"Mercy? You made a deal with the devil and you expect me to know what you mean? I gave you your wish, now live with it." 

Those were the last words my great great great grandfather wrote of from the man who cursed us with this 'gift'. 

A deal to always be famous, his name, his legacies, us. My sister and I and any future children from us or our family. What came with that fame was a great cost, as when my bastard ancestor wished for that fame, he never specified the type of fame one could get. Only that it must be got. Always.

There was no way to reverse it. 

It became a curse, make it big or let fame find you...

My sister was now a victim of that. As the thoughts roamed through my head, like clockwork I moved with the beat of music to the dance routine I'd been practicing for weeks. Each breath that escaped me came out heavier than usual. 

I was going to get her here soon, help her get famous too. But I'm not even there yet myself. The intense stare of Yoongi just waiting for a mistake was proof of that. Waiting to give another reason to have me run more laps. I've already done three times the usual. The floor shivered slightly in front of us as I slid to the left. 

I graze my foot against the surface of the floor before dancing forward then back. Memories of my sister's voice kept me going. She had an amazing voice, but all they cared about were looks. My purples eyes was the difference between us that put me on the map. They weren't just purple, but a strong amethyst like shimmer and color. Shocking enough that in public I'll often wear special reading glasses that deflect some of the color. Even my dancing I knew couldn't have been enough. Hell I still have to pretend to be a guy just to get in.

In the moment, that acting was feeling just slightly less worth it than usual. The damn bindings were so stiff against my chest that as my lungs kept unusually pressing for more and more air, it felt like I was being crushed in the hands of a giant. 

But I had to be a guy, cause I needed to get in as fast as possible and this was it. My demeanor was too cold for a girl they said, when I auditioned before, but when they thought I was a guy, it was 'cool'. A lot of people can dance and sing, I'm not special. 

The pressure gets worse. I step back and left. Crap I meant to go right! Yoongi starts a steady pace toward me. Probably going to point that out. My breath comes out louder and quicker. The shivering of the ground becomes more fuzzy. His frame fades in with the floor and the walls. Just colors. More thoughts of her embrace me. As if the heat and my speeding pulse were more from remembering she's gone then anything else. 

The news said it was the first time ever someone in California died that way. That horrifying. I accidently step left again. My hands reach out for a surface to grab but my grip falls on my jacket instead. My arms feel heavy like stones. 

Yoongi is getting closer. Why are his arms moving so fast? His legs? Or maybe I'm just moving so slow. 

The bitterness I felt toward her death pushed onto him as he got closer. So close. Something was grabbing my shoulders. There was yelling. 

"Jace!"

In this blur he's kind of beautiful, like a water painting. Such a nice voice. So unordinary. Maybe that's why he's so famous. What was fame to him? I hated fame. I realize now its his hands touching my arms, are they shaking me or is the ground still unstable? He feels so real, so warm, so... mortal. How did he hide not being human? 

"Jace?!" Why is he yelling right in my ear? I can't breathe anymore. 

Yoongi was suddenly gone. All I could see was black.