Missing: Naomi Morgan

Beloved Daughter, Friend and Dancer

Help us get our baby back

If found please call!

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING? YOUR FAMILY MISSES YOU," CAIRO HUFFED.

"It's more complicated than that—" Naomi tried explaining, the words refusing to leave her head as they, along with millions of others, began to crawl, walk then sprint all in the space of an instant. A missing person's poster? She thought only caring, distraught families made that much noise in Riverside. Her's was more likely to wait in silence. And she was planning to have them wait forever.

In hindsight, she supposes, it was a ridiculous thought to entertain and she couldn't help but wonder if this part of them was what her little brother was referring to. The silent conversations they had that she never seemed to hear through the walls of the Morgan home. The parts of her parent she never knew existed.

"Isn't it?"

Before Cairo could continue, Saint stepped forward. "Naomi, your family is torn up about you leaving."

She was about to ask how they could ever know that. They didn't know the Morgans, their silent stares and obsession with being perfect all the time, everywhere— even in their sleep. But that thought didn't last very long.

"We went to your house," Lia said. There was a sad tone in her voice, like disappointment. "I don't think you thought any of this through. Running away is harder than it looks. You give up everything, you know. For the people you once knew, it's like death, but worse because they know you're out there, somewhere, but they know they'll never get to see you ever again anyway."

Naomi felt something bitter claw at her throat. Perhaps that's why her next sentence came out a little shaky, but it was better than the whimper she felt coming on. She looked up at each of them, especially Chyna who was still staring at the poster in her hands, and with helpless lamentation she said, "I can't go back."

Cairo shook his head. Saint's voice levelled the room calmly. "Why not? You still haven't old us anything, Naomi."

Naomi huffed. "They don't get me." It sounded pathetic and stupid and meaningless but it was all she could choke out when everyone's gazes were stuck onto her and a wetness she was sick of threatened to wash her face.

The Bull laughed loudly at that. Saint turned to say something to him but the other boy's face hitched onto Naomi's like a hook jutting into skin. In a heartbeat, his voice filled the space. "This isn't a charity! We don't take in stray little girls that run away from home just because they're a little misunderstood. There are real people out there who are actually forced out of their homes! Whose families disown them and have nowhere else to go! You? You could stroll through your front door right now and there would be fireworks sounding off. So, what is all of this for, Naomi?" Just like any other explosion, you never quite saw the danger coming until the blast had already knocked all of the air out of you and you were seeing fire reach for you like a tsunami. "Go home! We won't wait around until you feel better."

Saint clutched Cairo's shoulder and patted the spot, whispering something to the boy under his breath. "You think it's that easy?" Naomi snapped back. She took steps forward. "You don't know half of what I've been through!"

Cairo laughed. The sound of it in her face, loud and heartily, accentuated by the impossible look in the boy's eyes and the stillness of everyone else in the room. "Tell us! Please, tell us, you self-absorbed, attention-seeking bitch! No, better yet," he was still laughing painfully and it was ringing in Naomi's ears like the aftermath of nuclear explosives, "Tell it to Chyna, who saw her sister die in front of her at the hands of an officer and was about to serve time for it. No, no, no, tell it to Sully whose entire family turned to ash when he was eight and has been living on the streets ever since!"

"Cairo!" Saint gripped the boy's shirt and went to stand in front of him, shooting him down with a glare before throwing him off. The Tiger was not stepping down this time. He had slipped out of the skin of a carefree boy and into a pelt striped with dominance and superiority. "Stop," he growled.

Cairo's eyes held murder and spite. Through his trembling teeth he still seethed, "You know nothing about tragedy. In a week, you'll be running right back to your perfect family. Consider this your head-start."

"That's enough!" Saint boomed, but Cairo had already walked off, leaving nothing except his words to linger in the spot where he used to be. And so it was that for the first time, Naomi looked around the room of the basement and the walls began to narrow. Her heart picked up.

In a corner, Lia was hugging an inconsolable Sully. The girl looked up at her once, her eyes blank, before returning to comfort the boy in her arms again. Chyna was sitting atop a table, her hands holding her knees as she stared back at her. She said nothing, but she didn't have to. Naomi knew that she could not defend her. Cairo was right. In front of herself, Naomi saw Saint. She hadn't realized that he was standing so close but she couldn't move away either. There was no going back now.

"Don't I? I spent my-my whole life, everything, trying to please them! I broke so many parts of me I can't even tell the difference anymore," her voice was ragged between breaths as the words physically burned her throat, "My best friend died and I spent weeks pretending that she was still alive. Weeks. I went into that house, into that Academy, and nobody even asked. No one. I was alone! Then my father cheated on my mom for god knows how long and— and she knew. And she accepted it.

My brother is beaten to a pulp every day and their too busy being perfect to even notice. He's fourteen! I don't know tragedy? Then why do I want to cry every time I think about who I've become? Screw you! I know tragedy! I am tragedy!" Every single word had run from Naomi's mouth like a city dam broken free and now, she was shaking.

Nevertheless, the four walls of the dark basement and everything in between at least, was still. For the first time, The Guise was quiet.

Going home would mean going back to an empty house and meaningless conversations. It would mean seeing the face of the first man who broke her heart. It would mean watching her brother deteriorate instead of grow. It would mean seeing the Riverside Dance Academy but never being able to reach out and touch it like a throned rose. She knew here, in the musty basement surrounded by people she'd only known a little over two days, she was about to make a life-defining decision. Though there was so much she wanted to run from, there was nowhere she could run to, so Naomi Morgan stood and looked each of The Guise in their frightened eyes.

"I'm not going back. I can't. There's nothing for me there anymore."

For a while, nothing was said. Chyna held her waist and looked to her feet with an exhale. Lia was still whispering encouragement into the ears of a cornered Sully.

But Saint wasn't quite done. "So if you're not going back to home, where are you going?"

Naomi's eyes darted to each of them in the room. Ben would never keep her away from her parents even if she begged him to, Aspen had her own family to deal with and Naomi's extended family hardly knew her. Who else did Naomi have except for the boys and girls before her, looking at her as if they'd known her longer than they really did.

"She can stay with us," Chyna said, gripping Naomi's shoulder less like a fox and more like a fierce, brave lioness.

Cairo turned his back but not before he gave an exasperated look to the dusted ceiling of their small basement. When Saint asked her if that was what she really wanted, Naomi was suddenly aware of how dry her mouth had become and that the spot where Chyna's hand was used to be a spaced reserved for Jessica. She grit her teeth and nodded.

"Bad idea. She's not like us," Cairo sung.

"This isn't some fraternity initiation, Cairo. She wants to stay, she can stay. Imagine what would have happened if you left me behind, or Lia, or Su—"

"You guys are different."

"Are we?"

"Yes. We are. We have nowhere left to go. Naomi here has everything. Always had." Then Cairo looked to Saint. "And we have to leave Riverside anyway. Cops are getting wiser."

Saint thought. It was all over his face, actually. He never shifted his gaze but his eyes narrowed and his shoulders crossed. Behind him, Cairo waited in silence. Then he gave his jurisdiction. "You can't make a decision in the state you're in. We're going to give you a week. If after the week you still want to stay with us, you can. But what we do, Naomi, it's not easy. Think about what this means and think hard." Finally, he turned, walked over to the steps and ascended it. Cairo followed soon after, and the basement remained in silence.

Author's Note

Well, damn.

This week's dedication belongs to because she actually dances ballet and she gets all the subtle references and everything! It's good to know that my research wasn't in complete vain. Remember if you vote and comment the next dedication could be you! It's really that simple! I just wanna see you!

But yeah, this chapter is a little wild, guys. What did you think? More importantly, whose side are you on, #TeamCairo or #TeamNaomi? Hm, and what do you think about the power struggle between the characters and their dynamic? Let me know everything in the comments below!

IN THE NEXT CHAPTER...

In the dark of their small basement, it felt like they were sharing secrets. She supposed if she told him everything and didn't stop, no one else was awake to repeat it. The stars would turn their backs and the moon wouldn't shine too brightly on them.

Saint outstretched his hand for her to take...