Private: Miles Lucky
When he beat Bryan Williams, something inside of him shifted uncomfortably and completely.
And then came the snow.
Red and vibrating. Everything in Miles’ life is perfectly constructed around his constantly gearing mind. The world molds before him, his emotions manifest, and the snow covers everything in a brilliant crimson. It scares his family. His woman and son lock away from him. The front door is wide open, and the snow is crawling along the floor. Expanding and exploring the shivering apartment. Miles watches monotonously, nursing a beer as he does so. He’s intrigued by the snow, there is something familiar about it. It regards him amused as it goes along furniture, spreading.
“You know, they say to never meet your heroes, and I never understood that.” Miles remarks to the snow. It acknowledges him and gathers closer as he speaks. It takes in his appearance. It can feel that Miles Lucky has just been existing, something he has never truly been comfortable with. Something he’s never been satisfied with. He needs more than that, he always wants more than that. He wants his presence to rock everyone to their very core, and make them fall in love all the same. If he could dance with everyone he meets and rip out their throats, then he would be happy. Maybe that’s part of the problem.
He is displaced. “I think I get it now.”
The snow begins to crawl up his legs and he lets it happen. It’s warmer than he ever would have guessed it would be. It burns and eats at his skin, but he lets it. It begins to cover him completely and he has the morbid thought that he won’t be the only one. It’ll knock down his door and take his family. It’ll take the entirety of the City. It’ll swallow the world whole. And it makes Miles smile, for a moment, to know it. He knows just as well as everyone else, this snow belongs to him. This snow came from him. This slushed, harsh, scratching snow had ripped from the confines of his chest and fell to the earth beautifully. It was all him.
Miles Lucky is consumed in his chair. All he sees is red.
“Never meet your heroes, because you’ll end up killing them.”
Fuck it. It doesn’t actually matter anymore. He’s glad to have let him down.