Author's Note:

Well hello, I suppose. Its been a long time since I last wrote anything for fanfiction. To be honest, I had started writing this chapter back in September 2017 and actually had most of the chapter done by November 2017. But I found myself struggling to write the rest of the first scene and the confrontation scene. It took eight months before I could finally put pen to paper and finish the chapter.

Anyway, I will give a quick run down on the story. This story will contain long chapters (from 8k to 20k words for each chapter) and is projected to be about 20 to 30 chapters long. I can not promise a fixed update schedule, but expect updates to happen every 4 to 6 weeks at best.

The story will mainly focus on Chat and Ladybug having to deal with a major moral decision/situation, dealing with a change in Hawk Moth's tactics, and keeping an eye on the akumatized civilian whose life lies in their hands. The OC will not take the forefront of the story, rather, he is simply the tool I needed in order to create the major conflict in this story.

There will be romance (slow burn for our two heroes), comedy, angst, tragedy, and action. Oh, and plenty of Shakespeare and dorky references.

Translations for foreign words or phrases will be found at the end of each chapter.

Also, I'd like to thank my Beta, Texas Variety Katie-Bug, for dealing with my bullshit the past year and helping me slog through the the longest chapter I have ever written thus far. You kick ass and make for an excellent editor.

TL:DR

This story will be long, will take time to put out quality updates, is about the heroes not the OC, chapter titles are songs relevant to each chapter, and I love my Beta.

Heart Decisions: Mon Cœur S'ouvre a ta Voix

Ch. 1: Midnight Crusade

Sprinting, leaping, and swinging across the rooftops of the 1st Arrondissement, Ladybug only has one thought on her mind as she makes her way to meet Chat for patrol.

'It's 1 degree Celsius, I'm wearing a thin, nearly indestructible spandex suit bonded to my skin, it's only the second week of January, and it's pretty damn windy… how the hell am I not freezing?!'

Actually, make that two thoughts.

'I'm sooo tired and my everything is sore! Ergh! Why did I even tell Chat we should patrol tonight?! Today's akuma was definitely the most killer one we've fought in almost a month!'

A few buildings ahead of her, Ladybug saw the vacant rooftop where the two heroes always met for patrol. She noted the absence of a certain tomcat as she approached her destination.

'Looks like Chat's not here yet.'

Ladybug leaned back against a chimney, crossing her arms and shivering in delight and relief as the cool bricks eased her sore back. However, such blissful relief also brought up a rather painful and embarrassing memory of an incident that occurred that afternoon, involving a certain blonde cinnamon bun. Ladybug blushed, covering her face with her hands as she let out a groan.

Cue Flashback…

Marinette walked as carefully and steadily as possible through the stampede of students leaving the classroom she had her next class in. She let out a tiny yelp when she felt a stray elbow dig into her back as its owner roughly passed her, bullying their way out of the class.

The fight she had against that akuma no more than forty minutes ago had left her undeniably exhausted and with a very sore and bruised back.

The akuma, who referred to himself as Al Dente, had materialized a giant shell of conchiglie and smacked Chat Noir into Ladybug, in response to a particularly shitty pun Chat made at the time. The two heroes were sent flying into the building behind them, but it was Ladybug's back that took the brunt of the impact.

Marinette hobbled over to her seat, taking extra care to not let her back make unwanted contact with the moving throng of peers finding their seats. Marinette let out a hiss as a particularly sore spot flared in pain upon bending down to put her bag beside her seat. She stood up and tried to reach the protesting knot with her hand in an attempt to massage it loose.

Unaware and entirely focused on her goal to relieve the knot, Marinette struggled to effectively reach the pained area on her mid-back. It was to be expected that she'd be extremely surprised when she felt a hand brush past hers and rub the offending area in delightful circular and kneading motions.

What she did not expect was the soft, almost suggestive, moan that slipped from her lips from pleasant relief. Nor did she expect to see Adrien Freaking Agrest standing behind her when she quickly twisted around to find the source of her relief, his fist where her back once was and cheeks lightly tinted pink (a result of Marinette's almost lewd moan, a sound Adrien never thought he'd ever hear Marinette, one of his best friends, ever make, let alone that he'd be the one to cause her to make such a sound).

"You, uh… um… you looked like you were very uncomfortable and needed some help… um… sorry if I overstepped my boundaries."

Back to the Present…

Of course, what else could Marinette do when she finds herself in such a situation with her sweet, angelic, best friend/crush of almost two years, besides becoming a gooey uncontrollably stuttering puddle of embarrassment?

She had made sure she avoided Adrien all day, as she knew that there would be no way she could thank him for his help or play off that-that moan that he caused. That his wonderfully perfect hands, hands with long, deft fingers that flew over piano keys when he played and made sound itself weave and bend to his will, caused.

'I'd let those fingers play me anytime…'

Her blush deepened.

Ladybug shook her head violently in an effort to shake those thoughts, the afternoon, Adrien, his hands, and her perverted fantasies from her mind.

'You're Ladybug right now! Not Marinette! You're on the clock right now! Speaking of which…'

"Where is that damn cat?!"

"Right here, My Lady." Chat purred in reply as he dropped down beside Ladybug.

Ladybug's eye twitched in annoyance.

Pushing herself off the chimney, Ladybug turned to face Chat, her face stern.

"Sorry about the wait, Bug. Kinda had to deal with some… inconveniences at home…"

Chat let out a soft, unconvincing chuckle, purposefully avoiding Ladybug's eyes as he rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

Hearing this, Ladybug's expression softened.

She had a fairly good idea as to what Chat meant by "inconveniences."

A year ago, one night as she was walking home from dinner at Alya's house, Marinette had happened upon a sobbing Chat Noir in an alleyway. She called his name in concern and surprise, and Chat had jumped to his feet in surprise, quickly rubbing at his eyes and cheeks to rid his face of any evidence. Chat, of course, denied any and all inquiries Marinette made as to whether there was something wrong. Instead, he insisted that he'd escort her home. Right before he left, Marinette told Chat she'd always be willing to lend an ear, and wouldn't mind if Chat ever wanted to drop by to talk or something.

Following that night, Chat began to drop by Marinette's balcony nearly every other night. They'd spend a couple of hours (sometimes more) talking about anything and everything, playing video games, working on coursework (or rather Chat would help Marinette understand her homework and prevent her from tearing it to shreds), and just enjoying each other's company.

However, it was only six months ago when Chat showed up on her balcony, looking like a complete utter mess. Upon entering her room, Chat broke down into wretched sobs, telling Marinette between choked sobs and gasps for air how his father was a cold, inconsiderate, uncaring, controlling son of a bitch who did whatever was necessary in order to benefit his business and himself.

Chat told her how he couldn't even do anything unless his father approves of it. How his father saw Chat's friends as nothing more than inconveniences and blights on their reputations. Fun and relationships nought but frivalties, wastes of time, and weaknesses. His father had control over his life, and did anything he had to in order to gain control over anything he didn't previously have control of. It was his father's philosophy.

Control is power. Power is success. Success is money. Money is security. Security. Is. Control.

Chat's broken voice and harrowing accounts of neglect and dismissal had echoed hauntingly within her, vile disgust and nausea twisted centrifugally in her gut. She was unable to stop herself (not that she would have, had she the desire to) from scooping the hurting teen into a tight hug and whisper words of comfort, reassurance, and support for hours until Chat finally calmed himself.

He apologized for dumping his problems onto her, to which she angrily declared he had no right to apologize as she had told him before that she didn't mind at all. She also may have threatened to declaw him with her sewing shears if he withheld from her any incidents related to his father whenever he visited.

From then on, Chat, out of both gratitude and a newfound fear of the aspiring designer's fury, never hesitated to tell her about any recent or past abuse and dismissal he endured from his father whenever he visited.

She had no doubt this "inconvenience" was Chat's father.

"How's your back? You took the worst of that hit earlier." Chat said.

"Pretty sore. Can't say I look forward to taking the metro during the lunch rush anytime soon." She rolled her shoulders before gesturing to Chat's right arm. "How about you? How's your shoulder?"

"It's purr-fectly fine, My Lady. Nothing can keep this cat down. However," Chat leaned a little towards her, "a massage would certainly do wonders for your pain." He grinned.

Ladybug scoffed and put her index finger on the tip of his nose. She pushed a cross eyed Chat back.

"Ok, down kitty. We still have to patrol and it's been a long day for the both of us. I'd like to see my bed as soon a possible."

Chat stepped back and rubbed his nose.

"Of course, please excuse me." He bowed and gestured to the roof ledge like a Disney prince. "After you, My Lady."

Ladybug rolled her eyes in tired amusement.

"Dork."

She tossed her yoyo and leapt off the roof, Chat Noir following close behind with a pole vault. The two heroes began their patrol through Paris's spiralling network of arrondissements.

"You're done."

The words were like liquid nitrogen pouring down his back. He stopped abruptly, his brisk walk through the cool night streets of Paris forgotten, phone in hand by his ear, frozen by the words. A look of horror slowly flowed over the young man's face, marring his once expressionless countenance. His tanned skin paled, his mouth opened as he attempted to formulate a response.

"F-father? Wha-"

"You've been failing in your studies, you refuse to show me your grades, you don't call or answer my or anyone's calls for days – weeks – at a time, you chose to study away from home and then decide you want to study abroad in an entirely different country whose language you can barely speak without telling us first. That's it. You're done."

"But I can do this! I just need to –"

"ALEXANDER FRANCISCO JORGE BRILLACUERVO, I SAID YOU'RE DONE!"

Alexander flinched.

Across the pond, his father sighed into the phone, leaning back into the driver's seat of his 2012 Mercedes E350 parked in his Downtown Miami office garage.

"Ander, Cuervito, mijito, tell me – what did I do wrong?! What did I do wrong?! I gave you everything! I gave you an education, food, clothes, money! Was that not enough?! I work hard not because I want to, but so that I can support and provide for you, because I love you! And what do you do?! You throw it all away!"

Alexander fell to his right knee. He quickly tapped the mute button on his phone, muting himself. His head swam, pain like molten iron flowed through the veins in his head. Nails hammered into his skull. His forehead felt like it weighed hundreds of thousands of kilograms. His tongue was heavy, dry, and tasted of blood or some metal. Swallowing was difficult. His hands shook as they rapidly patted every pocket on his person.

His carnelian eyes darted in every direction, desperation and panic as crushing realization set in.

The pills had worn off. He had left the bottle in his room.

~Hey asshole! Guess who's fucking back! Hehehehe~



Alexander's breathing became ragged gasping. His heart pounded as hard as his head. He fisted the fabric of his polyester shell jacket.

'It should have lasted! I am sure I had another two hours left!'



—Hmph... mira aqui guey, seems like your already screwed up brain screwed up your memory too. Not like some painkillers and pills can keep us out for long.—



*Yes. Why bother blocking us out with the pills anyway? You know we'll never go away, yet you depend on a handful of drugs every eight hours. Don't even bother telling your doctor or your parents about us 'cause they'll never understand. They weren't cursed, eternally damned by your so beloved deity.*

/Give up already... why should you even care about being sane? No one else cares, especially for a disappointment like you, so why should you give a damn!?/

~Hehehe, you tell 'im Liber! Huh? Where's Kairosclerosis that fucking nerdy joy surgeon? Oi! Kai! You're awfully quiet! C'mon tear this insignificant little git apart! I have a feeling we might just finally send him over the edge tonight! Hehehe~

Alexander bit down on his right index finger, heavy calluses and numerous scars shaped like bite marks surrounded the digit's first joint above the knuckle. Tears welled in his unfocused eyes, a muffled groan slipped from his throat as he attempted to ignore his tormentors and the deep traumatic emotional pain they cause.

;I see no reason why I should speak Pâro. There is nothing to analyze, nothing to reason, nothing that requires the use of intellect to dissect. It would simply be a waste of an already wasteful intellect and energy. Besides, Altschmerz, Exulansis, and Liberosis said what I would had said if I were needed. And what of you, Pâro? All you have done was insult and laugh at the Meat Bag.;



"Shut up." Alexander croaked, tears blurred his vision as he glared at the cold hard concrete of the sidewalk. "Please, just shut up!"

~Meh, not really feeling it. Besides, the old Goat Face is doing it for me anyway. Speaking of which... Oi! Worm Shit! Your Goat Faced old man is still talking! It sounds pretty interesting to me!~



Alexander glanced at the abandoned phone that lay on the sidewalk, dropped in his panic.

He picked it up, composing himself before unmuting himself.

"–ast chance! This is your last chance! I'm giving you two options: either you withdraw from the university and come back home, or I will call the school and tell them to cancel your enrollment. I would freeze your assets, and you will have to find work there in Paris to pay me back for the tuition money you wasted the past year and a half. Clearly you don't fucking care about anything, so I am going to give you a chance to care about something. I expect an answer within the month. Decide."

His father ended the call, throwing the phone onto the passenger chair. He took off his glasses and wiped the tears from his eyes.

Back in Paris, Alexander was shell shocked. His father gave him two choices. Come home and leave this wonderful city behind. Or be disowned until he could pay back his father for the money wasted.

The last option echoed within him.

Disowned.

The word broke something inside him. Fresh tears fell, the cold winter air made the salty contact bite his already frozen cheeks.

Disowned.

His reward in attempting to make his father proud.

Before he knew it, his mouth opened and the words came pouring out without notice or restraint.

"All I did was follow my heart like you told me! You always told me to follow my heart, ever since I was but a toddler! My heart told me to do whatever it took to make you proud of me! I focused on my academics to make you proud! I chose to major in mechanical engineering because I knew it would make you proud! I chose to go to one of the top engineering schools in the U.S. because you were proud I was accepted by them! I chose to study abroad in Paris because I knew you'd be proud of the fact that I could take care of myself! I haven't done anything for myself at any point in my 20 years of existence. And how am I rewarded?! With the option of abandoning all that I've worked so hard for or be disowned and abandoned in a different country across the damned pond until I can pay back 252,000 fucking U.S. dollars! All because I wasn't able to think fast enough, be smart enough, to be able to keep up with my peers. All because of these cursed voices in my head. All because I'm useless screwed up waste of space. All because I followed my fucking heart!"

Alexander let out an anguished cry. It was like a cry of impending death, filled with insurmountable pain, anger, soulful sorrow. He fell back onto the cold sidewalk, laying there on his back, gazing up at the stars and full moon that lit the midnight Paris sky.

His right hand clutched the nylon pouch at his hip with desperation. His left hand grasped the fabric of his smoky grey jacket that covered the area above his heart in a fist.

"O that this too too sullied flesh would melt,

Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew,

Or that the Everlasting had not fixed

His canon 'gainst self-slaughter. O God, O God,

How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable

Seem to me all the uses of this world!"

Alexander finished the quote in a whisper, his characteristically smooth baritone cracked as he snarled the final line.

*Ah yes. Shakespeare's Hamlet. Our favorite. Such a fitting quote right now, is it not? To describe how it feels for the world to be meaningless now that all you held dear has been destroyed, spat on, and defiled. No one else could possibly understand the sweet sorrow you feel.*

/Just do it already! The only thing holding you back are those stupid beliefs of yours and your adherence to your damned Catholic faith. At this point, why should you even care?! It can all be over quickly if you dropped them and open that damn pouch already!/

;Peculiar is it not? That you can relate to Hamlet? After all, both him and you are sorrowful, full of anger, and undeniably not alright in the mind. Hamlet had the ghost of his father. You have us. His father was a guide. We...are something else.;

—To be disowned… a tempting thought… brought about by your uselessness, your stupidity, your incompetence, and your insignificance… every waking moment would simply be another waste of breath, another waste of time, another waste of energy, filled with the constant reminder that you are a failure, a speck of dust in the current of life… wouldn't it be better to just end it? After all… Hell is a state of existence… and it's about to get worse...—

~HAHAHAHA! It doesn't matter what you choose! It's going to be wrong anyway! Just like everything you've ever done! Fuck, it's especially hilarious 'cause suicide would still be a wrong action, 'cause nothing you could ever possibly do be right! Hahahaha! You piece of shit! Can you see?! No matter what you do, you can't ever escape your worthlessness! Your insignificance! HELL, EVEN THE WAY YOU WERE CONCEIVED WAS A FUCKING MISTAKE! HAHAHAHA!~

"SHUT UP! SHUT UP!" Alexander yelled, covering his ears with his hands and curling up on his side into a fetal position. The truth behind Pâro's last statement stung more than Alexander could possibly physically express. "SHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTTHEFUCKUP!" His yelling devolved into desperate, nearly primal growling.

The collection of voices roared in demonic laughter, filling and deafening the torrential chaos of Alexander's mind and soul, indiscernible and evil. His mind now the Devil's domain, and his pained cries now the pleading wails of the damned, echoing the empty streets of Trocadéro.

Miles away from Trocadéro, a man stands before a stained glass window depicting a butterfly, a cane in hand. Moonlight leaked into the immense loft as the mechanized panels pulled away from the outside of the window pane, illuminating the elegantly and well dressed man. Butterflies as white as snow fluttered about the man, parting a path of open space as the man took a step forward, revealing the masked features of Paris's resident super villain.

Hawk Moth.

"Such pain and anger, such raw feelings of rejection and betrayal… Yes… he will make a very formidable and fine vessel for my akuma"

His cowl shifted to match his pleased expression. He held out a hand, palm up, upon which a lone blanc butterfly settled into a landing. Placing his other hand above the butterfly, he transferred the evil and abilities necessary for the akuma butterfly to posses the intended victim. Pulling his hand away, the now black akuma flapped its wings.

"Go. Go forth my little akuma, fill this man's heart with evil, and bring me Ladybug and Chat Noir's Miraculouses!"

The akuma took off, fluttering through the opening in the large window, it's destination the grief stricken American lying on an empty Trocadéro street.

Ladybug and Chat Noir landed atop a rooftop of a building beside the Seine. They had already swept through fifteen of Paris's sixteen arrondissements. The 16th arrondissement was all that remained for the night's patrol. Aware that their patrol was nearly over, the two heroes decided to take a quick break to stretch and catch their breath before continuing the last leg of their rounds.

"Mon dieu! I am exhausted! I just want to sleep and stay in bed all day tomorrow! Unfortunately, the educational institution that imprisons me to societal expectations and future career excellence and success, requires my conscientious effort and presence in both body and mind…"

Chat shot a Cheshire grin at Ladybug, amused by her lamenting.

"Oh my… could it possibly be that my Ladybug is actually a bed bug?!"

Chat gave a light chuckle, hoisting his baton behind his neck and hanging his arms on either end of the extended baton.

Ladybug snapped her head back, releasing a loud, guttural groan of exasperation at Chat's pun. She palmed her face, dragging her hand down and stretching her features.

"Chat… please… Not now…Wasn't the fight this afternoon enough to fill your pun quota for today?!"

Early that Afternoon:

"Lucky Charm!"

An enormous meter long, red and black spotted fork fell into Ladybug's arms. The unexpected, jarring weight threw the heroine off balance, she stumbled for a second before regaining her bearings.

"A giant fork?! What am I supposed to do with this?! Eat my way to victory?!"

"Penne for your thoughts?"

"...This is bullshit..."

"Pasta-bly... I think you're just getting mad fusilli risoni-ngs"

"Uuuuuuuuuugh... that was three in one, and that last one was a stretch."

"Orzo you think."

"Ugh..."

"Basta!" The large akumatized Italian bellowed in annoyance as he swung his insanely long whip of spaghetti at the pun loving hero with a cat motif.

"My Italian is a bit rusty, but don't you mean pasta?"

Chat quipped with a grin, sidestepping the weaponized spaghetti. Glancing back and forth between the akumatized pasta maker and the spaghetti whip, Chat's face lit up as an idea began to form in his mind.

"My Lady! I think I have the answer!"

Chat took the fork from her arms, running toward the akuma.

The akuma lashed out with the spaghetti whip once more, but Chat caught the spaghetti between the teeth of the fork. Without a second to spare, he rapidly twirled the fork, causing the giant strands of spaghetti to wrap around the fork.

"Hey you should be careful with how much spaghetti you put on your fork (or in your mouth?). Too much conchiglie (A/N: pronounced: con-kee-lee-er. Used here to say "Can Kill Yer/You")."

"That last pun was was just painful, minou!"

They succeeded in cleansing the rather stupidly ridiculous, yet disturbingly difficult, akuma; Marinette just wished they had done it without all of Chat's pasta and Italian puns, preferably without having been slammed into a building. She's not sure how much longer she has before she snaps from Chat's extensive use of crappy puns.

"Awww, Bug! You should know by now that I have no quota! You buy what the store sells!" Chat smugly grinned, wagging a finger at Ladybug.

She rolled her eyes.

"Sorry to tell you this, Chaton, but this bug would like to make a return."

"Sorry! No refunds! Only store credit!"

Ladybug opened her mouth, ready to retort, but her intended words were forgotten as loud, desperate, distant cries and yelling pierced the silence of the night.

In that instant, all playful banter was forgotten as the the two heroes shared a quick knowing look. They lept off the roof, hero mindsets in place and operating at 100 percent efficiency, using their respective tools/weapons to rush to the source of the distressed crying and yelling.

Looks like their hopes for a peaceful and uneventful patrol could definitely be forgotten. Waking up in the morning was going to suck.

The akuma had spotted Alexander crying in agony on the sidewalk in front of a closed book store. The akuma hovered in place, attempting to find the item that served as a conduit for its victim's anguish and negative emotion. It all took but a second for the akuma to determine where and what the item was. Without hesitation, the akuma dove down onto its prey from behind, phasing through Alexander's jacket and the various layers under it.

Black and purple magic bubbled up Alexander's still crying form, changing his outfit as they passed.

Purple Converse high tops became brown leather high top street boots, black American Rag jeans now a pair of grey khaki like pants, Armani sweaters and long sleeves now a single charcoal split neck crew long sleeve shirt, the Columbia grey polyester shell jacket now replaced by a black hooded leather bomber jacket with a rib knit standing collar. Around his neck, Alexander now wore a charcoal knitted wool scarf.

Throughout the entire process, Alexander remained completely unaware of his non-consensual wardrobe switch and akumatization, as well as how quiet his mind suddenly became.

Alexander's cries died, fading into the void of hopelessness and despair.

He was easy prey now.

"How unfortunate."



Alexander stiffened, shocked by the presence of the new voice. He feared the worst; that a new tormentor had made itself at home within his mind.

"Your father, disappointed by your lack of performance in your studies, ignorant of your depression and inability to keep up with your peers, has told you to decide between one of the two choices he gave: either leave all this behind and return home, or to be essentially disowned until you can pay back the money your father spent for your education. A very hard decision indeed. All you had done was follow your heart, with the pure intention to make your beloved father proud. Now he gives you two choices, yet your heart does not know what to choose to make him proud. A heart decision indeed..."



Alexander grit his teeth.

"Angels and ministers of grace defend us!

Be thou a spirit of health or goblin damned,

Bring with thee airs from heaven or blasts from hell,

Be thy intents wicked or charitable,

Thou com'st in such a questionable shape

That I will speak to thee." Alexander quoted, waiting to see what this new addition would bring to his eternally damned life.

"Ah, a liking for Shakespeare I see. How quaint. I'll humor you. I am neither a 'spirit of health or goblin damned' so to speak, merely someone willing to help you get what you want in exchange for something I want. I am Hawk Moth, and from now on you will be Heart Decision. You will–"



~Oi! Who the fuck is this jackass?! What the fuck is going on here?! And why in the name of all that is unholy is there a fucking black mariposa in the Worm Shit's body?! It's trying to send some black purplely shit our way!~

"What?! What is this?! Who is this?! How?!"



Hawk Moth was surprised. He had no idea how he could be heard by someone else, let alone hear someone else from Alexander's end.

;I would like to know as well. This all seems very illogical. Even for a schizophrenic Meat Bag.;



Hawk Moth furrowed his brow at the new voice, intrigued by what it had said.

"Schizophrenic?"

—It would appear we have an unwanted visitor… figures it would be someone nearly as woefully incompetent as the insignifiant guey…—

"Incompetent?! You-! How dare you?! Tell me who you are! Where are you?! What are you?!"

*Figures he wouldn't understand… nor can he seem to grasp what is currently happening, despite being given a major clue.*

/How dare we? We dare cause we don't give a shit. You can't do shit to us!/

~Hahahaha… This jackass can't even figure it out for himself! Oi, dipshit! The guy you're trying to-to… eh – trying to do fucking whatever it is you're trying to fucking do, fuckin' I don't know – this Worm Shit is a schizophrenic.~

;We are his hallucinations, constructs of the Meat Bag's mind, created from fragments of his perception of his life and emotions, yet we are very real, confined to his head. We simply reveal the truth about himself, the people around him, and the world… unfortunately his uselessness has made it so he wishes to believe the lies he wants to hear. He is worthless. Insignificant. A mistake. The happiness he wishes for is but a fleeting biochemical reaction in the body. Nothing more…nothing less…;

—As for who… I am Altschmerz.—

*Exulansis.*

/I don't really give a shit, but I'm Liberosis. Kai would've just given me hell otherwise.../

;Kairosclerosis.;

~Hehehehe… And I'm Pâro! The greatest and oldest here in this fucking dump! I was the first one the Worm Shit met!~

Hawk Moth was absolutely gobsmacked. He had akumatized a hurting young man, without any prior knowledge that the man was a schizophrenic, and now he was conversing with the man's schizophrenic hallucinations. Hallucinations that were surprisingly clear, vocal, and the level of intelligence they displayed made them seem like they were their own independent entities. Like they were human.

But, what really confused him were their names – particularly as to why they even possessed names – and why he could communicate with them.

"If you are hallucinations, why do you possess names? How is it that I can hear you? How can you hear me?"

—The guey named us. He took words that described each of us from Koenig's Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows and used those to differentiate us from each other.—

~Hehehehe… Surprisingly, he gave us pretty fitting names. I quite fucking like mine. I guess that that has been the only thing the Worm Shit has ever done right! Hahahaha!~

;As for why you can hear us and vice versa, I'm not very sure how this can be possible. It is very illogical.;

Whilst the voices and Hawk Moth were talking, Alexander had shot to his feet, pacing to and fro rapidly, yelling and cursing in every language he knew.

"FANCULO! MERDE! COÑO! SCHEISSE! CAZZO! FUCKING MERDA!"

He made a motion to grip his hair in frustration, eyes widening when his hands touched leather instead of hair.

He quickly turned to face the small book store next to him. He stood there, motionlessly, silent, shocked by the man he saw in the reflection of the shop windows.

A reflection.

His reflection.

"Oh… fuck…"

He took note of the new clothes and the wispy pink-purple butterfly shaped...thing that floated over his face. It flickered weakly, its color dark, yet faded and ominous.

"ARGHHHHH!"

Alexander threw his hands in the air, pacing once more.

"GREAT! JUST MOTHERFUCKING CUCKING GREAT! AS IF TONIGHT WASN'T ALREADY SHITTY ENOUGH, NOT ONLY DO I GET ANOTHER VOICE IN MY HEAD, BUT NOW I'M STARTING TO HAVE VISUAL AND EVEN MORE TACTILE HALLUCINATIONS!"

Alexander stopped, turning his head upwards.

"AS IF THE FIVE OTHER JACKASSES, THE PHANTOM PAINS, THE SHITTY FATHER-SON RELATIONSHIP, THE NON-EXISTENT CONTROL OVER MY OWN LIFE, AND THE LOSS OF MY STARDUST WEREN'T ENOUGH?! IS THAT RIGHT?! OR ARE YOU JUST TRYING TO TELL ME THAT IT'S MY FUCKING TIME?! WELL WHY DON'T YOU JUST TELL ME INSTEAD OF BEING SO FUCKING CRYPTIC YOU OMNISCIENT ASSHOLE!"

The sound of two pairs of feet hitting the ground behind him made Alexander freeze.

Ten Minutes Prior…

Chat Noir and Ladybug had been following the cries for almost five minutes, hoping to reach the source in time to help.

It was only natural for the two to feel a sense of increased dread and worry when the cries had suddenly cut off. Increasing their pace, they continued in the direction of the distress, coming to a stop atop a rooftop when they heard yelling below them.

Peering over the edge of the building, the two heroes saw a person in a hooded black leather jacket and smoke grey pants pacing whilst cursing loudly.

Chat's cheeks flushed a light pink from the very colorful and imaginative vocabulary. He was impressed by how well versed the person was with the use and knowledge of the vulgarities of the Italian, French, German, English, and Spanish languages. However, he didn't let that distract him from trying to find the source of the crying from earlier.

Ladybug nudged Chat in the ribs, directing his attention toward the person who had stopped pacing, his hands touching his hood.

Chat turned to look at Ladybug, wearing a confused expression, silently questioning why she had elbowed him. But Ladybug paid him no attention, eyes on the mysterious person on the sidewalk across the street from their perch.

The person turned, facing the shop beside them. Their reflection, though clear as day for them, even at this time late at night, was somewhat shrouded in darkness from Ladybug's point of vision. Everything reflected hidden in the shadows except for a light fuschia glow.

Ladybug gasped, prompting Chat to look back at the person below, eyes narrowing when he saw what was reflected in the shop windows.

A purple butterfly projection.

Hawk Moth.

An akuma.

Chat started to move, ready to leap off the roof, but he was stopped by Ladybug, who had grabbed hold of his faux tail. She jerked the belt back, forcing Chat to stumble and land on his rear.

Chat looked at her in urgency, ready to question her once more when a thought occurred to him.

'Of course… since the akuma hasn't noticed us yet, we have the advantage. She wants to find out where the akuma is, what is the thing we need to break, making this a quick cleanse. Something I think we both want right now after today's fight.'

Chat silently winced as his shoulder throbbed in pain. He grit his teeth, resisting the urge to massage his aching shoulder.

Ladybug's eyes narrowed, scanning the person for the possessed item.

'Where is it? What could it be? Ugh…' Her eye twitched from the heavy stress and focus she maintained. 'I can't really tell what it can possibly be if all I can see is his back-'

The person shouted and threw their hands in the air, turning away from the shop quickly. Ladybug and Chat scrambled back, a meter away from the edge of the roof, taking defensive stances thinking they've been spotted by the akuma.

However, rather than hearing demands for their Miraculouses, they heard the akuma cursing and shouting in a mixture of English and French (slipping in and out of Standard and Parisian French).

Though Chat understood everything the person shouted, Ladybug could only pick out something about a voice (or possibly voices? His accent was a bit thick and made it difficult to tell if it was plural or not, especially with how quickly he spoke.) in their head, and something about hallucinations.

Uncertainty filled the air like a thick fog. Something– no – everything was wrong.

Why wasn't the akuma speaking to Hawk Moth? Why were they just shouting at sky? Why weren't they screaming about the Miraculouses and revenge or something? Why weren't they wearing some ridiculous costume?

Regardless of whether or not the current situation was outside the norm in regards to akumas, one thing was for certain.

A mystery stood five stories down and across the street.

And they were going to get to the bottom of it.

When he had heard the two thuds behind him, Alexander instantly knew who that could possibly be.

He wasn't a complete idiot. After all, living in Paris for a little over a year would certainly present him the chance to have seen or heard of its two resident superheroes. And with his habit of taking long night walks through Paris (on an almost nightly basis), it's really no wonder he'd have figured that the two patrol on some nights; he's seen them leaping over rooftops a handful of times.

Right now though, he was wishing that the two heroes would just go away and let him have his meltdown in peace.

Alexander sighed, shoulders slumping forward.

"Ladybug. Chat Noir. A pleasure I assure you, but I'm afraid I am going to have to ask you to leave. I've had a really shitty night, and right now, all I'd like is to be alone so that I can cry myself raw, feeling my life crumble and fall to dust between my fingers; retreating to the darkest recesses of my mind to shield myself from my emotions and become an unwilling spectator in my already fucked up and divinely damned life. Capisce?"

"..."

"..."

Ok so… When Ladybug decided to approach the akuma, she thought she'd be able to catch them off guard and lasso them with her yo-yo, making it easy for her to interrogate the akuma and cleanse them. She didn't think that the akuma would know they were there, and then politely ask that she and Chat leave so that the akuma can be alone to have an emotional breakdown.

Chat was equally confused, wondering why the akuma wasn't engaging them in combat. Moreso was he confused by what the akuma had yelled about and whatever it was that the akuma meant.

"... No chance for some fucking peace tonight, is that right? Just my damn luck."

Alexander muttered under his breath, turning to face the two heroes behind them. The two teens lept back a meter, posed defensively. Ladybug's eyes narrowed as she took in the flickering butterfly projection over the man's distinctly Roman face.

"Oi, why the hell did you guys jump like that? What? Never seen a schizophrenic before? That's a bit rude you know."

The heroes gave each other a confused look before regarding the man in front of them.

"Um, sorry but we were just caught off guard. Is, uh, is there something wrong? We heard screaming." Ladybug explained to the man, carefully choosing her words.

Alexander groaned and rubbed his eyes. "Nothing I think you'd be able to help with. Just when my night couldn't get any worse, I suddenly start to hear a new voice, and developed visual hallucinations. I mean, how else would that explain these new digs? So unless you can somehow cure schizophrenia, I suggest you just get back to patrolling or stopping muggers. I'm just a waste of your time."

"Actually," Chat scratched the back of his neck, "what you are hearing and seeing are real. You've been akumatized. Kinda. I think?"

Alexander turned to face Chat. "What do you mean akumatized? Shouldn't I be, I don't know, prancing around in some stupid looking latex and leather onesie, holding all of Paris hostage under the threat of being frozen in time forever? Demanding justice for some inane wrongdoing and for you two to hand over your miraculi or some crap like that?"

Ladybug snorted. "Well, yeah that sounds about right. Although technically the costumes are sorta like second skins I guess, at least ours are I mean."

"Then what hell is going on?!"

"We have no idea. Kinda hoped talking to you would gives us an idea." Chat shrugged.

Alexander raised an eyebrow as he looked over Ladybug's shoulder.

"Um, I think you should turn around."

Both Ladybug and Chat Noir spun around and immediately felt their jaws drop.

"Wha…"

A large swarm of akumas flapped about before them. Their unified black form quickly coalesced and shifted into a large masked head.

"Hawk Moth."

"Ladybug. Chat Noir. And you. My, my, my… what an… interesting mind you have. How you could possibly withstand an hour with those atrocious beasts is beyond me."

"A lot of medication, alcohol, and willpower." Alexander monotoned, scanning the disembodied head of Paris's Public Enemy Number One. "So you're Hawk Moth, huh? Honestly thought you'd look more like, I don't know, a menacing David Bowie? Maybe Matthew McConaughey? Not like some stereotypical 1970's Bond Villain at a masquerade ball."

Chat Noir and Ladybug lurched forward with a snort, faces red and cheeks puffed as they attempted to contain their laughter.

"Oh well if that isn't marvelous, you are just as snarky and disrespectful as they are."

"Thanks, we - I mean I got it from dealing with my father. But enough chit chat. What is happening to me you overgrown cicada?"

Hawk Moth huffed in distaste.

"From what I could tell, it appears that you are not completely akumatized. It's as though your… mental state prevents the magic from altering the entirety of brain, preventing me from assuming direct control over you and putting you in a state of partial akumatization. Your clothing changing style and material rather than being replaced by a costume proves this to be true, as does the fact that I can not seem to communicate with you without having to first go through those cretins."

Ladybug, having regained her composure, stepped forward.

"So in other words, he's just waste of your time and an akuma? In that case, tell me where the akuma is and we'll save you the trouble of having to recall it. Seems fair to me."

"Hah, on the contrary, Ladybug, he is anything but a waste. Rather, he will prove to be quite the learning experience. For someone of his psychological health and stability to be partially akumatized, well it is only a matter of time before he succumbs to either mental instability or complete akumatization. And by that point, I believe he will be quite the adversary, possibly the one who will win."

Chat Noir grit his teeth.

"That's twisted, even for you Hawk Moth!"

"I'll do what I must to get your miraculouses. But that does not mean I won't try to have some fun doing it, so I will tell you where the akuma is located." Hawk Moth looked directly at Alexander. "It is in that which you would follow to the ends of the earth."

"So, it's in his compass?" Ladybug and Chat Noir glanced back at Alexander. "Do you have a compass?" Chat asked.

Alexander stuck his hands into his pockets, looking away.

"... It's my heart, isn't that right Hawk Moth?"

"Correct."

The heroes' own hearts dropped upon hearing the villain's confirmation.

"Hmph, no wonder you're talking to all of us. You're not here to explain the situation, nor do you plan to just have me be your guinea pig. You're here because you finally have a trump card, the perfect situation to put two young heroes in a moral stalemate, and want to rub it in their faces. I'm your ticking time bomb, one they will be forced to diffuse and neutralize, be it now or later when things are at their worst." Alexander smiled grimly. "I guess that's check for you. One false move on their turn and it's your checkmate. All they can do is stall until they are eventually cornered or by some miracle, corner you. Tu che."

Ladybug walked over to Alexander and grabbed him by the shoulders. "What are you saying?! What do you mean?!"

"I mean, the only way to purify me, the only way for you to 'win' tonight or in the future, is to destroy my heart."

"No… no… no no no no no no! I refuse!" Ladybug shook Alexander by the shoulders.

"Take it back!" Chat shouted, pointing his extended staff at Hawk Moth. "Take the akuma back! Take. It. Back!" Chat swung at the head, but it only flew higher.

"The only thing I shall take is my leave. I expect this to be an entertaining game, and for your miraculouses to be in my possession soon. Do not think this means there will simply be no more akumas in the future. In fact, they shall be far more ferocious and formidable than any you have faced in the past."

With those final words, the swarm of akumas took into the night, leaving the heroes and Alexander watching them fly off until they were no longer visible in the midnight sky.

"So what now?" Chat asked, leaning on his extended staff as he looked toward Ladybug.

Alexander gave a quiet and decisive huff, eyebrows raised in intrigue.

"I believe I may have a solution..." Alexander said, his hand over the black nylon pouch that sat on his belt.

Ladybug and Chat Noir glanced at each other, confusion on their faces and curiosity peaked at what could possibly solve the impossible situation they were in.

Ladybug turned back to face Alexander.

"Um... ok? And what do you propose-"

"This."

In a single swift movement, one too fast for the two heroes to see clearly, Alexander opened the pouch and pulled out something metallic. Silver and green flashed through the air as the balisong knife twirled between Alexander's fingers. The light of the moon glinted off the reflective metal in time to the blade, grip, and bite handles as they danced, arced, and spun in complex rhythms through the long slender digits. The blade silently cut the night air as it was brought down towards his heart.

"STOP!"

Chat had caught Alexander's wrist, stopping the blade before it had made Alexander's heart it's new sheath.

Determination flashed in Alexander's eye. Without a moment's hesitation, he let go of the knife and deftly caught it in his left hand. He made another rapid attempt to plunge the blade into his heart, but he was thwarted by a red and black spotted yo-yo that wrapped around his left wrist.

Taking advantage of Ladybug's restraint on Alexander's arm, Chat, still holding onto the young man's right arm, lifted his right leg up and kicked the knife from his grasp. The steel tanto bladed butterfly knife clattered onto the concrete a meter away, the green handles splayed apart, it's intended purpose sabotaged.

Simultaneously, Chat and Ladybug let out a huge sigh of relief. Chat's face hardened into an angry scowl, his fangs bared as let out a low growl.

"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING!?"

Chat dropped Alexander's arm with some force, grabbing the taller man by his jacket collar and leaning towards him. Alexander wore an expressionless smirk, his rust eyes hard and unreadable, though he was clearly not intimidated by the younger male. He let out a low, dark, humorless chuckle.

"...Your job." Alexander answered in a low rasp.

Chat was taken aback by his response, involuntarily taking a step back and letting go of his jacket collar. Ladybug, having been just within earshot of the two, gave a sharp gasp. Shocked, she followed Chat's example and took a step back, her yo-yo loosening and returning to her possession. Their mouths were agape, perfect imitations of goldfish. Ladybug's mouth was dry, attempting to swallow the lump in her throat before she could stutter out... well something in reply to the Akuma's harrowing words.

"W-wh-what?"

It came out in a squeak, Ladybug's arms held up in front of her in a guarded position, shaking slightly as she struggled to calm the turmoil of fear, anger, shock, and confusion.

Alexander's head tilted back a bit, chin raised high as he glared down at the two heroes. His smirk widened.

"So childish... so naive... you think you can find some other way to purify my heart of the akuma?!" He let out venomous caustic laugh.

"Please! As if! To be cleansed of an Akuma, the possessed item must be destroyed, isn't that right?! Isn't it your job to cleanse akumas?! Your job as heroes?! You've done it countless times in the past, so what's to stop you this time? You refuse to cleanse an already tortured soul of a new foreign demon because you fear it could end him! Because you wish to hold onto your immature beliefs that this could all be solved through some alternative means! But let me tell you two children something!"

Chat and Ladybug flinched at being called children, their grip on their respective weapons tightening as Alexander turned with a haughty huff and began to pace in place.

"I've lived the last nine years suffering in absolute silence as my mind crafted and became a den to these-these-these demons! Day in and day out, They would speak to me. They whispered how much of a disappointment I am to my family, to my father especially, how much of a failure I am. They told me I was insignificant, and I had come to accept that I am nothing but a mote of dust in the wind, meaningless and bending to the will of the world around me! They made me fear human interaction, because I could not bear the thought of others having to deal with a terrible disappointment of a person! I didn't let anyone near, crafting intricate lies about myself to keep others away and from being exposed to my demons. I learned how to bottle my emotions and imitate happiness. For the last nine years I've wanted nothing more than for this to all just end!" Alexander paused as he knelt down, picking up his balisong knife. He stood up, facing the two teens as he entered into a string of complex tricks, tosses, and maneuvers with the knife.

"For the past nine years, I've held this knife over my heart every night with the knowledge that I have a way out, but I held onto the hope that the next day would be a better tomorrow, that if I were to die, I'd die as a hero of sorts. I'd die being remembered for actually succeeding in some good deed. So-" He caught the knife by its grip and bite handles as it fell back to earth from its toss, blade exposed and ready for use.

"I can only see one way this can end — where I do your job. The heroes' job. Where I can be the hero for a moment." He flipped the knife around held it in a reverse grip. "And this is where I can die. As a hero. How about you two take that to heart the next time you dress up in your leather and spandex? 'Cause at least this way I'll know tomorrow will be a better tomorrow, without me in it to poison it. God may have a canon 'gainst self-slaughter, but he has no canon against self-sacrifice."

Ladybug made a move to stop Alexander once more but Chat stopped her, putting an arm in front of her. Ladybug turned to look at Chat, about to voice her protest only for it to die on her tongue when she saw Chat's blank expression and distant stare. Chat took a step forward, prompting Alexander, apprehensive of Chat's intentions, to relax his arms and tighten the muscles in his legs in preparation of an attack.

Instead, Chat spoke.

"Hamlet, right? You just referenced Hamlet?"

Alexander raised an eyebrow, not expecting the male to ask him if he had just referenced Shakespeare's The Tragedies of Hamlet.

"Aye...I did...it's my favorite of all of Shakespeare's works...I guess it's because I can relate to the mental and emotional stability Hamlet goes through. Or maybe it was because I just loved how well the human nature, emotions, and heart are captured and portrayed in the play...I can't rememb– actually, I don't know if either one of the two reasons are due to the Parasites in my grey matter and their venomous influence..."

Chat gave a melancholic grin.

"My favorite is Romeo and Juliet. It's not just the romance that I love, it's the way their love for each other is described and written... and there's also the–"

"The indecision and heartbreaking realization the characters have to choose a side, family or their love in Romeo and Juliet. In Hamlet, it's Hamlet's Christian faith versus his loyalty to the State and laws versus loyalty to his Father. Aye, I understand..."

Chat was quiet, seeming to contemplate something for a moment before sighing in defeat.

"Hey...do you hate your dad?" The question was asked with clear hesitance.

Alexander showed no outward reaction to the question, rather keeping his surprise inside. He rubbed a deep scar that ran the length of his left hand's fifth digit with his right index finger, knife still in hand.

"...I hate everything about him, from how stubborn he is to how blind he is of his own son's mental health to how inconsiderate he is of physical and mental limitations to how unsupportive he is...but...I don't hate him...I just want him to be happy and proud of me again...I just want things to go back to the way they were when it was just the two of us, when I was just a toddler and it was just him and me living in an condominium overlooking the Bay of Miami. Right before he met the woman he'd marry after he lost his job when the office was destroyed in the 9/11 attacks. Right before his new wife who would raise me became the person I considered my mother."

Alexander's stoic facade began to crumble slowly as he continued. His voice became hoarse and emotional.

"Right before my father changed negatively, like every male has/does in my father's family when something terrible goes wrong. Right before my father began to demand that I focus on academics, claiming my dreams of writing or design to be a waste of my intellect and would never be successful in life. Right before he began to control every aspect of my life. Right before his inability to be pleased with my studies or achievements kickstarted the same change he had in me. Right before I started hearing voices in my head and lay in bed every night with a knife on my chest. Right before I started to become the very things I hate about my father. Right before I shut the world out, locked away my emotions, lied, stole, and wished for death as I began to fall and fail, faster and faster. I-I-I just-"

Fresh tears fell down Alexander's face, choking out loud sobs as he attempted to finish what he was saying.

He dropped the knife, his arms wrapping around himself as he fell into a fetal position. Ladybug rushed forward and crouched beside the sobbing Alexander, an unsure yet caring expression on her face as she hesitantly placed a hand on the man's hooded head in an act of comfort. Chat squatted down in front of Alexander, hoping his presence would provide comfort to him as waited patiently for the rest of Alexander's response to reach a state of coherency.

With a sniffle, Alexander choked out what he wanted to say.

"I just want my Papi back! The one who was always happy and smiled and never said anything sarcastic every two sentences. I want the one who would hug me, tell me how proud he was of me, how he loved my stories, how he loved my sketches. I want the one who would give me gentle head pats and take naps with me on the weekends. I just want my Papi back. Not the one who allowed himself to fall victim to the curse of mental disorders from tragic events that plagues our family's men. Not the one who caused his first born son, the one he said brought him out of a dark point of his life when said son was born, to fall victim to the curse when he had barely gone through pre-pubescence. I just want my Papi back!"

Alexander went from loudly sobbing to full on gross weeping. Inwardly, the 20 year old man cringed at how ironically childish he sounded during his ranting, but those thoughts were quickly forgotten when he suddenly felt a pair of slender arms wrap around him. Those arms were accompanied by third arm that clasped his shoulder. He stiffened as Ladybug pulled him into a tight embrace, misty eyed and acting on an instinctual need to comfort this poor broken and hurting soul. Alexander, having not been properly hugged since he was a child, was uneasy and unsure what to do. But he gradually melted into the comforting gesture, continuing to cry and letting out years of pent up emotion.

Ladybug quietly whispered small assurances, rubbing Alexander's arm with her thumb in circular motions. Her heart ached at the revelation of how emotionally restrained, controlled, and traumatized by his father the man has been for most of his life. From what Alexander had said, it seemed as though his childhood ended far too soon, forced to grow up when most children were still in the process of losing their baby teeth, reading picture books, and contemplating the existence of and correlation between 'cooties' and girls. It's truly no wonder why he's so upset and called them immature. He didn't get a chance to be a child for long. Ignorance really is bliss, huh?

'What does Chat think about this?'

Ladybug glanced at Chat curiously from the corner of her eye in an attempt to gauge his reaction. Chat's head was down, his hair covered her view of his face making it impossible to see his expression. Worried, Ladybug decided to ask him if he was fine, but Chat interrupted before she could even open her mouth.

"I know what it's like…" Chat whispered.

Alexander's sobbing halted immediately, his head shot up, Chat's words having caught his attention.

Chat met Alexander's steely and questioning gaze.

"I know what it's like… for your father to demand so much of you. For your father to toss aside your hopes and dreams. For your father to control every aspect of your life. To do whatever your father wishes in order to please him… It's the same deal with my dad. He's been that way ever since mom went missing." Chat stood up, maintaining his eye contact with Alexander.

"You and I, we're not all that different. But, you've lived almost your whole life this way, pushing others away out of fear, bottling your emotions, letting yourself be the person your father wants rather being yourself. And it broke you, it shattered your mind, body, and soul. You know pain, and all you want to know is death." Chat paused, swallowing as he carefully pieced together what he wished to say.

"My father hasn't been the way he is for too long, and I sought to make friends and surround myself in friendly faces. But, listening to you, looking at you… I-I can't… I can't help but think that I could have become like you if I didn't make the friends I have. But… should something happen to my friends... should something happen that prevents me from ever seeing them… I think I could still – no, I would become like you. I would lose myself."

"... I… I used to have someone." Alexander cleared his throat, his voice hoarse from crying. Bringing his hand to his face, he quickly wiped and rubbed his eyes and cheeks. "A year and a half ago, I met a girl at orientation for our school." Alexander's gaze became distant as he re-lived the memory in his mind. "I had been sitting in a lecture hall waiting for the next presentation to start when I noticed a girl wearing a thick, oversized Pokémon hoodie, hood up in the middle of the 30 degree centigrade weather that is expected of Miami summers, sitting in the row below me. I overheard her talking to her friend next to her about a video game I just so happened to play quite a bit. In a bout of uncharacteristic impulse, I tapped her shoulder and she turned around. I swear, the moment I saw her olive eyes, I felt like this girl was special. I managed to strike a conversation with the girl about the game, and a hour later we were talking about favorite bands we had in common while holding hands. Four hours later, we were sharing my jacket and her hoodie, using them as blankets as we cuddled and napped together in the shade of a tree. It was at this point that I knew I had to make this girl my girlfriend. A month later we were officially dating. Four months pass and I knew that I loved her, without a doubt in my mind. I loved her lisp, the way her brown hair stuck up everywhere when she woke up from a nap, the way she would play with my hair and tease me about how I took such good care of it that I'm just like a bird that preens constantly. I was her dapper little Cuervo. But, at six months, that's when I decided I would be coming to Paris to study. I told her, asked her to come with me. She said no, and made it clear we would be unable to maintain a long distance relationship, especially since we would be severely swamped with work the following semester. So we had to, reluctantly but mutually, break off our relationship."

He took a shuddering breath.

"Losing Emma, mi amor, my Stardust… that… that was the straw that broke the camel's back. After that, I just lost all hope. She was my light in the darkness that is my life. When I was around her, I had no trouble ignoring Them, nor did I wish for death, nothing could take my attention away from her. Nothing could take me from her; or so I thought. Without her, I lost myself in the darkness once again, everything just as bleak as it was before I met her."

Alexander rubbed his eyes with both hands.

"I was going to ask her to marry me this past Christmas, right here in Trocadero across from the Eiffel Tower." He whispered softly.

Ladybug's eyes widened to the size of saucers, her hand covered her mouth as she gasped in surprise. Chat's jaw fell, eyebrows raised, equally surprised and taken aback as Ladybug by that last tidbit of information that Alexander just dropped on them like a freaking bomb.

Oh, how American.

Unsure how to continue with his previous train of thought gone and forgotten, Chat blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

"She loves you as much as you love her, right?"

"Yeah, she does. One of things we talked at great lengths about. Why do you ask?" Alexander answered quickly, narrowing his eyes at Chat as he asked his own question.

"If she loves you that much, do you think she'd ever let you live the way you are if she knew? Assuming she doesn't know I mean. Do you think she'd ever let you kill yourself to cleanse the akuma?"

Alexander broke out into hysterical laughter, toppling over onto the sidewalk as he shook and rolled uncontrollably.

"Fuck no! Fuck. , incredibly voluptuous she may be, would fucking kick my ass to near death, nurse me back to health, only so that she can kick my ass again!"

Ladybug and Chat snickered at the thought of a short, full bodied girl in a huge Pokémon hoodie standing over a beaten and bruised Alexander.

A few moments later, the three had calmed down, catching their breath once their snickers faded.

"So," Chat addressed Alexander once more, "if she wouldn't ever let you do this, and you'd do anything to have her in your life again, why would you ever consider dying? Why would you refuse to look for alternatives? For once, just this once, think for yourself. Live. Live for her. Live so that you can have her in your life again when you return home. Live, so that one day you can ask her to marry you. Isn't that enough of a reason to let us help you?"

Ladybug stared at Chat, awestruck by the rather compelling argument the normally silly and playful teen made.

"... yeah… yeah I guess that's a pretty good fucking reason. Fine." Alexander scooped up his butterfly knife, closing it with a reverse roundabout maneuver and shoving it back into the nylon pouch. "I'll let you do what you want, and in exchange, I promise I won't turn my heart into a shish kabob."

Chat cracked a grin.

"Good. Now, let's get you off this sidewalk, it's fucking half a centigrade and I'm sure your ass has got to be a popsicle by now." Chat said, offering Alexander his hand, pulling the man up once he clasped his hand.

"Surprisingly, my ass is actually quite toasty." Alexander cheekily replied. "I think these pants that megalomaniac gifted me have some kind of thin and high quality interior insulating lining and soft padding all throughout, yet they are really comfy and lightweight. Almost like I'm wearing a normal pair of Dockers."

Ladybug straightened, her face lit up in interest.

"Oh!" Alexander facepalmed, "I hadn't even introduced myself. The name is Alexander Brillacuervo. Don't you dare call me Alex, I hate that name. You can call me Alexander or Ander, but I much prefer the former. I'm Mexican-American, twenty years old, and currently studying abroad at the American University of Paris. I wish we could have met in better circumstances, but I guess that I drew a bad hand tonight."

Alexander glanced up at the night sky, concentrating on the stars and moon. Seconds later he turned to address the heroes.

"Anyway, it's about 1:15 in the morning right now. Early for me but I can't say the same for the two of you. I'd say you're both still in high schoo– er...um...I mean... ugh what was it in French?" Alexander, switching into English the moment he had begun to say high school, scratching his bearded chin, as he racked his brain for the little French he knew and any knowledge he had of France's education system. Despite living in Paris for the past year and his ability to speak grammatically correct French, Alexander still struggled at times to make decent conversation with the basic French vocabulary he had learned. Annoyed by his frustration with the language and the limited vocabulary he had learned nearly fourteen months ago, he subconsciously began to curse and mutter angrily in his mother tongue.

"¡Ay caray! ¿Que es la palabra...? Pinche maldita memoria de pez de colores... lengua romántica mi nalga... coño hijo de puta madre..."

Ladybug was confused by the man's sudden switch from his heavily accented French to English to fluent fast Spanish. Chat, on the other hand, was amused. Having an internationally renowned and famous fashion designer for a father meant he had learned to speak multiple languages beyond his native French, those being Spanish, Italian, Chinese, and English. Thus, he perfectly understood Alexander's rambling. Well, actually he understood the gist of Alexander's Spanish. It seemed as though the university student spoke some sort of Spanish that was an amalgamation of various dialects from several Spanish speaking nations, making it a bit difficult to make out what Alexander was saying.

"Ah!" Alexander snapped his fingers, transitioning back into French. "Lycée! That's the word! Anyway, as I was saying, I'm betting you're still in Lycée, and it's much too late for you to be out. Best get home. Don't want to be falling asleep in class right?"

Ladybug and Chat Noir flinched, nervous and a bit unsettled by the man's astute observation.

"What about you? And what do you mean by it still being early for you?" Ladybug rubbed her neck.

Alexander adjusted his hood and rubbed the wrist where his watch once sat, evident by the lighter colored skin matching the outline of a watch that contrasted his naturally tanned skin.

"I'm an insomniac. I don't get much sleep. Mostly due to the boys upstairs," Alexander pointed at his head in a mocking gesture, "but I also find it hard to sleep at night, I usually fall asleep at three or four in the morning, much to my oh so cursed misfortune. I'm restless at night and it's when I'm struck with inspiration the most, so I'll often be writing or drawing stuff at night. But that's not the case tonight, if the last hour has been an indication… ah...FUCK!" Alexander facepalmed.

"What! What is it?!" Chat stepped forward, concerned for the American.

"I just realized something…" Alexander looked Chat in the eye, a pained grimace on his face. "If my schizophrenia is what's inhibiting a hundred percent akumatization, then that means I can't take any pills to block the 'boys upstairs' or I risk falling under Gothy Mothy's control."

"Oh…" Chat quietly breathed. "Wait..."

A second later, Alexander's words were fully processed and Chat straightened his posture as his face lit up in amusement.

"Did...did you just say 'Gothy Mothy?'"

Chat looked like he was ready to explode.

"Aye, or do you prefer Hawk-ward After-Moth? How about Hawky the E-Moth-ional?" Alexander suggested, a light smirk on his face.

'Oh God! Please, no! I beg you!' Ladybug sat squatted on the ground, head in her hands as she blankly stared at the sidewalk in desperation and exasperation.

Chat couldn't hold it in anymore and exploded in laughter, his body shaking from unrestrained mirth.

"Mon Dieu! Stop it you're paw-sitively killing me right meow!"

"Purr-ty sure you have plenty of lives left. I'm not too meow-ied about that. Besides, what's life without a little pun? No phun intended…" Alexander's smirk grew.

Chat blinked.

"Did you just make meow-re puns? Cat puns? And reference Twenty One Pilots?"

Alexander's smirk was less smug and amused, and now much more smarmy.

"Aye, though I can dish them and enjoy them, cat puns aren't exactly my area of expertise. Wordplay, manipulation, references, one liners, situational puns are more my thing. Call me A-lexicon-der if you wish."

Ladybug, struggling to fight off the impending headache, broke out of her breakdown with a sigh.

"Dear God, it's like idiot in stereo."

Chat Noir and Alexander snapped their heads to Ladybug's direction. Awestruck as they couldn't help but see the spotted heroine in a new light.

"Did you just reference Red vs Blue?" Both males asked the girl simultaneously.

Ladybug stiffened, her face flushed crimson at the realization that she accidentally let a bit of her personal life slip. A dorky bit at that. She shot up to her feet, yo-yo in hand.

"W-w-well...um… It's getting r-really late a-and I think we're done for patrol for t-tonight! C-Chat, meet me at the usual place in a bit, gotta talk to you about something and set up the next patrol!"

With a toss of her yo-yo and a running leap, Ladybug swung into the night sky, making her way through the dimly lit streets of Trocadéro to the rooftop that served as the duo's meeting place in the 1st arrondissement.

Chat looked after Ladybug longingly. 'I so want to wife that girl.'

Alexander spoke up, breaking Chat out of his lovestruck reverie with his now somber voice.

"Hey kid, before you go, I want to tell you something. Until you find a solution to my butterfly problem or I die, I'm going to be going mostly sober, clean, off the suppressors. I won't have anything to block the viruses infecting my biological computer, if you catch my drift. So there's a chance I might start listening to Them and break. If that happens, I want you to either knock me out, or in the worst case scenario, kill me. I'm not a violent or thin skinned guy, you get me? I don't know how I'll act if I bend to Their will when I break, but I don't want to hurt anyone."

Alexander gave a humorless chuckle, his hand running through his mostly black hair.

"Funny, ain't it? Being under my father's control created Them and this whole problem. And now it's the Demons my father created that protects me from the problem caused by his control on my life. Hmph, if it's not my father, then it's Them, and if it's not Them, then its Hawk Moth, and then it all takes a big condescending 'Fuck you' U-turn, over and over again in an infinite loop, circle, ellipse – call it as you fucking may – of responsibility for control over my life."

He heaved a mighty sigh.

"...I'm going to have to resort to my old methods, the things I did before I turned to pills to block out their voices. Music. Some pretty distracting, calming, or loud stuff will have to do. Luckily, that's most of my playlists and favorites… Anyways, I better get going. I don't know how much longer I have until the Jackasses get bored of messing with Evil Butterfly Man or whatever it is they are doing right now. Plus, I've got a bit of a walk ahead of me if I want to get ho- I mean, back to my place."

Chat nodded, melancholy and understanding clear in expression and body language. He gave a small grin.

"I've got to talk with Ladybug. Take it easy man, I'll see you around. Don't be afraid to give us a holler if you see or need us. Or if you want to hang out. Or if you just want to make some puns and chat. Or if you just need a friend. And with that, I will take my leave of you. Au Revoir!"

Chat pulled out his baton, extending it as he ran, launching himself into the air, whooping in exhilaration as he made his way to meet with Ladybug.

"You cannot, sir, take from me anything that I will more willingly part withal—except my life, except my life, except my life."

Alexander quietly quoted, his expression melancholic and voice wistful. He gave a small sigh, before turning on his heel and walking in the opposite direction that Chat had gone. He began to make his way through the 16th arrondissement towards the 7th arrondissement, a long, lonely, and silent walk he cherished and dreaded.

'Friend?… huh… I haven't had one of those in a while…'

Chat Noir landed soundlessly on the rooftop where Ladybug, sitting on the edge of the building that faced the Eiffel Tower, waited for him. However, before he could announce his arrival, Ladybug acknowledged his presence abruptly and got straight to business.

"It's late so let's make this quick. Chat, after what we've witnessed tonight, I think it's safe to say that we are going to need to be vigilant at all times. We're also going to have to increase the number of patrols per week. From now until we solve our little heart problem, we'll patrol together on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. I'll pull solo patrol on Tuesdays and Saturdays, and your solo patrol days will be Thursdays and Sundays. I've got this feeling that Hawk Moth is going to double his attacks, and I don't want to leave Alexander unchecked."

Chat plopped down beside Ladybug, humming in agreement.

"I have to agree with you, My Lady. I don't feel all that comfortable with the thought of leaving Alexander all alone or with anyone to talk to. I'm going to talk to my kwami and do some research of my own to see if we can find some other way to cleanse Alexander. The sooner we find some way to help him, the better. I...I don't want the guy to die…I refuse to let him…"

Chat scowled, his voice wavering as his tightly clenched fist shook, the leather squeaking.

"...Chat...what you did earlier...what you said...I don't think I could have done that… I don't think I could have stopped him from killing himself...Kitty, he wasn't scared. He wasn't even scared to die. He didn't even hesitate to try stabbing himself. He wanted to die!" Ladybug wrung her wrists, sadness and confusion leaking through her voice.

"I don't understand why he wouldn't even consider alternative options! He was so set on dying that he was willing to fight us, a pair superheroes with powers and abilities beyond normal humans, in order to kill himself. He even called us naive, immature, childish, children! Children! Children playing hero!" She took a shuddering gasp of breath. "A-and I… I can't help but think that he's probably right… For someone older, someone who's known suffering and struggle, someone outside the local perspective, someone who wanted to die a 'hero's death' to call us children… I can't help but think he might be right…"

A tear landed on her gloved hands.

"...The guy knows that heroes have to make sacrifices, that they can't save everyone, that sometimes the worst option is the only option… He clearly craved death, but was selfless enough to preserve his life for a grander ending. He didn't give into his temptors, instead, he wanted to make sure his death would mean something, something heroic in the sense. And tonight, he saw his chance… he saw that the sacrifice he would make would be his own life for the safety of Paris. He understood what it means to be a hero." Ladybug lowered her head at Chat's words, but immediately perked back up by what followed.

"But that didn't make him completely right. He didn't want to wait for alternatives to be found, he wanted to go through with the worst option. His willingness to die, though the action was selfless by ensuring Paris was safe, was also selfish, because he wanted to throw his life away to end his pain. I won't deny that we may be naive, immature, childish, and hell, we're 15 years old, he's 20 and lived a life of misery, so I think it's fair that he calls us children! We've only been heroes for almost two years now, but he's wanted to be a hero for almost a decade! That's why I can honestly say that he's not 100 percent right. We are still young, we still have plenty of time to grow, physically and mentally. So, rather than letting what he said get you down, use it as a reminder, as fuel to be a better hero and person. Bugaboo, he even said to remember that the next time we suit up. He wasn't trying to discourage us, he was trying to give us advice!"

Chat placed a clawed finger under Ladybug's chin, turning her head to meet his gaze and reassuring grin. He wiped away the tear trail below her mask, a slight blush on his cheeks. He pulled his arm away quickly, placing it in his lap and hiding his embarrassment efficiently.

"My Lady, after you left, we had a small talk. He said that he'll be sober until an alternative solution is found, thereby making him vulnerable to his schizophrenic hallucinations. He's afraid he may fold and fall to their influence, thereby making him a serious threat. He's afraid he'll hurt people. I can tell he doesn't want to be left alone, and I think it's probably for the best if we keep an eye on him on a daily basis. What do you think?"

Ladybug sniffed,eyebrows furrowed, index finger tapping her pursed lips as she began to think.

"Chat… I think I'll take care of the research for an alternative method of cleansing. I want you to spend as much time as you possibly can with Alexander during the day. He seems to respond well to you, and I'm not sure I'll be able find common ground with him. So you'll be his shadow whenever you can. At night, he'll have to either join us for patrols or we'll drop in and check on him during patrol. This way we can make sure he's doing fine and that he's not being targeted by Hawk Moth or something of the sort… you know what? This whole thing is surprisingly similar to the whole akumatized Markov incident. Though he's a robot, Markov's processor was possessed, and Hawk Moth had little control over the little guy. We only managed to cleanse him because Max's anti-virus program treated the akuma like a virus and cleaned out Markov. Only in this case, Markov's processor is equatable to Alexander's heart, and we can't just use some sort of operation or medicine to cleanse Alexander. His heart literally needs to be destroyed, or some other method needs to be found for him to be cleansed. And we are lucky that Alexander's schizophrenia is what is keeping Hawk Moth from controlling him, let alone giving the guy powers as far as I can tell. Ladybug shuttered, "I don't even want to think about what powers a guy like him could get…"

Chat winced, "I'll have to agree with you on that. He's definitely the most emotionally and mentally disturbed victim we've ever encountered, and I can't even bear to think what powers Hawk Moth would've given him, let alone the damage he'd have caused if Hawk Moth had Alexander under his control…"

Ladybug's earrings began to beep, signaling the start of her five minute countdown. She sighed.

"Well then, Chaton, that's my cue to leave. Tomorrow is Tuesday, so I'll patrol solo tomorrow night. I'll see you Wednesday night, assuming there aren't any Akumas, aside from Alexander, before then."

Ladybug and Chat Noir stood up, Chat grabbing Ladybug's hand, bowing as he brushed his lips against her knuckles.

"Goodnight My Lady, I'll try to spend as much time with Alexander and try to find out where he lives. I'll await our next meeting with longing in my heart and bated breath, as I find I can not stand to stray too far from your beauty as it is the source of my very energy. I'll cat-ch you later, Bugaboo!"

His departing words finished, Chat bounded across the rooftop, pulling out and extending his baton, launching himself across the gap and continuing to vault over the adjacent rooftops as he made his journey home.

Ladybug sighed, rolling her eyes at her partner's shenanigans. A fond smile began to stretch across her lips, but was halted by a large yawn. Realizing how late it was, as well as how the day's earlier fight in addition to tonight's extremely emotional events had left her utterly drained, Marinette didn't hesitate to toss out her yo-yo and begin to swing her way back to the bakery that was her home. The thought of asking Tikki for advice on their butterfly problem now reserved for a time when she would be 100 percent conscious and capable of intelligent thought.

Alexander lifted his head as he approached a very large and well kept building. He gave a sigh, pulling down the leather hood of his jacket and quietly greeting the elderly doorman who opened the door for him.

"Good morning! How did the walk go tonight, M. Brillacuervo?"

"Good morning, M. Bertran. My father called. He was not happy. And I was nearly akumatized, but I calmed down in time to prevent it. My walk was nice while it lasted. I think I will turn in early. May your shift go smoothly. Goodbye."

"I'm sorry to hear that, monsieur. Goodbye and rest well."

Alexander made his way through the brightly lit and tastefully decorated lobby, the polished créme marble adding to elegancy of the atmosphere and aesthetic. Pressing the button, Alexander stepped into the elevator when the the doors opened immediately. He tapped on the touchscreen embedded into the mirrored glass at the back of the elevator, waking up the display and tapping on the seventh floor as his destination.

The high speed elevator opened its doors not a second later to an entirely new hall. Stepping out onto the velvet carpet, Alexander walked down the gray hallway, the light blue LED strips that lit the hall barely casting any shadows. A minute later, Alexander stopped at the end of the hall before a plain mahogany door. A silver plaque with the numbers "718" was screwed into the wall beside the door frame.

Luckily, the costume change dear Hawky gave him didn't get rid of his personal items he had on him prior to the impromptu clothes change. Alexander dug out his apartment keys out from a chest pocket on his jacket. Unlocking the door, Alexander stepped into the apartment. Or rather, apartments.

The place was huge, having originally been two adjacent apartments that were later joined together after a large purchase made by his father and a couple demolished walls. A large taupe living room, an open kitchen with gray marble counters and white cupboards, and two guest and two master bedrooms made up Alexander's flat at the corner of the building, with the additional bonus scenic view of the Eiffel Tower and the Seine River. Too much flat for one person, in Alexander's honest opinion.

"'Only the best for his cuervito…' heh" Alexander muttered as he hung his keys on the set of hooks by the door, closing it behind him.

He flicked the light switch and stepped into the sparsely furnished living room, kicking off his new brown boots, leaving them lying by the doorway. He took a half step forward before halting, raising a quizzical eyebrow as he glanced back at the abandoned footwear. Pursing his lips, both eyebrows raising a bit higher than the first brow did, he hummed in mild interest and approval, shrugging nonchalantly. The fact he could take off his boots meant he'd be able to take off the rest of his outfit, meaning it would make it easier to shower, sleep, and be out in public without people recognizing him easily and freaking out over the fact that an akumatized schizo was just casually strolling into a store or through a park or something.

"Heh… guess that means the whole 'costume is a second skin and is bonded to the wearer's skin' thing those two said doesn't apply to akumas. Hmm…"

Alexander faced forward once more, turning left and making his way to the open kitchen connected to the living room, his footfalls nearly silent against the polished and laminated dark willow panelled floor. Opening a white cupboard door and it's neighboring glass door, he pulled out a small bottle of Extra Strength Tylenol from the white cabinet and a glass from the other cabinet.

The two items in hand, Alexander strode over to a small mahogany table, with an equally wooden (a worn, heavily scratched, and beaten Eastern Red Cedar) box on top, that sat in the living room by the balcony doors behind the cream leather couch. Setting the Tylenol bottle and glass down beside the box, he lifted the wooden lid and pulled out a bottle of tequila, a Jose Cuervo Reserva de la Familia Extra-Añejo (Alexander is pretty sure there is no relation between the Cuervo family and his family) bottle of tequila to be precise. A 250 U.S. dollar bottle of tequila, recognized for its distinctive flavors, aroma, and finish that differs from bottle to bottle, batch to batch.

He may be underage back stateside, but that doesn't hold true in France. And after everything he's undergone in the last four hours, one can certainly agree that Alexander deserves a drink.

Alexander pulled out the cork and poured the tequila, filling the glass halfway before replacing the cork on the bottle, putting it back in the box. He twisted the cap on the Tylenol bottle and shook it until three blue and orange capsules fell into his palm.

Popping the capsules into his mouth, he grabbed hold of the shot glass and lifted it to eye level.

"Arriba y atrás… para salud de cuerpo, mente, y espíritu, para los bendiciones Dios me da, y para mi nuevo libertad… lo tragó a estas cosas…" Alexander knocked his glass back, letting the neat tequila wash the Tylenol down his throat, total disregard for the warnings on the pill bottle against the action. He savored the velveteen texture and the leather and roasted nut like flavors.

He set the empty glass down with sigh, silently lamenting in the fact that his fast metabolism and family's hereditary alcoholism (and its accompanying high alcohol tolerance, 'cause genetics) meant that Alexander would need a lot of alcohol to get him buzzed, let alone drunk. But he knew the alcohol would help lull him to sleep and ignore Them if They came back while he tried to sleep.

Alexander gazed into the empty glass; the image of his reflection in the shop windows as Hawk Moth spoke to him from earlier that night flashed through his mind.

"I'm going to need to wear a hooded jacket other than this one during the day. That'll make it easier to hide that pink-purple butterfly mask thing if Mothy decides to shoot the shit at the most inopportune times...Yeah, I think that'll do the trick…"

Alexander turned around, walking down the hall leading out of the taupe living room and into his bedroom. Pulling off his new jacket, he neatly laid it on his computer chair and grabbed his sleepwear as he strode into the connecting bathroom. Twenty minutes, a hot shower, and brushed teeth later, Alexander stepped out in his Armani Exchange sleepwear. He opened his bedside nightstand and pulled out a pair of Bluetooth earbuds, shoving them into his ears before walking over to his computer desk and chair. After searching the multiple pockets on his new jacket, Alexander found his phone and plugged it in to charge. Unlocking it, he quickly paired his earbuds, switched to Spotify, and hit shuffle on the playlist that had the most songs.

Alexander gave a soft sigh in relief as Dance Gavin Dance's Midnight Crusade began to play. Stepping back, he fell backwards onto his bed. He shifted his position to allow himself to be covered by his white comforter. As his body sank into the heavenly embrace of the bed and pillows' memory foam, a peculiar thought wormed to the forefront of his mind.

"… I'm still not sure if that shitty James Bond villain gave me any special abilities with that butterfly...hmph… looks like I'll have to test out what I can do later then…"

Alexander gave a small snort at the sudden realization behind the irony surrounding him as he listened to Tilian sing about how he didn't want anyone to try to rescue him, how he'd follow his own path and wouldn't be swayed. Oh how he couldn't help but be amused by the fact that the song was practically a summary of this very night. He knew what was killing him, he knew that there'd be no way for these teens to help him, nor that their status as heroes could change what he knew had to happen. By this point, Alexander has pretty much accepted the idea that his demons, magical or psychological, are here to stay, be it 'til the end of his life or beyond.

The song came to an end, and just as the opening bass line to Muse's Showbiz began to play, another idea popped into Alexander's head…

"...I'm so going to mess with these kids...I'm going to be very bored and I haven't pranked anyone in over a decade… those two don't know what they are dealing with."

Alexander gave a mischievous and dark chuckle. Oh yes, he was so going to give the two teens one hell of a headache.

Why?

Well, why the hell not?

With this in mind, Alexander slowly fell into the clutches of sleep, lulled into his unconsciousness by Matthew Bellamy's smooth singing and cries of how his feelings have been controlled for far too long, of following someone else's orders, and how those orders - those desires - lead to his self destruction.

Tomorrow will be a new day, free of all control, free of other people's desires, free of other people's dreams. Tomorrow, Alexander will tread over the lines that define their control.

Tomorrow, he'll dream his own dreams, and he'll scream his own screams.

Now that's something to drink to.

Quick bit of information: If you are interested in listening to Alexander's Spotify Playlist, simply search Spotify for a playlist named "Rock n Shiet I Guess"

Translations:

Cuervito - Spanish for little raven or little crow

Guey - Spanish slang word for dude or can also be an insulting way to refer to another person, depending on the context it is used.

"Mira Aqui" - Spanish for "look here"

"FANCULO! MERDE! COÑO! SCHEISSE! CAZZO! FUCKING MERDA!" - ... I'm pretty sure you guys can figure these out



"¡Ay caray! ¿Que es la palabra...? Pinche maldita memoria de pez de colores... lengua romántica mi nalga... coño hijo de puta madre..." -



*"Oh Gee! What is the word...? Fucking memory of a goldfish... romantic tongue my ass... pussy son of a bitch..."

"Arriba y atrás… para salud de cuerpo, mente, y espíritu, para los bendiciones Dios me da, y para mi nuevo libertad… lo tragó a estas cosas…"

*"Up and back... for the health of body, mind, and soul, for the blessings God gives me, and for my new freedom... I drink to these things... "

And with that, I can finally say that I am so happy to finally start a brand new journey - and get beyond pathetically staring at a Google Doc for eight months. I will get started on writing the second chapter tomorrow.

Please keep in mind that reviews help motivate me greatly in writing each chapter and to get the next one out sooner than expected.

I am really excited for this story, you have no idea.

Until next time,



~ Chris