Your mother was about to sacrifice what she held dearest to save you – and even then, she fought for your family to the last. You need to repay the favor – no, you need to do it because she gave you life, and because she’d give her life for you.
The guy behind you might be a threat, but nothing like the monster before you. Tessa Wright may look and act regal, but inside her is a monster that cares little for her daughters, seeing them as transactional objects. The contrast is highly ironic – two mothers, with flaws and virtues, but one cares little for her progeny while the other would do anything for them.
And because of that, your thumb doesn’t hesitate as you point the black pen at her, the image of your terrified mother seeing how a complete stranger just saved her from disaster. You imagine yourself from the outside, drawing a cocky smirk on Tony Scaccia’s hard face, as you see his boss deflate helplessly after seeing fear in her face.
However, reality kicks in as you hear the guy behind you gasp. “Wh-what the hell was that, Tony?”
You turn around, pen at hand, and the guy swipes it off you. You see he’s about to run away, but you tackle him and brawl, hoping to restrain him. You’re evenly matched in physical strength, but you lack combat experience (and neither does Quentin – let alone Cassie), and he soon overcomes you.
But it’s when he lands a single punch on you when you realize you made the right choice. The other guy’s punch clocks you, but you can only imagine what happens next as you hear your mother, in Barbara’s voice, roar in sheer anger.
“Get off my baby boy, you fu--!”
--
You’re shaken awake by a voice both familiar and strange. “Davey? Davey, wake up.”
“Huh?” As you awake, you see someone like Ashley, but younger and more voluptuous. You’re glad to see her, though the thoughts running on your mind disgust you. (Mostly because Quentin’s entranced by her cleavage, while you feel disgusted by the idea of being lustful for your mother – or sister, in Cassie’s case.) “Uh... don’t get too close, Mom.”
“Why wouldn’t I!?” She brings your face closer to Barbara’s breasts, and you almost feel like fainting again.
“Mom! You’re smothering with her breasts!”
“Her?” She leans back, and as she moves her leg, she feels your thing in full mast. “Dear Lord! Davey, what’s gotten into you?”
“I think that joke’s running stale,” you tell her as you sit straight. “Remember I got a horny guy riding along.”
“Right...” She rubs her forehead, grunting. “The quicker I can get rid of that Ross in my mind, the better.” She looks at you with Barbara’s green eyes, puzzled. “Is this what it feels not being yourself?”
“Right now,” you reply in Tony’s gruff voice, “I could use a rest from these.” She laughs, and you two, for this is the one moment of peace in the storm.
But that peace lasts too little, as your mother points out the obvious. “What now?”
“I dunno.” You’re still sitting on the floor, only noticing what’s left of the other guy. He’s deflated, but you can see the blood on his nose, and your mother’s hands are stained. “Did you...?” you say, pointing at him.
“Why do you think I want to get off this?” she exclaims. “When I saw you on the floor, and I saw him punching you, I... I don’t know what got over me. I know it was that man – the one ‘riding’ with me – that said ‘if you care for your kid, do something’. So I did.”
“You punched him to death?”
“Not to death, Davey. I beat the crap out of – I mean, I grabbed him and punched him, and when I realized what I was doing, I took the pen and used it on him.”
You chuckle, as after that pummeling, being knocked out feels like mercy. “Thanks,” you say as you look at her and her relieved face.
“You don’t have to, Davey. And... I’m sorry that made that decision. I told that woman everything, in hopes I could appeal to her maternal instincts. Turns out...” She sighs, almost breaking into tears. “She’s got none. And now...” She grabs you, her tears falling into her cheeks. “What are we going to do, Davey!? What will happen when they try to call her? What if they appear out of nowhere?”
“Let me think!” Using Tony’s voice scares even you, and you see your mother cowering behind the desk. You grin half-heartedly, trying to calm her. “Sorry.”
“No, Davey. I should apologize. If not for you, we wouldn’t be here – and I mean it in a good way.”
Doesn’t mean I didn’t fuck up some things on the way... Despite your mother’s intention, her claim doesn’t feel like a boast. Because of you, your parents have separated – but your mother’s happier than she’s ever been. Your family’s in shambles, but at least nothing will harm them. And the Wrights...
Ashley’s safe – in a manner of speaking – but Barbara is stained, and Cassie might be in trouble. Your best bet is to get inside Tessa and figure out how deep she is, and what to do.
“I guess I’ll have to deal with this, just like with everything else. Mind stepping away?”
“Why?”
“I need to take this guy off – and maybe Cassie and Quentin too. But most importantly... I have to interrogate Missus Wright.”
--
You clench your finger, hoping to take Scaccia off. What’s he doing with the pens? Is he really betraying you?
You look at your finely manicured hand, noticing it’s missing something – the gun you were just threatening Barbara. Though she’s not really Barbara – she's a woman by the name of Marie Anderson, and she claims she claimed your daughter Ashley’s life out of spite.
You were planning a deal with her. Trevor, the man Ashley ruined out of spite, was to replace her, but he took too long and fucked up. Ashley was up to her old tricks, using her looks to snatch a middle-aged man. (And a family man? Why couldn’t she aim higher – give you something to work with?)
But she seems to be gone. There are a lot of skins lying around – Cassandra, the Vossler boy wearing her, Barbara and Ross Marquand, Danny Morello and Tony Scaccia. Only Ashley stands there, looking at you...
No, waiting for you. Waiting for you to recover from that dream, of those last fleeting thoughts Tessa Wright had before being converted into yet another of these skins.
“You with me, Davey?”
“Yes.” She helps you stand, but you need the desk’s help to lift your weight. Tessa Wright is not fat, but the sheer size of her breasts and hips makes it difficult to stand on your own. You’re surprised your mother stepped in before you could finish dressing. “I thought I told you I wanted privacy.”
“Good Lord, David. You sound just like her.”
“Like who?” You feel dazed, and a migraine creeps into your head. Why would Ashley tell you that--?
“Like Mrs. Wright. Something wrong?”
You reassert yourself, but your body swells with indignation. What’s gotten up with Ashley Denise? Doesn’t she know who I am? And why would she be here, of all places, when I--?
That’s when you notice you’re struggling. With Quentin and with Cassie, it’s been collaboration – you ask them, and they answer, and when you tell yourself you’re them to the point of believing, you manage to act like them. But Tessa doesn’t want to, and she seems to want to take over.
That’s not Ashley, you think to yourself. And I’m not Tessa. Who are you supposed to be anyways?
You feel the migraine creeping into your spine, and you groan and cramp. Who am I supposed to be? I am Tessa Wright. You insinuate I’m someone else?
“David?” your mother asks, and hearing Ashley’s tone stirs you. “What’s happening?”
“I don’t know...” You rub your eyes with your palm, clenching your teeth. “It’s like... I can’t control her.”
“David, if she’s trying to take over you, I think it’s better if you--”
“No.” For once, you’re in agreement – Tessa doesn’t want to leave you, and you need to figure out everything. But if she wants this semblance of “life” to continue, she needs to cooperate.
And that means doing something you haven’t done thus far. Asserting your authority. Listen up – all I need to do is rip off my flesh and you--
Why would you want to? She purrs, savoring the game. Why take me off? Why wear me in the first place if you’re so scared?
Because I want information. And you will give it to me. (That last bit channeled what was left of the guy you posed as before.)
You sense a pregnant silence born from deep thought overcoming your senses. It doesn’t feel like an interrogation room – it feels like an audience, and if it weren’t because of that ballsy move, you’d be kneeling before her.
But when she finally speaks, you sense her amusement. I like you. You’ve got guts. Straight and to the point. Well, then. What do you want to ask?
You look at your mother, letting her know you’re in charge. You rephrase your original question, hoping that you get a straight answer like Quentin and Cassie give you. Who are you? Are you really Tessa Wright, or are you--?
She scoffs, making you feel inferior. I was not always her. But for all you should care? I am Tessa Wright. And I will always be Tessa Wright.
Then, Tessa... Who were you?
She scoffs. I once was one Marvin Frederick Wright. But that man is gone now. Dead. Why do you want him revived?
Because, you tell the mental echo of Marvin Wright – now Tessa Wright – in your mind, I want to know why you ruined her and her daughter’s lives.
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