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"Wake up! Wake up!"

The opening lyrics of a conveniently-titled death metal song blasted out of her cell phone, signaling the start of her day. It wasn't the morning, or at least it barely wasn't, but it had been a number of years since Melody Bennett had woken up at a time with an AM behind it. As far as she was concerned, seeing the sunrise meant you'd stayed up late, not that you were waking up early. She groaned and rolled over in her bed, groping around for the screaming smartphone, tapping the screen to make it stop. The song wasn't exactly a gentle alarm, but it did make it harder to ignore.

"Mmn... up at the crack of noon. Time to say hello to another glorious day," she muttered to herself, climbing out of bed onto still sore feet.

The routine never changed. Her coffee machine was set to start brewing right when she woke up, she'd make some overnight oats that were sitting in the fridge from the night before, and then it was time to drop down on the couch and do a sudoku on her phone while she cued up a television show she'd already seen a million times through to binge yet again.

The phone in question was brand new, and that television seemed like it took up most of the wall, not to mention the speakers on either side of it that could never be turned up nearly to their full potential thanks to living in an apartment. Her furniture, luxurious. That coffee machine in the other room would put any professional barista to shame. Even her sleepwear was designer.

Yet, like Melody herself, it was a whole lot of opulence that decorated a foundation far less attractive. Beauty wrapped around decrepitude. Her apartment was nothing special, a two bedroom sure, but not in the best area of town and she constantly had to drop emails to her landlords to check on the water heater or because the oven wasn't working right. A beautifully adorned trash heap.

Such was the life she had chosen. A career where her main income was off the books, cash from the patrons and the occasional gift from those who got overly attached. Her "frequent flyers" as she'd gotten to call them. None of it was declared on her taxes, the cash stayed held in a safe in the apartment rather than going into a bank account. As far as the government knew, all she was getting was a meager wage as a dancer.

"I can't believe you're not on VIPRoom," Cheri said to her one night after the club closed.

"On what?" Melody asked, taking a drink from the free drinks the club owner let them have after hours.

The jaguar laughed, shaking her head. "How do you not even know about VIPRoom! It's an app, like a social media thing."

Melody snorted, a typical plume of smoke flowing from her nostrils. "Yeah, I'm good. You know I don't use any of that."

Cheri shook her head, "No no, it's not just like that. It's like... you get subscribers, they pay however much a month and get, you know, exclusive content?"

The unicorn lifted a brow, "You mean cam shows."

"Well, if you wanna put it that way," the feline grinned. "Point is, girl, it's a place where horny guys all over the world will pay good money for little videos and pictures you can do from home. Barely any work, lots of pay."

"Uh huh. Are you on there?"

Cheri sipped her hard seltzer. She wasn't much of a drinker. "Guilty. I don't get a lot, but you? A unicorn? I bet you'd make more in a month than you get here in a year."

Melody thought it over, looking down at her glass, watching the last bits of ice take their last gasps before melting away entirely.

"...Pass. If I'm gonna get world famous, I'd rather it not be for spreading my pussy open on camera."

That caught Cheri off guard. She shrugged. "You do it on stage now."

Melody let a single, humorless laugh out through her nose. "And I'm not known worldwide for it. I think I'd like to keep it that way."

World famous Melody Bennett. A few years ago, that phrase hadn't seemed so ridiculous.

Standing in front of a sea of gawping faces was a part of the unicorn's life for as long as she could remember. Her first memory, in fact, was at her own fourth birthday party, dressed in a shimmering gown complete with tiara, posing for photographs with every present. The items themselves were less important than the pictures that could be taken with them. She couldn't even remember what they were, just striking practiced poses with each while the crowd oohed and aahed at her.

Melody's adoptive parents, a pair of small kangaroo rats who never seemed to stop talking, had raised their special little girl to be shown to the world. They entered her in pageants nearly from the day they got her home, sparing no expense on outfits, travel arrangements, whatever was needed. Her father joked that if they could have, they'd have submitted her ultrasounds into beauty contests.

Every movement in little Melody's life was closely watched. She was taught how to walk, how to speak, what expressions were acceptable, and who she was permitted to socialize with. Actually, that last one would be an exaggeration. Even outside of the normal ostracism that her kind experienced, the Bennetts didn't even let their girl attempt to make friends outside of school. There was no time for that.

Instead, Melody's days had a rigid schedule. Wake up at sunrise, a healthy breakfast, some light yoga, then off to school. As soon as she got home, a lesson with one of her private instructors. Vocal coaching, ballet, the violin. The Bennetts insisted that the young foal be well-rounded, not for her own personal betterment, but because they wanted her to have more to show when it came to pageants as she got older.

For her part, Melody's passions never resided alongside her parents'. As much as she soaked up the praise they gave her, and the adoring sounds of audiences when she paraded herself up on the stage, she found it all so... dreary. Hollow. For all the talk about being unique, a singular wonder of nature on this planet, she was never allowed to truly explore herself. Instead, she was given a rigid set of rules to follow, a path to tread that had barbed wire fences on either side of it. A little wind-up doll named Melody, raised to be displayed to an audience and then locked away when not in use.

Most teenagers rebelled against their parents by doing drugs, having sex, or sneaking out to go to concerts after bed. Melody Bennett studied. The hiding spaces in her bedroom had textbooks and notepads, her browser's history tucked away collegiate websites with academic papers. Whenever she wasn't under the watchful eye of her parents, Melody hid and let her mind do something it never could otherwise: grow.

Her parents wanted her to be everything an exotic hybrid was believed to be, a genetic marvel, made to be admired from afar. She wanted to be something more.

All the while, Melody Bennett continued to collect ribbons and tiaras, sashes and trophies. She never let on that she'd grown to despise the world she was entrenched in and everyone who inhabited it. Plastic smiles with too many teeth that didn't reflect in their eyes, rehearsed speeches and empty questions that the emcees, contestants, and audience all knew the answers to. Every step on the walk was perfect, every word of her responses flawlessly rehearsed.

"And... in first place... Melody Bennett!"

It was the same sequence of sounds every time. The announcement of her name, the cheers from the audience interspersed with hisses and boos from the families of the other girls and the pockets of outsiders who objected to Melody's presence entirely.

"Of course she won," Melody could hear behind her, the word "she" given as much acid as the speaker could muster.

"There's no point in entering, it's never going to be a fair contest," came another voice.

By the time she was in high school, Melody actually began to work harder than ever to win those contests. Just to spite every single purebred bitch and her bitch parents. To show that she could beat all of them even without giving a single shit about the contest. While they had their hopes and dreams on being some model for the world to ogle, she was going to beat them every step of the way with every intention on walking away the instant she got the chance.

All that changed one day, after an exam in biology class.

"Miss Bennett, I need you stay after school for a few minutes."

That abrupt, matter of fact declaration from Ms Buford took Melody by surprise, the rest of the class as well. A soft, elongated "oh" from the other students indicated what everyone thought, that she was in serious trouble. The biology teacher was a round little bat with glasses so thick they distorted the generally angry eyes behind them, and she wasn't known for chatter when it came to her students. By and large, either she was letting you know what you'd done wrong, or she didn't talk to you at all.

Melody swallowed, her throat going dry. "After school?" she repeated. Her mind raced, trying to think what she could possibly have done. Did she glance at another student's test without realizing it? Did she just appear to? She had a lesson not long after school ended, what would her parents say if they found out she'd gotten in trouble?

"That's what I said, yes. We need to talk."

Mercifully, it was the final class of the day, so Melody wasn't forced to sit through other periods agonizing over what fate was in store for her later that day. Instead, she got to sit quietly, waiting until the final bell chimed and her classmates emptied out, leaving her behind.

As soon as it was only her and Ms Buford (Melody never did find out if she was married), the unicorn hurried over to the large desk at the front of the room.

"Ms Buford, I don't kn-"

"You got a perfect score on today's exam."

The unicorn paused. That should have been good news, but somehow it made her heart freeze.

"I... I did?"

The bat nodded. "Mmm-hm," she replied, the final syllable coming out high and sharp.

Melody wasn't sure how to respond. Her mind raced, trying to connect acing a test with being kept after class.

"I... I wasn't cheating, I swear! I just studied really hard, and I g-"

"Miss Bennett, I'm well aware you didn't cheat. You're the top student in the class. If anything, I'm more suspicious of anyone sitting next to you."

Another beat of silence passed between the two. Melody was at a total loss, starting and stopping her next sentence several times before finding a set of words to use.

"Then... am I in trouble?"

The bat glanced down at her desk, the exam in question still in her hands. "Today? No, but I suspect you will be sometime soon. I've been asking your other teachers, and I'm curious, how many colleges have you applied to?"

Melody's brain short circuited entirely as the conversation went in a direction she had not at all expected. It was true, they were near the end of her junior year, and many of her classmates had been talking about college plans. Meanwhile...

"Um... none, Ms Buford. I just, I've been busy, you know? I've got a lot on my plate, and I guess that hasn't felt like a priority?" she said, her own answer coming out like a question.

"Mmm-hm," the bat sounded, exactly the same as before. "I know all about that. Rehearsals, pageants, practices and performances. Never a moment's rest for Miss Melody Bennett. And despite that, you're still doing better in your academics than nearly anyone in your grade. Riddle me this, Miss Bennett, do you think that's going to be a long term career for you? Flouncing about on stage, when you've got so much potential?"

Ms Buford continued lecturing her on the importance of a higher education and what it meant for a long-term career, how beauty is fleeting and Melody wouldn't want to be in her thirties auctioning old trophies off or doing photoshoots in nudie mags to pay the bills. Every awful thought about the pageantry world that the unicorn had when she was alone in her bedroom being said aloud, and in an accusatory tone, right towards her. As if she was a part of it. A fire grew in Melody Bennett's stomach, and before she was able to force it back down, it erupted.

"I hate those fucking pageants! I hate the modeling, the photoshoots, those snobby bitches and every creepy old motherfucker staring at me when I'm on stage!"

It wasn't something either of them had expected.

For several seconds, both sat in rock silence, just staring at each other. Ms Buford was trying to piece her way through her student's sudden outburst, and the student was just praying that she wasn't about to get in twice the trouble for for it. Finally, the bat blew out a breath and leaned forward, her elbows on her desk.

"Miss Bennett, do you know why I asked you to stay after class?"

The unicorn shook her head.

"I thought not. It's because, my dear," the words came out sounding far less amiable than perhaps intended. "You are a top level student who, I had perhaps erroneously believed, was set to throw her future away because of those competitions. Once I heard that you had yet to apply to college, I had feared that you would be graduating high school and then turning your back on academia. For someone with your potential, even while so much of your time is occupied with... those things... I was hoping to dissuade you from going down a career path that was so shallow. Though now I suspect I was incorrect in that, mm?"

Melody fidgeted in place uncomfortably. She felt another bubble growing in her stomach, but not one borne of anger. This one, desperation. For the first time, one of her teachers was addressing her for her intelligence, talking to her about her future. Ms Buford wasn't the warmest of her teachers, but maybe she could be a lifeline.

So Melody Bennett opened up. About all of it. The agony of weekends spent at competitions, lessons at home for nothing but a checkmark on the list, her dreams of hearing her name announced for winning something more substantial. A prize for work in a field that mattered, where she contributed something to the world, solved a problem. Not because she could walk in a straight line and happened to be born with a look people fawned over.

Once she was done, the bat considered it all a moment, then snickered.

"What's so funny?" Melody asked.

"You know... you find yourself in a unique position. I know you do very well in those competitions. I know you've got many in town talking about a future in modeling. Yes, word travels quickly about the beautiful unicorn. But you've got a passion to make a difference in other ways. If I'm right, these could go rather nicely together."

The unicorn's brow creased, a frown on her face. "I don't..."

Ms Buford leaned back in her chair, hands folded at her middle. "You're someone who commands attention wherever you go. You will always have eyeballs on you, and have been up to now pursuing a life centered around getting as many of them as possible. Miss Bennett, how many people do you think read science journals compared to how many watch a swimsuit model competition? How many biologists are on the covers of magazines?"

When she was greeted with silence, the old science teacher nodded. "Mmm-hm. So you're someone who has a platform to speak to large crowds, and a desire to have a real effect on the world. You could use that. I admit I know precious little about the ins and outs of what you do, but if Hollywood has taught me anything, you do get chances to speak during those competitions, yes?"

Melody nodded.

"So... why not use that opportunity to say something more substantial than wanting world peace or whatever other fluff answer everyone gives. Perhaps you don't have to pick between being a body and a mind. Perhaps you can be both."

Suddenly, Melody Bennett had a new mission in life.

There was renewed vigor in Melody's preparation for her next competition, and her parents took notice. They praised her focus, something that they'd notice was waning in recent times. She was less prone to ask how much time was left in a given lesson, less distracted. She was even more attentive in school. After all, the unicorn needed to be at the top of her game on both sides. The next time she was on stage, she was going to seize her moment.

"What the hell was that all about?"

Melody sat in the back of her parents' oversized SUV, arms crossed and pressing as far back into the seat as she was capable.

"What was what about?"

Patricia Bennett made as much of a growl as a kangaroo rat could. "You know damn well what I'm talking about! That little performance you put on up there!"

Melody sniffed indignantly, her shoulders hunched and her eyes down on her feet as the family sped back towards home.

"I didn't put on a performance! I meant every word of that!"

Her mother huffed, tapping away on her phone. She'd been recording the entire contest, ready to add it to the collection of triumphs. For years, Patricia had made sure to document her daughter's career, so to speak, wanting to have a library of her early years. Something she could show off when Melody became an international star. This one, though, contained something she wasn't sure she could bear to keep evidence of.

A loss.

The small rodent angrily left her video where it was, but shut the screen off again. "I doubt that very much!" she squeaked. "I don't know where you found that speech, but that stunt cost you the competition! Going on about... about vertical farming and... carn... carniv..."

"Carnivoral instincts."

"Oh, of course! Carnivoral instincts! What's gotten into you? Are you trying to sabotage your career?"

The unicorn swallowed hard, feeling her eyes starting to well up again. She'd worked harder on preparing her answers to any questions from the emcee than ever before. She'd stayed after school with Ms Buford, drawing up a host of topics she could bring up, important issues facing the world and how she thought they could be solved. This was one she was especially proud of. A deep discussion on how artificial meat cultivation both damages the environment and also only reinforces the desire of carnivores to taste blood, and that vertical farming of alternate protein sources that sated the nutritional requirements without indulging the predatory instincts could make inroads towards inter-species unity.

So when the silver fox with the too-wide smile asked her what could be done to make the world a better place, she was prepared.

What she was not prepared for was to have her name read as a runner-up, and for the dove who gave a sickeningly trite speech on "trying to find common ground despite our differences" to get the award for best on-stage interview.

Truth be told, Melody wasn't sure which hurt the most. Losing the competition, or that her passionate answer had gotten snubbed.

The teenage equine with the eye-catching accoutrement thought about opening the car door and just diving out into the road, letting herself get flattened under the tires of a nearby eighteen wheeler (if she was lucky). Her heart hurt and her stomach was in knots.

"No! I thought... I thought if I said something that actually mattered, then maybe..."

Her father piped up, having mostly sat quietly while the Bennett women had their argument. Though he wasn't quite as engaged as his wife with their daughter's activities, Tyler Bennett was just as invested in her success.

"You're not up there to give a college lecture, Melody! I don't know what you were thinking, we've gone over your answers to those questions."

"But dad, those answers are so... typical! They don't mean anything! I wanted t-"

"It doesn't matter what you wanted, you're supposed to say what we rehearsed! You're not trying to get a Nobel Prize, it's not a dissertation for your doctorate! You go through your steps, say what we practiced! That's how you win!"

Just like that, reality came crashing atop Melody Bennett's head. Ms Buford was wrong. Her platform wasn't going to give her an opportunity to change the world. The judges would make sure any radical deviations from the script got snuffed out before they ended up on the big stage. She was expected to be nothing but a wind-up doll, going through the motions she was instructed to. She wondered how many of those other girls thought like she did. How many of them were also hiding behind their plastic smiles. How many thought of her as she had of them.

Melody had a hard choice to make, and make it she did.

"Do you understand what I'm saying?"

The Bennetts sat on opposite couches in their expansive living room, with Melody on one and her parents on the other. It had taken every ounce of energy she had to get the words out, each one of them feeling like they were encased in lead and needing to be heaved across the room. She fidgeted in place, her parents hardly able to make eye contact with her. Melody felt like she'd just told them that someone had died. In a way, she had.

Her mother took a deep breath, looking up and making eye contact once more. "And you're positive there's nothing we can do to change your mind?" she asked, a faint bit of pleading in her voice.

Melody shook her head. "No. Believe me, I've spent longer than I can even explain thinking about this. Mom, dad... that's not me. I'm not made for that life. I need to do something that matters. I feel like I can actually make a difference."

Another few seconds passed. Finally, her father sighed, shaking his head. "Well... if that's your decision, then that's that. We can't force you to do anything you don't want to."

The equine felt a weight lift off of her shoulders. For weeks she'd been dreading having this talk. After the disaster that was her last competition, there had been an agonizing silence in the air of the Bennett home. Melody had expected her parents to immediately start prep for the next one. She expected the lessons to double, for them to watch her extra closely and tell her exactly how things were going to go next time, but they didn't. No mention of another competition. Nothing. As it turned out, they were waiting for her to make the first move.

Melody blew out a breath, feeling the heat of unease go out with it. "Thank you. I know, this is a lot. I just want you to know how much I appre-"

"But you won't be doing it with our money."

The teenage equine froze. "I... what?"

The small rodents looked at each other for a moment, then her mother took her turn to speak. "Well, if you're so insistent upon... forging your own path, then that's just what you'll be doing. You're more than free to turn your back on everything we've worked so hard to set up for you, but you can't expect us to foot the bill."

Just then, Melody Bennett had another difficult choice to make. One that was going to be much harder than the last.

She met with the guidance counselor at school, with teachers, looking for any advice they could give her. It was a difficult position to be in. Scholarships were difficult to come by thanks to her parents income level, and they weren't willing to co-sign on any student loans. What few paltry grants Melody was able to apply for would be a drop in the bucket compared to what the expected costs were looking to be. Either she had to lower her expectations, perhaps attending a state or community college, or she had to come up with some way to pay for the several hundred thousand dollars those for one of those elite universities she'd been pinning her hopes on.

In the end, Melody took the third option. As soon as she had her last day of high school, she left. No goodbyes, no warnings. One day, the Bennetts came home and their daughter was gone, the unopened replies to her applications still sitting on her oversized dresser.

If she wasn't going to be able to attend, she didn't want to know if she'd gotten accepted.

Melody drove, and drove, and drove. She didn't know where she was going at first, just that she needed to get away from the Bennetts. If they didn't want to be a part of her life, her real life, then she didn't want to be a part of theirs. After she cried out all the tears she had, she made the decision to drive out to the city where her dream college lay. She'd get a job out there, the sight of its campus a daily reminder of why she'd left home, and she'd save up the money to attend. If it took a hundred years, she'd get into that school, and then she'd make sure her parents got buried with her diploma.

A teenager with only the money she'd thought to sock away for emergencies wasn't destined to have an easy time landing in a big city, though. An early victory of getting a decent apartment was met with the looming defeat of her savings running dry. She had no work experience, no real world skills. The only thing on her resume was a litany of beauty pageants and modeling work, and the last thing she wanted to do was rely on her looks for money.

At least, that was her original plan.

It didn't take long before she was nearly flat broke, with bills running past their due dates as she had to prioritize where her money went. A lifetime of spoils where a "budget" was something that someone else worried about left her entirely unprepared for the harsh reality out from under the Bennetts roof. The only jobs that were hiring were minimum wage hell, not even enough to keep her afloat. Melody had to come up with a plan, and fast.

After a few weeks went by and her plan didn't materialize, Melody was at her wits' end. She was making no progress, and had no idea what she would do. So, after yet another aimless wander along the streets of Boston, she turned towards the first bar she saw. It wasn't too hard for her to turn up the charm and convince the bouncer that she'd just forgotten her identification at home and please look the other way just this one time. A minute later, she was at the far end of the bar, taking a ginger sip on her drink and trying not to wince at the burn of the alcohol. She'd never been a drinker before, the Bennetts made sure of that. That night, she was willing to make an exception.

A snow fox with a too-wide smile came up beside her. He said she was too beautiful to look so sad, and asked if he could take a seat next to her. Under other circumstances, she might have been tempted to tell him off, but the alcohol in her veins and the self-pity she'd been letting it soak in had her in a more receptive mood.

"If you're buying, sure."

They got to talking, with Melody's lips being looser than normal. She was enjoying the buzzed feeling. She told him about the fight back home, coming out to Boston, trying to find a job, the works. The fox listened, looking sympathetic and nodding his head as she spoke. He shook his head after she finished, said he was sorry to hear that, and that if she wanted to put some of that old stage practice to use, make some real money, his club could definitely do with a girl like her.

She didn't want to take the offer. She wanted to tell him to fuck off. The grim reality was, that either the unicorn took him up on his proposal or she risked having to crawl back home and beg forgiveness.

Just like that, Melody Bennett was back on stage, flaunting herself for an ogling crowd.

Those first few nights were awkward. Mortifying, even, but she managed to convince herself that it was back like those old times. The music was loud and the lights were all on her, she could pretend that she wasn't being stared at by guys with their hands in their pants who'd be giving her cash that smelled like their dicks and going back home to their wives afterwards.

"Hey, it's empowering!" one of the other girls tried to convince her.

Of course.

It took some time, but the callus formed around Melody's heart and she stopped worrying about what it "looked like" anymore. Temptations treated her like a celebrity. The money was better than she could have ever hoped for, and the attention was almost intoxicating. Melody Bennett, the hidden gem of Boston.

Then came the private dances.

Then extra work outside of the bar.

The unicorn became jaded. Bitter at the world. If all they wanted from her was her body, then they'd get it, but they'd have to pay. She could charge whatever she wanted. After all, where else would a guy get a girl like her? When would their next chance to fuck a real life unicorn be? Careful with the blowjobs, though. Not unless the guy wanted an extra bellybutton.

One night, Melody was leaned up against a brick wall near an alley down the street from Temptations, her usual hangout spot. There was a code around town, everyone knew each others' spots and they knew not to overlap. Sure, some of them were jealous that she was taking their business, but fuck 'em. That wasn't her problem. She just had to get good at seeing trouble coming and know when to get moving.

A truck pulled up, a big old pickup that looked like it had no business being in Boston. Melody lifted up on her toes, peeking in through the window and seeing an eagle with a severe look on his face peering back at her.

"You lost, buddy?" she said, suspicious of him.

"Get in," he said back.

The eagle's voice was gruff. Deep. He spoke like she was supposed to have known he was coming. She shook her head.

"Look, mister, I dunno what you're thinking, b-"

He cut her off. "C'mon, don't treat me like I'm stupid. I ain't a cop, just get in."

Melody squinted at him, looking him over a bit. She stepped up closer to the truck, her eyes sweeping over the inside of it, hunting for hints. She'd run into undercover cops before. The equine with the beautifully spiraled horn saw beer cans on the floor of the passenger side, fast food bags in the back. The truck looked so expensive from the outside, but like a bachelor pad on the inside.

Then she saw something she didn't expect.

The eagle had shorts on, letting her see his legs.

His horse legs.

Melody stared back at him then, their gaze meeting. He nodded once more, inviting her inside the truck, and she followed.

The two drove for a few minutes, with Melody wondering where they were heading. She was trying not to let her imagination get away from her. Maybe he wasn't a cop. Maybe he was a serial killer, taking her outside of the city limits to dump her on the side of the road. Maybe he was a millionaire, taking her back to his mansion. All the while, she kept looking down at those legs, then up at his feathered arms. He was like her.

Then, the truck stopped. Not at a mansion, not in the woods, not even at a motel. Just by the curb, still well within the Boston city limits.

Melody swallowed awkwardly. "Um, so like... what d-"

"What the hell are you doin?" the hybrid asked before she could finish.

No answer came.

The griffin chuckled dryly and shook his head, blowing an angry breath out through his nostrils that stank of alcohol. "Look at you. A fuckin' unicorn, prob'ly the only one in the goddamn country, and that's what you're doin' with yourself. What the hell are you doin'?"

Melody frowned, crossing her arms. "What fucking business is it of yours? You gonna turn me in?" she spat.

The griffin snorted. "No, I ain't turnin' you in, damn. I'm just wonderin' why in the high holy hell I found a unicorn, someone who oughta be livin' the high life, on a fuckin' street corner by an alley. Breaks my heart."

He put his head back a moment, sighing. "Let's back up a bit. You got a name? I'm Karl," he said, holding his hand out towards her.

Melody narrowed her eyes at the offered hand. It was weathered, feathers missing at the wrist and forearm, palm toughened by labor. She reached her own out, soft flesh meeting hard.

"...Melody."

"So, Melody, where ya from?"

Melody didn't like the griffin's stare. It was predatory. Sharp. His eyes seemed to bore right through her, as if he could see through her flesh and into her heart. She tried to come up with an answer that would stop him from asking anything else, a lie that would satisfy him. The griffin's gaze was more acute than she knew, though, and he chuckled.

"Look if ya wanna run off, I sure as shit can't catch ya with my busted up legs. And I ain't tryna fuck ya, my meds make sure that ain't happening. I just wanna understand. So come on. Talk to me."

At first she was hesitant. She gave short answers, keeping them to one word where she could, but the griffin kept going. He sounded genuine. Like he actually was trying to get to know her. Before she knew it, the floodgates opened. Melody Bennett bared her soul to Karl. Every grimy detail of it. The whole journey from that last competition up through when he picked her up on that street corner. The whole while, he didn't say a word. He let her talk, he let her cry, putting his big hand on her back and just letting it rest there.

Melody was a mess. Makeup smeared and her nose running. She was furious at herself for letting it all out like that, showing any vulnerability. It wasn't her. It wasn't what had kept her alive all this while. She wanted to apologize for it, to take it back and wind the clock to an hour ago, and to decide to go to bed early that night.

Karl, meanwhile, kept looking at her with those piercing eyes. This time around, they seemed softer. She could swear she saw a grin at the corners of his beak.

"Well, Melody. I think I need a drink. You want one? I'm buyin'."

The truck turned back around, heading the way it had just come. The young hybrid was still as confused as ever, trying to suss out just what this guy's intentions were. If he was covering her tab, she'd go along until she had a reason to bail.

The pair went into Melody's usual haunt, taking what had become her usual table in the back corner. Karl got himself a beer, Melody a liquor mix, and they sat for a few moments. Karl struck up small talk while Melody tried to gather her composure. It felt so wrong talking about nothing in particular after what had happened earlier.

"L... listen, Karl, I don't understand... what do you want?"

The griffin popped his beer bottle's cap with his beak, drinking it from the side. "Well I'll tell ya what I don't want. I don't wanna see you out there makin' sales pitches."

Melody rubbed her face, her drink still sitting untouched. None of this made any sense at all. "No, I mean... why? Why do you give a fuck? Why are you talking to me right now?"

Karl took a slow breath, clacking his beak a few times. "Melody, lemme tell ya somethin'. You're younger'n me, so I'm guessin' you ain't been out of the nest long, but I still think you figured somethin' out about the world. Us, hybrids? No one gives a shit about us past bein' novelties and museum exhibits. Ain't nobody gonna help you out cuz, far as they're concerned, you're not even there. So we gotta look out for each other. Ya feel me?"

The unicorn stared down at her drink, uneasily picking it up and sipping from it. She needed something to stop her nerves from firing, to make her heart slow down.

"I... I can't just stop. There's people who, um, kinda are expecting me to..."

Karl shook his head. "Let me have a talk with 'em. Pretty sure we can work somethin' out."

His tone was both worrying and comforting, leaving Melody with her eyes narrowed yet again. She still couldn't quite get a bead on this one. "And what are you expecting from me?"

The griffin laughed. "Not a goddamn thing. Well, maybe bein' a drinking buddy with me, I'm kinda new in town, don't got a lot of friends. I told ya, we gotta look out for each other. I don't want you to pay me back. I want you to pay it forward. Ya got it?"

Pay it forward.

Melody sighed, finishing up her coffee, television playing through an episode of her show that she'd already seen a million times. She knew the dialogue in her sleep, and wasn't paying attention to a lick of it anyway. It was just something to play in the background, so she could pretend like there were others in the apartment with her. She glanced at her phone, tempted to text that jackalope, make sure he was doing okay. It hadn't been right just to leave him to fend for himself in that room in a strange town, even if it was just for a day.

That night was another meeting of the Exo Club, though. That would be good. She needed it. Hopefully the kid got himself some clothes and something to eat. It was tough out there for a hybrid. They had to look out for each other.