Chapter Text
JUNE 2016 – Piltover General Hospital
The stairwell was a fire escape - its purpose was to exist only in emergencies or by mistake; otherwise, it stayed forgotten and idle. The kind of space buildings make by accident or for checklists. Paused in the rush of life. Concrete steps worn smooth in the centre from decades of people moving through without stopping. Exploiting them without a second thought. Broken things lined the corners, like a corner claimed by abandoned things. A rail gone cold - like the metal adopted the loneliness. A window that lets the light in the same way a tree talks in the wind, temporarily and without intention. The bulb had been flickering for years.
Had it always been like this? No one gave it the attention it needed. No one came here long enough to care. Vi came here long enough to care. She kept taking rattled breaths in a building that forgot to breathe.
She told herself it was the window, the quality of light and the lack of busy footsteps. It wasn’t like anyone ever used it, so, by default, it was hers. A logic she did not examine too closely; until she occupied it or was asked for it back, she’d keep it. Something just for her. A reprieve. A secret escape.
She stood with her hands bracing the cool metal of the windowsill. The ledge, which stole some of her warmth. Her back to the door, as if trying to convince herself she could ignore the world behind the said door. Her forehead rested on the glass of the dusty window. Eyes braced shut. So much for the sunlight. Behind her, the concrete steps stayed silent and ignored. Her jaw clenched tight, and the ache of her grinding teeth was the least of the pains.
Vi felt the shift before she heard the creak of the door hinges. The air changed — not warmer exactly, but less thin. Less tense. Like something had arrived to fill the space that the stairwell had never bothered filling for itself. A breeze of air hit the back of her neck before she heard the stranger step into the sanctuary she’d created. Then the smell reached her nostrils, winning the fight against previously stale air. She took a deeper inhale.
First, the sweet and creamy vanilla. Next, the hints of cherry blossoms wrapped in white tea. Lastly, the lavender. The fucking lavender. Entirely too wrong for a place like this. The kind of scent that belonged in rooms with billowing curtains and fresh afternoon light, not in her sanctuary. The sanctuary that was, in reality, just a dimly lit, slightly chilly set of stairs of the fire escape in a fancy Piltover hospital. It had a big enough window to bring enough warm sunlight and a sense of homeliness, but the harsh fluorescent lights kept her grounded in the grim reality of her existence. But as soon as the scent surrounded her, she imagined herself having a freshly baked cupcake, under a sakura tree overlooking a field of aromatic lavender. Vi's shoulders dropped half an inch, the muscles of her jaw relaxed, before she could stop them.
‘Who the hell are you?’ Vi huffed. Not a question – a wall. Her body was motionless, not turning an inch, controlling the doors of her wall. She didn’t want the stranger to feel seen, or even worse, see her.
‘Do you really care who I am?’ The stranger replied with no sign of anger or annoyance; an accented voice – unhurried words, syllables rounded at the edges, and Vi found herself holding the last of her exhale, not quite ready for the sound to end.
As soon as the answer came, she knew it wasn’t just Vi and her shadow anymore; the stairwell, for the first time in the two weeks she'd been using it, felt occupied. Not invaded. Not crowded. Occupied. The way a word feels different after you finally understand what it means.
‘No, I don’t. Get out.’ She stayed facing away from the door, and now the stranger, too, kept her eyes on the city outside. Her words came out before she could shape them, hateful and blunt in intention. A reflex rather than a true want. A mindless reaction, like the way her hands came up when someone moved too fast near her face.
Would she have changed her words if it weren't a reflex? Or had she gotten too comfortable with the familiar pressure of her wrist wrapped and her defences up – the only armour she’d ever known to put on.
‘If I leave now, how will I ever get acquainted with your oh-so-sunny personality!?’ the stranger said, sounding almost amused now.
‘You always this fucking sarcastic, or is it a Piltie thing I'm not familiar with?’ Vi responded with even more hate, lining her words. Why wouldn’t she hate Piltover? The city that had never shown her anything but hate, the city that had always abused her people and misappropriated their resources. So yes, hate was exactly where she wanted to live.
‘Are you always this rude? Or is this a Zaunite trait?’
Vi thought she could sense a slight annoyance in the way she responded. Bingo. Surprisingly, when she said Zaunite, there was no disgust in her accented voice, just an observation.
‘You’re too posh and too stuck up to be standing in this filthy stairway.' A pause. Vi finally turned and faced a girl as stunning and as pretty as that honeyed voice of hers. She was standing three steps down, arms loose at her sides, silky blue hair reflecting the sunlight from the window.
She could feel her heart hiccup. Concrete didn’t move, but here, now, Vi could have sworn it did. She turned and faced the city again.
Vi had seen pretty girls; she’d kissed a lot of them, too, but using ‘pretty’ to describe her was almost blasphemous. Something in her chest forgot how to be armour, as if she’d found her new religion. If Vi were a poet, she’d write a thousand poems trying to explain to the gods how beautiful this human was. If Vi were a mathematician, she’d construct formulas to describe the angle of her cheekbones, the curve of her waist, the dip of her hips, the length of her legs and the surface area of her skin she’d like to memorise. If Vi were an artist, she’d spend the rest of her life trying to capture the vibrant blue of her adoring eyes. Azure, cerulean, ocean, cobalt… What shade was it?
But she wasn’t any of those things, so she simply continued… ‘You’re also too pretty to be talking to a zaunite. I don’t like repeating myself, so get out.’ This time, she said it with a slight upward turn of her lips. A smile. She couldn’t help that part.
‘You look too sad to push away the only company, however stuck-up I may seem.’
‘Look around, Cupcake, if I wanted company, I wouldn’t be standing in a stairway all alone, and even if I wanted a friend, a Piltie bitch would be the last person I’d confide in,’ Vi spat out with venom coating every single word.
‘I was only offering company, but if you want a friend, you’ll have to be a lot nicer,’ she replied calmly.
‘Nicer? Look at me, do I look like the kinda girl who knows nice?' Her neck moved a little to glance back, but she stopped herself from turning it completely.
The girl with midnight-blue hair looked at her for a moment - unlike the people who usually looked at Vi, cataloguing threat, disdain, or pity. Simply observing. Her chin dropped half an inch, just briefly, like the words had weight she hadn't expected to say. ’You look like the kind of girl who stopped having the energy for nice a looong time ago. I'm not going to ask you to find it.'
The understanding Vi didn’t expect and the patience Vi wasn’t used to both landed somewhere she hadn’t braced for. It wasn't a performance.
‘Is it a normal Piltie fetish to psychoanalyse people against their will?’ Vi replied. The tone was a lot more even.
‘No, it’s actually a Caitlyn thing to force her company on pretty girls with sad eyes.’ The stranger sounded sure, too sure. Like she’d never had to raise her voice to be heard.
Caitlyn. Huh. Vi’s jaw moved, trying to figure out how her name would feel in her mouth. It didn’t sound like what she’d expected. The girl was meant to be all cold marble and rich architecture, but Caitlyn was soft. Vi filed the name away, like she knew she’d be keeping it forever.
She couldn’t stop her neck from turning completely. ‘Pretty girl with sad eyes?’ she repeated with a surprised slur, almost as if she didn’t expect such bluntness and sheer audacity from the girl standing across from her. And even less, soft words from a Piltie towards a Zaunite like her.
‘Would you prefer a sad girl with pretty eyes? Because that would also be true.’ Caitlyn said with such ease.
Words spoken so effortlessly, Vi almost disregarded her natural distrust of Piltovians. The smile found her face before she could stop it, and her eyes searched for something to land on, in Caitlyn's direction, just not directly on Caitlyn. She wouldn’t recover.
God dammit, why couldn’t she get her shit together? She whipped her neck towards the window…again.
‘I would prefer it if you left me alone, Caitlyn.’
‘I will, if you tell me why you want to be left alone or the reason behind those sad eyes. Or anything else you feel like sharing.’
Vi could hear the patience in her voice. Caitlyn had nowhere better to be, and genuinely believed it.
‘Why would I tell a stranger anything?’ Vi's voice was light and inquisitive.
‘Let’s change that then; let’s be friends.’
‘Caitlyn, leave me alone.’ This time, she said, meeting her eyes. The eyes that she knew were foreign, but felt familiar.
‘God, you’re exhausting. You must know that.’ A beat. ‘Why are you so angry?’
Vi twisted her body completely, back against the window, left leg propped up a little, forearms crossed at her chest. Her vision adjusted to the sheer amount of blue. Her eyes blinked twice, cataloguing the new hues. Midnight-blue strands, cerulean gaze, sapphire studs… long lashes hiding her reddened eyes, a rosy blush on her milky skin, the curve of her pink lips, a gold chain around her neck. Some weren’t blue, and Vi, too, knew it.
‘I don’t like repeating myself, but seeing as you’re not understanding, I will. Leave me alone.' Vi said sternly.
‘Tell me your name.’ Caitlyn folded her arms over her chest.
Vi’s eyes darted immediately to the movement of her chest. NO...arms. Definitely arms….and maybe the long fingers.
‘No!’ Vi meant to say it to herself to stop herself from lingering. Just not audibly, but whatever worked.
‘You know mine.’ Caitlyn replied. She must not have seen it as a slip-up.
‘I didn’t ask.’
‘Friendship 101, we start with names.’
Dear god, why wouldn’t she give up?
‘What aren’t you understanding? I don’t want to talk to a stranger about my problems…I…don’t want to talk to anyone. I don’t want to make a friend with a Piltie who’s probably never going to see me again and laugh about me to her other fancy friends. I don’t want to stand here and talk to a privileged girl who doesn’t understand my problems, who can’t even start to comprehend the issues that curse the people of Zaun. I JUST want to be left alone. Please.’ Finally completing her exhale.
Why was she still responding?
The silence that followed was the kind the stairwell was built for — heavy and unheld, the kind that sits under your skin rather than above it. Vi knew she'd been harsher than she needed to be. Piltie or not. The only person who'd offered to listen, and she'd taken a knife to it. Classic.
She made herself look at Caitlyn. She'd expected to find offence there, or worse — pity. She’d even take anger and loathing. Instead, she found something far worse. Recognition. Something that lived behind the composed jaw and the careful stillness. Something that looked, uncomfortably, like it had been a permanent resident. No, it couldn’t be; they had nothing in common.
Vi looked away first. Some things were safer unacknowledged. Wrist wrapped. Guard up. Same as always.
The stairwell did what it was built for. It held them. Quietly, without being asked.
Then.
‘Vi,' she extended her hand towards Caitlyn. She didn’t actively decide to do it, but she did nothing to stop it either.
‘Caitlyn,' she reached for Vi's already extended hand.
As Cait’s hand slipped slowly into her hand, she tried to ignore the tingling in her fingertips. Warm. Both pairs of eyes fell to their locked hands. One, two, three, long seconds.
‘Is Vi short for something?’ Caitlyn said, finally clutching Vi’s hand, and a timid smile found her face.
Her eyes looked up at Caitlyn’s face. ‘Violet.’
She said before she could even stop herself. What was it about this blue-haired girl that disarmed her so much? Maybe it was the fact that ever since Caitlyn touched her hand with such gentleness, Vi’s brain stopped actively fighting the world, much like her lungs stopped letting air in – just for a split second, and that was long enough for the softness to make an appearance. A softness long forgotten, just like her name.
Vi didn’t give out her name to people. She went by Vi. Blunt, short and forgettable. No one had ever asked her name, her actual name, not the one given to her by the harsh streets of Zaun. The other - the name that was too soft for the life she’d lived. The name chosen for her with intention by her uncle. The one her father had spoken last, and the one she hadn’t been able to say since. It lived somewhere she didn’t visit, not anymore.
That name was for someone else now, a girl she never got to be. A figment of a life that never happened.
She knew her face was stunned; what she didn’t expect was the same look mirrored in Caitlyn’s. One was shocked at having said it…out loud, the other, at being allowed to have heard it. Different sides of the same coin.
‘Like the flower…’ Caitlyn said softly. So softly.
‘Do I look like a flower, Caitlyn?’
‘A poisonous one, maybe,’ Caitlyn said tenderly, but held Vi’s eyes for a lingering second. Longer than the joke required. Maybe it wasn’t one, or maybe she forgot to look away.
Vi chuckled, loud enough to break the…the whatever that was, ‘At least you’re honest.’
Caitlyn glanced down at their still joined hands, then back up, finally releasing her grip. When she let go, Vi felt the cold air against her dropped palm. Her hand flexed, like something waking.
Caitlyn tilted her head and shifted her expression - not a smile, it was something far more deliberate. The kind of look that knew exactly what it was doing. Vi felt it land somewhere she hadn’t thought to guard, and that realisation came a little too late.
‘So now that we’ve established names, you want to share all your deepest secrets and your darkest fantasies with me?’ Caitlyn said with a menacing voice.
Yep, she knew what she was doing.
What else had Vi expected? And suddenly she wondered how much this had happened by chance. The door. The scent. The patience. The way Caitlyn held her hand for the right amount of time. Had any of it been a beautiful coincidence, or had Vi just been that transparent? Something she’d think about later. Alone. Staring at the ceiling.
‘It might take a while; you may want to sit down.’ Vi's eyes moved to the steps. Why was she still entertaining this?
‘Are you inviting me into your humble abode?’ Caitlyn’s arm dropped to her side again. Her shoulders relaxed a little, and Vi realised she liked her more this way.
‘Hardly! It’s a public stairway.’
Caitlyn shook her head. Her lips pressed together to stop the smile that was so obvious. ‘You really know how to ruin a good conversation.’
‘One of my many skills.’ Vi clicked her tongue at the end of that sentence.
‘You have other skills?’ Caitlyn raised a questioning eyebrow.
‘Punching, can I interest you in that?’ she said, taking a small step towards Caitlyn.
Vi was expecting her to move back on instinct, as most do, but she took an intentional step towards Vi. Interesting.
‘I have a very important meeting in a bit, so maybe we can revisit that idea after, unless of course you’re set on it.’ Caitlyn said flatly. Her accent screamed seriousness.
Caitlyn's words, though...Vi couldn’t tell if it was sarcasm.
‘I’m afraid the offer is only for now; probably won’t see you again.’ Words uttered from a place of insecurity Vis hadn’t had before today.
Before Caitlyn.
‘My loss, I guess.’ Caitlyn held her gaze, probably to ensure Vi would know the loss would be felt.
What Caitlyn — and Vi wasn't sure — was whether they both meant the same type of loss.
‘Hmm,’ Vi purred. She didn’t notice making the noise.
Vi climbed up to sit on one of the steps, and she felt Caitlyn move down the stairs. A presence that lingered close, not too close. Or maybe not close enough.
‘May I?’ Caitlyn asked, her voice unsure.
As if Vi would say no.
Vi paused. Took in an intentional breath. She needed both. ' ‘I don’t own the building.’ Vi said after a beat.
‘No, I do, but I still don’t want to get punched.’
Vi didn’t say another word…just shifted slightly to the right, head raised and looking directly through the window opposite her. Hands resting on her knees. A silent offer. For a place. Next to her. Obviously.
She told herself it was because Caitlyn could actually own the building and Vi didn’t want trouble, but only the rhythm of her heart knew the actual reason. And it would stay there.
Caitlyn finally bent down and sat on the step. Both their backs were facing the door, shutting out the rest of the world. Looking out into the world through a window in front of them.
‘Sooo…’ Caitlyn said. Her lips wrapped around the single syllable, intentionally drawing out the sound for longer than needed.
‘Sooo…’ Vi said, mirroring her tone.
‘Want to talk about it?’ Caitlyn's body was still. Too still.
Vi felt the warmth radiating from Caitlyn’s direction, although she wasn’t sure if it was from the sincerity of her voice or the closeness of her body.
‘Which bit, the dark fantasies or the deep secrets?’ Vi said as she chewed the inside of her mouth.
‘Why you’re sad and why you look like you’re drowning, Violet.’
Violet. She wasn’t prepared for that. Fuck.
Vi smiled and took a few breaths. Three to be exact. ‘Are you always this blunt?’ Vi asked with a tilted head.
‘Do you always avoid meaningful conversations?’
‘Do you always seek strangers out to have a meaningful conversation with?’
‘You’re my first. How am I doing?' Caitlyn turned her head in Vi’s direction.
Vi tried hard to keep hers still, but it was her eyes that lost the battle and rolled towards Caitlyn. ‘We haven’t had a meaningful conversation yet.’ Vi's neck followed.
‘Whose fault is that?’
‘Probably mine, but excuse me for not wanting to spill my guts out to a stranger.’ Vi huffed.
‘Who better to spill your guts out to?’ A pause. ‘It’s like a one-night-stand, but for feelings.’
‘A…whaat?’ Vi’s eyes narrowed in confusion. Her body jerked to face Caitlyn now. Fully facing her.
Caitlyn sat up straighter like she was preparing for debate club. ‘You can tell me anything, and I can tell you anything, no fear of judgement, no fear of unmet expectation and no fear of rejection. You talk, I listen. Think of it as writing in a journal – just unfiltered feelings. No need to overthink if you’re saying the right words, if your problems are too small or if you’re being a burden. I talk, you listen… and from where I’m sitting, a stranger who wants to listen is as good a risk as any.’
‘A stranger? I thought sharing names made us friends? Sharing such intense shit should at least make us best friends…Should we get matching tattoos first?’
‘That comes after,’ Caitlyn replied, almost too confidently with her pouty lips.
Vi’s eyes dropped for half a second before she could redirect them. Stop. She redirected them.
‘Oh, I see. We have to survive the emotional wreckage first and then commemorate it. I respect the process.’ Vi said as her head moved up and down.
‘Precisely. Trauma first and tattoos after.’ Caitlyn leaned her back against the opposite wall, relaxed now. They sort of mirrored each other. Except for the obvious difference.
There was pregnant silence. They held eye contact, but no one spoke. The stairway held the silence with them. The only noise was the rustling of Vi leaning against the railing, head tipped back to rest on it. She raised her arms to rest them on her propped-up knee.
Then, softly, ever so softly that Caitlyn almost missed it, Vi whispered, ‘I don’t know if I can.’
‘Because I’m a stranger?’
‘Maybe.’ Even as Vi said it, she knew that was not the reason.
Every synapse in her brain was working overtime against her heart’s wishes to talk to Caitlyn. And keep Caitlyn talking longer. Sitting longer. Staying longer. Just here, longer.
She just didn’t know how to… she’d never been one to speak about her feelings. Her go-to method had always been punching the feeling out, until she couldn’t feel anything except the physical pain.
Had anyone taught her there was another way? She didn’t remember.
‘Gimme your phone, and no, I’m not giving you my number.’ Caitlyn's eyes narrowed.
‘Ever?’ came out of Vi’s mouth too quickly.
‘Not until you ask…. Now, phone, please’ Caitlyn held a hand out, palm side up, between them.
Vi remembered being held by the same hand, mere minutes ago. Her hand twitched.
Vi handed her the beaten-up old phone. She saw Caitlyn tap a few times, then take out her own phone, tap a few more times, and then return Vi’s phone to her. Placing it more gently than it had ever been placed, evident by the scuffed and cracked screen.
Anger issues that no one needed to talk about.
‘What did yo—’ Before Vi could finish her sentence, Caitlyn interrupted
‘I put something in your calendar and mine.’ Caitlyn's hand retreated to rest on her lap.
Vi followed the action, and her own eyes landed on the other girl's legs. Look up.
Vi waited for something. Maybe permission to speak. Maybe the sound of her voice again. She ran her thumb along the cracked edge of her phone screen without looking. She knew where all her cracks were.
Eventually, Vi broke the silence. ‘Are you going to tell me what it is?’
‘A reminder…You don’t want us to be strangers, so let’s not. We’ll meet in ten years. That’s long enough for you to forget about this…us...in this stairway. However, if you wish not to forget this, consider the reminder a reunion of sorts. With a forgotten friend, of sorts.’
She noticed the intentional breath Caitlyn took. The way her chest rose in panic. And Vi wondered if Caitlyn, too, made this up as she went along.
‘You really want to hear my sad story, don’t you, rich girl?’ Vi said.
‘As much as I want you to hear mine, darling.’
Darling. Even the stairwell held its breath. Just give up already, Vi.
‘And what if I still don’t want to talk?’
Caitlyn straightened her back. ‘Then I’ll get up and leave.’
Vi’s jaw clenched as soon as the words left Caitlyn’s mouth. Her teeth gritted against each other until she unclenched them.
‘Do I still get the option to see in ten years, which is very dramatic, may I add?’ Vi said with a confident smile. A faux-confident smile.
‘It’s already in our calendar, so why the hell not?’ Caitlyn shrugged.
‘What if I don’t turn up?’
‘That’s your prerogative.’
‘Prerp…what?’ Vi's pitch was higher than usual.
‘Choice, your choice, just like I have mine.’
‘God, is your whole life always this planned?’ Vi said, with a roll of her eyes.
She saw Caitlyn’s jaw tighten before she looked directly into her eyes. ‘Yes.’ She didn’t look away when she said it, which somehow made it worse. The stillness of her hands. The effort to keep her posture. The angle of her chin. It wasn’t a ‘yes’ of a happy person, or even a content one.
To Vi, that yes sounded like something was hiding between the spaces. Something Vi was also running away from. And that may have been the saddest thing Vi had seen.
‘What happened?’ Caitlyn continued, too fast.
Two very simple words, Vi could answer with as much or as little detail as she wished. Or no words needed to be exchanged; it wasn’t like she had a gun to her head. Although that would have been easier.
Talking meant someone would listen. She wouldn’t drown; she could share the pain of losing people she loved. She talked herself out of it before her exhale finished. Not to a stranger. Not to her. Things weren’t so bad. And she doubted things were that dire for the privileged girl.
How did Vi know Caitlyn was privileged? The tailed fucking clothes. And the posture.
And Vi, she could talk to people if she wanted. She just didn’t want to.
What was the point of talking when no one ever helped, and all that everyone could give her was pitying looks and fake sympathy?
And Vi definitely didn’t want this stunning girl with the most intense blue eyes, across from her, to take pity on her. Nope. Not going to happen. She believed it. She convinced herself.
Almost.
‘You want the short version or the long?’ The words came out steadier than Vi felt. Like, if she did it right, it wouldn’t hurt as much. A dare wrapped in a white flag.
‘I have the time and patience for the extra-long version, but I’ll take any.’ Caitlyn hadn’t flinched when she said it.
Neither had the stairwell.
Vi decided that was enough.
White flag acknowledged. Apparently, they were doing this.
Somewhere above, the bulb had stopped flickering. Neither of them noticed.
Vi took a deep breath and spoke: ‘My mother is dying, my father died months ago. They worked on a chemical farm. Bad working conditions, radiation and a government that doesn’t give a shit really fucked them up. I can’t watch a second parent die in as many years, and I don’t know how to protect my little sister from losing both her parents. Everything is falling apart, I have no one, and I have nothing. The perfect combo. I’m drowning, and I want to let go, but I know that’s selfish. I have to take care of Powder. Might drop out of Uni, at least Powder could still go. The last of our money has gone into the medical bills. I’ll probably be working for the rest of my life to pay off the leftover medical debt. Maybe I could sell my kidney. Are you looking to buy a kidney from a Zaunite?
Vi hadn't taken a breath. If she took a pause, she knew she wouldn't find it in her to be able to continue.
‘Depends, is it healthy?’ Caitlyn replied, matching her register exactly. No pity. Just an acknowledgement.
‘So far, yes. But God, I would love to spiral at the bottom of a bottle right about now.’ Vi's head now rested on her arms, bracing her knees, as if the weight of being her was too much.
Or maybe it had finally lifted, and she was left not knowing what to do with the emptiness it left behind.
‘Sadly, I don’t have one on me.’ Caitlyn said, her tone hadn't changed.
Vi felt Caitlyn's body closer, just by the way warm air wrapped around her. Then gone, a second later.
‘It’s okay, I can’t right now anyway. I’m talking to a pretty stranger, and after that I have to take care of my mother or sister or someone,’ Vi said with a flick of her wrist in an almost unbothered manner.
Caitlyn took exactly two seconds before she spoke up. ‘Who’s taking care of you?’
‘I don’t have time for my feelings; I’m kinda busy right now.’ Vi said. She wasn’t! She was?
‘I could take care of you,’ Caitlyn breathed out, filling the middle distance. Then closed her mouth with a gasp, like she was still deciding if she meant the words, but Vi had already heard them.
Vi’s jaw tightened before Caitlyn had even finished. ‘No. No, you really couldn’t. Vi picked at the edge of her sleeve. ‘Plus, my two settings are running orrrr punching, and neither of them ends well for the people around me. Trust me, I’d ruin it.’ A beat. ‘I already know how it ends.’ Vi felt steadier than she should have by the end of.
Why wouldn't she? Vi was self-aware enough.
Caitlyn let out a small laugh. ‘You should probably get your wrists checked then.’
Vi let out a humourless laugh. ‘I will, as soon as I bury my mother. Priorities, you know.’
Caitlyn didn’t look away. She didn’t reach for the right words. She just absorbed it – the way Vi imagined a person who had learned that reactions would cost. Like she wasn’t allowed to react. Only understand.
Then Caitlyn spoke. ‘Anything I can do to help?’
Hold me in your arms and let me break. Vi hadn’t known she wanted it, not until she thought it. She definitely hadn’t needed it, not until Caitlyn had touched her hand.
Vi filed that realisation away in the same place as Caitlyn’s name and spoke. ‘Distract me with your problems, pretty stranger of fire escape B. Is it B or C?’ Vi’s fingers found the hem of her sleeve. She didn’t pull it down, just held it there.
‘C. You want me to confess my sins or admit my failures?’ Caitlyn said as she traced her ring.
A gold ring on her pinky finger of her left hand. A signet ring of sorts. Vi couldn't be sure. She also couldn't ask. Could she?
Vi swallowed on nothing and instead asked, ‘Any. But I have time and patience for both.’ Vi said with a coy smile.
And then Vi waited.
Caitlyn was quiet for a moment. Vi kept waiting. Caitlyn smoothed an invisible crease in her trousers – once, twice – then stopped, like she’d caught herself doing it. ‘You’re right, I have a privileged life, but it’s not mine. Any part of it. Every part of it was decided before I was old enough to have an opinion - my school, my career, my future. My mother already has someone picked out for me to meet at Christmas. I haven’t been asked…I have a plan for every year of my life until I’m forty, maybe even fifty. I get managed, not loved. I got into a prestigious college for one of the most competitive courses, and my first thought was Will my mother be pleased, Not me, her. And she wasn’t because she had already expected it of me. I have never had a bad day that wasn’t reframed as an opportunity before I’d even begun crying. My surname has opened doors for me that you would kill for, but now I’m so far down the corridor, I can’t find my way back. I feel like an understudy who never gets told what the actual play is. I've been performing as Caitlyn for so long that I genuinely don't know what's left underneath it.'
A pause. Not a comfortable one.
Caitlyn continued, 'I don't think I've ever said that out loud before.' She looked at her hands. ‘I have everything, and I'm still waiting to find out what I actually want…I don't know what it feels like to not have to earn love. I’m a result, not a person,’ She said to the window. Not to Vi. Almost as if she needed to say it out loud to find out if it was true, but wasn’t ready to face anyone when she found it was. ‘I just want to be enough, without the perfection…. I don’t even know if I’m unhappy or just selfish…and I’m exhausted by how ungrateful that sounds. You got any spare love for poor little rich girls you meet in fire escapes?'
‘Lucky for you, I usually keep some spare under my pillow for emergencies.’ Vi meant it more than she made it sound.
‘Could I buy some off you?’ Caitlyn's voice was resigned. She dropped her head and rested her cheek on her forearm wrapped around her propped-up knees.
‘You don’t need to buy love, Caitlyn, or earn it. People either love you or don’t. It’s love; it’s supposed to be simple and unconditional. Leave the complication to bankers and their mortgage applications.’
Caitlyn scoffed. ‘You fill out many of those applications?’ She said with a raised eyebrow.
‘No, I have to be eighteen.’ Vi replied with a banker's tone.
Caitlyn's eyes circled. As if tracing Vi's face with just her eyes. Caitlyn spoke, ‘You won’t make it to eighteen if you don’t stop and take care of yourself; you’ll fade into a version of yourself you no longer recognise.' Caitlyn took a very intentional pause. Stilled her eyes on Vi's and then continued, 'You’ll get too lost taking care of others, and when they don’t need you anymore, you won’t know who you are.’
Vi blinked. ‘It can’t be that bad…You don’t know who you are.'
‘…and here I am talking to a stranger about how lonely it feels. I’m saving you time.’ Caitlyn rolled her eyes.
Something shifted in the air between them, the same way as when the door had first opened. She felt it in her shoulder before her brain caught up. Something about what Caitlyn said settled right on top of her feelings.
‘You didn’t say lonely, you said unhappy.’ Vi said. Not as a joke or as an observation. There was a question underneath it.
Are you really lonely, Caitlyn? Is that what I recognised in your blue eyes?
Caitlyn's lips did something so small that if Vi had blinked, she'd have missed it. Vi hadn't blinked. She saw the fear in the way her mouth shut.
Then Caitlyn let out a small laugh and spoke. ‘Can’t I have both? I paid extra.’
There was a silence again. Not an uncomfortable one. Just one that sits under your skin knowingly. The stairwell held them and their confessions, without meaning to and without being asked. The concrete under them was cold. Neither of them moved to leave.
It was not comfortable.
It was not beautiful.
It was just theirs — and that, it turned out, was the same thing.
Vi sat there a little while longer. Caitlyn hadn’t moved either. In her presence, familiarity was growing like a flower she hadn’t planted. Her lungs were breathing in the same air of sadness as Caitlyn. It felt, uncomfortably, like belonging. Her heart did something at the realisation.
Vi closed her eyes and inhaled. Lavender again. She smiled and opened her eyes. ‘You were right.’
Caitlyn tilted her head. ‘About?’
‘Talking to a stranger does help.’
‘I have to practice being this right all the time...' Caitlyn paused and looked around — not with her body, but just her eyes. 'Why this stairwell?’
‘Why not?’ Vi shrugged.
‘Do you always avoid answering questions?’
‘Yes.’ Vi hesitated before continuing. Might as well. ‘I share a loft with my little sister. Whenever she has nightmares, we grab her stuffie, leave the room, sit on the stairs and talk about it.' Vi smiled at the memory of Powder. She continued. 'Stairs are non-judgmental, and they always lead somewhere.’
Caitlyn smiled tenderly. ‘Didn’t peg you for someone so poetic.’ She said, tilting her head slightly.
Vi glanced at her sideways. ‘Be careful with that word around me.’ She couldn’t hold direct eye contact this time.
Caitlyn's forehead wrinkled. ‘What word?’
‘Peg.’
Caitlyn blinked. Once. The kind of blink that bought time. The corner of her mouth pulled in a direction it was trying very hard not to pull. Her cheeks were definitely pinker than before. ‘Is that another skill on your ever-expanding CV of toxic habits?’
‘If you were on the receiving end, you wouldn’t call it toxic.’ Vi said with a smirk.
‘What would I call it then?’
That question landed differently than Caitlyn had intended. Or maybe exactly as she had. Vi couldn’t tell, and that was a problem in itself.
Vi sat back up and looked back at the city. A beat. ‘You want to find out?’
Caitlyn laughed – a real one, a surprised one out of her. The kind of noise Vi wanted to collect. Every version.
‘You took the idea of a one-night stand too literally.’ Caitlyn said through her laugh.
Vi's breath hitched when she saw the gap between Caitlyn's teeth. Then she smiled.
‘Have you looked at yourself?’ Vi looked out the window. Still not quite brave enough to say it to her face. ‘You can’t blame me for having eyes.’
‘You really have no self-preservation instincts, do you?’ Caitlyn chuckled and shook her head.
Vi smiled. Slow. The kind she didn’t give out often. ‘Probably! My loss.’ she said it lightly. She meant it heavily, and they both knew it. Neither of them said so. Vi continued, a little too quickly, ‘But how do you know?’
‘You’d rather lose yourself in someone than sit with all of that. It’s easier, I know, but I'm not going to give you that because that’s not what you want. You know that.’ Caitlyn delivered that line like she had all the facts.
Vi's heart did something. Again.
‘I don’t want to fuck you,’ Vi said after a pause, and the meaning of it sat in the air between them for a moment.
‘I believe you,’ Caitlyn said quietly. No hesitation.
Did she actually believe that? God, if she did, she needed to stand in front of a fucking mirror. Vi didn’t want to cheapen whatever this was between them with something as simple - and as complicated - as wanting her. And Vi had learned a long time ago that wanting something that much was just a more complicated way of losing it.
Vi had given more of herself away in the last, however long they’d been sitting here, than she had in the last two years, and Caitlyn didn’t even need to ask twice. That should bother her more than it did. So no, she didn’t want meaningless sex, like she was any other girl. She didn't want to fuck her. She wanted approximately seventeen other things first. She’d want her in ways that had nothing to do with talking. She’d thought about it since the lavender. She’d felt it since the hand. She wanted to hear every version of her voice. She wanted to see every blue of her.
Vi was not stupid, though, nor was she blind…she’d noticed. All of it. All of her. Under any other circumstances, any other day, she would have wanted her differently and done something about it. But it wasn’t any other day; this, right here, was something that didn’t have a name.
And Vi had exactly one working strategy for things without names - feel it quietly, on her own, and no one needed to know, not even her. She looked back at the city.
‘Now that we established you don’t want to fuck me and we’re not exactly friends, aaand we left the station called strangers a couple of confessions back, where do we go from here?’ Vi said instead of telling Caitlyn how stupid the sentence she'd uttered actually was.
‘You got anything else to get off your chest?’
‘A lot. But I’m mentally exhausted. You?’
Caitlyn sighed. ‘A lot.’
‘So, what now?’
Caitlyn straightened her shoulder. ‘Now you close your eyes, and I leave. No awkward goodbyes. No sad eyes and absolutely no expectation.’
Vi gave her a tight-lipped smile. ‘You really have a plan for everything.’
‘When you live my life…you…I—’ Caitlyn took a deep breath before continuing. ‘I have to plan my every move, because my steps are always being assessed.'
‘But no one really sees you?' Vi said softly. Vi only spoke this softly with Powder.
‘It can’t be that bad. You’d rather punch than be seen. You seem to be doing fi—’
‘Don’t say fine, because I’m not, and neither are you, princess.’ Vi interrupted.
Caitlyn's eyes rose. Then she smiled. ‘From Piltie to princess, I must have made an impression.’
Vi mirrored Caitlyn's smile and looked at her. ‘Yeah, you did, stranger,’ she said with an almost arrogant tone.
Vi noticed the warmth in her own voice.
The concrete did too.
Hopefully, Caitlyn did too.
Vi didn't want to stop talking. This was new. Easier too. For once, it didn’t feel like a chore or something to survive. She should have found a reason to leave by now. She knew that. Her feet hadn’t moved. Didn’t even attempt. She should have. But…there was a pull, an ache in her chest that had no name, and she wasn’t going to give it one. It wasn’t something she had any control over; it just was, and her body wanted to just give in, but her brain hadn’t caught on. Yet.
Vi wondered, briefly, if Caitlyn felt the same, because she hadn't moved.
They stayed in that stairway. Maybe an hour, maybe two. Probably more, but neither of them counted. It was the kind of space that existed between floors — between the place she’d come from and the place she was going — and that was, Vi thought later, exactly right.
They were both in between things. Suspended. Stairs had been practising for years.
Outside: hospital continued. Corridors, gurneys, the low-frequency hum of machines.
In here: She and Caitlyn, on a step, voices barely above the sound of the building breathing. Sharing things she’d never dare verbalise to anyone else, not even herself. Vi suspected Caitlyn did too.
The stairwell stood witness.
When all was said and done, when both were exhausted from giving their demons a fleeting escape and their insecurities a place to land, Vi had simply closed her eyes and leaned against the bannister. When she opened them, the space beside her was empty. Her heart felt emptier than it had ever felt.
Lighter too.
Vi sat with it for a moment. Fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve that she still hadn’t let go of.
The cold was creeping in where the warmth had been. The empty step.
The stairwell that had gone back to being just a stairwell.
She pressed her palm flat against the empty step. Just for a second. Then she took out her phone.
Ten years, Caitlyn had said. She scrolled to 2026, and she saw it. The reminder was already there. The date was already set. She hadn’t asked for any of it, but she hadn’t stopped any of it either.
Event Name: Fire Escape 2.0
Date: 2/6/26
Invitees: The Privileged Piltie
Location: Jericho’s Diner – The one closest to Piltover General Hospital
Time:
Time was left empty.
She looked up and saw it then. The bulb had stopped flickering. At some point while she wasn’t paying attention, it had simply stopped. She hadn’t noticed that either. Then she looked down and breathed in the silence once again.
Vi edited the Invitees field – The privileged Piltie – deleted. Replaced with a cupcake emoji.
Vi closed the phone, stood up and left. Before exiting, Vi took a deep inhale one last time.
Lavender. And cupcake.
~~~~~~ IIVIIIVI ~~~~~~