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What an intriguing time to be alive. I never thought I’d be driving -blindfolded -with Willow’s arms around my waist.
When I offered to drive us via bike to keep things on the down-low, she didn’t question my state of mind like anyone else who acknowledged my disability first and my capabilities second.
Willow always made me feel like I was living the best version of myself and being bonded with her only accentuated that sensation. She was empowering us in ways we wouldn’t catch onto at first, and I could only imagine what we’d all become in a few months with Willow in our lives.
Christmas was so close, and before we knew it, the New Year would be here.
It’s time to put our feet down and get our shit in order so we can start this new year with Forbidden Enterprise running, and anyone who dares to betray us at the hint of our downfall will be thrown into the pits of their graves.
Accelerating further, we zoomed through the lanes, my usual world of darkness blazing with neon colors in all directions. The energy was always wild on highways. The brewing auras came from those driving the numerous vehicles on the road and the vibrating power that made the very street illuminate in metallic gold. The cars always held a different shade of color depending on the brand, model, and even the fuel they used. Electric cars carried neutral shades that were rather dull in comparison to the rest of the world around me which was always odd to me.
Jayce had briefly explained it to me when he’d let me tag along to dealerships and NASCAR races so I would be able to differentiate the auras that surrounded the cars both in standstill or speeding down a track or road.
It was one of the reasons why I could even drive like this.
After our conversation with McClair, I wondered if what he said was true.
That my disability would fade away and be healed thanks to my connection with Willow.
It sounded like a wishful dream, one I wanted to sink into and never wake from. If I did get my sight back, I wasn’t sure if I’d be okay with abandoning my blindfold. Oddly enough, it had become some sort of comforting tool - a piece of fabric that shielded me from a lot of negativity that surely would come my way if I wasn’t disabled.
Whether people liked to admit it or not, when many saw a blind person, they immediately showed sympathy and expressed a level of kindness they wouldn’t to a normal individual.
My status didn’t change the fact that many pitied me at first glance. Only some would eventually be envious and their energy would display their true feelings when it came to my presence and obvious success.
A blind artist to many wasn’t worthy competition until they saw your artwork and the gratification it received from the public eye. Many artists believed that due to my lack of sight, I’d never be able to create spectacular pieces that tugged at people’s heartstrings or even project my emotions upon the canvas to make people understand how I felt.
They simply underestimated me…
That was their problem, and it also proved that they weren’t solely in this career path for the passion aspect.
Painting was my outlet from the chaos of the world. It was a way to project my emotions that I would bottle inside as they desperately fought to escape. This was my way of expressing a glimpse of what goes on in my mind, body, and soul.
Now that I was older, wiser, and stronger, this passion turned into one of my fun hobbies to enact my revenge on all those who dared cross over the boundaries of my packmates and me.
Especially my Forbidden Queen.
We arrived at the same time as the pizza driver.
“Neo? How much pizza did you order?”
The way I smirked as I took the helmet and watched Willow happily steal the four boxes of pizza from the driver would make one feel like I was going to embark on a killing spree.
I guessed the driver was worried I’d do that because his face was growing paler by the second.
“We may get hungry later,” I calmly reasoned and looked to the driver as I got off the bike. “Are the cans of soda in the back?”
He swiftly nodded before he pondered whom to give the bag of chicken wings to.
“Here,” I voiced and only further spooked him as I walked up to him and offered my hand. “I can see your energy. Don’t get too nervous. It’s insulting.”
“S-S-Sorry, sir,” he apologized with a bow of his head to avoid my blindfolded stare while I took the bag without trouble.
“Willow? Do you know how to get to the studio?”
“Mhmm!” She beamed and was gone so fast, I could only chuckle.
“Note to self: set the alarm to make sure Willow eats.”
