Starring Ryan Winters as Himself

It was starting to dawn on me that I had made a grave mistake. In the span of only a couple of minutes, the entire fake life I had made for myself crumbled, and every second since had been a mad scramble to figure it out. Spoiler alert: it didn’t work. So, there I was, stuck outside the large, bleak room marked INTERROGATIONS, getting stared at like I was the mystery meat from the camp cafeteria. Considering I had saved all of their lives from literal demons, it was rather rude. Not that the high and mighty Agent Steven Oakwood cared.

He was probably going to throw me in jail. Or worse.

Call my mom.

Needless to say, my anxiety had basically made me vibrate, making me feel as though I was filled with bees. I shouldn’t have listened to my so-called friends. It’s not like I wanted to be a part of their Merry Band of Freaks to begin with. It was awesome to know I wasn’t the only magical mistake in existence—but running around with a bunch of 16-year-olds in tights like some fucked up version of the X-Men wasn’t my big life goal. And for what? To save the world from whatever the hell it was that attacked us?

The world could save itself.

A gruff-looking officer appeared from one of the rooms and approached me stiffly. Without saying a word, he grabbed me and yanked me from my seat. He dragged me into the room and threw me down onto a rusted metal chair which squealed in protest when my body made contact.

“What the hell, you can’t just treat me like this, I have rights!”

The officer left, locking the door with a sickening click.

“Alright, kid, tell me again. From the beginning. This time, I want details.” My head snapped to Steve, who was seated at the other end of the table staring at me with narrowed, piercing green eyes. His full lips snarled at me, chapped from the dry heat of the California Mountains. His normally crisp suit was disheveled—his tie crooked, his coat sliding down his right shoulder.

There was only one way out of this: I had to put on my best mask yet.

I leaned back and threw my feet onto the table, crossing them casually. I folded my hands in my lap neatly in an attempt to keep Steve from noticing that they were shaking. “Kid? That’s a little cold. I thought we’d be on a first-name basis by now.”

Steve bared his teeth at me, and I imagined them sharpening to points. “I don’t have time for this J-”

I stopped him. Hearing my dead name would make me throw up, and the last thing I wanted was to go back to being the sad, scared little kid I was all those years ago. “Ok, no, it’s Ryan. Ry-yan. I left my deadname on the stage. Also,” I reached into my pocket and pulled out a brown, crumpled piece of paper. This was it. My ticket. The only thing standing between me and certain death. I slid it across the table to Steve. “You sign this written contract saying that if I cooperate and tell you what I know, you will let us go—scot-free. Then I answer all of your questions.”

Steve looked down at the paper, then back up at me, unamused. “That’s a napkin from the camp cafeteria. How do you still have that?”

I shrugged, crossing my arms over my chest. They trembled slightly, and I squeezed my biceps, forcing the trembling to stop. “Are you going to sign it or what?”

“No, of course I’m not going to sign it.”

I frowned, taking my legs off the table and leaning forward.

Always have a plan B, that’s what my mother taught me. My real mother, that is. The one who took me in when no one else would. I knew exactly what to do. My lips pulled back into a sly grin, “That’s a shame. Guess I’ll just have to contact my mom and tell her about that little stunt you pulled in Jersey? She is your superior, you know.”

Steve squinted at me, “You wouldn’t dare.”

I gasped, my hand flying up to my chest. “Are you saying you doubt me, Steve? After all this time? I’m hurt!”

Steve groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose as he grumbled something to himself that I didn’t quite catch. “Fine, I will suggest to the bureau that they look into your case with an open mind. Now, tell me what happened.”

I pointed at the paper, leaning back in the chair again. “Sign it.” I watched Steve begrudgingly take a pen out of his shirt pocket and sign his name on the napkin contract I had prepared the day my life turned on its head.

Let’s just say, it wasn’t exactly turning out to be the summer vacation I was expecting.

Steve started to slide the paper back towards me, but halted. “Answer me this, how did you manage to stay hidden? You were right under our noses and we had no idea.”

I shrugged, my eyes flickering back to the piece of paper. That one, inconsequential napkin meant everything and nothing all at once. I had to play my cards exactly right. He couldn’t know everything—not yet. “Simple. You were looking for a little girl. And I am clearly not a little girl. It’s not all that difficult to figure out.” I held out my hand expectantly. “Now, how about you give me that contract, and I’ll start my story?” I bit the inside of my lip, fingertips quivering with anticipation.

Steve hesitantly handed me the contract.

I took the napkin in my hands, staring at the signature at the bottom for a few moments. Holding it, I realized I was no longer shaking. As stupid as it may sound, seeing that signature made me feel safer. Like maybe I wasn’t condemned to a lifetime of sadness. Maybe I didn’t have to live my whole life as a magical fugitive. Maybe, just maybe, if I told him my story, he would believe me.

I grinned, shoving the napkin into my pocket. “Alright, that settles it. Just remember, you asked for this. The whole story, from the beginning, with every excruciating little detail.”