Summary: A prologue to the fanfiction work Bonds. [PRE-NOTES] Bonds is a fanfiction based upon a video game titled “Snoot Game”. Snoot Game is a visual novel that gives its players meaningful choices to make throughout its narrative, many of which will impact the events that occur throughout the rest of the game, up to and including the ending. There are four available endings for Snoot Game; Bonds is based upon the third of those four. With the exception of very minor adjustments that were made to accommodate narrative needs of this story, Bonds faithfully draws upon its source material to create a continuation of Anon and Lucy’s journey, offering a glimpse at a potential path that the characters may have taken after the events of Snoot Game concluded. It has been written with the utmost respect and love of the source material. If you have not played Snoot Game, I cannot recommend it highly enough. It is an emotional, meaningful journey that stuck with this humble author so thoroughly that he wrote an entire novel based on it. A beautiful, engaging and enjoyable experience awaits you if you decide to give the game a try. You can download Snoot Game for free: https://snootgame.xyz If you aren’t interested in playing Snoot Game, or if you have played it and want a refresher on the story leading up to and including its third ending, this Prologue retells the events. Thank you for reading. [/PRE-NOTES] Journal Anon Y. Mous Thursday, September 14th, 201M2023 BC Can't believe I have to do this. What a waste of time. First, I get blown half to hell on my way out of the military. Four days before I'm supposed to go home, like one of those cliche action movie hero sidekicks. I guess I survived the rocket, so there's that. Got the scars to remember it by forever. Then, when I finally DO make it home, I get told by some pissant homeland desk jockey that I have to attend six weeks of mandatory psychological therapy. Got me saddled with a psychiatrist named Dr. Fitzgerald; just met with him for the first time yesterday. Typical stick-up-his-ass psycho-babble spewer. Doesn't even laugh at my jokes. What a tool. He told me I should start keeping a journal to help "sort things out in my mind". Like my mind needs sorting. I'm fine. I survived a fucking explosion. I recovered. I made it home. ... So why the hell am I actually writing in this thing? Just to make the good doctor happy? I don't know if he's gonna ask to look at this or not, or even keep up with whether I've been filling it in. ... I don't even really know what to write in it. I feel like a fucking teenage girl doing this shit. Guess I should start listing out my crushes or something: Lucy. Short list. Whatever. I'm done. This is retarded. — Saturday, September 16th, 201M2023 BC Let's try this shit again. I was gonna throw this fucking thing in the garbage, but Lucy asked me about my appointment. Wouldn't let it go when I tried to not discuss it, let it slip that Dr. Psycho-Babble suggested I keep a journal. She agreed with his suggestion. Why? I don't know. I think she's just trying to be supportive. I told her I had no idea what the hell to write. Yes, we're engaged and we're only about a month away from our wedding, but what the hell else is there to write? I started a new job mindlessly hitting a keyboard for eight hours. I spend every minute I can with Lucy, taking her on dates or spending time with her at her folks' house as we make preparations for our wedding. I'm happy. So what good is this journal? I don't have psychological trauma. I'm not sorting shit out in my head. I'm fine. But... here I am with this pen in my hand again, scribbling in this stupid composition notebook. At least it will make Lucy happy to know I'm doing it. ... Wonder if she'll ever read it. ... Would I read her journal if I knew she was keeping one? ... Well, just in case she does read it... I love you, Lucy. Now and forever. — Tuesday, September 19th, 201M2023 BC Forgot about this for a few days. Lucy brought it up again. I was over at her place. Her parents weren't home. We made love. It sucks having to be sneaky about it, but we're desperate for one another. Three years apart will do that to a couple, I suppose. Wouldn't be a problem if we had our own place... but we still have to figure that out. I'm hunting for apartments online during my breaks at work. I just don't want to have any awkward time after our wedding day. I sure as shit ain't moving into her bedroom with her parents there to listen at the door. ... I'm rambling. But it's my journal. Maybe that's okay. Anyway, Lucy brought it up while we were snuggling together. I told her I wrote in it a couple times but that I didn't know what to write about. She suggested I start writing about my past. My childhood, my early memories, so on. Fuck that noise. But I do have some memories I want to relive, even if only in the awkward prose of a dumb Army vet’s journal: My time at Volcano High. The second half of my senior year. When I met Lucy. When I fell in love. It was early January in the year of our Lord 201M2020 BC. I was a spry 18 year old lad at the time, full of joy and eagerness to begin my new adventure several states away from where I grew up! Except that’s a fucking lie. I wasn't happy, I was miserable. I wasn't eager, I was annoyed. And I wasn't 18 yet, that was still a couple months away. I was an awkward, lonely and lost teenager whose parents agreed to let him move to the coast in search of a happy, or at least tolerable end to what was a torturous high school experience. Volcaldera Bluffs. A coastal town renowned for its beautiful vistas and low-ish crime rates. Far enough away from the big cities and the homeless folks shitting in the streets to make me feel okay about the move. Far enough away from my problems to give me the escape I craved. At least, I hoped. The high school into which I enrolled was just a dart thrown at a board. There were a half dozen choices, so I just went with the one that had a cool name: Volcano High. It wasn't until my first day when I approached the steps leading to the campus that I realized I had made a bit of a mistake. This was an almost 100% exclusively dinosaur-attended school. Mind you, I wasn't a racist, though I did pretend to be one from time to time on the internet to get a rise out of folks. My upbringing in a home rife with loose slur usage by my parents didn't help either. I still felt a twinge of panic as I drank in the sight before me: a literal technicolor rainbow of reds, yellows, blues and greens; a sea of horns, talons, tails and wings. Even though our evolutionary paths had brought us to a very close end point, I had never felt entirely comfortable standing next to a bipedal humanoid dinosaur. Hell, most of them could take off my head with one quick swipe of their claws or a rapid snap of their jaws. Sorta feels like humans lost the evolutionary battle. But hey, at least we're all equals now. As far as, ya know, rights and such. ... Rambling again. — Wednesday, September 20th, 201M2023 BC I'm actually having fun writing about my high school experience. I'm gonna keep doing this. Where was I? Ah. The stairs leading up to Volcano High. This was an impactful moment in my life for one very important reason: It was the first time I laid eyes on Lucy. The slender, mint green pterodactyl woman that I would one day call my fiance was a far cry from her modest appearance these days, sporting a black halter top and ripped black jeans that were tucked into black boots that climbed to her knees. Her eyes were flanked by descending, natural V-shaped markings on her cheeks and purple and red eyeliner above. Flowing gray hair reached down to the flat of her back and wrapped around the crest that protruded from the back of her head. Her crest was also encircled by a spiked headband, another adornment lending to the obvious image of “punk girl” she sported. Her short tail swayed slightly and her gray feathered wings bristled with the gentle breeze. And her eyes, the color of brilliant amber, pierced me with an intense gaze. Yeah. It was the first time she laid eyes on me, too. And I gotta say... she did NOT like what she saw. I know my pale skin and bald head stuck out like a sore thumb in the sea of scaly dinosaurs. That first look, though… it felt like she was looking at walking garbage. And maybe she was. I certainly didn’t feel like much more than walking garbage. All I wanted was to be left alone. Cruise through the remainder of my high school career so I could go on living my miserable life, keeping myself entertained with internet shitposts and eternal apathy. Her disgusted look didn’t last long; she turned back to her friends, a shortstack purple triceratops with a big rack and a chill-looking orange velociraptor with a bushy red tail. Just another look from another person I never needed to talk to again. Or so I thought. I circled around to a quieter side entrance with a small garden and took a seat on a rickety wooden bench, hoping to unburden myself for a few minutes before class started… when the damn thing collapsed underneath me. I was no fatass, mind you. I was a skinny lanklet of a twig, so a stiff breeze would have likely undone this sitting apparatus in a similar fashion to what my ass had just accomplished. As I checked myself for broken bones, two more dinosaurs approached me: a creamsicle-colored parasaurolophus girl by the name of Naomi, and a brownish pterodactyl dude in a terrible floral-patterned jacket who called himself Naser. My welcoming committee to Volcano High. Naomi, the class president, had taken the liberty of volunteering me for my electives while I spaced out. I didn’t care what classes I was going to attend. I just wanted to get the year over and done with. Naser was pretty chill, though. He was a big deal with the track team, plus he was dating Naomi. Seemed like a bro. Through her prying, Naomi discovered I was pretty tight on cash and didn’t have a good plan set up for… well, eating. She signed me up for the cafeteria’s lunch card; Naser, being the bro that he was, told me that there would be a concert in the auditorium after school, and that there would be free pizza. He also mentioned that his sibling named “Fang” played in the band. What’s the worst that could happen? — Thursday, September 21st, 201M2023 BC The concert happened. For some bizarre reason, that pterodactyl I had seen on the school’s stairs plus her other two dinosaur friends were performing as a “double bass” set-up, and the end result was the equivalent of aural rape. (Lucy, if you ever read this journal in the future, I love you very much. I’m sorry about being so blunt, but… it’s the truth. Holy Raptor Jesus on his cross of rock, that performance was bad.) The crowd quickly turned on the band, jeering and booing them loudly. Lucy, who I still didn’t know yet, flipped out on the crowd and cussed them out, but this only led to more jeers. I’m embarrassed to admit it now, but I laughed, too. It was a real shitshow, and being the edgelord that I was, I simply reveled in their failure. Of course, that revelry only lasted until the hulking form of Principal Spears made his dramatic entrance, shouting loud enough to demolish my eardrums and bringing a rapid conclusion to the bungled performance. As the students filed out, the cro magnon man with a mop of messy black hair and thin-rimmed glasses stopped me with an accusatory stare. He knew I was laughing at the band, and he wasn’t happy with me about it. His words still resonate in my mind to this day: “You are not the only person in the world. Everyone is fighting their own battles.” Talk about a shitty first impression to make with the principal, of all people. Well, I had gotten my free pizza dinner plus some leftovers to take home. My first day at Volcano High was done. A few days later, as I started to fall into a comfortable routine of apathy and disinterest, I met “Fang”, Naser’s “sibling”, for the first time. Fang was the pterodactyl gal in the band. Probably should have guessed, considering Naser is a pterodactyl too, but I never said I was a genius. I also didn’t get why Naser kept referring to her as a “sibling” instead of as his sister. I found out pretty quickly. In science class, when Dr. Fernsworth told everyone to pair up, it was Fang and yours truly who were left stranded without a partner. Made sense; the awkward new kid and the chick who headlined the disaster on stage. She begrudgingly sat next to me and we began our classwork. She was cold, distant and rude. Sooner I could get that assignment done and get away from her, the better. When Dr. Fernsworth came around to ask how things were going, Fang replied with a sharp “Fine,” and I followed it up with “Yeah, what she said.” This was apparently the wrong thing to say. Little did I know that Fang actually identified as non-binary, meaning she didn’t want to be called a “she” at all. She wanted to go by “they”. And she let me know this fact. Loudly. This was her big moment. The chance for her to tell off the closed-minded bigot seated next to her and to proclaim to the world that she was non-binary. However, her rant got cut short when Dr. Fernsworth asked her to step into the hallway. When she looked around, she realized… nobody cared. Nobody was applauding or cheering for her. They all just minded their own business, disinterested in Fang or her proclamations. After she left the room, Dr. Fernsworth apologized on her behalf, informing me that she was experiencing “issues”. When she came back in, she apologized, too. Of course, I was left confused. Why would someone wanting to be referred to as non-binary dress so… provocatively? Well, it wasn’t my place to pry. I did my best to be polite and gender Fang according to her wishes. By the end of class, we actually got along somewhat okay, too. As for this journal? Hey, I’m marrying her. And, spoilers: she’s long since dropped the non-binary thing. If someone reads my fucking journal and gets butthurt about my pronoun usage for my soon-to-be wife, they can blow me. — Saturday, September 23rd, 201M2023 BC Lucy and I met with her pastor today. He’ll be doing our wedding which is only three weeks away now! When he was going over the details about how the ceremony will be handled, Lucy’s tail was swinging back and forth so hard I thought it might detach itself and squirm away on the floor. It’s really adorable to see how excited she’s getting as we get closer to the big day, and I have to admit I’m feeling the butterflies, too. I can’t wait. I want to spend my life with you, Lucy. Anyway, where was I with my high school memory deluge? Ah, yes. Fang: the woman who I’d someday call by her birth name and become engaged to. Well, it turns out that Fang and her brother didn’t get along very well back then. Spending several lunch hours with Naser and Naomi, I learned that Fang really let Naser have it for the whole stunt at the concert. It was Naser’s idea to buy the pizzas for everyone, which basically served as a bribe for a ton of students who would otherwise not have shown up. Little did he know that the concert would turn into the mess it did; from what I gathered, he was just trying to support his sister. She didn’t see it that way, and was pretty violently pushing him away. I ended up getting paired with Fang a few more times for group work. Things slowly got better between us. I wouldn’t go so far as to call us “friends” at that point, but there was certainly less bitterness. I also got to meet her two friends and bandmates in my math class. The purple triceratops with the short stature and shorter temper was Trish, and the orange-hued velociraptor with half-lidded eyes and a constant high was Reed. Trish was the second of their two-bass set-up, and Reed played the drums. While Reed seemed pretty cool, even if he was stoned out of his gourd for twenty-five hours a day, Trish was someone I desperately wanted to avoid pissing off. I had witnessed her pummel another student half to death in the hallway, a guy who had been a member of the laughing crowd during that ill-fated concert. Thankfully, neither Reed nor Trish recognized that I was also in that crowd, and I wasn’t about to tell them. Fang didn’t realize it, either. I preferred to keep my participation on the down-low and avoid an early death if possible. On my way out of class, I accidentally grabbed Reed’s backpack instead of my own. I should have caught on quicker, given the differing weight and audible sound of glass clattering together. Seemed like he had an entire drug lab in there, probably getting ready to cook some of that blue stuff from that TV show people couldn’t shut up about a few years back. I considered for a moment turning the contraband in and earning some brownie points with the principal, but I decided to be a bro instead and returned the bag to Reed. He saw my gesture as one of goodwill and invited me to hang out with him for lunch and, by proxy, Trish and Fang. Trish was none too pleased about this development. She already didn’t like me, considering me to be a “bad influence” on Fang after I showed her how to make a railgun in one of our science classes. Said something about Fang being happy and not needing anyone confusing her. I didn’t know what the hell she was on about, I just showed the cool ptero girl something neat I learned on the internet. Fang was pretty apprehensive about me joining them for lunch, too, but our time together in those science classes warmed her up to me a little bit. It was bizarre. I wasn’t trying to get to know these people. I didn’t care about friends or want them. I just wanted to coast and get by with my head down. For whatever reason, though… we slowly started to grow closer. I just… wish we still were friends today. — Sunday, September 24th, 201M2023 BC Lucy’s at church. She’s invited me along in the past, but I’m not exactly clamoring to go. I’ve always been on the fence about the whole religion thing, and after what I experienced in the Army… Well. Another time. I’ll be spending this afternoon with Lucy and her parents, so I may as well use my free morning to write. I’ll be honest, it actually feels nice to write this journal. Back in high school, science wasn’t the only class I had with Fang. It turns out, Naomi had also signed me up for music class. I’d complain, considering I knew absolutely nothing about music, but I was the dummy who nodded listlessly and agreed to whatever Naomi suggested for my electives, so I guess I get what I deserve. Unlike me, Fang being in a music class made sense, given her implied musical background what with being in a band and all. The teacher gave us a free period to just play around with the instruments and have fun. I didn’t know a guitar from a ukulele at the time, so I opted to just veg out. That is, until I noticed Fang messing with one of the guitars in class. I approached and was surprised to hear that her guitar playing… wasn’t awful. In fact, it was pretty damn good. Good enough that the concert would have probably sounded okay if she was on guitar instead of bass. Of course, I was still keeping it to myself that I had attended, so I had to bring the subject up discreetly. I managed to avoid suspicion; Fang volunteered that she was playing in her band as a second bassist. I asked her why, pointing out that a good double bass band might as well be a double rainbow with how rare they were. She scoffed at my criticism and I countered by challenging her: try playing with guitar instead of bass and see how it stacks up. She agreed, and at their next practice she lugged along both her bass and her guitar with me in tow. Trish was not happy about this arrangement. She knew best, and what was best to Trish was double bass. However, Fang stood her ground and insisted they play two songs, one with her on each instrument, then vote on it. As I knew would happen, the double bass performance was abysmal. It nearly gave me a headache as I sat through it. When Fang swapped over to guitar and they began their second song… it was actually good. Very good, in fact. I was unconsciously tapping my feet along to the music. When all was said and done, Fang called for another vote. Trish voted for double bass, Fang voted for guitar… and their drummer, Reed, voted for guitar. I voted guitar, too, but as I wasn’t a member of the band my vote didn’t count. Still, two to one in favor of palatable music, and Fang was ecstatic. It was really nice to see her excited and happy. In one of our later music classes, I decided to pester Fang when I was struggling with some of the work that had been assigned; namely, I had no clue what the hell I was doing. She gave me shit about this, of course, but it turned out she was a pretty patient teacher and actually helped me decipher some of the riddles and mysteries of my homework. Out of the blue, Fang asked me why I had transferred to Volcano High. She was suspicious of me. Accused me of “worming” my way into her friend group. To be frank, I felt pretty weird about having become closer to them myself. It just kind of worked out that way, I guess. And I definitely wasn’t close enough friends with Fang to tell her why I left Rock Bottom, the high school I transferred away from. I don’t know that I would have ever shared that with her, even today with our plans to spend our lives together. That was a part of my past I wanted to forget and put behind me forever. I managed to dodge the question… for the time being. Several days later, I found myself in weekend detention, having to come in on Saturday morning as punishment for using the school’s wifi to torrent anime. Worth. That anime was kino. This was where I met Rosa, a reddish-brown-hued ankylosaur gal with a strong latina accent and a mostly pleasant demeanor (except when I fell into her Middlemist Red Camellias… twice), as well as Stella, a green stegosaurus I had seen around campus before who enjoyed tarot, anime and being socially awkward. I could relate with a few of those things. The two members of the school’s gardening club were in charge of detention, instructing me and the other students on what to do to help keep the grounds around the school. It turned out that Fang was in detention, too. She didn’t tell me why, but we once again found ourselves paired up as we were assigned our tasks. We started by trimming the vines hanging from the sides of the school. Fang had climbed a ladder and was chopping away as I held the ladder steady. Of course, the sundered vines landed right on my head, making my skin burn. I tried to ask her to stop but one of the discarded vines caught me in the eyes and, blinded, I grabbed at whatever I could to get her attention. I grabbed the wrong thing. In an instant I was on my ass in a bed of flowers with a pissed off pterodactyl looming over me, baring her teeth and practically breathing fire. Yeah. I had pulled on her tail. I honestly didn’t mean to, so I had to apologize pretty profusely to get her to chill out. Rosa rounded the corner and found me ass-deep in her prized Red Camellias, and she just about took my head off for it. However, Stella calmed her down and, in lieu of death, I was simply moved over to weeding duty along with Fang. As we ripped weeds out of the earth, we chatted with one another. We found out we had a little bit in common with our shared animosity towards the current state of the world. We both felt like there were too many people who contributed too little, and it was only a matter of time before we’d end up in an armageddon situation. I was just beginning to think that the two of us were finally getting along decently, and might even be able to become friends… And then I opened my stupid mouth and let slip what I’d been hiding for so long. I accidentally mentioned the crowd at her concert. And unlike me, Fang wasn’t dense. She instantly picked up on the fact that me knowing how the crowd reacted to her concert meant that I was there too. I considered trying to play the whole thing off, but I realized that I was up shit creek and that trying to lie was only going to cause more trouble. I came clean, admitting that I was there and that I had also laughed. I tried to defend myself, bringing up that this all happened before I had gotten to know any of them, but the damage was done. Fang took off. I tried to chase but tripped, landing in the Red Camellias for a second time and earning much more wrath from Rosa. Before I could deal with that, though… I had to find Fang. I had to make this right. I found her in the parking lot. She asked if I wanted to help her jack a car. I tried to apologize, but she just started kicking the hell out of one of the teacher’s cars instead. With its alarm blaring, I did my best to apologize again, but the approaching teacher made both of us flee for our lives. We escaped discovery and I tried once more to make things right, but Fang ducked away from me again. There was nothing else I could do. I had to go back to Rosa, face further detention as punishment for messing up the flower bed, and spend an extra two hours helping replant the flowers that I had crushed. I assumed it was over. I fucked up another thing in my life, just adding to a string of fuck-ups that would continue in perpetuity. That is… until Fang approached me after my extra punishment. She didn’t have to stay. She was done with her own detention hours ago, but she hung around anyway. When I was getting ready to leave, she spoke to me. She told me that she wasn’t angry that I was in the crowd or that I had laughed (though she did reiterate that it was a dick move on my part, to which I agreed). Instead… she told me that she was upset because I didn’t trust her enough to tell her. She thought we were becoming friends, and she didn’t want something like this to get in the way of our friendship. She accepted my apology… and we were friends. Fang… Lucy… Thank you. If you hadn’t accepted my apology… if you decided that I wasn’t worth the trouble anymore… if you discarded me like everyone else had discarded me in my life up to that point… I wouldn’t be where I am. I wouldn’t be marrying the woman of my dreams. I love you. — Monday, September 25th, 201M2023 BC Everything was going nicely yesterday when I was visiting with Lucy and her folks. We were smiling and chatting about our upcoming plans for the wedding. I made mention of my continuing search for an apartment; Ripley gave me kind of a weird smile, and Samantha tittered. I don’t know what was amusing about my situation, but I guess that’s just what future in-laws do: confuse their future son-in-laws. After dinner, Lucy and I spent some time on the back porch, enjoying the early autumn evening. We were having a pleasant conversation; she was telling me about some of the kids in the preschool class she teaches. She mentioned that one of them was some sort of big-brain baby genius and had been gifted a small chemistry set by his parents for his birthday. He brought it into class and was trying to teach the other kids about what chemical compounds are safe to mix together for fun reactions. I assume he was met with blank stares and fingers up noses, if my experience with preschoolers is any indication. But… I made a mistake. Her story about a student with a chemistry set reminded me of Reed and his backpack full of decanters, beakers and phials. I brought him up, not thinking as I started to recall a story where he was literally cooking up carfentanyl in the middle of lunch period. The telltale signs started immediately. Lucy turned deathly quiet. She started shrinking into herself. Her beak lowered into her chest, and her hands reached for the feathers in her wings. She was going to preen. Thankfully, I noticed in time and I was able to stop her. I grabbed her hands and snapped her out of it, being met by her panicked gaze, followed by her tears. Preening for Lucy isn’t the same as a bird preening. It’s a sort of panic attack she has where she forcibly pulls out her feathers. If she does it, the result is bloody and painful. It’s self-harm. It’s something she’s been struggling with for years, and something she’s trying to overcome… but we’re not there yet. The first time I ever encountered Fang preening was in high school. It was about a month after our detention. Our friendship was growing, as was my friendship with Reed. Trish… not so much, but at least she tolerated me somewhat. I spent most of my lunch hours with them, shooting the shit and getting to know each of them better. However, one day Fang was acting very distant and vacant. Trish told me to check on her and see what was wrong; apparently she thought whatever was upsetting Fang was my fault. Dunno what the fuck I would have done, but I agreed to ask what was up during our next class together. She wasn’t in music class. I assumed she was in the can or something, but fifteen minutes into class and she’s still nowhere to be seen. I asked the teacher to be excused, being given an old, beat up guitar with the words “Hall Pass” scrawled on its body, and set out in search of Fang. I wasn’t making any headway… until I happened to notice a few feathers drifting down from beyond a window. I made my way up to the roof. There sat Fang, with feathers scattered around her and blood oozing from her wings and arms. I asked her what was up, and she simply said that she was preening. I didn’t know a thing about pterodactyls at this point, but I knew it looked like it hurt. I took a seat next to her and… I listened. Fang unloaded her frustrations upon me in a verbal maelstrom. She felt that she was unseen, despite doing so much to try to stand out in the world. Her years of playing music had culminated in jeering crowds and a poor reputation. Her non-binary identity had yielded no adulation or praise. Even her parents considered her a “lost cause”, putting all of their focus and attention on Naser, the star athlete and golden child. Her disdain for her brother was palpable. She hated his attitude and his desire to always help her. She felt like she was in his shadow. She hated herself and everything she represented. Then she turned her ire my way. She started screaming at me that I must have thought myself better than her since I merely stayed quiet while she unburdened her emotions. I finally spoke up with an ineloquent response, merely stating that “I am myself.” I didn’t force myself to be something I wasn’t, something I thought other people wanted me to be or something I thought others would approve of. I was just me. Fang told me that she has a time like this every year. She told me the reason for her preening… not just her own sadness or remorse, but the hurt she had inflicted on those closest to her, too. All I could do was hug her and comfort her. I didn’t want to see her hurting like this. I wanted her to be happy. I wanted to see her smile. Our time on the roof came to an abrupt end as Principal Spears literally burst the rooftop door from its hinges, sending it hurtling through the suicide fence and into the parking lot below. It’s a miracle no cars got damaged or students flattened. He was quite displeased to find us there, but when he saw Fang he seemed to catch on to what was happening. He told me to get back to class while he took Fang to the nurse’s office. As I started to head downstairs, I turned back. Fang gave me a smile. — Wednesday, September 27th, 201M2023 BC Today was my second session with Dr. Fitzgerald. Surprisingly, he seemed a lot more tolerable this time. Maybe he was different, or maybe I loosened up a little bit. Could be a bit of both. Either way, it wasn’t an entirely miserable experience. He asked me to share with him about what happened to me during my last few days of deployment. I… wasn’t ready to talk about it yet. He was pretty pleased to know that I’d been keeping up on this journal, even though it’s almost all just me rambling about how I met Lucy. He was fine with that. Didn’t ask to read it, just told me to keep it up so long as it was helping me feel better. I went on a date with Lucy after my appointment. We spent some time in Little Troodon, just sort of walking around and enjoying the town. We won’t have many more quiet nights together as we get closer to the wedding. Lucy’s kept a pretty level head about the whole thing, but her mom is going bonkers with making sure everything is as perfect as it can be for her little girl’s big day. I’m reminded of the first time I went on a “date” with Fang, and also the first time I met her parents. One Saturday, Fang asked me if I wanted to join her in looking for a venue for her band to play in town. I did my best to keep the spaghetti stuffed into my pockets and eschew any thoughts I had of this being a date as I made my way to her house. Within, I met Ripley and Samantha Aaron for the first time. Ripley was a burly pterodactyl man, similarly colored to his son Naser, who had a large chunk missing from his crest and several scars on his face. His attitude reflected his visage as he bared his teeth at me and made it evident that he’d likely have no qualms with snapping me in half like a twig should the opportunity present itself. Samantha, on the other hand, was a petite and polite pterodactyl woman who was all smiles and pleasantries. She spoke fondly about her daughter, Lucy (the first time I heard Fang referred to by her birth name), mentioning that Lucy had a very creative imagination. Naser was home, too, along with Naomi. When Fang came downstairs and we were just about to leave, Ripley stopped us dead in our tracks and insisted that Naser and Naomi join us. Apparently he was suspicious of my intentions, and no amount of me explaining that I was only Fang’s friend would change his mind. Of course, Naomi squealed in delight at the prospect of a “double date”, and Fang begrudgingly agreed… seeing as she had no choice in the matter. During our “double date” which amounted to us wandering around town in our fruitless search of a venue, we stopped for a drink break. Fang and Naser excused themselves to the restroom, leaving Naomi alone with me. At the opportunity, she started grilling me for information about Fang: how’s she doing, how have classes been going, etc. It wasn’t a unique situation, it always seemed like she wanted to pry into other people’s business… but something struck me as odd. Why was she asking me all of this stuff instead of her boyfriend, Naser? She dodged the questions at first, but I pressed the subject. She ended up letting it slip that her hands had been at work this entire time, purposefully leading me on a leash to classes and electives that would pair me up with Fang in the hopes that I would become friends with her. Her motivation wasn’t to help me make friends or help Fang, but to free up Naser’s time and help him feel less stressed out about his sister. I’ll admit, I saw red for a few moments. I was fucking furious that she had been playing me like a game piece in a strategic board game where the only fucking winner was her. But… I didn’t stay that way. I shook it off. I came to terms with the fact that my feelings were my own. Even if I had let a few things happen to me, I made the majority of my own decisions up to this point. Was still a bitch thing for her to do. Thank God Naser broke up with her after high school. Once Naser and Fang regrouped with us, we resumed our search for the elusive perfect venue spot. Fang was looking more and more pissed off by the presence of Naomi and Naser, and I knew I had to do something fast to avoid bloodshed. I whispered to Naser that we should try splitting up the group. He resisted at first, having been threatened with a painful death by their father, but with a little encouragement from Naomi he agreed. That left just me and Fang… together… alone. Come on, spaghetti. Stay in those pockets, damn you! Finding ourselves in a street market, a strange salesman promised to give us guidance on our “quest” in exchange for purchasing a trinket, a tiny Roomba that cleaned phone screens. I knew the asshole was taking me to the cleaners, but I figured, what the hell? Even if he turned out to be the quack I was sure he was, I’d get a cute little souvenir from my first date with Fang. After I slapped one of my meager remaining bills into his hand and he granted me the tchotchke, the vendor pointed us towards Dino Moe’s Pizza and Pasta, a nice little restaurant that was owned and operated by Fang’s “Uncle” Moe. Upon meeting Moe, I realized it was not a blood relation and more of a figurative one, considering he was a tyrannosaurus man with a wide grin and a curly black mustache to match his stereotypical pizza-pasta accent. Upon seeing the two of us on a date, Moe provided us with free pizza, and as Fang excused herself to the restroom I got a chance to chat with Moe a little more. He told me he was bowling buddies with Fang’s father and that he had known her and Naser since they were kids. When I asked him about Fang’s band playing a show at his restaurant, he instantly agreed. When Fang returned, I delivered the good news to her. She let out an adorable squee and wrapped me in a hug, her wings joining her arms in the gesture. The patented “double hug”. Her downy feathers cocooned me, granting warmth in combination with her body being pressed against mine. As adorable and paralysis-inducing as the gesture was, the feeling of something warm, soft and slightly moist pressing against my cheek lit my ears on fire. We separated and merely gazed at one another for a moment until the sounds of the restaurant around us snapped us back to reality. Her band had a venue. We all returned to Fang and Naser’s house and I bid them goodnight. Before I could start to head towards the bus stop, I watched Naser get kicked out of the house, punishment for letting Fang and I run off alone together. I sat on the curb with him for a few minutes, and he confided in me about his relationship with his sister. He expressed his irritation that he was basically never allowed to mess up or fail because of the expectations placed on him by his parents. Yet he still thought there was more he needed to do for Fang. I decided to make a bold suggestion: “Don’t.” I told Naser that it wasn’t his job to fix all of Fang’s problems for her. She was her own person and had to deal with her own issues. She needed support, not fixing. Through my lecture… I started to realize that I was beginning to develop feelings for Fang. Naser realized it, too, and though he initially wanted to react with anger towards me he reluctantly accepted the truth since he assumed Fang would not return my feelings. I’ll have to remember to give him some shit for this at our wedding. — Tuesday, October 3rd, 201M2023 BC VVURM DRAMA. I was trying to remember what the hell the name of Lucy’s band was back in high school. I didn’t have the heart to ask her because I didn’t know if it would trigger another episode. Instead, I decided to do a little snooping while she was in the shower, taking a peek through some of the old notebooks she had from high school tucked into her bedroom bookshelf. Most of what I found was either notes from old classes or sketches of various punk-rock iconography: lightning bolts, curvy daggers, eyeballs with blood dripping from ‘em… even a cringe-inducing “They/Them” triangle encircled by flames. But, I found what I was looking for. The band that she, Trish and Reed played in was called VVURM DRAMA. With two V’s instead of a W. Ow the edge. Anyway, now that I can continue my journaling, VVURM DRAMA absolutely knocked it out of the park during their venue at Dino Moe’s. The concert that was held the weekend following us finding the place had almost a hundred people show up. The crowd thoroughly enjoyed the music and even cheered for the band at the end. Everyone had a great time, except maybe Stella who appeared to have been trampled to death in the small mosh pit. It was a far cry from the disaster that I witnessed back on my first day. I was really happy that Fang got to pick her guitar back up and do what she was so gifted and talented at doing. I was happy that she was smiling. As we cleaned up after the show, somehow the topic of my past came up again. This time, instead of just Fang asking me about it, it was all three of them pressing me on my mysterious origins. I chalked it up to “family issues”, though that was only partially true. Unfortunately, I made the mistake of dropping the name of the school that I attended back home, Rock Bottom. Didn’t realize it at the time. I do now. Before that all came to a head, however, I found myself being invited over to Fang’s place during our midterms. She blew off Trish right in front of me before asking me to come over and study. Told me her parents weren’t home, which of course made alarms blare in my head. I agreed, and we went to her place and headed up to her bedroom. No, Fang didn’t do anything naughty with me. We weren’t in a relationship yet. What she did do, however… was play her guitar for me. She played a pretty cool song, something I recognized from the band’s show at Dino Moe’s. I complimented her, and she responded by thrusting the guitar into my hands and telling me to give it a try. Of course, I had no clue what the hell to do with the thing. She tried to instruct me but I was too dumb to connect the dots between my fingers and the strings. With a huff, she circled behind me and sat down, pressing her body against my back as her hands took hold of my own and guided their movements on the fretboard. It was Defcon One in ol’ Anon’s brain head. I could barely hear a word as my heart tried to beat its way out of my chest, but once the fluster settled and my flushed ears began to cool I managed to follow her instruction and guidance. I strummed a few times, not creating anything more than muddled noise to my untrained ears, but she picked up on something through that noise. She took the guitar from my hands… and proceeded to play a beautiful melody for me. Within it, not only could I hear a few traces of the random sounds I had been making being woven into something remarkable… I heard her passion. I heard a hundred different songs, all of which had gone unnoticed by the world. I heard notes that bore the weight of words she couldn’t define. As her guitar quieted and the air was filled only with the sound of her steady breathing, I told her that her song was beautiful. She broke down in tears, and I embraced her. Through her sobs, she thanked me. … All that matters is her. As she wiped away her tears and gathered her composure, I asked her if she could teach me that song. She smiled and agreed, but before we could play anymore Mr. Aaron burst into the room. I assumed that the end had finally arrived. The wrathful, intimidating father throwing open his teenage daughter’s bedroom door and finding her alone with a guy? I quickly made peace with whatever deity would hear me, deciding that I had lived a good life, but thankfully my tale did not end there. Instead, Ripley tossed my ass to the curb outside and told me he would “use my head like a Rubik’s Cube” if he caught me alone with his daughter again. Well, hey. At least I was still alive. The same could not be said for my boxers. — Friday, October 6th, 201M2023 BC I’ll be honest, journal. I’ve kind of been dreading writing this next section. Even though looking back at it now, it really wasn’t THAT big of a deal… when this shit happened to me, it felt like my life was over. Full stop, total social death, do not pass “Go”, do not collect two hundred dollars. But… I expect this journal to make its way into my great-grandkids’ hands someday so that they’ll know the story of their dear old great-grandpappie before he died at the ripe old age of 94 in a terrible skydiving accident. And when that happens, they need to know the whole story. Also, I bet they’ll shit their pants if what I wrote above is actually how I go out. Lol. Lmao, even. A few weeks after nearly having my spinal column removed by Fang’s dad, a school presentation saw everyone in the senior class of Volcano High piling into the auditorium. Reed was operating the projector, as he usually did, and class president Naomi McCreamsicle was presenting a slideshow about “future plans” for us seniors. Even though Naser was technically a grade behind us, what with being younger than Fang, he was seated in the front row, ostensibly to cheer on his girlfriend or something. I had zero interest in any of it. It was fluff. Buzzwords and empty statements. Even though I had been learning to set aside my apathy and be more proactive in some areas of my life, this boring ass presentation was not somewhere that I would direct my attention. That was… until a familiar picture appeared on the projector screen. A picture that I thought I had scrubbed all traces of from the face of the earth. A picture that caused my heart to stop and the terrible memories of my past to come flooding back in an instant. I photoshopped myself with my arm around an anime girl. My waifu at the time. And then another image appeared, even more embarrassing than the first. And then another. In my horribly awkward, incredibly misguided early senior career, I had done one of the most cringey things imaginable, and in doing so had committed social suicide. I was mercilessly ridiculed, bullied and tormented at Rock Bottom, and somehow these same pictures had followed me halfway across the country to end my life once again. Naomi was horrified. Reed clicked further in a blind panic to try to reach the end of the presentation, but the images were seemingly limitless. I had made dozens, and apparently each and every one of them had been not only retained by someone at Rock Bottom but subsequently dredged up by someone here. Naser climbed onto the stage and did the only thing he could think to do: he smashed the projector to bits. I was barraged on all sides by laughter and jeers. I did my best to sink so far into my chair that I would cause a singularity and collapse upon myself into a black hole, but had no luck. Through the blur of it all, I watched the culprit making a mad dash for the auditorium doors: Trish. She was intercepted, somewhat violently, by Principal Spears who literally palmed her by the head and carried her flailing form to his office. He also beckoned me to join them. I couldn’t move. I was completely immobilized. I assumed I had already died, or at least slipped into the blessed release of a coma from which I would hopefully never wake, but the laughter and jeers still bombarded me. Aside from the few friends on stage who had terminated the presentation, the only person not laughing at me was Fang. She helped me to my feet and led me to the auditorium’s exit, shielding me with her wings from the merciless and unrelenting onslaught of mockery. In the hall, Reed approached and profusely apologized. He was having technical issues with the projector and laptop, so he asked Trish to get the USB stick with the presentation on it while he sorted things out. She altered the slideshow before giving Reed the stick, making sure to jam the incriminating photos she had unearthed into the middle of the presentation so Reed wouldn’t notice them from the preview of the first few slides. At this point, I had moved from my catatonic state to one of boiling blood, throwing out just about every cuss word I could think of in my eloquently put thoughts about Trish. Reed confronted me on this, turning more serious than I had seen him before, asking me if I had any idea why Trish would do something like this. I can’t remember what I answered him with; some variation of “Because she’s a bitch,” probably, but Reed shook his head. He pointed out that Trish and I had never gotten along, and he questioned me as to why I never tried to reason with her or get to the bottom of her animosity towards me. Instead, I just let it fester until it boiled over into this incident. Honestly, I still wasn’t in much of a mood to consider such things, but his words did give me pause. A moment later, I was called into the principal’s office and faced a crying Trish. She immediately spewed accusations at me, saying that I was trying to take Fang away from her, that I was a bad influence, and that I was manipulative and destructive. She felt that I was undoing the hard work she had put into helping Fang come out of her shell. After she finished her diatribe, Principal Spears asked me if I had anything I wanted to say to Trish. Though I desperately wanted to cuss Trish out, spin on my heel and leave the room… I didn’t. Instead, I admitted that I could be an asshole and that I hadn’t done anything to try to build a better relationship between myself and her. I explained that I never intended to drive a wedge between her and Fang, but I also condemned her for her actions, informing her that Fang was just outside the principal’s office thinking that this entire fiasco was her fault. I apologized for being a poor friend… but reiterated that I didn’t know if I would have the capacity to forgive her. Not after what she pulled. As I left, Trish mumbled an apology. I turned to her once more and spoke frankly: She needed to offer that apology to Fang, not to me. Outside of the principal’s office, Fang, Reed and I decided to wait for Trish. She was still getting chewed out pretty fiercely and was likely having her parents called, so we all sat by the lockers across the hall and waited. As she exited, Fang confronted Trish and told her that she wanted a break from the band. Needed time to think things through. Fang stepped outside and Reed gave Trish and I some privacy, too. I stoned up and told Trish that I liked Fang, and that I wasn’t going to give up on her. Since the principal gave me permission to go home early, I made my way outside where Fang was waiting for me. Of course, the auditorium had already emptied at this point and the rumor mill had kicked into full effect, so not only were the seniors making fun of me, so too were the juniors, sophomores and even the fucking freshmen. Jeers and mockery collapsed on me from all directions once more, but I was over it. I was ready to go home and began making my way down the enormous set of stairs leading up to the school’s entrance. And that’s when I got beaned in the head with a full-ass soda can. Honestly, who the fuck throws a full-ass soda can? Couldn’t drink the fucking thing first. Now it’s gonna be all fizzy and it’s gonna explode when you open it. Oh, and also I went hurtling down the entire set of stairs, ass over head over ass, and came to an abrupt stop with my chest cavity having welcomed a new tenant: a steel bollard. Lying in the fetal position at the base of the stairs, Fang came charging down the steps, a look of actual shock on her face as I stirred. She assumed I was dead, and I kind of felt like I should be dead too. I got to my feet… and instantly crumpled again. Fang called a taxi for us and took me back to my apartment. … Damnit. I have to find us an apartment. I’m running out of time. — Tuesday, October 10th, 201M2023 BC No luck on the apartment front still. I legitimately don’t know what I’ll do if I can’t find something, and our wedding is only four days away. I tried to vocalize my concerns with Ripley, but he just winked at me and said “Don’t sweat it, kid.” I have no clue why he thinks I shouldn’t be sweating about this, I’m running out of time. I really don’t want to have to spend our first few weeks as husband and wife in a hotel, but that might be how it shapes up. And I’m not gonna settle for a piece of shit apartment in a crappy part of town like Skin Row. What an awful nickname for a neighborhood, Skin Row. It was a shoddy, shady stretch of low-budget housing and dilapidated storefronts that was chock full of humies like myself. It was the only place that had an apartment that fell within my meager high schooler price range, and a place where I had to actually carry around a pocket knife to defend myself from the occasional errant crackhead. It was where I lived back in high school, a fact I kept to myself so as to not be mercilessly ridiculed for my living situation. And now… the girl I liked was taking me straight to my apartment. She helped me up the stairs to my second-story hovel and stepped inside with me. Taking in the grand sight of my unimpressive studio apartment, she quickly noticed the small cardboard box that housed the phone Roomba that I acquired from the mysterious salesman. I had given it little angry eyebrows, a tiny railgun and I fed it corn flakes. I also named it Metal Gear RAYmba, in tribute to one of my favorite video game series. She waited in the small living space while I took a shower. I examined myself in the mirror, taking note of the scrapes, bruises and battering that I had received. Thankfully, nothing seemed broken or sprained, but my chest felt like it could implode on itself if I even looked at it wrong. As I got dressed again and exited the bathroom, Fang told me to lie down on the bed so she could administer some of the first aid items she had picked up from the pharmacy onto my back. She applied the ointment to my bruises, bringing some stinging relief with it. Then she asked me to turn over so she could do the same thing on my front. I could barely hear anything past the sound of my own beating heart. The woman that I was falling for was mere inches away from my face as she leaned over me. My inner dialogue was going crazy, with one question pushing its way to the front of my mind: Do you like me, Fang? In response, she blushed heavily. Yeah. Turned out, my inner dialogue wasn’t so inner, after all. Apparently I mumbled. A lot. And Fang knew that I liked her for some time because of it. Of course, she didn’t tell me before now, finding my social ineptitude cute, but now that we were alone… she was ready to answer me. She liked me, too. She leaned forward to kiss me… but accidentally put pressure down on my chest with her hand. I hate to admit that I killed the moment by crying out like a little bitch, but I did. Oh, well. We opted to spend the night together, no funny business. Just the woman I had fallen for cuddled up next to me, her wing gently draped over my body. After a few days of recovery, I made my way back to school to pick up the assignments that Fang and I had missed during our absence. The moment I arrived, however, a furious form rushed towards me. Naser threw me into a locker, demanding to know where Fang was and what I had done with her. I admitted to him that she was at my place, but I reassured him that we hadn’t done anything promiscuous. Because I am retarded, I also said that we couldn’t even kiss because of my bruises, which sent Naser off the deep end once more as he slammed me into the locker even more fiercely than before. With a growing crowd and his reputation as a star athlete at stake, he finally relented and backed off. Later, he texted me and asked me to meet him in the auditorium. Within, he poured out his heart about how torn up he had been about his relationship with Fang ever since they were kids. I tried to comfort him, but he asked for me to leave him be. I returned home. Back at the apartment, I learned that Fang had eaten most of my food. I didn’t have much to begin with, and normally there’d only be one person here, so I wasn’t upset. I offered to go to the grocery store but she grabbed me by the arm and begged me to stay. She was acting strange, asking me things like whether I hated her for what she had caused. I tried to reassure and comfort her, but she said she was tired… and dizzy. When she nearly fell over, I discovered why. She was preening again, in my home, while I was at school. Her wings were matted, the shower was smeared with blood and discarded feathers were strewn about. I was upset and disappointed in her by this, but I stayed with her and comforted her in her depression. Later, when I asked her what drove her to do this again, she admitted that Trish had been repeatedly trying to reach her, but she had blocked her number. She didn’t want to return to school because that would mean having to confront Trish. I told her frankly that she couldn’t dodge school forever and that she would need to talk to her eventually, but Fang said she wasn’t ready. Unable to convince Fang to return to school or to her home, I at least got her to text her mom so that her parents would know she was okay. I’m still amazed that Ripley didn’t execute me the moment he found out I was alone with his daughter again. Between that and my survival at the hands of the dreaded bollard, I’m glad I stacked so many points into luck when I generated this character. — Wednesday, October 11th, 201M2023 BC Had my third appointment with Dr. Fitzgerald today, and I finally opened up to him about what happened overseas. It wasn’t easy reliving those memories again, but it really did help to talk to him about everything. I may have given the old quack a bit more shit than he deserved when we first met, he’s actually alright. Still wish he’d laugh at my jokes, though. I think in our next session I’ll talk to him a bit about Lucy. I don’t want her to keep struggling with this pain from her past, but I just don’t know what to do to help her get over it. Writing this journal has been reminding me of her friends… our friends from high school. We all made mistakes, but I wish things hadn’t ended how they did. The day after I had found Fang preening in my room, I made her promise me that she wouldn’t do it again as I was leaving for school. She still wasn’t ready to go back yet, but she agreed to not preen anymore. On my way up to the school’s entrance, I bumped into Rosa and Stella. Apparently there were rumors floating around that Fang and I had eloped. Guess it was a better use of the rumor mill than everyone talking about the bald skinnie who hover-armed an anime waifu, but I still felt it right to reassure the two women that Fang and I had not run off to get married somewhere. She just needed some time away from school to deal with things. They both offered their support, should Fang and I need it. I had never been terribly close friends with either of them before this point, but I was glad that they were willing to be supportive. Unfortunately, there were two people who were not trying to be supportive. Reed and Trish attempted to corner me between classes, but I dodged them. It was not the time for them. Not yet, at least. Not until Fang was ready. When I got home, my heart sank as I found feathers strewn around Fang’s form as she rested in my bed. However, just as I was about to lose my shit, I realized that one of my pillows had been ripped in half. The inherent strength of dinosaurs and pterosaurs was always something I was aware of, but the fact that she managed to rend my pillow asunder with her bare claws was still pretty jarring. Well… I’d rather have a dead pillow than a hurting girlfriend. As she awoke, I asked her what happened to my poor, now deceased pillow. She broke down crying, saying that she had gotten a call from Reed. She answered it, believing that I would have wanted her to try to make amends… but it wasn’t Reed on the other line. It was Trish. Fang wasn’t ready for the shock of hearing Trish, nor the bombarding accusations that followed, so she took out her anger and frustration on my pillow. Fang… I didn’t want her to be sad. I did my best to comfort her, but I knew things needed to change. Something needed to be fixed… but we weren’t ready to try to mend things with Trish or Reed yet. That only left one person. I asked Fang if she wanted to go out for dinner. She agreed, and as she was getting cleaned up I gave Rosa a call. She had offered to help out earlier, and I needed her help now. About an hour later, Fang and I arrived at Dino Moe’s, and a few moments after we took our seats, Rosa joined us, dragging a protesting Naser by the arm along with her. Neither Naser nor Fang were pleased about this scheme. They both tried to escape, but Rosa and I kept the two of them restrained as we blocked them into our booth. Moe approached us with a wide smile at first, but quickly realized what we were doing. He shooed Rosa and I away from the table and took a seat next to Naser and Fang to help shepherd them on working out their issues. Thankfully, the gambit paid off. I hadn’t planned on Moe assisting, but whatever he said to them and had them say to one another worked like a charm. The two of them were able to hash out their problems and become close siblings once again. And Lucy and Naser are friends to this day, thank God. I’m looking forward to calling him “brother-in-law”. Unfortunately… he was the only friend we retained. When Fang finally got the courage to return to school, Reed cornered me the first chance he got. I tried to tell him to leave me alone, but he practically begged me to help, saying that Trish was in a really bad spot and needed to talk to Fang. I reluctantly agreed, saying that I’d only allow it if I was present and could terminate the conversation the moment things turned sour. Reed agreed to my terms, and I messaged Fang to have her meet up with me and Trish in our usual lunch spot, the auditorium, reassuring her that I would be by her side. As the lunch bell rang and I got in line to quickly get my lunch, Reed stood behind me and kept trying to delay me. He interrupted me, he said he needed other things from another line, and seemed to be purposefully dragging his feet. When my phone started buzzing, Reed bumped into me, causing me to drop the device. Before I could pick it up, he snatched and pocketed it. I realized what was happening. I instantly tore down the hallway trying to get to the auditorium as quickly as I could, but before I could make it to the doors, a sudden downpour of water with an accompanying shrill alarm caused students and teachers to flood into the hallway in a panic, battering me around and keeping me from reaching the auditorium. That son of a bitch pulled the fire alarm. As I nearly reached the doors, Reed caught me from behind in a headlock and restrained me from getting into the auditorium. Fucking dinosaur strength; I was completely helpless. He assured me that this needed to happen and that everything was going well. He cracked the door open, still restraining me as we observed. Fighting. Accusation. Panicked response. It was a complete nightmare. Trish shouted that she had pulled Fang out of her shell, aiding her in embracing her non-binary identity and helping her achieve a new, “better” version of herself. Fang refused to hear it, telling Trish to fuck off and calling her a control freak who wanted everything to go her way. Trish insisted that it was Fang’s idea to reinvent herself and that Trish only supported her. Everything she did was in service to the band, their friendship and Fang’s desires. Fang crumbled at the words as Trish’s verbal onslaught continued, saying that Fang was only doing all of this because of me, the horrible monster that undid all of Trish’s hard work, and that she’d turn into a “cum-dumpster trailer-trash wife” if she stayed with me. She concluded with the reminder that Fang was the one that was scared of not amounting to anything in life, and that Trish’s actions were all done to steer her away from that trajectory… but now she was back on course to being a nobody. They had both broken down in tears. Reed finally released me from the headlock and wordlessly handed my phone back to me. As he left, I saw the look of disappointment and regret in his eyes. He thought the plan was going to go better than it did. I dashed into the auditorium, my presence giving Fang the courage to tell Trish to fuck off from her life. Trish left without another word, and I was left with the sobbing form of the woman I loved in my arms. — Thursday, October 12th, 201M2023 BC Two more days until our wedding. I caught a glimpse of the wedding dress that Lucy picked out. I know it’s bad luck for me to see her in it before our wedding, but simply seeing the dress itself is okay, right? It was beautiful. She’s going to be beautiful in it. Even more beautiful than she was in her prom dress. A few weeks after her confrontation with Trish, Fang made her way back to class again. She was still avoiding Reed and Trish, but was doing alright overall. During one of our science classes, the principal announced over the PA system that prom tickets were available. Trying to play things cool, I let the teacher know that Fang and I were doing well with the assignment, remembering to use her preferred pronoun of “they”. Fang told me that she wouldn’t mind if I started calling her Lucy and referring to her by “she/her” pronouns. I accepted, and took the opportunity to ask her to prom. Her cheeks grew redder and redder until she couldn’t help but conceal herself with her wings and squeal in excitement. Regaining her composure, she coolly agreed. What a woman. A month later, prom night was upon us. I wore a secondhand tux that my father sent to me, and I met up with Naser and Naomi outside of the Aaron residence. Samantha insisted on taking dozens of pictures; dazzled by the repeated flashes of the camera, my eyesight returned to me just in time to take in the image of Lucy descending the stairs in a beautiful light blue dress. Her warm smile filled me with happiness. Samantha took even more photos with Lucy included. I nearly went blind permanently. In between the photographs, Naomi pulled me aside. Expecting a question about prom or maybe about who was gonna ride shotgun in Naser’s car, instead I was met with a look of intensity and anger. Crossing her arms, Naomi chastised me for not having done more to “fix” Lucy. While she was appreciative that I helped to bridge the gap between Lucy and Naser, she was upset that Lucy was still avoiding her and everyone else at school. I couldn’t believe it. The woman who had manipulated Lucy and I was lecturing me on the job I did at “fixing” my girlfriend. I wasn’t going to stand for it. I told her flat out that I had done nothing but be supportive of Lucy and that her decisions were hers to make. That was the end of it, I had nothing else to say to Naomi. She could rot for all I cared. We arrived at the school and made our way into the gymnasium where the lights shone bright and the decorations heralded the joy that would be our prom night. At least… it should have been joyous. As we were getting some food, Principal Spears approached and told us that everything was in place for the “surprise” that Lucy had signed up for. We had no clue what he was talking about, but were quickly enlightened when Trish, Stella and Rosa all appeared and collectively shouted “Surprise!” with band gear in tow. We were surprised, to say the least. Surprised… shocked… horrified. Trish had signed up VVURM DRAMA for a special performance at prom and even brought a guitar for Lucy to play. To Trish, this was some sort of grand apology that would win Lucy back and get into her good graces again. Rosa and Stella stood nearby, excitedly awaiting the big payoff for their masterful plan. Lucy couldn’t respond. She was catatonic. My blood instantly boiled and I shouted at Trish, asking her what the fuck she thought she was doing. Before I knew it, Lucy burst into tears and fled from the three of them. Stella and Rosa began to realize that they had bungled this entire plan pretty horribly, but Trish persisted and chased after Lucy. I pursued, finding Trish on the other side of the gymnasium. She shouted apologies for her criticism of me and begged Lucy to play in the band again, but Lucy only refused. Trish crossed the line when she forcibly grabbed Lucy and tried to drag her to the stage. That was the final straw for me; I broke her grasp to defend Lucy. Trish finally relented and Lucy fled into the hallway. There may have been a day when the two of them had an opportunity to work things out… but it was not that day. The question is… can that day still come? I’ve been thinking more and more about our old friends. Despite how badly things went, I can’t help but feel that we could have worked things out. Can anything be done to reconnect with them? Could we even find them? Do they still live in Volcaldera Bluffs? And… would Lucy even be ready to reconnect? The last few times I’ve tried to bring it up have ended catastrophically. I wish things had gone differently. If they had, I might not have had to leave Lucy for three years. Who knows where I may have ended up? College, or a career… maybe even a band manager for VVURM DRAMA. I’d have strongly suggested new branding, but so long as I was with Lucy, I would have been happy. But… it worked out how it worked out. I still have Lucy… but I don’t have my friends. I still have my life… but I have scars that will be with me forever. I should be happy with what I have. But… a part of me still feels empty. — Friday, October 13th, 201M2023 BC The wedding is tomorrow. I don’t know how much more time I’ll have for journaling once we’re married. We still need to figure out our living situation, and there will be plenty of other things we’ll need to get sorted out. However, I’ve got all of my “manly” wedding responsibilities taken care of. Much like the Army, now it’s time to “hurry up and wait”. Three months after the disaster that was prom, Lucy and I had a date together. It was a pleasant day spent with the woman I loved and… well, Naser was there, too. Mostly to cart us around in his jalopy, but he hung out with us on the “date”, too. Sorta had to take what we could get. After our time on the town, Naser dropped us off at my apartment. Lucy and I spent the night together. It would be the last night we would spend together for three years. It was the last date we would have for three years. And at the time… I feared it would be the last of these things, and everything else… the last of my time with Lucy… forever. I very nearly gave up on her. I didn’t want to burden her with waiting for me. It would be a horribly unfair prospect to tell a woman to wait for three years for a man that might not come home. Sure, my service probably wouldn’t be that dangerous based on my station, but that didn’t mean there was no risk. I told her that I didn’t want to force her to wait for me and potentially waste her life in the process. She didn’t accept or reject my offer… she instead apologized for the things that she did when we first met. She regretted her pronoun phase and her insistence on everything being about her. She regretted how much her actions had hurt Naser and her parents. As we waited at the bus stop for me to travel to the airport and depart for my Basic Training, I asked Lucy to make me a promise. I asked her that, if we did see each other again, she’d work to improve herself and become a better person. She agreed, but only on the condition that I promise to come back. We embraced one final time… and I boarded the bus. I was terrified. I didn’t want it to be over. But I did what I had to do. To be honest, I had every intention of letting her go. If she didn’t want to speak to me, then so be it. If she met someone else and moved on, it would have hurt immensely… but I wanted her to be happy. Lucy didn’t let me go. She wrote to me while I was in Basic. She told me about her schooling. Community college towards a degree and her teaching certificate. She wanted to work with kids. She told me about Naser’s plans to head to med school. She told me about her parents, keeping me apprised of everyone meaningful in her life. She told me she loved me. She told me that she would never stop loving me. Her letters kept me going through my Basic Training. Once I was allowed to write her back, I did so immediately. When I was allowed to call, she was the first person I spoke to. Hearing her voice made my heart melt. I missed her so much. After Basic, they sent me overseas. Some dust pit on the other side of the world. I kept writing to Lucy. I called her every chance I got. We kept our flame going through it all. Long distance relationships are a nightmare, and there were times when it felt like things might not work out, but we persevered. As I approached the end of my deployment, we started talking about marriage. We both knew we wanted to spend the rest of our lives together, so we began preparations before I came home. As much as we could do before we were officially engaged, we did. I was going to go home. I was going to marry Lucy. … And then the explosion happened. … I don’t want to write about it right now. I survived. That’s what matters. Volcaldera Bluffs didn’t seem to change much in the three years I was absent, but I certainly did. I was a different man. The Army whipped me into shape and taught me discipline. I managed to beef myself up pretty well, and I kept my promise to Lucy. I came home. The plaza near Volcaldera Park had been set up as a fairground with vendors, rides, food and balloons. As I wandered into the multicolored array of booths and attractions, a familiar shape barreled towards me. Gone was her punk rock attire and spiked headwear. In its place, a lovely yellow sundress and a red ribbon tied around her crest. She beamed a beautiful smile at me and brought her lips to my own. Lucy. My Lucy. I made it home to you. She was watching over her preschool kids as they enjoyed their time at the fair. She spoke to the other chaperones and got permission to take the rest of the day off in celebration of my return. We went for a walk and got to chat. I tried to ask her about some of the things that she didn’t really respond to me about in our letters: our friends from high school. She only told me that she never got back in touch with them again. I tried asking about Volcano High, and she brushed it off, saying she wanted to avoid those memories. We had dinner together. On our way out, Lucy was shaking, fearful that she had failed me in keeping her promise to better herself. She admitted that she was still broken. She admitted to having preened again after I left for my deployment, but she assured me that she had overcome this struggle. She admitted that she was lonely and had no friends, and that I was the only person that was left for her. All I could do was comfort her, telling her that I was here for her now and that I’d never leave her again. We spent the night together, desperate for each other’s touch after so long apart. When I took off my shirt and revealed my scars… the look of pain and sadness on Lucy’s face broke my heart. The medical officers did an outstanding job removing the shrapnel and stitching me up… but the keepsake I was to carry for the rest of my life was on full display across my arms and torso. Lucy embraced me as she wept. She ran her hands across the twisted grooves and uneven tissue that would forever mar my flesh. When she finally looked up at me, her eyes brimmed with only one emotion. She spoke the words to me that I wanted to hear her say today, tomorrow and every day for the rest of my life. The words I repeated back to her, and will repeat back to her until the day I die. “I love you.” Lucy… thank you for accepting me. Thank you for staying by my side through everything. Thank you for loving me. … I don’t know if I’ll have the time to write much else in this journal. Not that I’m sure what else I could write about anyway. I’m getting ready for the rest of my life. I want to live in the moment, spending every day, every hour, every minute with Lucy. — Saturday, October 14th, 201M2023 BC Today is the day of Lucy and I’s wedding. I’m the happiest man in the world. I love you, Lucy. Now and forever.