Reborn from the Ash
1.7 - The Renegades
Underneath the foundation of the Villareal Estate, there was a basement that was constructed at the same time as the original house, long before the first Villareals had amassed any sort of fortune. It was a room with a long history, with secrets likely hidden in the very stonework that made up the walls, but in recent times, the historic room had become the haunt of the youngest Villareal son, Max.
After his father, Jacques, passed, Hugo gave Max free reign to do whatever he wished with the room, as he lacked the imagination and knowledge to picture any way in which he could use it. The young Max at first used the wallpaper for graffiti, then for underage drinking away from his sibling’s prying eyes, but once he reached his late teens, he realized he could use the room to hang out with his delinquent friends, which had become a gang with a fair amount of notoriety that he called the Renegades.
At the time, the Renegades spent most of their free time terrorizing the local swimming pool, which resulted in many of them ending up with nasty sunburns that only hurt more when security threw them out on the street. To establish a base for the Renegades, Max did away with the graffitied wallpaper and the ancient furniture and transformed the space into a room he could spend the rest of his life in. Neon lighting. A giant tv, plenty of games, and an open bar that was always well stocked. And most importantly, the privacy provided by it being a space that others wouldn’t be able to freely enter.
It became the place to be for the Renegades, and each of the members spent countless hours down in that basement, taking part in whatever happened to strike Max’s fancy that day. Even if the days and activities started to blend together, all of the Renegades enjoyed each others company for it not to matter. Hugo and Luna, however, were out of luck, as he gave them zero updates throughout the renovation process and they were both kept out before, during, and especially after the project.
Yet, despite the exclusivity, that basement was where Antonio started making his first moves to bring his daughter and successor back home, to where she belonged.
“Fuck!” Max shouted, throwing his controller down in rage. He couldn’t master this game, no matter how hard he tried.
“Maxie, it isn’t that serious, come on,” A girl with fierce ginger hair he was playing with laughed. “Or… is that you’re embarrassed you lost to a girl?”
“Shut up Morgan,” Max spat.
“What does gender have to do with any of this?” An older woman with a choppy black bob sighed, sitting with her eyes closed in the lap of her curly red haired boyfriend. “Anyone can be good at video games, right?”
Morgan rolled her eyes.
“Nah, it’s that Max thought he had a chance now that Wolfgang is gone, isn’t it?” The woman’s boyfriend muttered, also not bothered enough to give anyone else in the room other than his girl his undivided attention. “He was the undisputed king, after all.”
“Don’t, Ivan,” The woman with black hair whispered, moving her hand so it rested commandingly on his thigh.
“Why are we bringing his name up?” Morgan spat. He’s a traitor! Why are we praising his ass?”
“Oh, please. It’s undeniable, Morgan, and it isn’t like he stopped existing-“ Ivan retorted.
“Shut up! You know what? Let’s all sit in a circle, all kumbaya-like, and go around and shit talk him! Air everything out, we’ll never have anything good to say about fucking Wolfgang again.”
There was a knock at the doorway that led into the room up the stairs, but the only person who heard it was an anxious looking guy who sat cross-legged on the couch. He looked around, but no one else seemed to have heard what he had. Unsure about whether or not he should speak up, he chose to go back to staring blankly at the TV.
“Traitor or not, he was still one of us, got it? You have it right, Ivan,” Max said firmly. “Don’t ever forget about who the Renegades are.”
Morgan flinched, and looked away from Max.
Ivan nodded enthusiastically. “Society fucked us, so why would we be kind to society?”
The person at the top of the stairs knocked again, and the anxious guy looked to the black haired woman. As the oldest in the room by far and seemingly the least volatile, she seemed the most approachable.
“Hey, Ulrike,” he whispered, trying to act nonchalant so he did’t interrupt Max.
“Wanna make friends? Wanna be popular? Too bad!” Max chanted. “We’re the Renegades, and we’re here to make things fucking bad for other people. They’ll feel our pain!”
“Didn’t you come up with that when you were, like, 10?” Morgan snorted. “It’s kind of cringe, dude. Retire it.”
Max gave Morgan a wide eyed stare. “You got any better ideas? For the last time, we’re not fucking replacing it until you come up with something we all like, you know that.”
“All I’m saying is that you should be embarrassed!”
Ulrike turned away from the noise. “Ronnie, right? What is it?”
Ronnie pointed upstairs. “Someone’s knocking.”
Ulrike sighed. “Ronnie, I understand why you’re here, but if you don’t think this is for you, go home to your privilege. If you’re a Renegade, you should have the confidence to stand on your own two feet and speak for yourself.”
Ulrike then stood up, and turned to the rest of the room, which put an abrupt end to Max and Morgan’s tired argument. “There’s been someone knocking up there for a while now, what do you all think? Should we show them what happens when they bother the Renegades?”
The room erupted into loud cheers that followed her as she made her way up the stairs. She opened the door and came face to face with a pale faced man with a deathly cold stare.
“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll tell the rabble to be quiet and let my Master Antonio speak,” Ivailo whispered dangerously.
Ulrike hurriedly stepped aside, suddenly feeling rather out of her element.
“Ulrike? What’s going on up there?” Ivan shouted.
His question was answered as a smartly dressed man descended the stairs, shadowed by what seemed to be his rather severe looking bodyguard.
“A-Antonio!” Max stammered, quickly shooting to his feet, all of his bravado having seemingly evaporated. “To what… why… what are you doing here?”
“Someone prepare me a drink,” Antonio said calmly, taking a seat at the bar that sat near the entrance to the basement.
As Ulrike quietly slipped past him and nervously sat back down on the couch, Morgan got up and busied herself behind the bar, feeling as if this moment was rather important. This was a man she wanted to impress.
“I have a proposal.” Antonio said, without turning around to face the room. “If you accept, I will pay your group generously, but I expect absolute discretion.”
“What’s the proposal?” Max asked, walking over and taking a seat next to Antonio.
Antonio took his drink from Morgan, then set it down on the bar and turned to look at Max. He shook his head. “That isn’t how this works, Max. You accept, then I tell you what the task is. What I’m offering is no small sum. For this first task… 4 million.”
Max eyed Antonio carefully. He knew that he was a man he couldn’t place even an ounce of trust in. But he also knew Antonio had endless resources, and that the rest of the Renegades weren’t as privileged as he was. Entering a partnership with Antonio would help his people out a great deal.
“10 million,” Max said boldly. “No less. 4 million wouldn’t cover everyone here.”
“6 million. A million for each of you. Or, wait- I heard the Renegades lost a member rather recently. A man by the name of Wolfgang, I believe? 5 million seems more appropriate…”
Max cut him off quickly. “6 million. We’ll take it.”
Antonio beckoned Ivailo out of the shadows near the staircase, and he brought forth a briefcase, which he placed on the bar. As Ivalio returned to where he’d been standing, Antonio rose to his feet, and turned to face the rest of the Renegades.
“First, a warning. If I discover any of this info has left this room, life will become incredibly unpleasant. This goes for everyone. Are we understood?”
He was met with a series of anxious nods, to which he offered no reaction. Turning back around, Antonio then gestured Max to open the briefcase. Cracking it open, Max pulled out a few papers, which he spread out on the bar.
“Josh Marks. An architect,” Antonio explained. “He recently completed construction on Mr. Oscar Feng’s mansion in San Myshuno. He currently has a wife, Jany, and a teenage son, Skylar. Through whatever means you find nessacary, I want you to ensure that the two of us can have a civil conversation where he will agree to what I ask of him.”
Max looked at the pictures of the man, his family, his apartment building, and his recent construction project, as well as all the personal information Antonio had provided, and felt an odd sensation come over him. Was it excitement? Anxiety? The sense that he was in over his head? Or the sensation that he and the Renegades finally had purpose and funding?
In the end, what he said was simple.
“We’ll get it done.”
It was a brisk autumn day in San Myshuno as Kiara stepped off the boat she’d taken from Windenburg. The wind was in her hair as she spun around, taking in the sunlight and sounds of the bustling city. Luna and Lyric joined her at the dock, and shared a smile as they watched Kiara race across the dock, amazed by the sights of the towering skyscrapers and the sounds of heavy traffic that made up the city.
“It’s nice to see, huh?” Lyric said.
“I can barely remember the last time I saw her this enthusiastic about something,” Luna almost whispered, shaking her head. “Thank you, Lyric.”
“For what?”
“For giving her that last little push. If you hadn’t told Kiara to follow her heart, I can only imagine that she would’ve those feelings back down for the umpteenth time and continued to live out a life that made her miserable.”
Lyric shook her head. “I really didn’t do all that much. If Kiara asks me to be honest, I’m gonna be honest and I think everyone deserves a chance to live out a normal life.”
“Thank you anyway,” Luna smiled. “Should we grab her and head off before she wanders too far down the dock?”
“Oh shoot, you’re right. Kiara!” Lyric shouted, rushing off in the direction where they’d last seen Kiara.
Lyric found Kiara a little ways down the dock without much incident, and the three of them headed off to the Arts Quarter. The three of them had made their way to San Myshuno for Kiara’s sake—she’d arranged a day where she’d get the friends from her old life to meet the friends she’d met in her new life. It was something she’d been excited to do ever since she first began getting close with Libby and Houda, her two neighbors.
Houda had been the one to suggest the Arts Quarter to Kiara as a potential meeting place when Kiara had confessed to Houda that it would mean a lot to her if all of her friends could get to know each other. It was an upper end district of San Myshuno, inhabited by hipsters, artists, and students living off their parents money with a generally pleasant and modern environment. Houda felt would be a nice change of pace from the very traditional and rigid part of Windenburg they all came from.
By the time Kiara, Luna, and Lyric got to the plaza they were all meeting in, Houda, Libby, and Fatima were already waiting for them. Houda, as usual, was stylishly dressed with impeccable hair, Libby looked as if she’d just gotten off work, and Fatima was as flamboyantly dressed as ever.
Kiara gave the three of them a big wave, and rushed over. She swung herself into the last seat at the table, then waited for Luna and Lyric to hurry over and join them.
“Houda, Libby, Fatima, I want you all to meet Luna and Lyric. Luna here has been my friend for nearly as long as I can remember, and Lyric was my personal servant back at the mansion, but she became a trusted friend.”
The three women nodded their hellos.
“I’ve heard so much about the two of you from Kiara,” Libby said with a warm smile. “I’m so pleased to finally be able to meet you both!”
“Likewise,” Lyric nodded, taking a seat at the neighboring table. “I know two of you are her new neighbors, right?”
“That would be Libby and Houda,” Kiara said, gesturing towards the two in question. “Fatima there is a friend of Houda’s who drops by to visit regularly, so I’ve become just as close with her as I have with my neighbors.”
“You flatter me,” Fatima said with a tight smile. “But thank you. I never imagined getting to know you would put my in touch with not one, but two heiresses.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t call myself an heiress,” Luna said with a gentle shake of her head. “My older brother is the heir, and, regardless, even if it came to it, I have no interest in acting as the head of my family.”
“So, what do you want do do?” Houda asked.
“Fashion. I design clothes, and while I’m not yet able to sell anything, I’m working on it.”
“I’ve got you girl!” Houda grinned. “I do career counseling, and it’s led me to some connections with people in marketing. If you need any help at all, hit me up.”
Luna smiled back.
Kiara watched her two friend groups chatting with a certain degree of awe. She’d wanted the two groups to get along, but she’d never hoped that it would lead to them developing relationships between each other. She’d just wanted to spend time with everyone she trusted at once, and Houda had made it happen for her.
Remembering this, Kiara quickly butted into the conversation. “Houda, I have to thank you for arranging all of this. The Art District is gorgeous, and I couldn’t be happier that we’ve all managed to gather here.”
“Of course!” Houda said casually. “From the way she talks about you both, Luna, Lyric, I got excited about meeting you two myself. And hey, if this leads to Luna and I actually working together, someone could almost claim that I put this together for myself. Speaking of… Luna, you want to grab some food for everyone with me?”
“Sure,” Luna said with a smile. She rose to her feet, then she and Houda walked over to the food stands, beginning to chat eagerly about Luna’s clothing designs. Lyric took the opportunity to join the others at their table.
“She didn’t actually mean that, did she?” Kiara asked. “She couldn’t possibly have known about Luna’s work.”
Libby let out a laugh. “Oh Kiara, of course not! That’s just Houda. She did this for you, but she is a businesswoman who will always jump at a golden opportunity, and a woman who isn’t afraid to make a joke at her own expense.”
“Most people out in the real world are nothing like your parents,” Lyric said. “Just… breathe. You can take most people at their word. Well, to an extent. Don’t be stupid about it.”
Kiara nodded solemnly. They were important life lessons from Lyric, after all.
“Speaking of, how long are your parents going to support you financially, Kiara?” Fatima asked. “Surely their love and patience has to run out eventually."
“Fatima!” Libby gasped, aghast. “Kiara, you don’t need to answer that.”
“No, that’s actually something I want to talk about. I have asked them to stop, but it’s done little good. I’ll forever by their little girl, and even I know better than to throw money away.”
“Could you send it back?” Fatima asked.
Lyric snorted. “They’d send it right back and probably show up in person to somehow force that money into her bank account. Kiara’s right. She’s their ‘darling’ daughter who they miss dearly! They’d do near anything to ensure that she always lives comfortably.”
“Must be nice,” Fatima sighed.
Kiara’s face darkened. “Excuse me?”
“I, uh, understand why it’s not something you appreciate though, Kiara. Just, put yourself in any of our shoes.”
“Trust me,” Lyric said with a knowing look. “Money or not, the strings attached make it far from worth it. Working for that family gets bad enough as is on some occasions.”
A smile graced Kiara’s face again as she remembered her mother’s constant drama. “For instance… when Jacqueline gets into one of her moods and seals off her entire wing of the mansion.”
“Tell me about it,” Lyric groaned. “Those always just have to be the days where Master Antonio just needs me to bring something to her, and I have to bang on the door until she finally decides to let me in.”
“I am suddenly so glad that I am just a hairdresser!” Libby laughed. “I run my shop on my terms, and if someone is going to throw a fit, I have no choice other than to throw them out along with it.”
“I fear even picturing what Mrs. Sanchez would do to me if I dared…”
“We come with food!” Houda called out from across the plaza as she and Luna returned to the group carrying several boxes of takeout. “Kiara, I’m assuming you’re covering all of it…”
“Oh, naturally!”
“Kiara! That was a joke,” Houda exclaimed, shaking her head. “We’re splitting the check, obviously! But, let’s worry about that later, alright? ‘Cause I’m starving.”
“We went all out,” Luna smiled. “Anything you and I wouldn’t have had at home Kiara, we prioritized. This is going to be delicious!”
Later that night, a young man by the name of Josh Marks readjusted the hat on his head on his regular walk home. The wind kept trying to push it off his head, but he’d had a bad hair day, and he had no plans on exposing his hair to the world until he was back safely within the walls of his own home.
He’d had a bad work day too. He’d finished work on that wealthy Oscar Feng’s mansion well over a month ago, but he kept calling him up and asking for infuriating minute adjustments that wasted his time and the time of all the workers he had to keep contracting. But the pay was good, so he couldn’t complain too much.
He unlocked the front door of his apartment building, then closed it behind him. As he was about to lock it, he noticed what he assumed was a young couple in the lobby, a brown haired boy with a permanent scowl on his face and a girl with long ginger hair who was nearly bouncing on her feet in excitement. He felt as if they were watching him.
“Can I help you?” Josh asked. “Do you need directions, or…”
The girl only giggled.
The guy cleared his throat. “Nope. All’s good here. Just waiting for someone.”
Josh nodded slowly, then proceeded to the elevator. Something about those two… He’d never seen either of them in his building before, but that wasn’t saying much. He doubted he knew even a third of the people in his building, and yet… There was a growing pit of anxiety in his stomach, and he couldn’t quite pinpoint the reason for why it existed, but his steps grew quicker as he neared his apartment door.
With shaky hands, he struggled to fit the key into the lock. When he finally did, and pushed the door open, he entered a pitch dark room. And it was quiet. Way too quiet for a small apartment he shared with his wife and son.
“Jany?” he called out.
There was no response.
“Skylar?”
He fumbled his way along the wall until he found a light switch. When he finally managed to hit it, the light illuminated an apartment that has been cleared out save for a single dining table in the middle of the room. There was a folded piece of paper on that dining table.
With careful steps, Josh slowly approached the paper.
Josh Marks,
If you wish to see your family again, you must follow one simple instruction:
Report to the Sanchez Mansion by 9am tomorrow.
You are being followed. If you take any action that might compromise this simple instruction, you and your family will not live to tell the tale.
Sincerely,
A. S.