ᴀᴅ ᴍᴇʟɪᴏʀᴀ ~ ᴅᴘꜱ (ꜱᴛᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴍᴇᴇᴋꜱ)

18 - of all the stars above

author's note: i usually put these at the end but i'm just warning y'all, this chapter is over three times as long as the average chapter for this story, so maybe set aside a lil extra time to read. enjoy!

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November 11th.

I look down at the watch on my wrist, the skinny minute arm barely legible under the pale moonlight.

7:58 pm.

My eyes drift back up to the rusty fire escape above me and meet the decrepit structure precariously staring back. I gulp.

"Couldn't have just left the front door unlocked..." I mutter to myself, hiking my leg up onto the ledge. After safely positioning myself on the landing, I look down at my hands. They're covered in bright orange rust.

I'm glad I didn't wear anything too fancy...

The rest of the ascend is mostly uneventful. I run into an abandoned bird nest on the second to top floor, causing my heart to ache slightly. Memories of the winged loner from the day after the party flood my mind, but I shake them away. After a few sets of grimy ladders and serious consideration of whether or not this trip was worth it, I hear the chatter of two boys accompanied by a soft humming noise.

"Meeks, it was working earlier. I don't know what to tell you." I don't recognize the voice.

"Well, make it work now! Adjust the antenna. No, not that- Pitts. Just give me it. God, this timing could not be worse."

I know the second voice all too well.

"It's fine, stop spazzing. I know the genius himself isn't used to his inventions failing, but calm down."

"I am calm!" His voice cracks mid-sentence. I stifle a laugh, preparing to finally pull myself onto the rooftop.

"You don't sound... what was that?"

I pop my head above the edge, straightening my arms away from the lip. The two boys, about twenty feet away, jump, fumbling the large device in their hands. The smaller boy, Meeks, pushes the hardware into the significantly taller boy (Pitts, I assume)'s arms.

"Ivy, you made it!" He jogs at an awkward pace to come and help me, leaving his roommate to continue fiddling with the radio. He takes my hand and hoists me up.

"Yeah, no thanks to you," I grumble. "Next time, add some instructions in your letter, and maybe don't expect your date to climb the fire escape." I attempt to brush the rust off of my pants. It only smears the mess further.

His smile falls. "Oh. I'm sorry, I didn't-"

"It's ok," I interrupt, holding out my hand. "You can make it up to me later."

He looks puzzled for a moment before realization slaps him. The impact looks harder than Amy's "message" for Knox earlier this week. The boy blushes and clears his throat, once again taking my hand and leading me back towards Pitts. I notice a blanket sprawled out on the ground, anchored down by four unlit candelabras. A picnic basket sits on the left edge.

"I don't believe you two have ever been formally introduced. This is my roommate and fellow Welton prisoner, Gerard Pitts." Meeks motions up towards the dark-haired boy. Pitts waves uncomfortably, shifting the radio in his arms. A dissonant shriek erupts from the contraption, piercing through the night air before reducing back down to a comparatively quieter static. Meeks and I instinctively cover our ears while the roommate hastily turns some knobs and dials.