Flying through the air, like a graceful bird heading home, the warmth May felt permeated throughout her body… specifically her face. 

 

"He…he was so nice to me," she blushed. "Why can't I stop thinking about this demon? I…I used to feel it towards Marco, whatever I'm feeling…but that was so long ago. What's it called?" She flew in solitude, the warm night wind whipping her hair back as she flew far past Oliver's city. 

 

Follow your heart, May. 

 

"Follow my heart?" she asked the voice back.

 

If you follow your heart, I'll help you get what you want. 

 

May thought about what the voice was offering. "I don't even know what I want…"

 

You'll find out soon enough… 

 

May continued to fly upwards and onwards, heading towards her familiar home—the Overworld. 

 

Everything the Underworld was, the Overworld wasn't. 

 

Everything was pristine, white washed in cascading, luminescent milk marble. The streets, lamps, and even houses were ornamented with a brilliant gold, golden as the setting sun. As May landed, she neared her own home. 

 

She walked up to the door of her large home and opened it. "I'm home!" She yelled, stepping inside. 

 

An older woman, taller and more mature, but otherwise very similar looking to May, stepped out from the kitchen. "Oh! Welcome home, honey!" Her mom said. She gave her a hug and kissed her on the forehead. "How was your mission? Were you able to kill the demon?" 

 

May hesitated, avoiding her mom's eyes. "Oh… um, n-no." 

 

She raised her eyebrows. "Oh really?" 

 

"Yeah," May said, "they were able to beat us. They took Marco with them," she said with a new lack of emotion. 

 

Her mom, on the other hand, wasn't so emotionless. "And you just left him, May?!?" She cried. In reality, May didn't know how she felt about leaving Marco…but it wasn't too bad. "May, you're the daughter of two very strong angels, and you couldn't even defend Marco? Your fiance? You just left him there?!" She gave her a disappointed glare. 

 

"No, mom!" 

 

She was flustered. She had to tell her mom what she found out about the demons. "Mom, you don't understand! Those demons today—th-th-they were friendly! They—"

 

"Friendly?" She scoffed. "Honey, demons can't be friendly," she tried to explain nicely. "They don't even have emotions." 

 

"No, Mom, that's not true!" May cried, her face flushing. "Today I met a really, really nice—" 

 

"Hun," she interrupted, grabbing May’s face lovingly. "Demons don't act nice—they pretend to be nice, in order to gain your trust, so they can kill you." 

 

"But mom, he didnt!! He didn't kill me!!! He let me go!!! Don't you think that—?" 

 

"Enough, May!" She yelled. 

 

May froze. 

 

Her mother sighed. "I'm sorry, honey. I know it's hard." She gave her a hug. 

 

No… May thought. She's wrong… she doesn't understand… she hasn't met Oliver. 

 

Her mother pulled back from the embrace, squeezing May's shoulders. "May, you know you're gonna have to explain this to The Leader." 

 

"But mom—!"

 

"No buts," she said sternly. "You need to take responsibility for your actions, okay? So go. Right now." 

 

The words died on May’s lips. "Okay…" she said. 

 

She left her house as her mom told her to and tried to prepare to go face to face with The Leader. 

 

My mom thinks that demons are bad… just like all the other demons are bad… but she hasn't met Oliver. I…I think my mom is wrong…  

 

She walked in thoughtful silence until interrupted by a yell. "MAY?!" 

 

May turned around, looking for her caller. Then she spotted her. "D-Danica?!" 

 

They ran up to each other from across 2 different sidewalks, embracing and laughing.

 

"You're back from your mission!" Danica cried. 

 

 "Uh, y-yeah," she said. 

 

"So… how'd it go?!" She exclaimed. 

 

"Oh… not so well," she said with forced sadness. "We lost. The two demons took Marco as a hostage or something." 

 

Danica gaped. "You just let them take him?!" She cried. "May, you're so stupid! Don't you realize what you've done?? Those demons are probably torturing Marco right now!!!" 

"Hey man, want something?" 

 

Marco woke up unable to move. "Huh?!" 

 

Oliver pointed up at the menu. "I'm buying food," he explained slowly. "So, do you want something?" 

 

"WHAT THE HELL?!?"

 

Oliver looked around. "Not so loud, man. Everyone's already looking at us." 

 

Oliver stood in the fast food joint, with Marco sprawled on the floor and Marilyn slung over his shoulder, drooling. Oliver was shirtless. Marilyn wore Oliver's shirt, and nothing else. All three of them were covered in dirt and scratches. 

 

"I'LL KILL YOU, DEMON!!!" He screamed. 

 

The person in line behind Oliver inched towards the door. 

 

"Good luck with that, man—you're wearing a demon metal necklace. It immobilizes angels. Hell, you're lucky you can move your mouth." 

 

"What the hell?" Marco tried moving. He couldn't move anything under his neck. 

 

"So… you want something? I'm buying," Oliver said. 

 

Marco scowled. "Why would I want to eat something pigs like you eat?" He spat. 

 

"You sure? This shit tastes pretty good," he asked again. 

 

"NO, I DON'T WANT THAT CRAP!!!!" 

 

Oliver shrugged and turned to the cashier. "Okay…we'll take 3 large pepperoni pizzas and a 2-liter." 

 

The cashier stared at Oliver, especially interested in Marilyn and Marco. "Uh… will you be p-paying in cash or card, s-sir?" 

 

"Cash," he said, getting out his wallet. 

 

The cashier rang him up cautiously, wondering if he should call the police…before figuring he didn't get paid enough for this. 

 

15 minutes later, Oliver dragged Marco back to the front to get their pizzas to-go. He had to stack the boxes on Marilyn’s body in order to balance everything. He walked outside, ready to take everything home. 

 

"What are you gonna do with me?" Marco asked, dragged along the cold sidewalk. 

 

Oliver kept dragging, trekking in the direction of his apartment. "I don't know…I'm kinda new to this. Eat pizza?" 

 

"Oh, COME ON," he yelled. "YOU JUST GOT DONE KICKING MY ASS, AND NOW YOU WANNA EAT WITH ME???" 

 

"Yeah." 

 

"YOU REALIZE I TRIED TO KILL YOU?!" 

 

Oliver nodded. "Yeah. I know." 

 

He growled. "THEN WHY THE HELL DO YOU WANT TO EAT WITH ME?!"

 

He dragged him along. "Because," he said, "food always tastes better when you eat with someone else." 

 

Oliver's attitude bothered Marco in a way he didn't understand. "Demon…you're stupid." 

 

"Shut up, I bet you'll love pizza." 

"Marco could be dead right now, May!" Danica cried, "And you're just here!" 

 

"I…I don't think so," May said. She trusted Oliver when he said he wouldn't let his friend kill either of them…but what if—?

 

"May, they're demons!!! Of course they're gonna kill him!!!" 

 

"N-no!" She protested. "Th-there's good demons too, Danica! I met one!" 

 

She scoffed. Danica was more than used to May's overly trusting attitude. "Yeah, sure, May. Keep telling yourself that. One day that attitude is gonna leave you dead, stabbed in the back at the hands of a demon who you trusted too easily." 

 

Danica had to go, leaving May alone on the sidewalk. She looked down at her feet. 

 

"Wh-what does Danica know? If she had met Oliver, she'd understand…" 

 

She didn't have any time to think about it, though. She continued her way to The Leader's office. After a 30 minute walk, she stood in front of the giant building, a knot forming in her stomach. 

 

She hesitated, then opened the door. 

 

It was cold inside, despite the massive windows. In the center of the room, a receptionist sat at her counter, typing at a computer. May shuffled over. 

 

The woman looked up as May approached. "Uhm…" May said, "I'd l-like to speak to The Leader of the Angel Army, p-please." 

 

"Is it about a mission?" She asked. 

 

"Um, y-yeah…" 

 

She typed something on her keyboard, then scribbled something on a piece of paper. "Alright," she said. She pressed a button on her desk, sending a distant buzz somewhere. 

 

"Sir? There's a young girl here who wants to speak with you about a mission. Should I let her in?" 

 

May held her breath. 

 

"Yes, yes—let her in," the leader said. 

 

The woman looked at May. "You can go ahead in—he's on the 7th floor, all the way to the right." 

 

"Um, th-thank you," she said. 

 

She made her way to the elevator slowly as the rock in her stomach hardened. She pressed 7. The elevator doors shut, and up she went. She started to sweat. 

 

"I wonder what he's going to say…" May thought to herself.

 

DING 

 

The doors opened. 

 

She stepped out and turned right, making her way to The Leader's door. Her hand shook as she reached for the knob. She turned it slowly and poked her head inside. 

 

The Leader looked up. "Take a seat, May," he said. 

 

She entered timidly and sat in the big leather chair across from his desk. 

 

He finished polishing his desk ornament, then set it down and turned to May. He folded his hands. "Well, how did it go?" He asked. 

 

"Well, I-um, it was, um… it went…b-badly, actually. It d-d-didn't go too well…" she struggled to answer. 

 

"Oh?" 

 

"Y-yeah," she said, "the demon beat us, and took Marco with him." 

 

The Leader paused thoughtfully. "Hm. Well, Marco is an incredibly high rank: for a demon to even beat him is amazing, let alone take him as a hostage. Did you help Marco in his fight?" 

 

"Y-yeah. I froze the demons, but the one still managed to beat Marco." 

 

He cocked his head. "You used Angel's dust?" He asked. 

 

"Yes," she answered. 

 

He raised his eyebrows. Quietly, he said, "There is no way a demon could break free from that… it's impossible… it freezes demons to their core, slowing their heart to a mull. It even begins to freeze their brain, prohibiting them from thinking, let alone moving." 

 

May sat silently as The Leader turned it over in his head. "Was there something different about him, May? Something unique?" 

 

"Besides everything…" she muttered. Everything about him radiated an energy that she had never felt before, but she assumed that wasn't what The Leader meant. 

 

"Oh," she said, "his eye." 

 

"...what about his eye?" 

 

"I-it was black," she said, "and there was this black liquid coming out of it." 

 

He sat up, asking, "Wait, did it have a white pupil?" 

 

"Yeah," she said. "I-it was glowing." 

 

He ran a hand through his hair, standing. "I'm so sorry, May," he said abruptly, "I sent Marco to die…" 

 

"H-huh!?" She cried in confusion. 

 

He ignored her. "I was just about to send backup for him… but it's not worth it. He'll just slaughter them all…" 

 

He looked up and remembered May was there. 

 

"May, please go home. I need to make a few calls… Thank you for letting me know." 

 

She didn't know what was working up The Leader so much, but she got up to leave since it seemed urgent. As she hurried out the door, he watched the door shut behind her. Then pressed a button on his desk. 

 

"Angie?" He said. 

 

"Yes, sir?" A female voice responded. 

 

He spoke quietly and deliberately. "I need you to tell the gods that…" He lowered his voice. "That the Ruler of the Underworld has had a son." 

 

"A SON???" 

 

"Not so loud, Angie!" He hissed. 

 

"Sorry, sir," she said, trying to quiet the shake in her voice. 

 

"Go tell the high ranking gods, now!!!" He demanded. 

 

"Y-yes, sir! Right away!!" 

 

The Leader lifted his finger and collapsed into his chair. "Shit…" He said to himself, "I'm gonna be hearing a lot about this demon… I can tell." 

 

May, meanwhile, thought about The Leader's reaction to what she told him. "Oliver…" she said. 

The light from the hall poured into the dark apartment when Oliver opened the door. "We're home," he said. 

 

He set the pizzas on the coffee table, Marilyn on the couch, and Marco on the floor. He himself fell into the couch, exhausted. 

 

"You live here, demon?"

 

"Yep," he answered. He opened the pizza box, grabbed a slice, and turned on the TV, contentedly eating as he watched. 

 

Marco observed this for a few silent minutes with revulsion. 

 

"HEY, WHAT ABOUT ME?!" He screamed. 

 

Oliver kept chewing but looked over. "You said you didn't want anything." 

 

"NO, I MEAN ARE YOU REALLY JUST GOING TO EAT THAT SHIT AND STARE AT SOME STUPID BOX OF LIGHTS WITH ME JUST SITTING HERE!?!?" 

 

Oliver took another bite. "I mean," he said, "we have to wait until Marilyn wakes up, so she can open a portal to the Underworld. So, til then, I'll be eating pizza." 

 

He clenched his teeth. "SO I HAVE TO JUST SIT HERE AND WAIT?!?" 

 

"Pretty much," he said. "You want some pizza?" 

 

"NO!!!!" He roared. 

 

Another bite, followed by more silent chewing. "Why do you yell a lot?" 

 

"BECAUSE YOU MAKE ME MAD!!!!" 

 

"OLIVER, SHUT UP!!!" Marilyn yelled, woken up. 

 

"It's not me, it's Marco," he explained. 

 

Marilyn sat up on the couch, looking over at Marco. He grimaced and stared at the edge of the coffee table. 

 

"What's Marco doing here?" She asked.

 

"Aren't we gonna take him to the Underworld?" 

 

"What? No," she said. "I told you, we're gonna kill him." 

 

"No, Marilyn," Oliver said, "we're not gonna kill him." 

 

"Why not?!" 

 

"Because I don't want to!!" 

 

She pouted. "Come on, Oliver," Marilyn whined, "I don't wanna do the paperwork for this angel!" 

 

"I'll do the paperwork for you," he said. 

 

"Really?!"

 

"If that's what it takes, then yeah." 

 

"Alright then," she smiled, "we won't kill this angel." And with that, it was decided. Marco showed no sign of reaction.

 

Then, Marilyn's nose caught something. She noticed the delicious smell in the room, then saw Oliver eating his second slice of pizza. 

 

"Ooooh… Oliver, is that pizza?" She asked, staring at his hand. 

 

"Yeah." 

 

She was entranced. "I want pizza," she said, crawling over while never taking her eyes off of the slice. She took a bite right out of his pizza. 

 

"Marilyn, what the hell!? That was my slice!!" 

 

"Yummmmyyyyy^_^!!!!!!!!" She grinned.

 

He rolled his eyes and gave it to her. "Here—that's yours now." She took it while he grabbed another piece. Marilyn watched him.

 

"THERE'S MORE?!?" She cried. 

 

"Yeah, I bought 3 boxes." 

 

Marco had enough. "TAKE ME WHERE YOU GUYS HAVE TO TAKE ME, ALREADY!!!" 

 

She whipped her head at him. "No. We'll take you later," she said. 

 

"TAKE. ME. NOWWWW!!!!!!" 

 

Oliver and Marilyn gave each other a look. Then she got up. Marilyn took a slice of pizza from the box and walked over to Marco, crouching to his level. 

 

He shot his head up at her, glaring at her with steely eyes. "WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT, YOU F—" 

 

She stuffed the slice into his mouth. "Shut," she said. Oliver burst into laughter as Marilyn returned triumphantly to the couch. 

 

Marco chewed the pizza in his mouth slowly. Shit… this actually tastes good… 

 

Oliver noticed the expression on Marco’s face. "See, I told you you'd like it," he said. 

 

"What? No—this tastes like dog shit!!" he snapped. 

 

Oliver took a slice and waved it in front of Marco's face. "You sure it tastes like dog shit?" Marco's eyes followed the pizza as he started to salivate. 

 

Oliver grinned. 

 

"Whatcha drooling for, Marco?" 

 

"I'M NOT!" He snapped, wiping his mouth on his shoulder and trying desperately to look away from the pizza. He couldn't control it when he continued to drool. 

 

"Here—have a bite, Marco." 

 

He stared at it. He fought the urge…but he couldn't resist. He took a bite and chewed it indulgently. "Fine! It tastes good!!!!!" Marco yelled. 

 

"See?" Oliver said. 

 

While the three of them ate their pizza, Oliver noticed Marilyn was still wearing his shirt. "Hey, gimme back my shirt, Marilyn!" 

 

She looked up. "Huh? Oh. Okay." She started to peel it off. 

 

"SHIT, NEVERMIND!!!!!!" He screamed. "I'll go get something from my closet!!" 

 

He got up and walked to his room, shutting the door behind him. He opened his closet to look for a shirt, but almost everything was dirty. He kept rummaging into the depths until he accidentally grabbed something. 

 

Pulling it out, he saw that it was a red bow. He examined it. 

 

"When did I get this?" He asked himself. "...oh, wait, I remember—I got it when I was still with Erica. That was the day when—

 

And it all came back to him. 

 

…

 

Oliver examined the bow he picked out at the mall earlier that day. I know she's going to love it, he thought with a grin. She's gonna look so beautiful in this. 

 

His phone rang. He checked excitedly: it was Erica. He swiped like lightning. 

 

"Hey, Erica!" He said, "I was just about to see you." 

 

It was awkwardly silent on her end for a noticeable amount of time. "Maybe it's better that you didn't, then, Oliver… I—we need to talk," she said. 

 

"Huh? Oh, yeah, go for it," he said, looking at the bow. 

 

Silence for another uncomfortable amount of time. 

 

"Erica?" A pit started to form in his stomach. "What's up?" 

 

She exhaled after another long silence. "Oliver, look, it's…" she danced around it for longer than Oliver could stand. But he didn't want to push her—he had no idea what she was upset about. 

 

"It's over, Oliver." 

 

She mumbled so quietly, Oliver swore he misheard. "What?" He asked. 

 

"It's over, Oliver! We're done. Me and you. We're over." 

 

His mind blanked. He couldn't even form a cohesive thought. 

 

He could hear her annoyance on the other end. "Look, Oliver, I just…I can't anymore." 

 

"Can't what?" He asked. "Why? What happened to make you—what did I do?" 

 

"Look, it's…" her voice dropped. "I just need more, Oliver. I need more love. And you…you can't give that to me." 

 

It didn't seem real to him. "Can't…love you enough?" He held back from letting her hear him cry. "Erica, I've, I've been giving you everything I have!" He stared at the bow. 

 

"It's…it's not enough Oliver," she said. Oliver heard some sort of noise in the background of her phone. 

 

"Erica, look, we can work—" 

 

"I've gotta go, Oliver." 

 

Click. 

 

He sat. Sat in silent shock for longer than he knew. How did this happen? Should he have seen this coming? Weren't things just fine? 

 

But, more importantly…what did I do? Why…? Why did she…? 

 

Everything blurred together as he broke down. 

It was night. Late at night. The streets were mostly empty. So as Naomi scanned the area, it was easy to spot Oliver stumbling in the darkness. 

 

"Oliver!?" She cried. She ran over to him and he looked in her direction. 

 

"Naomi?" He slurred his speech. "Whatare you doinghere?" 

 

"We were supposed to meet up," she said absently, trying to evaluate the state he was in. "When you didn't show up, I…" She could tell he wasn't in his right mind. His eyes darted like a madman, and he couldn't stand straight. 

 

"Oliver…what happened? You're…you're a wreck!! You've…you've been drinking, haven't you? Or smoking…" 

 

He looked her in the eyes for the first time. They were red and filled with sadness. "Erica," he said, his voice cracking. "She… I… I loved her so much!" He broke into tears. "I-I loved her s-so much, and she just broke it off…" He cried. "For no reason." 

 

Naomi grabbed him, wrapping her arms around him. He sobbed on her shoulder for minutes. 

 

"I don't wanna say it, Oliver," she said as he cried, "but I tried to tell you." He didn't say anything, he just continued to cry. Naomi closed her eyes. "Don't worry, Oliver—she doesn't deserve a guy like you! You can do so much better, you're better off without her." 

 

"She's better off without me," he mumbled. 

 

Naomi took his shoulders and tried to look him in the eyes. "She's a bitch, Oliver. You deserve so much better!" 

 

"She…she was the one. And I had to go and screw that up…she's perfect—we were perfect. Now she's just perfect and I'm just…" He broke off into sobs again. 

 

Naomi couldn't take it. Tears started rolling down her face.  "Oliver, you c-can’t do this to yourself! It hurts to see you like this!!" 

 

Her voice caught his attention. "Wh-why are y-you crying?" He asked.

 

"Because I care about you, Oliver! And I can't stand seeing you like this!" She said. "What would your mom say if she saw you like this? High on whatever concoction your horrible friends gave you." She squeezed his shoulders. "Stop this, Oliver. Stop the drugs. You're not accomplishing anything but hurting yourself." 

 

"Drugs are all I have…" He said emptily. 

 

"No, Oliver—you have me. I'll always be here for you, no matter what happens." 

 

He thought silently. "R-really?" 

 

"Of course, Oliver! You know I-I love you," she said. 

 

He looked Naomi in the eyes. For the first time that night, he felt something other than heartache. "I love you too, Naomi." 

 

They hugged again. 

 

Naomi looked and noticed something in Oliver's hand. "What's that?" She asked. 

 

Oliver lifted it. It was the bow. "I got it for Erica…before—" 

 

Naomi grabbed his hand, cutting him off. With a gentle smile, she took the bow from his hand, looking it over. "It's beautiful," she said. Playfully, she put it up to her head. "What do you think? Does it look good on me?" 

 

He smiled. "Yeah, it does." 

 

…

 

Oliver looked at the bow again, back in his room. 

 

"Huh…I should've given Naomi the bow," he said. "Hey, May wears a bow…maybe she'll like it. I'll probably give it to her…if I ever see her again." 

 

End of chapter 12