The Metropolis Series #3: Quinn and Cassandra

“THAT’S IMPOSSIBLE,” I gasped. “But I’ve always known that—”

“The Girl Beyond Bounds isn’t supposed to exist in this world anymore,” Mr. Simon said, cutting me off. “She met her demise when she tried to jump into the Lethe without the Author’s permission. The Author is yet to restore her, but she’s persistent. Yet again, she has found her way back into the Metropolis.”

“And… she’s doing that through me…?” I asked, my mouth barely forming the words. “She’s bringing herself back by claiming my spot in the story?”

“That’s what the Archives are telling me. Sometimes, your records read Quinn, and at other times, they read Cassandra. They constantly flicker between the two, and looking at them makes my head hurt.”

I had known for a long time that I was just a character in a book, but the thought of having physical writings that proved my existence was something difficult to wrap my head around.

I swallowed. “May I see them?”

Mr. Simon looked taken aback by my question. “Your records?”

Slowly, I nodded. “Yes. P—please.”

Mr. Simon looked reluctant, but after a long pause, he sighed.

“Very well,” he said.

He then led me to the biggest desk drawer in the Archive’s study area. He produced a key from his pocket and unlocked the drawer. As I peeked inside, Julio and Philip approached me and did the same.

“My God, Quinn,” Julio whispered.

My records were bound in a pink leather notebook, the kind that would have been ridiculously expensive in bookstores. It had a built-in strap that tried to keep the notebook closed, but it was no use. The notebook twitched and jumped around in the drawer, spitting out words—yes, words—saying Quinn, then Cassandra. Quinn. Cassandra. Over and over.

At one point, the notebook turned into a shade of maroon, one that was almost black. I felt a little nauseous back there, gripping the edge of the Archive’s desk to regain my balance, and just like that, the dizziness receded. The notebook my records were in was back to its original pink color. It had stopped spitting out words, and for the first time since I got a look at it, it remained still inside its drawer.

“I tried to fix it,” Mr. Simon said. “I did. But this is outside my knowledge. The last Girl Beyond Bounds wasn’t like this.”

“Then…” I mouthed. “What was she like?”

Mr. Simon turned to Philip. “You should probably leave for this, Philip,” he said. “I know you’re strong, but I don’t think any Metropolitan can handle what I’m about to say.”

Philip nodded slowly. “Okay. Will do, sir.” And he climbed the ladder out of the Archives, leaving Julio and me alone with Mr. Simon.

“The last Girl Beyond Bounds was a lot younger than Cassandra,” Mr. Simon began. “Her name was Lucy, a sweet, innocent child with bright, curious eyes. It was when she turned seven that she started manifesting her true, vicious form as the Girl. If I had acted sooner, perhaps—” He cleared his throat. “Never mind. It’s useless to dwell in the past, but what she did to my friends still haunts me.”

“But how did the Girl Beyond Bounds become Lucy?” I questioned. “And who was Lucy before she became the Girl? Was she a Metropolitan? A Forgotten One?”

Mr. Simon’s expression darkened. He let out a deep sigh and paced around the room, his hands behind him. “Ah, this is where one of the toughest rules of this world is established. You see, in an ideal Metropolis, only the Author has the right to create, to give life. Who we are and everything we do is dictated by the Author, and we must adhere to that role as her creations. However, because of her prolonged, sporadic absences, we have developed a certain degree of autonomy; I assume this is how the Metropolis keeps itself alive without the Author, but there are some of us out there who have gone too far.

“The Metropolis without the Author is a limbo. Despite the freedom it gives us, no one can be born into this world. Lucy had come to be during such state, and without the Author to record who she is and what her role would be, she came into this world as a hollow shell. And who do you think filled that shell?”

“The Girl Beyond Bounds…” I guessed.

“That’s right,” said Mr. Simon.

“So, that means that Lucy was an actual child? A baby?”

“Indeed.”

I pondered Mr. Simon’s words for a while, surprised that it had never occurred to me what would happen to babies born in the Metropolis without the Author. Humans are brought into the world as blank slates, as folks like to say, so what happens if no high and mighty being is around to write on those slates?

I thought long and hard. I’d been in and out of a nearby hospital visiting an injured Curtis after the party. I tried to remember if I had come across any delivery ward or nursery.

My mind went blank.

“Shortly after finding the Archives,” Mr. Simon went on, “I looked for Lucy’s records. I found everyone else’s, but not hers. It made sense. That child wasn’t the Author’s creation, and she never will be. With the standstill that we’re in, she shouldn’t have been born at all.

“However, I don’t blame Lucy’s parents for bringing a monster into our midst. The concept of the Girl Beyond Bounds was nonexistent back then. This time, however, the accounts from my generation should have been a cautionary tale, but now, the Girl Beyond Bounds is back because somebody couldn’t control themselves. Somebody didn’t listen…”

For the first time, Julio stepped into the discussion.

“What are you talking about?” he pressed. “Nobody knows for sure how the Girl Beyond Bounds came to be.”

“Then it is ignorance that has caused your generation’s downfall,” Mr. Simon told Julio. “However, I believe that not everyone in your group was unaware of the Girl. Quinn, here, is proof of that.”

“Me?” I stammered. “Why me?”

“Unlike Lucy, you arenʼt an empty shell, and your records are registered here in the Archives. That should be enough to prove that you are indeed a creation of the Author and not some anomaly. With that in mind, I can only see one reason why the Girl Beyond Bounds would choose to leech from an existing person instead. Some poor girl knew about the consequences of bearing a child at this standstill a little too late. I imagine she had gotten rid of the child one way or another, but I’m afraid her actions were in vain. The consciousness of the Girl had already been formed.

“Cassandra had entered this world without a body, and she desperately needed a host…”

Dear reader, when you first met me, I had woken up from a bad dream in St. John’s nurse’s office. I had passed out during gym class at that time, and that was where I proceeded to tell you that I had always been physically weak. I never told you what my condition was, nor did I explain it well. Looking back, it was because I didn’t know what was wrong with me; I couldn’t tell you the reason why my lungs went on fire and why my legs often failed me.

And now, I knew why. And I had never been so scared.

As we drove back to St. John’s, I wanted to talk to Julio so badly, maybe ask for comfort of some sort, but I couldn’t do that with Philip in the back seat, scrolling through his phone. I wished that Mr. Simon hadn’t let him leave the Archives, but no matter how I looked at it, he was right for doing so. How could anyone deal with the fact that some sinister being was trying to replace you and take your physical form for themselves?

As I was lost in thought, a vehicle beside us abruptly switched to our lane and cut right in front of us. Julio honked loudly on his horn and called that vehicle’s driver some nasty words—again, in Tagalog. If I had a five peso coin for every time Julio swore that day, I would have been able to buy myself lunch. Just a little bit more and I would be able to get myself a drink.

Then, there was how the Girl Beyond Bounds came to be. I couldn’t help but wonder who Cassandra’s parents were, but Mr. Simon had left me some clues. First, he had asked Philip to leave, claiming that he didn’t think any Metropolitan could handle what he was about to reveal. The second was the way he spoke to Julio: Then it is ignorance that has caused your generation’s downfall.

That could mean that Cassandra’s parents were most likely from the Spanish House. And Julio might have known all along.

“So, Quinn,” I heard Philip say, snapping me out of my thoughts. “How did you meet Mr. Spanish House Guy?”

“I have a name, you know,” Julio said bitterly.

“Right. Vince, was it?”

“It’s Julio,” I said. If another word were to come out of Julio’s mouth, it would probably be nasty. “He had mistaken me once for the Girl Beyond Bounds, but I guess he gave me the benefit of the doubt and didn’t attack me on the spot. Long story short, we got to know each other that way, and we hang out every now and then.”

Yikes. That was a grave understatement for all that I’d been through with Julio, but that was the simplest way I could word it.

Philip nodded. “I suppose there’s more to that, but I understand if you choose not to tell me. I am a Metropolitan, after all. But who would’ve thought that you’ve known all this time?”

“And you working for the Archives and having information on the Author?” I added. “Who would’ve thought?”

“But still, is that Girl really trying to replace you? Can she do that?”

I laughed nervously. “Jeez. I hope not.”

After about thirty minutes, we finally reached St. John’s Academy. Julio parked his car outside the campus.

“Go ahead, Philip,” I told him. “Julio and I need to talk for a while.”

“I figured,” he replied as he opened the car door. “Thanks for the ride, Julio. And I’ll see you, Quinn. I’d better go; Rachael’s gonna kill me for missing the intermission number.”

I flinched when Philip said Rachael’s name. I imagined that it would make Julio’s mood a lot worse.

“Happy Holidays, guys!” And Philip closed the car door.

And that left Julio and me alone. I didn’t know where to begin.

“So,” Julio said amidst the silence. “I guess I know where Cassandra’s powers come from now.”

I breathed heavily. It troubled me how I forgot to ask Mr. Simon if he knew where my powers came from, but at that time, that was the least of my concerns. For the first time since learning about the truth of my existence, I was finally able to bury my face in my hands and cry. Julio reached out and wrapped his arms around me, my tears staining the sleeve of his shirt. We stayed that way for a while as slow Christmas music played from nearby.

“I’m sorry, Quinn,” Julio said softly. “If only I knew, I would—I’ll keep fighting so that Cassandra will never get to you. I promise.”

I looked at him. I wasn’t sure what to make of that promise. For one thing, I had my suspicion that he was hiding something from me, and it was related to the Girl Beyond Bounds.

“It was someone from the Spanish House who’d brought the Girl back,” I whispered. “Right…?”

And with that, Julio let out a long, deep sigh. “I’m sorry you had to find out that way. I’ve been meaning to tell you, but I’m having trouble processing it all myself. I’ll tell you everything next time. I… I promise.”

Another promise. I hoped that he would stop promising. I was mad at him for keeping such vital information from me. He lied to me by saying that he didn’t know how the Girl came to be. But could I blame him for doing so? I know that he had gone through a lot, but in the circumstances we were in, was that an excuse?

My ringtone had saved me from saying anything else. I pulled my phone from my bag. My mom was calling, so I wiped my tears, cleared my throat, and answered.

“Hello?” I said, hoping that I sounded normal.

“Quintana, Merry Christmas!”

“M—Merry Christmas.”

There was some ruffling, then I heard my dad’s voice on the phone. “Hey, kiddo, Happy Holidays!”

“Happy Holidays, Dad.”

“Your mom and I are on our way to pick you up. We’ll see you really soon.”

I wiped even more tears. “Yeah. I’ll see you.”

“Love you,” my parents said.

“Love you, too…”

Then, the call ended. I put my phone away.

“Ah,” Julio said. “Going home for Christmas, I see.”

Slowly, I nodded. “I live quite far from here,” I said. “I don’t think paper planes will reach you.”

Julio shrugged. “Give it a shot when you get there. I’ll find it. If anything happens, send me a line.”

“Hope that isn’t another lie,” I grumbled.

“Quinn—”

Whatever it was, he didn’t say it. He slumped into his chair and muttered another curse word to himself. I could now afford a drink.

“Anyway,” I said. “I guess I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah,” he replied.

“Enjoy the holidays.”

“Yeah, you too.”

I nodded, stepped out of his car, and closed the door. Julio then drove down the road, and I stood there as his vehicle got smaller the further it went. I pulled out the keychain I had gotten him, the one shaped like a paper airplane. I had wanted to give it to him for Christmas, but at that moment, it didn’t feel right.

I slipped the keychain back into my bag and approached the gates of St. John’s. I looked toward the street to see that Julio’s rundown car had turned into a tiny spec, and in a blink of an eye, it was gone.

The first thing I did upon entering St. John’s Academy was to wash my face in the restroom near the admissions office. I had already ditched the second half of the Christmas party, and I knew that Harumi and the others would have already noticed. I was yet to come up with an explanation for where I’d gone, but first things first, I wanted to make sure that all the tears were gone from my eyes.

I didn’t want anyone to ask any questions.

I wasn’t sure how long I’d been standing by the bathroom sink, but it was nice to feel the water run down my face. I thought that I could drown out Mr. Simon’s words, or forget about the fact that Julio had lied to me. For a while, I was right; the cold, rushing water had washed away my thoughts, numbing me down, but that was only until I couldn’t breathe anymore—

I looked up. I met my reflection in the foggy bathroom mirror, my tired sunken eyes staring right back at my forlorn face. For the longest time, I had been afraid to look at myself, scared that I would find someone else on the polished glass. But on that day, things were different. It was me. And it had been me all this time.

I was now afraid of losing myself.

But enough of that. I needed to look fine in front of my friends and happy in front of my parents. I needed just a few more hours to pull myself together.

Then I could cry all night if I wanted to.

I got some tissues from my bag and wiped the tears from my face. Then, I took a few deep breaths. While doing so, someone from the admissions office entered the restroom, and that was my cue to leave.

There was a sense of false hope in the air of the school grounds, but it was enough to get me going. Students hung out in the covered court and the surrounding picnic tables, their bags and luggage next to them. A few of them had probably already gone home for Christmas, creating a sense of emptiness around the campus. The food stalls were closed, and the windows of the main campus were dark. I wondered if Harumi and Deus Ex Machina were still around, but it didn’t take me long to find them. Rachael berated Philip, who had changed out of his work uniform, for missing the band’s performance earlier that day. I wondered what kind of excuse Philip had given the ferocious frontwoman.

I approached them, and that was when Harumi spotted me. She emerged from the table and walked toward me.

“Quinn, hey!” she called.

Deus Ex Machina had turned their heads to look at me, as well, but they were yet to say a word.

“Where were you?” Harumi asked. “You missed half the party.”

“Sorry,” I began. “I needed to step out of the gym because my parents were trying to reach me. We talked for a while, and then… I needed to settle some things at the admissions office.”

Then, Harumi furrowed her brows. “Wait, have you been crying?”

“What?” Goodness, I hated how good she was at reading through me. “Ah, just some bad news on my end. It’s nothing to worry about.”

“What do you mean nothing? You wanna talk about it?”

I shook my head. “It’s a little too personal. Sorry.”

“Oh sure, no worries. Hope you’ll be okay.”

Slowly, I nodded. “Yeah. Of course, I’ll be.”

“Okay. If you’re sure…”

“I’m sure. Anyway, I need to get my bags from the dorm. Wanna come along?”

“Sure. I’ll help you out.”

I wanted Harumi with me because I didn’t want to be alone with my thoughts. Once I had all of my bags with me, Harumi turned to the empty space and said:

“See you next year, roomie!”

“Yup, see ya,” I decided to add.

It cheered me up a little since it gave me something to look forward to. I was going to enjoy the holidays and come back just fine.

I let out a sigh, and I stepped out of the room as Harumi locked the door behind us.

“Hey, Vasquez,” Bree said. “Where have you been?”

I sat with Harumi and Deus Ex Machina on a picnic table near the entrance of the main campus. They gathered around bags of chips and biscuits, having one last gathering before the holidays. I told them what I said to Harumi, and they nodded. Thankfully, they didn’t ask me if I had been crying. I must have looked more normal now compared to a few minutes ago. I was relieved.

“You should have been there, Quinn,” Curtis said. “Our musical performance won second place.”

I raised my brows. “Really?”

“Yeah. We got some extra credit, too. The boys howled like crazy.”

“That’s great… So who won?”

“Class 5 did, obviously,” Bree said. “All because Rachael was in charge.”

Rachael smiled. “Of course. I do what I do best.”

It was then I noticed that she wasn’t seated next to Curtis. Whenever she spoke, Curtis simply hung his head low with his hands on the table. He looked like he wanted to drum his fingers, but he clenched his jaw and stopped himself.

Philip rubbed the back of his neck. “Gee, it’s a shame that I missed the party.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it, man,” Curtis said. “What happened to your uncle was serious.”

“Uncle?” I asked. “What happened to your uncle?”

“Ah.” Philip cleared his throat. We made eye contact for a while, and it broke as soon as it was established. “My uncle was robbed today. Had to be there for him.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry for yelling at you just now,” Rachael said. “I understand that it was an emergency. I just wish you at least called.”

“I know. Sorry about that. Earlier was completely uncalled for.”

Bree shook her head. “What a scary world we live in.”

“What did they steal?” Harumi asked Philip.

Philip shrugged. “Some valuables. My uncle… collects antiques and books, and he’s been growing his collection for years. The thief must have a good eye since the really good stuff is gone. Thankfully, nobody got hurt.”

“Bummer,” Curtis said. “Well, at least you’re all safe.”

It amazed me how well Philip masked the Archives when talking to his friends. I should have probably asked how he’d done it.

“You should have seen Rachael up on stage earlier,” Harumi told Philip.

“Yeah,” Bree added. “She had to cover your parts, man. I’d never seen Rachael showcase so much stress and talent in a small amount of time.”

Everyone agreed and applauded Rachael’s musical skills.

“It was nothing but pure dedication back there,” I said.

Rachael chuckled. “Please, you guys are too much.” Then, she gave Philip a dirty look. “Don’t make me do that again.”

Philip swallowed. “Yes, ma’am,” he blurted out.

And they all laughed, and I laughed along with them. I didn’t know what it was, but there was something about that moment that made me forget about the Archives and all the secrets it had shared with me. Sometimes, that was just how things were. I had learned that my existence was a fragile thing, but I needed to hold on.

Even for just a little bit longer.