. I have real work to do.”
Whenever I lash out at Emil like this he’s usually tearing up or storming away, but he’s just standing there frozen. It’s like this life has finally made him numb.
I get up and pocket my phone. I’m not hanging around here while he feels bad for himself.
“Brighton?”
Before I finish turning Emil punches me so hard in the jaw that I bang straight into a bookcase; he’s finally cracked. He pins me down. I try phasing out from under him, but I’m stuck because of his hold on me. He pulls out a small knife, one of the ones from the kitchen, and my brother slices my forearm. I shout as Emil yanks my bloody flesh.
“What are you doing?!”
“This is for everyone’s own good!”
Emil runs for the door.
Everyone’s own good? What the hell does that—
No. I won’t let him.
I bite my tongue through the pain and dash toward Emil, grabbing him before he can even leave the library. He elbows my stomach and squeezes my new wound. It stings so much. I dash backward, dragging him with me, and I swing him on top of the table. I blast it in half with a fire-bolt and Emil caves in between the cracks.
“You’re not taking this from me!”
I hit him with a flurry of punches, so betrayed by my brother. This is different than every other fight we’ve ever been in. He has no business trying to force this change on me.
I’m suddenly thrown off of Emil and straight into the wall, banging into an art print of some green phoenix. I look up from the floor and Prudencia and Wyatt are both shocked to see me laying into Emil like that, but not as much as I am to see Emil also standing beside them, holding on to the arm of our horrified mother.
The Emil who’s sitting up glows gray. That bastard Ness was posing as my brother.
The real Emil stares like he doesn’t know me.