You were a trad goth. Fancy outfits and white makeup with corsets and jewelery. John had been completely okay with it. Hell, he loved it. It was so unique and beautiful. You had a car, a black 1967 Chevy Impala that you loved to death.

You and John lived in a nice house in a nice neighborhood. You guys had a dog that loved the hell out of you but seemed to hate John's guts for no reason at all. It was funny and cute. You owned a vintage bookstore while John was still in the Air Force.

Today, John invited his friends from the TaskForce over. You had just finished getting ready and dressing up as you did every day. The doorbell rang, and John stood up from the couch yountwo were sitting on and opened the door.