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The Queen Bee and Her Drone

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Honey Harper was always this kind of… everything. Like a luminous point. She carried so much light in her it almost dripped down her palms.

Yet, her hands were always cold.

Nova knew that because she had touched them many times, even when it was against her will.

Honey Harper didn’t have any kind of ice powers (Thank the odds. The world didn’t need two Genissas) (It didn’t even need one of them in the first place) but Nova had watched her as she turned into hoarfrost in more occasions than she could count. There were periods of time in which her expression would go blank for days. And suddenly all her concealed emotions would flood her eyes and her screams could be heard all through the tunnels.

All Nova did was stare. That’s how she had been taught.

That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt, though, because every time she could sense Honey was having a hard time, she felt as if a hole was opening up inside her. As someone who carried the weight and the hope of the Anarchists, she somehow believed that was her responsibility: To keep them all alive.

But, stars, Honey looked so tired and so hopeless sometimes. Nova could even feel how her life slipped through her fingers and it was so frustrating. Like, this whole situation. Not being able to reach her even though she was so close; not being able to save her even though nobody knew why on earth she felt in danger.

Nova had grown to… appreciate her, still. After all, her personality was an odd creation, shaped by them. By all of them except Phobia. And after all, Honey was one of the first faces she saw after she lost everything.

It had been like a ghost. One moment she was alone with uncle Ace and Honey Harper appeared out of nowhere.

And she never left. Even if sometimes all Nova could see was her soaked face with long lines of ruined mascara.

Honey was the owner of that pair of ice-cold hands. The ones who had combed Nova’s hair when she felt like it, but still cut it with no hesitation when she got tired of it (even though that hair was Nova’s and not hers); Honey was the one who would look after her when Leroy and Winston couldn’t, even though she wouldn’t shut up about how annoying that was; Honey was the one who would look at her with that “I understand” energy, even though she always found a way to cover it up saying the first mean thing that popped into her mind; the one who would touch her sometimes, when Nova felt as if she were made of dust; the one who wasn’t scared of getting close but still, in a strange phenomena, DID want Nova to stay away; the one who, along with the rest of the Anarchists, had been everything Nova had; the one who had created the voice at the back of her brain, the one who asked: What would Honey do?

Maybe she had done it on purpose. And maybe her mind was too far gone and messed up and she would have been proud when Nova finally obeyed that voice.

What would Honey do?

The path was clear, and the answer was too.

So, in the middle of the Hell Honey had pulled her through, Nova shot.

And for a minute everything was dark, as she watched her laid there covered in bees. Dead as all the memories she had built with her; dead as the days Nova would cuddle with her in bed just because she knew Honey needed it; dead as the smell of her perfume; dead as her singing voice; dead as her awful advices.

Dead. Just like that. Plain dead.

And so, SO cold, just like she was before Nova even thought about taking her life.

Cold as her hands, when she placed them in Nova’s shoulders and stared at her through the mirror, atrocious makeup and everything, saying:

“ You’re turning into a beautiful young lady, just like me when I was your age. “

“ So you’re implying I’m the new Queen Bee, then. “

“ Oh, darling, no! “ She laughed, graciously. “ You’re giving the compliment too much importance. “

Then she placed her chin on Nova’s head and hugged from the back. Her arms in her chest forming an X.

“ You dress like Ingrid and I bet you have no idea of what on Earth a lipgloss is. You’re a lost cause. If I’m the Queen Bee, then you would be a drone. “ And she closed her eyes as if she planned to fall asleep on Nova’s head.

“ However, I must admit you really are a beautiful drone. “


“ Such a shame. “ Nova said, in such a low volume she thought Leroy wouldn’t be able to hear her.

He did. Nevertheless, he didn’t take his eyes off the road. He just waited until Nova continued.

“ Now I’ll have to use sugar whenever I want to drink tea. “

“ That’s a tragedy. “ Leroy rolled his eyes. “ Just buy honey somewhere else, just like you did every time you were mad at her. “

And it occurred to her that it was, actually, a fair option. She needed just to… forget her.

Hate her.

Be mad at her.

But somehow she couldn’t find the will.

It was so weird and so…

So hard to explain.

“ It doesn’t work like that. “ She managed to say. “ Not this time. “

Leroy reached for her hand, but he didn’t say a word.