“ From a self-righteous isolationist, into a simple man with hope slowly regrowing inside. The year in Volcano University felt like a push forward. The weeks I've spent beside the band felt like a warm hand placed onto my shoulder. The days I've spent with Nick beside me felt like a fiery rebirth. All confusion and harmful dread over the past is gone now, I am better than what I was. "

Early morning strikes the eye. The pale sun slowly reaches into the living room through the thin veil of matte black curtains. It's cold inside, but the rays on the laminate flooring are slowly fighting the coldness. The sky is as clear as it ever could be, gleaming over dark apartment complexes across many different streets. September days are still warm, clinging onto the last bits of August onto warming cold living rooms like this. The table is empty, only a lamp, a PC and some books rest on its wooden surface. The wardrobe has some new additions to the outwear. The bed, standing opposite of the wardrobe, is warm, with two lovers inside, still sleeping.

It was a long way to get here. From the confusion and defensive measures, all the way through breaking a barrier after a barrier, into sleeping in one bed. It feels weird feeling a warm scaly woman body pressing onto the diaphragm, but Anon doesn't mind. He loves Nick, cares about her. All that matters is her – is his most frequent thought, reeking of the colorless, accepted past. She helped him, like he helped her. They both became better than what they were at the beginning. They have managed to accept each other, placing an image inside the collage of their souls. A silvery string bridges the chasm that was before. For Anon that was the biggest victory, placed over the biggest loss.

A muffled beeping emits. It's quiet, but it was enough to wake Anon up. He moves his hand out from beneath his pillow and turns off the alarm on his phone. Placing his hand under his head, he stares into the ceiling, trying to remember what is today and what was yesterday. Yesterday was Wednesday, Nick came over to study, but due to missing a last bus she stayed over the night. Today was Thursday, just yet another of these days.

And he could stand up, if not for Nick, lying over him. He looks down onto her. Seeing her like this, sleeping like a child, is always warming. She's very active, but that comes with the price of sleeping like a bear in the winter. – Anon thought, peacefully. He placed his hand over her messy hair, now styled plainer and more straightforward and slowly growing bigger and bigger, and brushed over a couple of times, thinking that this gesture would get her to wake up. But it was like throwing a feather on a clear and calm water surface – barely anything.

— Nick, – Anon quietly said. – It's time. Wake up, you blue-colored cupcake.

— Mmh... Five more minutes... – Nick moaned.

The time was ticking, impatiently waiting for the lovers to finally wake up. Anon reached under the blanket with his hand and brushed against her back, barely reaching her bubbly butt.

— If you won't stand up in five seconds, I'll grab your ass, and you won't even do anything about it. – Anon said, with playful seriousness.

Nick gave out something between a groan and a moan.

— Alright, alright... – she said. – I'm standing up.

Then she began to stand up, and soon was sitting on top of Anon. Her figure, to say the least, was marveling. A network of black lines spread over her light-blue body, forming a pattern beyond Anon's comprehension. Her simple bra was luring, calling to be taken off for embracing in a love act. Still, Anon was too sleepy, too dreamy and too unready to commence anything like this.

— God, you're impatient. – She smiled, still sleepy, and brushed her hair with hands.

— You don't sound like you didn't want me to do it. – Anon noted.

She chuckled, then leaned to Anon's face.

— Well, even a Thursday morning can be nice, isn't it? – she said, lustfully.

Anon chucked. They hugged, and as she was barely clinging onto that bit of energy she has, resting on Anon's warm chest, Anon placed a kiss onto her neck. Feeling his lips press against her scaly neck, she chuckled a bit more and brushed her hand over Anon's clean and reflective bald head.

Nick finally stood up and left Anon, stepping onto the cold laminate barefooted, entering the bathroom to properly brush her hair and dress up. Anon, after a few seconds of feeling her absence in the bed, soon got up too; he got into his plain jeans and a white t-shirt and entered the kitchen. While he heard the sound of water from the bathroom, he turned on the kettle and began waiting for the water to boil. It's simple mornings like these that always get him. He loves the straightforwardness of each and every of his actions, patiently waiting for the world to start spinning in its lonely waltz today.

Nick, dressed in her typical clothes, joined Anon in the kitchen, sitting down at the table to listen as the water boils up.

— There are pancakes inside the fridge, waiting for you. – Nick pointed out. – I bought them yesterday, but you were too delved into studying to eat them.

Anon nodded. The water is now boiled, still quaking inside the kettle. Anon got two big cups, placed them onto the table, got the kettle and some tea. Then he got out the carton with four pancakes.

— And how much did it cost you? – Anon asked, sitting down at the table opposite of her.

— The pancakes? Much less than you think. I'll just say that I got a huge deal.

Anon opened the carton, and soon the lovers began their breakfast. That little carton of pancakes was shared between them, giving a sugary aftertaste to the tea. Maybe because they did this willingly, voluntarily, not because there wasn't anything to eat. The breakfast ended, and, after checking the time, the lovers returned into the living room to prepare. As Anon was checking their bags, Nick called Curtis, making sure that their lovely drummer is “already shooting .50 BMG in the field”.

— Five minutes! – Curtis said over the phone, ecstatically.

Nick ended the call and put her phone in the pocket. Anon handed her the bag, which she swiftly put behind her back, and the lovers walked over to the hallway. Boots on the feet, coats on the shoulders. And soon they left the apartment and made their way outside.

It was warm. The clean sky toppled over the busy city, reflecting what could be a new dreamy life. Its slow gradient, much like the color of Nick’s scales, was marvelous. No trace of clouds, only purity. The sun has slowly risen up to shine upon the streets and the apartment complexes, the mausoleums to what was freedom. The time is ticking, going forward relentlessly, marching forward into certain oblivion. Anon and Nick decided to go against – patiently wait for Curtis to peel out of the corner of the building on the edge of this street.

While waiting, Anon decided to ask a question he pondered upon for quite a while:

— Why do you stay at my place most of the time?

For a second Nick didn’t answer, despite not looking disturbed by the question (it seems she saw it coming her way), but soon she said:

— Because I fucking hate sleeping alone.

— Why don’t you move to my place then?

— Because your apartment is your domain, while my apartment is my domain. Simple as.

— Well, it seems that we are losing borderlines in this.

— What do you mean?

— You stayed at my apartment for quite a while now. Sharing breakfast, lunch, dinner, sharing a bed, sharing thoughts and prayers. I don’t think that what you’ve said is applicable.

Nick smiled.

— I guess you are right. Maybe I lied about why I don’t want to move in, but why I stay at your place is true. A hundred and one percent true.

Anon didn’t respond. He expected this answer.

Before they knew it, they heard a familiar engine roar. They looked over in the direction where the sound was coming from, and noticed a familiar vehicle, peeling in at what felt like a good old sixty miles an hour. The car stopped abruptly, cutting the air in half, and the lovers entered the car. Inside, in a warm and rather fresh salon, were their friends: Curtis behind the wheel and Abby with Trent in the back.

Anon shook hands with Curtis.

— How’s the range? – he asked.

— Pretty good! – Curtis responded. – It’s always nice to wake up by shooting a couple of .50 AE into the ground.

— My man over here has some truly devious methods of waking up, – Nick commented.

Curtis chuckled, and while he chuckled he suddenly pressed the pedal, storming out of Noah Arc. The sheer acceleration was nuts, Anon felt like he was involuntarily sinking in just to not lose his jaw. Sometimes he wonders how Curtis got this car – maybe his dad bought him? maybe he bought it himself? – but always left the wondering aside, for experiencing this car over and over again, noticing small details that make each and every ride unique in its own way.

In less than a minute, the crew was already at the parking lot of Volcano University. After gazing upon the same brutalist building of the university he knows for over a year, Anon leaves the car, being the last one to do so. Curtis whips out the key and locks the car, and soon the crew, walking in a straight line (Trent, Abby, Nick, Anon, Curtis), made its way to the entrance.

— Why do I feel we look like The Beatles? – Anon asked.

— How so? – Nick asked him back, turning over to him for a second, while still walking.

— I don’t know, but how we are walking makes me feel like we are, – Anon said.

— Yeah, I began to feel that too, – Curtis said. – We should’ve made a picture like this. Maybe people will understand how childish we still are.

Anon chuckled.

Soon, the band entered the university. It was all the same: the doors, the people, the flowerpots, the hallways, the stairwell and many, many other things, – but in the meantime it all felt different, as the crew looked at it with an adult eye. This strange feeling is something Anon was always looking out for, but not because it was bad – because it is something he likes. Looking at something and feeling like it isn’t what it seems now or seemed before. Looking at something, comprehending its structure, but still feel like missing something, thus making the object of interest alien to the environment it’s in.

Before he knew it, he and Nick had already reached the door for the classroom. It was crowded as usual, with no way to enter. People stand so close to each other their singular silhouettes melt into a singular biomass mold. This thought felt disgusting, but Anon kept it, because he found it rather funny. Funny like a joke someone tells and laughs at it in front of the crowd which didn’t get the punchline. Funny like a joke that is better to be kept to himself rather than to be said out loud. But no matter if Anon would vocalize his thoughts or not, Nick, as if practicing in telepathy, already knew what he was thinking about.

The bell rang, telling everyone to fuck off into their classrooms. Slowly, the hallways emptied, and only the group of Anon and Nick was waiting for the teacher to arrive. This was rather annoying, as if they are not really students – just listeners, just observers, without any actual brain in their heads. Anon sighed, with this singular sigh he said basically everything about constantly waiting for the teacher to arrive. Nick didn’t ask, only sighed, responding empathetically about Anon’s irritations.

Sooner than they thought, the teacher arrived, crushing the pace of time. The raptor stormed in, wearing a rather dapper lab coat, definitely not cheap, but definitely out of Anon’s financial reach. The raptor was moving so quickly that the bottom of his coat was fighting the forces of this stale hallway air, somehow revealing his power levels. Anon smiled, remembering this concept, – Power levels… Jeez, it sure was long fucking time. And jeez, sure I forgot literally everything. For a second he imagined himself with a phone constantly browsing the threads of one little website where he spent almost all of his life being the one of many, many anonymous, but quickly discarded that envision.

The teacher patted the lab coat in search of his keys, with almost twenty people standing behind his back, waiting patiently. Those young piercing gazes, even if there were a ton of them, didn’t freak out the teacher, his stern teacher being, his stiff teacher morals. He has it all inside his bag, he has his mind sorted to the point he can just simply forget where everything is and still be able to locate them. Those twenty pairs of eyes are barely a scare – just forty gems, spread around him like in a jewelry store.

Soon, the teacher finally found the key and opened the door with a swift, determined move. The lock clicked under constant pressure, and soon the door was unlocked. The teacher opened it wide, letting everyone enter. Slowly, the crowd made its way inside and spread around the classroom, taking each and every seat. Lucky for Nick and Anon, their table was untaken almost all of the time, patiently waiting for the last pair of students to enter and take it. Anon closed the door behind himself, and, with Nick, walked over and sat at their home table.

The teacher slowly, almost like a surveillance camera, moved his gaze across the room, capturing a silvery negative of each and every student there was. Then, he lowered his gaze, down to his report card of present students and his synopsis notebook. The teacher grabbed the pencil and quickly checked out those who weren’t present today, which was only two people. In the meantime Anon and Nick, after preparations, were just sitting, quietly discussing their band plans.

— So, – Nick began, – I thought about giving another show.

— It is only two months after we played the biggest one, bro, relax, – Anon said, looking at her.

— So what? Doesn’t mean that we can’t put it out! Besides, don’t you like the idea of playing for an audience?

— I do…

— And? – Nick interrupted.

— …but I believe we should be silent for a fair bit, – Anon said.

Nick start.

— Look, I understand that you want to show our band to as many people as there is in Volcaldera, – Anon said, – but it doesn’t mean we have to put out regular shows. For two reasons: one, people will get tired of them, and two, if people won’t get tired of them they will begin asking for more. And we don’t have any new material, so that counts as a third reason.

Nick looked away from Anon, thinking about what he said.

— Sometimes it’s better to stay off and be silent, believe me, – Anon said.

Nick sighed, playing a mix of frustration and distraught, looked at Anon and said, longingly:

— Fine…

Anon looked away, and so did Nick. The teacher began explaining, and before they knew it, they were already feeling much more obtuse than ever before, merely desiring to go home.

 

***

 

Before they knew it, the sun was already on the other side of the baby blue sky. September was still shining in the last bits of August. The wind brought calmness, heaving up all the thoughts from the bottom of this endless sea. Reality doesn’t seem that depressing now, and Anon was surprised to notice all the little details: how the still buildings were simmering in the evening twilight, how the sun emitted a beautiful gradient on the baby blue cloth of the sky… The only missing part is some little band playing outside in the empty park , – Anon thought, – then I would consider asking Nick for a dance.

He smiled at this thought, which made Nick look at him with question. He knew almost everything, but moments like these she couldn’t understand properly what he got up with his mind. She looked at him for a second or two, before turning back, throwing her gaze all around the city. Strangely enough, just like Anon, she found little bits, filling the holes in the scrim of reality. Some buildings, despite the outer cold and brutalist look, despite their design to satiate the need for a roof over the head, they all had something contained inside their open windows – the life inside hailed for Nick to join the life inside. Too sad that Nick couldn’t listen to what the wind said to her.

— Who are we waiting for, by the way? – Nick finally asked, to breach this silence between them.

— For Leo. He said he had something to talk about in person, – Anon responded, and lit a cigarette. After puffing a huge cloud, he sighed: – And by how he looked, it’s a rather serious thing.

— Oh… So that means you both will talk privately? – Nick asked, and clasped the strap of her shopper bag, containing everything she carries.

— If it comes to it, – Anon responded, and took another drag.

His smoking issue was always something that bothered Nick. For what she believed, people smoked only whenever they were worried, and yet Anon didn’t look nor emitted any kind of worry. In fact, he looked rather confident, believing that he has everything in his grasp. Before he smoked because he, as Nick understood, wanted to fill the pauses between in their dialogues, but now he looked like he was smoking for the simple fact of it . Killing yourself for fun , – Nick thought. – Doesn’t sound fun at all. (She was a smoker herself, but it was nothing more than vape, and she quit before she entered Volcano University, so in some way she could relate.)

As Anon finished his cigarette against the pavement and flicked it onto the road, Leo descended the last step. He looked calm, but Nick saw bits of worry, distraught and outright cowardice in his eyes. She stepped aside, so that Leo could stand near Anon.

— I’ll catch you at your home then! – Nick said.

She walked off, leaving Leo and Anon to themselves on this street. Anon followed her with his close, steady eyes, until she disappeared around the corner. In the last moment before her disappearance, she looked nothing more than a blue dot on the background of grayness –this thought brought strange relief to Anon. A blue dot on the background of grayness – a symbol of hope that this city still can shine with all its colors.

— So… Let’s sit down, shall we? – Leo said, moving his hand to the side, thus inviting Anon to sit down with him on the bench behind.

Anon nodded, and both of them took a seat on the sturdy, strangely comfortable, dark wood bench. Anon leaned back onto the backrest, Leo leaned forward, holding his head with his hands, elbows bumping into his thighs, a bit hurtfully. Anon looked calm, patiently waiting for Leo to come up with what he wanted to share, meanwhile Leo looked nowhere near calm – inside his head, his mind, looking like a shore, is always drenched in the water of the tsunamis that are his thoughts. Over and over, and over again, as if doing it for pointless fun.

— I just… can’t, – Leo said, throwing himself onto the backrest, looking somewhere into the sky.

— “Can’t” what? – Anon asked.

— I can’t live with the fact that you’ve helped me through a lot of shit, and I didn’t even come up with a proper payback.

Anon started and glanced at him.

­­— What do you mean? – Anon asked.

— You’ve helped me get through a lot. And when I say a lot, I really mean it. A fucking ton of things. All resolved by you.

— Well, thanks for such a compliment, but I didn’t resolve all of it.

— Most of them, alright. And when I think about it, I can’t stop thinking that I didn’t pay you off properly. You did so much for me, and you didn’t even pay back.

Anon looked at him for a second, then put his hand on Leo’s shoulder.

— I get it, alright? – Anon said. – I know that it feels weird for you to receive so much without me asking back, but that’s what it is. You’re my friend, Leo. It’s on the house for friends.

Leo smiled, but didn’t look convinced by him, which made Anon sigh.

— Just be a nice friend with her and don’t fuck up. It's as simple as that.

Leo nodded. Anon thought it was all, and thus removed his hand from Leo’s shoulder. A quick thought about being a hero of today almost made him stand up, before Leo muttered:

— And that bullshit with Sage…

— What bullshit? – Anon asked.

— Sage’s… mad.

— How mad?

— “Eruption of a volcano” type mad. That’s how mad she is.

Anon leaned forward, his hands clasped together as he delved into thinking, and Leo continued:

— She’s mad that I got along with Nick. For me it is a win, it’s something I wanted to accomplish. But for Sage… As if something that she feared the most happened. She’s so fucking mad at me right now… She doesn’t even want to speak about it, and when she does, it’s mainly her. Yelling at me. I tried to talk some reason into her, but she wouldn't listen.

Anon leaned back onto the backrest.

— Maybe you should dump her.

Leo started.

— What? – he asked with genuine surprise.

— I know it sounds drastic, but, for what I believe, it could be the only way out. If I was you, I would’ve done just like so.

Leo sighed.

— I’m not forcing you to do it, of course, – Anon said. – If you want, you can find a moment and talk things to her, or… you know. It’s all up to you.

For a moment, Leo was silent. This silence was oddly menacing, and Anon quickly prepared for anything that Leo might say. But instead, Leo stood up and, looking down at Anon, said:

— You know what? You’re right. This is the only way.

Anon started. He quickly stood up, to level his gaze with Leo’s. What a switch in attitude , – Anon thought. – As if a cord has snapped.

— She was sucking me dry for years now, – Leo said, sometimes spitting words out; calmly angry, like a true Frenchman. – In all meanings. But enough is enough. I’m done with this bullshit.

Something about the “new” version of Leo made Anon smile approvingly at him. Something in his attitude was something that Anon anticipated. And now it finally happened. Leo finally manned up. Leo’s mind is big, and his balls are bigger. Leo’s gaze is as straight as a horizon. Next time she speaks , – Anon thought, – Leo will break all hell loose .

They shook hands, and Anon went home, imagining the moral beating Sage will receive the next time she’ll open her mouth about Leo and Nick getting along.

 

***

 

After the cold stairwell, the hallway inside the living room is the hottest, most stiff place Anon could visit. As he opened the door inside, he was hit with a heat wave. For a second he even felt his eyes turn misty for a bit, as if he wore glasses – that’s how hot and stiff it was inside. But Anon endured the heat, dropping his jacket almost immediately, leaving it to hang in solitude, and then walking over to the living room, where it was much nicer (for some reason).

He left his bag on the floor near the table, already occupied by a mass of things, and sat down onto the made bed. The talk with Leo felt strangely draining, despite it being rather normal and even somewhat uplifting. Anon was glad for his French friend to get along with Nick, and even more glad for him to man up against that energy sucking, colorful, sugar rush looking leech. All that, added with a fair bit of optimism and hope, and yet Anon still feels a bit empty. Spent, like a rifle cartridge.

He stood up and looked over the table, as if in search of something. Typical things: many, many different papers, a monitor, a lamp with some good headphones hanging from it, a keyboard and a mouse, hidden underneath all these assignments. Anon glanced over all of those papers – typical missed assignments, all done by Nick’s hand. She definitely doesn’t like doing things immediately, – Anon said. – Or is it just about uni? After this thought, Anon remembered the chaotic day of the album recording, and nodded to himself – it’s just about uni.

Then, he spotted clothes hanging from the backrest of the chair. Sizeless white longsleeve with stripes on the sleeves and dark cargo pants – those were Nick’s clothes. After realizing that, Anon finally realized how strangely empty and quiet it is in the living room. The strangeness didn’t stop there – why was he hit with a wave of hot air when he entered the apartment? Nick going to the shower was really unlikely – she only took it somewhere in the midnight, when Anon is already asleep, to join him, fresh and new, and embrace his warm body underneath the blanket.

And only then Anon spotted the closed door inside the kitchen. He knew that Nick was able to cook things, but for what reason she decided to discard her clothes? Maybe she cooks something that is really tedious to wash off the clothes, and she decided to undress just in case? Maybe she wants to surprise Anon with something? Or maybe she doesn’t even cook at all, waiting for him to open the door and see her, prepared for a gruesome act of love? Anon felt the need for answers, and so he walked over, opened the door and entered the kitchen.

Nick was there. Standing in an apron with a spatula, looking down onto something in the pan. Hearing the door open, she turned her head and, noticing Anon, gave him a smile. He drank a glass of water and sat down.

— So how was the talk with Leo? – Nick asked.

— Well, I reassured him, – Anon said. – He also manned up and decided to leave Sage.

­— Really? – Nick asked, surprised. – Damn… My man over here got his switch pulled. Did you persuade him?

— Nope. Just told him what I would do in his place.

— Oh, alright then…

And then it struck Anon. Not only didn’t Nick wear her usual clothes – she didn’t even have any of her underwear. The only thing hiding her erotic beauty was an apron – and even then it was onesided. And Anon saw the other, open side.

— Really? – he asked.

Nick looked at him with a question.

— Nothing under the apron? As if you are not even trying.

— Oh, that! Don’t worry about it. I just… you know… was hit with something I didn’t want to miss.

Anon stood up and walked behind Nick.

— And you decided to abandon all of your clothing for it? – Anon asked, cheeky smiling, his hands slowly clasping around Nick.

— Of course not! – Nick said, and put one her hand over Anon’s. – I was out of the bath when it hit me. I told you, it’s something you don’t want to miss out on!

The bath? That explains why it was so hot in the hallway. – Anon thought. – Maybe she forgot to close the door or something. He looked down at Nick, and spotted a really lustful look on her face. Now he understood how it all looked.

Anon bumped her head and said, playing a serious face:

— No horny.

She laughed for a bit.

— You don’t sound like you don’t want that to happen.

— I just don’t want the kitchen drenched in chaos.

— Oh, look at you! Since when have you become so pragmatic?

— It’s not pragmatic. It’s doing the deed in a proper place.

She chuckled. Anon threw his gaze over to the window and saw the sun disappearing underneath the horizon.