(I'm seeing Hobo Johnson live tomorrow :DDDDD)

It's a, it's a, It's a, it's a- 

Typical story where the bassist kills the singer, the guitarist and the drummer find they're in love with each other

Water does not taste better in a wineglass. It is still water. You glance at Maven from across the table. He's looking at you. You blush. He blushes. You both turn away. Your father shakes his head, returning to his meal.

You sit in the seat meant for Evangeline. You were her twin, as tragic as that is. But she sadly passed away a few weeks ago. An accident. But the Queenstrial remains active. The show will go on, as your mother would say. 

You look at Maven again, sipping your water. Some things taste better in riches, don't they?

It's the story of the kid who clearly won't know what to say when the love of his life starts to calmly walk away

You remember walking out onto that arena. The power that flowed through your skin. Is this how good it felt? Does it feel like this every time?

You wish you had never felt it. Because now Cal chose you. And Maven got the girl you had thrown out of her seat. It isn't fair. You want to cross your arms and crawl into a hole and die. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. Even Cal knew that. 

And it's the story of the kid who just wants to make a record, loves and crafts it but nobody ever, ever cares about it

"Cal, you weren't supposed to choose me."

He placed a warm hand on your forearm and looked you in the eyes. As a child, you used to be scared of him. He was always bigger. Never head smart. Anything that came out of his mouth could be countered with the simplest of knowledge. Maybe that's why you preferred Maven.

He smiles. "We already knew Maven would be forced with Mareena. Choosing you is the only way you'll still be able to be with him."

You almost spoke before thinking. Cal would probably call you a filthy courtesan. You keep your mouth shut.

"Thank you, Tiberias."

"You're welcome, wife."

His words left an icky feeling in your stomach. But you need him alive, don't you? 

Well hey, hey what's your name 

talk is for the guys you hate

Laying on the floor does hurt your back. You wonder if Maven feels the same way. You lay your hands on your stomach and turn to look at Maven, who's face is right next to yours. Oddly, he insisted on laying the opposite direction of you. Odd. Oddly romantic.

You think you'd prefer laying on your own bed next to him, his hair falling on tangled blankets and stained bedsheets.

"I still hate that I have to marry your brother."

"Would you rather leave, (Y/N)?" The words and be without me don't come out but you know they're in there. I mean, it's pretty obvious. You guess you're not that smart.

You roll over, leaning your head over his. Your hair falls onto his shoulders. "I'd rather marry you, Prince Calore."

He laughs.

"I might just die."

You touch your nose to him, holding yourself up on your elbows.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

We should sit in silence while we think of what to say

He just lays there with a smile, waiting for you to do the inevitable. You try to hold a serious face but it doesn't work. You just want to smile.

You kiss him. For the first time, like ever. Upside down kisses are to die for, you convince yourself. It is sure as hell is fun. 

When you pull away you both sit up and go in for another one.

Hey, hey I don't think this is working out 

Will you forget I even asked you to come over to my house

Cal rolls his eyes at you, cracking his knuckles before jokingly punching the dummy you ordered to have brought into the training room.

"I could burn that thing to the ground if you wanted."

"I'm well aware, Sir Calore." You pat the head of the thing, smiling to yourself. Pure frustration sings in your veins, draining your body with blood and filling it with oil. "But today I want to watch you kick. Look at all your muscles. What did those come from, push-ups? Look at your legs. Have you kicked something in your life."

And hey, hey I don't think I know much but I know I couldn't take a good punch

So if you feel like I've been talking enough 

He scrunches his face together, not following your gaze as you scan his body. He looks you up and down but doesn't say a thing.

You raise a finger. "Can you kick it, please? What if you're handcuffed."

Just tell me to shut up and I will gladly shut the fuck up

He kicks it in the head. The rubbery head bounces and hits you in the temple. 

Cal laughs. You try not to laugh. You try to be mad. But you look at Cal, who's neck was turning silver. Embarrassment? Anger? 

You laugh, too. 

He points at it, giving you a small cocky smile. "You kick it then, wife."

And so you did, knocking it down to the floor in one quick swoosh. 

"Can you do that?"

I'm afraid of everything staying the same or worsening 

So what's the point of finding calm when calm to me is unsettling

You grab a fork, morphing it into a mound of metal. It moved like ocean waves, rippling and transforming into a liquid current. You kept it mid-air, watching it. Maven sits next to you, breathing heavily. For no particular reason. For a while, you've just been watching his chest fall and rise from the corner of your eye. 

Quickly, the contraption formed into a long bar with pointed ends. It flies across the room, landing in the bed frame and cracking it. Maven turns around, looking at his bed frame. He looks at you.

"Really?"

You shrug. 

His eyebrows knot. Is he mad at you? 

He turns away from you, leaning his head away in the other direction.

You can hear your heartbeat in your head, pulsating your skull. Is he really mad at you? And for what? For who?

Settle down, little kid, your bones are shaking in your skin 

Go and try and take a breath, though nothing more, nothing less

You go to Elara, bowing your head to her. You do not lift your head as you speak.

"And when is the exile of Mare and Cal? Soon, I hope."

A small smirk comes onto her lips. She just tilts her head at you, eyeing you with her piercing gaze. The smirk turns into a grin, which turns into a smile.

She can see your dead eyes, the light that always shined in them was dead.

"You would want to know, wouldn't you?"

It's a, it's a, It's a, it's a- 

Typical story of the king who had it all except for citizens who didn't want his head up on a wall 

You stand next to Maven on the throne, your hands on his shoulder. You and Elara share a knowing glance at each other. She nods, hiding an evil grin. You grin for her. 

You look around the room and focus your energy on your hands. He's warm. So warm. It's relieving. 

"I love you, Maven Calore." You whisper down at him. The twitch of his fingers shows that he had heard. The silence in the hall lays soft on your shoulders. He takes time. You lean in, waiting for his response.

"I do love you, too, (Y/N) Samos."

He spoke like you were testing him. You purse your lips.

it's the typical story of the wife who couldn't quit being in love with such a giant piece of shit

You sit in Maven's study with him. It's all you can get these days. He likes his solitude. You can see it in the bags under his eyes. You aren't allowed to sit across from him, though. He doesn't like that. He rather wants you in the corner, sitting in a chair not so comfortable. He doesn't care what you do. As long as you don't bother him.

You want to talk to him, to hold him close. You recall the times he wanted you to touch him. He couldn't be in the same room as you without glancing your way. Now he pretends you don't exist. What is wrong with him?

You just stare at him, watching him go through letters. It unease you. What does he need to look at? Who is talking to him?

Standing up, you begin to walk closer to him. You can feel the metal of his crown and the badge he wears on his right breast. He doesn't look up at you as you stand over him. 

All you can do is wrap your hands around his shoulders, placing your chin next to his ear and holding him tight.

"Why won't you be a little nicer to me?"

Maven sighs. He folds the letter in half, hiding it from you.

"I don't need anything from you right now, (Y/N) Samos."

it's the story of the queen who could never, ever think of any redeeming qualities a man could ever bring 

You sit in the training room. Last time you were here it was when you two were still in love. Maven went against the Osanos. You went against Mareena. It was fun, as horrible as you say it. You remember the anticipation. You remember how hard it was to not glance at Maven and see how he was reacting. Was he scared for you? Was he proud?

As you think about it, you probably know what he was thinking. He was scared for Mareena, wasn't he?

Ever since his mother died he didn't even like seeing you in the hallways. What was wrong? What had happened?

So now you sit alone, throwing knives into the chest of the dummy you remember kicking down with Cal. He never was able to kick it. 

You almost miss having him as a friend. He may have been an asshole but at least he smiled whenever you laughed. He didn't gaze down at you with a grimace every time you took a breath.

it's the story of the dog who wanted to run away 'til he learned that his life is way safer inside a cage

"How sad are you?"

Someone said from behind you. You felt no metal on their body. Not a guard. Not a servant. Not Maven. You turn around.

A man stood there, swirling the wine in his wine glass. You look at the glass. It makes you blush. 

He smirks, "well."

His blood-red eyes look down at you in your seated form. Does he want to hear your answer? Suddenly, you can't remember the last time you were spoken to. But you recognize him. He's that red, isn't he?

"Are you a red?"

"I am."

Why are you here?

He sits down next to you. "I can see the future."

You blink. So he knew what you were thinking. Does he know you are thinking this? He looks at you. Perhaps. It is stupid to ask. 

"Will you answer my questions?"

He lets out the ghost of a laugh. You look him up and down. He sits like a girl.

"Silvers are selfish, aren't they? All you want to know is about yourselves, your lovers. You haven't even asked me my name yet."

"I know your name, Jon." 

He doesn't act surprised. He must have seen that coming. Horrible. He smiles. 

"What questions would you ask, if you could?"

He is a teaser.

You lean back, never taking your eyes off of him. "Aren't you supposed to know that?"

"It is my job to know the answers, is it not?"

I don't really need much just a place to be alone and you won't really see much

"You wouldn't come here unless you wanted to tell me something, right?"

He is quiet. You pause. You go through the millions of questions you have. You are almost embarrassed. But he is patient. He sips his wine quietly.

"You are here to tell him about Mareena, aren't you?"

"Ah, what a great question."

"Not very selfish now, am I?"

He places the wineglass on his lips again. You wonder if he knows how that was the same glass you once drank from as well. You can see the carving you made on the bottom. Maven's name.

"Very selfish. You want him for yourself, don't you? I know who you are, (Y/N) Samos. You love Maven. Maven keeps the past close to his heart but his mind is somewhere else. In fact, I'm not sure it's anywhere. I guess my job is to keep it here."

"How poetic, Jon."

"Thank you, (Y/N)."

I think that I'm invisible; my mirror shows another guy - a guy who doesn't do shit, he just sits and is miserable

Sitting at your vanity, you replace missing powder on your face. Your wine-stained lips and neck needed some less red. Jon sits on your bed, touching the whole in the frame.

"It was originally Maven's." He says. You nod. 

"I think that's the moment he stopped loving me." You look down at the wine glass sitting on your vanity. Riches suck.

"You believe he stopped?"

You shake your head, letting his words bounce off of you.

"I am afraid I have worded that incorrectly to how I feel."

"You may be correct."

His words send goosebumps through your body. You stiff, only for a second, but he notices. Jon closes his eyes, falling back onto your bed. His long, silver hair lays still on your tangled blankets and stained sheets.

Everybody's got a live a life that they didn't ask for

You look back at Jon, sitting next to him. You do not lay by his side. You sit, sit like the queen you were supposed to be.

"And you said he marries another girl?"

His long, veiny fingers brush against your spine.

"I said you two would never wed."

"Who is she?"

"(Y/N) Samos."

You speak fast, interrupting his next words. "He calls me that and you know that. Jon, why does he call me by my full name? What is the use? He never even gave me a nickname. No lover, no honey. Only (Y/N) or (Y/N) fucking Samos. Hell, even Cal called me wife!"

Jon doesn't answer and instead lets his palm soothe the stress forming in your muscles. You hate the silence in your room. You were supposed to share this room with Maven. It's the only thing you thought about when you walked into it. 

"Did you give a nickname to Mareena?"

He speaks quickly. "Mareena was her nickname."

You grab Jon's hand, wrapping it in yours as you lay down next to him on your bed.

Hey, hey what's your name, talk is for the guys you hate 

You walk to your room, holding a glass of wine in your hands. Another night cold since Jon stopped visiting. But everything happens for a reason, doesn't it?

You grab the doorknob, jumping when a warm hand wraps around yours. You look up to a pair of blue eyes.

"I'm sorry."

You blink. Maven holds a stern face, but his eyes try to repress the feelings his heart beats for. You know you shouldn't forgive him. It doesn't seem like something you should do. You should kill him for the pain he has forced you through. All you do is sip your red wine before placing a kiss on his lips. 

His lips were already Red-stained to you anyways. But tonight, you don't find yourself minding