The Painter's Daydream Before Oblivion

1. Finn

Hell hath no fury like Finn Vega scorned, and the fist hitting across his face was making him rethink the last couple of hours of his life.

He was losing to Sabrina. Again. Their tallies on the whiteboard would show he had lost two fights to her.

Soon to be three.

Finn and Sabrina stood across from each other in the sparring ring. The usual crowd of Conductors gathered around them. Sabrina flashed him a confident grin and rolled her shoulders as she shifted her stance.

Finn brushed his tattooed bronze hand across his forehead to push back the rebellious hair that had escaped his leather tie.

He needed a drink after this.

A cacophony of voices blurred into a single noise. He had trained Sabrina too well, and she was surpassing him. A touch of pride hit him just before she went for his face again.

She was good.

But not even under the penalty of scrapping his black Jeep, Gypsy, for spare parts would he admit it.

Sabrina moved first, feigning left before throwing a quick jab.

Finn dodged by a hair. He countered with a swift kick aimed at her side.

He had hit her there earlier, and she was favoring her other foot.

But she blocked it, her arm coming up to deflect the blow.

“Nice try,” Sabrina quipped, lunging in to land a powerful hook. Stepping forward left her open. Seizing the moment, he pivoted on his heel, using the momentum to drive his fist into her side with a solid thud. Finn landed a hit right under her ribs. A grin split his face.

The crowd fell silent for a split second, then burst into shouts and cheers.

It was only worse because a crowd of Conductors was gathered around the squared circle, shouting for either party.

During breakfast, bets were placed on the outcome.

Sabrina stood on the tables, rallying her crew before her dad tried to put a stop to it.

Finn had placed a hefty bet on himself, two months’ worth of his dessert rations. And now? Goodbye, brownies.

Using his propped-up leg as a step stool, Sabrina swung her legs over his shoulders and hooked herself around his neck.

He tried to throw off the move by feigning left.

Using her psychic powers, which he swore she possessed, she followed his movements seamlessly and used his momentum to send them both crashing to the ground.

Charlie screamed his approval from the sidelines. Finn would have rolled his eyes if they weren’t popping out of his skull at the moment from the pressure of Sabrina’s leg locked around his neck.

“All you have to do is say please, Sunshine, and I’ll let you go.” Sabrina smirked, her blonde hair falling out of her ponytail. A new bruise faintly formed on her jaw.

He never begged, and he wasn’t going to start now.

His lips twitched as he tried to spit out a retort, but only a gasp came out, which was genuinely inconvenient for him because it was the last gulp of air he had, and he wasted it.

He gritted his teeth. His pride was one thing, but passing out in front of everyone was another.

Finn hesitated a moment longer before reluctantly tapping her arm. Mercifully, Sabrina released him and stepped back with a grin.

“Told you I’d win,” she said, raising her arms in victory. The crowd somehow grew louder, if that was even possible. Finn rubbed his neck, trying to ignore the eyes on him—so many eyes.

Whistler walked around the edge of the fight, focused on settling the bets.

The eleven-year-old wore the worn leather straps from the collection box around his neck.

That eleven-year-old kept the Way Station purring like a well-oiled machine.

After Whistler broke into Atlas, a CIA subgroup, he was recruited to work for them rather than thrown into federal juvie.

Finn was terrified of him. With a sly grin, Whistler opened the box, revealing its assortment of coins, bills, tokens, and anything else he deemed valuable.

“Alright. Pay up,” he drawled. “Sabrina took the win, just like I said she would.”

Snickering to his left caught his attention.

“Dalton, twenty extra laps tomorrow morning,” Finn shouted to the small group to his left.

“But I?—”

“Great, thirty. See you at five.”

Dalton shook his head and got out of there before Finn took out his frustration on him. He wasn’t mad about losing. Yes, it sucked. And yes, he would never hear the end of it from Sabrina, let alone his trainees, but he had been distracted again.

For the first time in his life, he had everything. Food, a roof over his head, friends, respect, and a job. He had made it. He should finally be happy and stop looking forward to the next thing. But he’d woken up in a cold sweat last night.

Something was coming.

The week felt big. Life-altering. And he didn’t like those words.

The phrase was usually followed by “We’re moving again; your father lost his job.

” Or “We’re being evicted tomorrow, pack a bag.

” “Surprise, your father lost this week’s rent, so we can’t buy you new shoes for school.

” He just hoped he was ready for it when it came.

Finn grew up surrounded by cigarette butts, crushed beer cans, and scratched-off lotto tickets.

While other kids were playing outside or doing homework, Finn learned to watch the adults around him.

He became adept at spotting subtle shifts in their body language—the nervous twitch of a finger, the way someone’s eyes would darken when they were bluffing.

Observation became his superpower. It built a wall around him and fueled the constant ping of his bullshit meter.

Finn watched his parents lose everything, Monday through Sunday, at the casino within walking distance of their home in Henderson, Nevada.

To Finn, Henderson was desolate and barren. There wasn’t a lick of green in the city except for the green dinosaur mascot at a couple of the local gas stations.

His parents would sneak him into the casinos. Children were not permitted to enter the gaming area. His mother would leave him at one of the many restaurants or buffets, with a schedule to move every two hours. Starving, surrounded by feasts from every country.

One of the cleaning ladies had caught on to his routine, taken pity on him, and snuck him food from the big kitchens. He owed her more than he owed his own mother.

The second he turned fourteen, he’d stolen his first car and driven away from his small town on the edge of Las Vegas. He didn’t stop until he reached the other side of the coast, wanting to be as far away from them as possible.

Charlie, Sabrina, and Finn helped lead the Way Station and did everything in their power to help the people affected by Legion. The Way Station was built as a refuge for families affected by Legion. It was Finn’s job to stop the Legion agents from creating more orphans.

Finn had lost hours of sleep trying to track the attacks and find a pattern, yet no matter how he looked at it, he couldn’t find the missing piece.

Legion were terrorists, ass-sucking mutants, snuffing out people’s lives like wisps of smoke, killing for no reason, and hurting the people he loved. Charlie and Sabrina were the only family he had. He loved them and would protect them with his dying breath.

Sabrina gave him a final wink, then flew through the crowd and landed in Charlie’s open arms. They both laughed, and Chucky congratulated her over and over as he held her tightly.

Finn’s eyes darted away. He was happy his friends were in such a good relationship, really, but did they have to kiss in front of everyone?

“I told you, hot sauce. You did it! Un-beat-able.” Charlie’s voice was brimming with pride and excitement, his laughter contagious.

“Did you see that move at the end?” she said, giddiness rolling off her in waves, nothing to do with her recent win.

“Did I see it? I couldn’t take my eyes off you.” Charlie beamed, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face. Sabrina gazed up at him, eyes softening as he poured out compliments.

Finn’s chest tightened as he loosened the snug, sweat-drenched strips of fabric wrapped around his knuckles. Blood rushed back into his hands, worsening the throbbing in his left hand. He was happy for them, but a pang of envy consumed him.

Finn took another gulp of water, trying to drown out the jealousy. He had been there when they first met, and they couldn’t take their eyes off each other. They still couldn’t. He had watched her fall in love with him and watched them become the most important to each other.

They were everything he’d ever wanted but convinced himself he didn’t need.

Sabrina glanced over at him, noticing his distant behavior.

“Hey, Finn! Don’t just stand there looking all mopey. Come join us. Charlie was just saying he owes you a drink for taking that beating so well,” she called out.

Finn was finally able to roll his eyes.

Charlie nodded, his grin splitting his face in two. “Yeah, man, it’s on me. It’s the least I can do after watching you go toe-to-toe with this one. I’ve taken her right hook while training, too.”

Charlie slipped an arm around Sabrina’s shoulders.

Finn straightened his back, plastered on a smile, and waved them off.

“I’ll take you up on that, but don’t think I’m letting you two gloat too much. Try to enjoy it while you can. Next time, I’m comin’ for you, Bug.”

“Next time?” Sabrina arched an eyebrow, her smile playful, as she took a calculated step toward him. “You sure you don’t want to quit while you’re behind, Sunshine? I’d hate to see you cry in front of all your fans.”

“Don’t call me that,” he snorted, shaking his head and taking a swig of warm water from his bottle. “And I’m not losin’ this bet.”

Like father, like son. Taking bets, he knew he was going to lose.

The bet was made three months prior. Most wins by the end of the year would result in either Sabrina getting to drive his car.

Once. Or if he won, he would get Sabrina to wear a “Finn Vega is better looking and far more superior than me” T-shirt and parade around the Way Station, singing the phrase at the top of her lungs.

So yeah, he needed to win. It didn’t help that other Conductors were betting on who would win.

Sabrina winked at him, the competitive spark in her eyes mirroring his own.

“I’ll be waiting, Sunshine.” She emphasized the nickname she teased him with. Once, she’d compared his disposition to a pissed-off rain cloud and said he needed more sunshine. The name regrettably stuck, but no one else dared call him that except her.

“In your dreams, hermanita,” he said, ruffling her hair.

The Conductors’ cheers faded, leaving only the low hum of chatter around them as they went on to their chores and their next mission.

Even though his side was throbbing, he still wanted to fight.

Finn clenched his fists, trying to shake off the emptiness that had settled in his gut.

He didn’t need anyone, not like that. He was better off on his own.

No one to worry about while he was on missions.

As they headed off together, Finn walked beside them.

He couldn’t help stealing a small, wistful glance in Sabrina and Charlie’s direction.

They were laughing again. The ease between them, the pure joy they found in each other’s company—it was something Finn couldn’t help but admire, even if he pretended not to care.

His parents used love as a barbed weapon, laced with spikes, to rip something out of each other.

But seeing Charlie and Sabrina together gave him some hope that love didn’t have to be that way.

Maybe one day. But for now, he’d stick to what he knew best: fighting and gambling.