The Metropolis Series #2: Quinn Beyond Bounds

I DIDN’T WORRY about facing Cassandra again. She had never been gone for so long, and there was a certain comfort in that thought; it made me believe that she would never come back, even if no explanations were defined for her absence. Perhaps there was a reason this story didn’t follow the usual fictional format. There had been no real battle that led to her defeat, nor was any event of that nature explicitly shown. Maybe she would have lost against Takahiro’s reinforcements at the Spanish House? Who knew? I had turned back time before I could find out.

There was another way to see this situation, but it was too hopeful; it was blinding. Had the Author returned and fixed everything? Was she writing this story as we speak?

You’re new, Harumi had told me. And you’re here. The Author must have returned. We can live normally again…

It was true. I was new. Aside from Cassandra, I was the only new drastic change the Metropolis had seen in a while. It was difficult to accept that Harumi wasn’t around to experience this newfound peace I felt, but the thought made me remember what Takahiro and I discussed at the gig. If I were a full-fledged Metropolitan now, would I forget about Julio? Would I forget about the Spanish House and The MacGuffin?

Would I forget about Harumi, too?

“Hey, Vasquez,” Bree called, interrupting my train of thought. “We’re heading out for coffee. Come join us.”

Band practice for the day had ended. Curtis and Rachael were on the other side of the room putting away their instruments. Philip was unplugging the electrical equipment. Bree, on the other hand, was erasing song lyrics and guitar chords off the whiteboard when she had asked me about coffee. Luckily, she had caught me on a temporary creative block. I was on my laptop writing a blog post about the band’s latest gig for their social media page, but I was running out of things to say.

“I don’t drink coffee,” I said blankly.

Bree chuckled in response. “That’s okay. They have hot chocolate and milkshakes, too. C’mon, Vasquez. You always bail when we eat out.”

Rachael looked up from a pair of microphone stands she was putting away. “Maybe she has things to do, Bree,” she muttered.

“Uh no, not really,” I answered immediately. There was something amusing about annoying Rachael with my mere presence.

“Great,” Curtis joined in. “So you’re coming with us today?”

“Sure!” I fired my response like a missile.

“Cool.”

Rachael rolled her eyes and put away the mic stands.

Bree looked as pleasantly entertained as I was, but she wiped off her smirk as soon as they appeared on her lips.

“Phil,” she then called. “You coming?”

Philip rolled up some electrical chords and placed them neatly on a corner of the room. “Sorry, can’t,” he said. “I… promised a friend that we’d meet after school today.”

Bree simply shrugged. “Okay, that’s cool.”

“I’d better go, guys.” Philip glanced at his watch. “See ya.”

With waves received from his bandmates, the lead guitarist left the band room. I was convinced that he was skipping out to attend to his job at the ice cream parlor, but I was smart enough to not bring it up among the rest of Deus Ex Machina.

We then packed our things and locked up the band room for the day, heading to catch a bus just outside St. John’s gates. Once we got on, Rachael found herself in an awkward spot sitting next to Bree (who had swooped passed Curtis as he tried to take the seat beside her,) while Curtis and I wound up on the seats right behind them.

Rachael groaned. “So where are we going exactly?”

“I’ll know when we get there,” Bree singsonged. “You’re gonna love it, I swear. I found this new place last night and it’s great. The place’s a little shabby, though, but their coffee is excellent. I think I’ll try their sandwiches today.”

The trip didn’t last very long. In no time, Bree stood from her seat and motioned us out of the bus. “We’re here, guys. Let’s go.”

You know, with the many restaurants and cafés in the Metropolis, I wouldn’t have thought I would find myself under the door frame of a place I had been to once before. I didn’t think much about where we were eating out that day; I had just stared out the window of the bus, enjoying the ride and the view of the gray, bustling city. But then, as the bus we rode disappeared down the street and out of view, as Bree led the way into this strange little coffee shop’s door, Curtis read its name aloud.

“The MacGuffin, huh?” he said. “Strange name.”

And with that, I felt like I had been rudely awakened from a peaceful dream. I looked up, dazed to find The MacGuffin’s signboard swinging nonchalantly overhead. It was taunting me, for sure. Examining my surroundings, I was pretty sure that we were far from the outskirts of the city. There were no hungry children on the streets this time—just the usual gray businessmen and ladies with parasols, mindlessly tracing the sidewalks with their steps. How was it possible that we were right at The MacGuffin’s door?

Most importantly, what were the odds that Bree could have found it?

As much as I wanted to stop Bree, Curtis, and Rachael from stepping into the café, it was too late. They were already past the squeaky, glass door, looking around for an empty table. Bree, in particular, was perusing the coffee cups on display on the front counter, her eyes leading her to the menu plastered on the wall behind the barista. Sure enough, I found Ms. Louise and her tennis cap adorned with girl scout badges, her eyes stunned at the sight of Deus Ex Machina on MacGuffin grounds.

“Oh, g—good afternoon,” she spluttered, straightening up. “May I take your order?”

“Yes, please,” Bree said, stepping forward.

Ms. Louise must have been wrapping her head around the fact that the high school band was standing in front of her. I mean, what were the odds that a group of known Metropolitans would find The MacGuffin? (They could even be the Author’s main characters, as Harumi had speculated in her journal.) From what I learned, the shop was virtually invisible and could only be found once by a common Metropolitan.

But Bree, however, was able to find it twice.

Curtis and Rachael lined up behind her. I trailed awkwardly behind, hoping that my attempts to persuade them out of the café would succeed. I tapped Curtis on the shoulder, and he spun around to meet my frantic eyes.

“Let’s eat somewhere else,” I said.

He raised a brow. “What? Why?”

I tried concocting an explanation, but I thought it would make much more sense to just tell the truth

“I—I don’t feel comfortable here,” I said.

Then, Rachael decided to join the conversation.

“What’s going on?” she spat.

I didn’t know if it was because of her sharp tongue that led to my discovery, but the moment Rachael raised her voice, Ms. Louise’s glare sped right past Bree and straight to my direction. She gasped in horror.

I didn’t need to figure out what her next move would be. She grabbed something from under the counter and flung it toward me.

“Wait,” I screamed. “Stop!”

My voice resonated within the walls of the MacGuffin, and as its final echo faded, the noise in the coffee shop came to a halt. The wind died all around me, and my heart pounded in my ears. I gazed at Ms. Louise’s puzzled expression, and Deus Ex Machina remained lined up in front of me, all caught in a burst of motion. Their eyes led to a dagger just inches away from my face, but just like everything and everyone else in the room, it was frozen.

Only Ms. Louise and I remained in motion while the rest of the world stood still. Her eyes now glinted with anger, and her palms shook on as she gripped the front counter.

“Cassandra Diaz,” she snarled. “GET OUT OF MY SHOP!”

Of course, her behavior was understandable. I had come into The MacGuffin without a disguise. With Cassandra’s long absence, I had never thought that I would have to cover myself up again. This bliss had lasted me a good two weeks, and now, I was facing the sharp knife of reality (literally) once more.

“Ms. Louise,” I panted, “it’s me, Quinn!”

“Quinn?” Ms. Louise narrowed her eyes. She let out a dry chuckle. “Nice try, but I know what you did at the Spanish House…”

She emerged from behind the counter and marched straight toward me.

“Did little Cassandra learn a new trick? Has possessing people become so cheap to you that you’re developing a split persona—”

She grabbed the hilt of her dagger, but it wouldn’t budge. To her surprise, the weapon remained suspended in mid-air no matter how hard she tried to seize it.

“Trust me,” I said. “I’m just as confused as you are.”

Ms. Louise had eventually stopped pulling on her knife, but she wrapped her fingers around it more tightly until her nails and knuckles went white.

“Who are you?” she asked from behind the blade.

“Quinn,” I said again, more firmly. I pulled up my hair as if I still had Julio’s beanie to hide it with. “I visited this place with Julio about two weeks ago. Do you really think he would have brought me here knowing who I was? I don’t even think he could bring Cassandra here by mistake.”

Yes, there I was dropping the responsible guy’s name. I realized how much people looked up to Julio and how they trusted him, especially in the midst of danger. In fact, at his mere mention, Ms. Louise’s expression softened. She examined me like I had shape-shifted before her eyes.

“You’re not a Metropolitan, are you?” she queried.

“I guess I am,” I replied. “But I don’t feel like one?”

“Care to explain?”

I stared once again at Ms. Louise’s knife and at Deus Ex Machina’s frozen expressions. What I had just done was pretty clear: the kiss at the arcade, the volleyball at gym… I never thought I would be able to stop time again, let alone need to, but I was more worried about what I was about to tell Ms. Louise. Would she believe my rather far-fetched tale? I wished Julio or Harumi were here to back me up.

I hesitated for a while, but then established eye contact once more with the barista.

“Sure,” I said. “We have all the time we need…”